(TW: blindness/eye injury (not graphic), kidnapping, death mention, medical whump kinda)

The rescue team had finally succeeded. They’d infiltrated the enemy’s base, destroyed their plans, and defeated them for good. Everything had gone their way, and there were only a few minor injuries to the group. Now, all they needed to do was rescue Whumpee, who had unfortunately been taken hostage months prior. Thankfully, now that it was all over, they could be saved.

Even though the mission had gone well, there was one thing that still bothered Caretaker, the leader of the rescue group, as they headed down to where Whumpee was kept. When they finally found and killed Whumper, the enemy leader, they’d said something strange before the final blow was delivered.

“Good luck with your little rescue. You may find them, take them home…but they’ll never be the same again.”

Everyone else chalked it up to Whumper being cocky, but it stayed with Caretaker. What the hell did that mean?

They tried to forget about it as the group finally arrived at the cellar door. It was locked, but one of the stronger members was able to wrench it open. Caretaker braced themselves for what they’d see, for how Whumper supposedly changed Whumpee beyond compare.

But Whumpee looked completely unharmed. They sat against the wall of the cellar, looking scared but uninjured. However, the sound of the door opening and the footsteps approaching sent them into a panic.

“W-Wait! Stop, please, you said you were done!” They cried, pressing themselves against the wall even more.

Caretaker was immediately confused. Whumpee was terrified, begging for mercy, but they were staring right at them. Couldn’t they see that they were being rescued?

“Whumpee…it’s us,” Caretaker said, holding a hand back to stop the team from advancing too quickly. “Whumper is dead…we’re here to save you.”

Caretaker’s voice immediately made Whumpee relax. “R…Really? It’s really you?” They tried to stand, but their balance was off.

Caretaker nodded and stepped forward. Again, they were confused. Why would they ask if it was them if they could see them right there?

“Yeah, it’s…it’s really us, bud.”

The team helped Whumpee up and eventually got them back safe to the home base. Whumpee was walking fine, but they were slow. They needed someone to guide them. Caretaker thought about Whumper’s final words again. What the hell have they done?

“Whumpee…I need to ask you something,” Caretaker said while they were in the medical bay. Medic was silently checking them for injuries and treating them, and Caretaker stayed for emotional support.

“Hm?” Whumpee was staring blankly forward. They usually made eye contact, but not now.

“Why…why didn’t you recognize us?” Caretaker asked. “When we came to get you, you acted like you didn’t know it was me.”

Whumpee’s shoulders tensed. “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They lifted their arm for Medic to take a look at it.

“You only knew it was me when I started talking,” Caretaker said. “But you were looking right at me.”

Whumpee swallowed. “I…”

“They’ve been blinded.”

Caretaker snapped their head to look at Medic, who was still casually checking Whumpee for injuries. “What?”

Whumpee looked down, defeated. Tears brimmed their eyes.

“Yeah. Look.” Medic walked over to their work table and grabbed a flashlight. They lifted Whumpee’s head and shone it into their eyes. They flinched at the sensation of light in their face, but Medic held them still. Their pupils didn’t shrink.

Whumpee finally smacked the flashlight out of Medic’s hand, and it clattered on the floor. They jumped when they heard it hit the ground. “…S-Sorry.”

Medic just shrugged and started checking their other arm.

Caretaker was dumbfounded, but everything made sense now. The way Whumpee was acting. What Whumper said.

“Whumpee…”

“It’s fine,” Whumpee said quickly.

“No it’s not, you—we—”

“I’ll adapt.” Whumpee reached out and put a firm hand on Caretaker’s shoulder. “I can still see light, and some shapes…maybe it’ll even come back. But you can’t lose your head over me.”

Caretaker took in a shaky breath. But they knew Whumpee was right. They were strong, and they could figure this out.

I recently was gifted the Sky Jellycat and have since noticed that his eyes are usually covered by his fur. So, I came up with this headcanon that Jellycat's sky dragons are all blind.

Now, they didn't used to be blind. Millions of years ago, they had eyes but they all went blind eventually due to looking at the Sun too much. This caused the dragons to be more vulnerable as they got older due to the major shift in senses.

TW! burns

Whumpees who can't open their eyes

Whumpees whose eyes have been glued or sewn shut

Whumpees who are so used to being in the dark or in a blindfold that hospital lights, let alone sunlight, are too painful

Whumpees who close their eyes during a flash back

Whumpees who have missing or mutilated eyes

Whumpees who are blind or who have been blinded, and having to navigate freedom without being able to ground themselves visually

Whumpees who can no longer engage in their favorite hobbies because they required sight

Whumpees with night vision who can't see in broad daylight

Monster Whumpees with several eyes that are slowly being picked off by Whumper as if they were treating themselves to dessert

Whumpees with infected or swollen eyes or cataracts

Whumpees with chemical burns and scars over their eyes

Blindness is a spectrum! I have what is called tunnel vision, which is basically nature's version of horse blinders (yippee), aka I have 20/20 vision for what I *can* see, I just don't have peripheral vision. This basically means I trip over cracks in the road, toddlers, wet floor signs, anything below hip height. It also makes it extremely difficult to spot cars, bikes, or other people while walking, so I use a red and white cane 🦯 to let other people know I have some pretty serious eye issues so they don't run me over.

If you wanna get technical, I'm "low vision", but I don't use that label for several reasons:

1. Most people don't know what that means, and when you're in a rush where vision is only somewhat relevant ("where is the station?") it wastes time you don't have trying to explain a new concept. Plus, people love asking followup questions. *Lots* of em.

2. I identify closer with the label "blind". So much of my life has become defined by what I *can't* see. Most of my physical injuries in the past year have been from objects I couldn't spot and my cane didn't catch. I know one of these days my luck will run out and I will get hit by someone on a bike not paying attention... If it happens to fully sighted people, it'll happen to me too. I genuinely can't see shit in the dark, thanks to night blindness. Same with bright light- painful squinting or closing my eyes altogether. Basically, there's a hell of a lot more my vision can't do than can, so I prefer calling myself blind.

A lot of people don't know blindness is a spectrum, so when they hear me self identify that way they often think it's either an exaggeration or that I'm faking it because their idea of blind is "someone who cannot see anything at all". The reality of blindness is it ranges anywhere from spotty vision to light perception to blurriness so bad glasses can't fix it. Of course, I can't speak on other people's experiences with blindness. I'm only talking about my own and what I've learned from the doctors who treated me when I first got my diagnosis. If you're interested, I'd highly recommend doing your own research as well including accounts from people with various eye issues, so that you can better understand the ways different things fall under the blindness spectrum.

About a month ago a group of talented artists reanimated Treasure Island cartoon, and that was amazing!! And my deepest memories were unlocked - that was an important story (cartoon/book/movie) in my childhood