#rough caretaking

[whumpd-up-kicks]

A character who's been shot is captured by enemies/bad guys. They're bleeding badly, and their captors need them alive. The bullet is removed, and the wound is poured with alcohol and bandaged tightly - none of it is done gently, and, being tied up (and maybe gagged), they can do nothing but scream and cry out in pain while enduring the rough treatment.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this,"

Content warning: gunshot wound, rough caretaking

“Damnit, why the hell would you do that?!”

“I didn’t–I–,” Hero only stuttered in response, barely understandable. They were practically limp at Villain’s side, arm draped over Villain’s shoulder as they were dragged through the wilderness surrounding Supervillain’s forest.

Hero’s breath was coming out in panicked, choked wheezes, eyes wide and distant. Each frantic beat sent another gush of blood down their body, dripping from Hero’s side to fill the space between Hero’s and Villain’s bodies. Villain could feel the blood beginning to drip down their leg.

“I don’t need you to take a damn bullet for me! Not when we have no idea what Supervillain is capable of!” Villain hissed, voice tight.

“I don’t know why this is happening–!” Hero squeaked, a half scream. Their usual confidence was shattered, replaced with a genuine, raw fear that put Villain’s teeth on edge.

Villain didn’t know why it was happening either. Hero had taken far, far worse than a bullet without so much as bruising. A bullet should’ve been nothing to them. That fact was the only reason Villain had agreed to their teamup to defeat Supervillain. Hero was there to act like their shield, a big, dumb wall of muscle between Supervillain’s men and Villain.

So when Hero, that ever smug grin plastered onto their face, had swooped in between Villain and the barrel of Supvervillain’s gun, Villain’s only concern was the self-satisfied comments they would have to endure for allowing Hero to save their life.

They hadn’t expected shock to replace Hero’s grin. They hadn’t expected Hero to drop to the ground like a rock at their feet, eyes wide as red spread across their torso. They hadn’t expected a gleeful cackle from Supervillain, nor that the next sound to come out of Hero would be a scream.

And now they were running, dragging Hero’s half-limp body through the forest, Supervillain’s henchmen on their tails. They would die out here, hunted like simple prey animals, if something didn’t change soon.

“We’re stopping here,” Villain abruptly spoke, stopping when they found a small clearing. They moved over towards a fallen tree and, ignoring Hero’s cries of protest, rearranged their body to rest in a sitting position.

Hero’s body shook with effort as they tried to sit down. Their strength failed them halfway through, knees buckling and nearly sending them crumbling roughly to the ground. When they were finally positioned against the tree, Hero’s hands instantly moved to cover their injury.

Villain kneeled down and batted the hands away. Hero’s bloodied fingers still hovered anxiously near their torso.

It looked like a normal bullet wound, a fact that itself put Villain’s nerves on edge. Blood poured insistently from it, the red stain spreading with each second. Hero wouldn’t survive losing blood at that rate for long.

Villain leaned closer, until their eyes caught a flash of light. In the darkness of the forest, Villain could see something flashing a dull, unnatural green inside the wound. Whatever Supervillain had created to attack Hero with, it was still inside.

“I’m going to take the bullet out. Hold still.”

“W-what?! No-nononono I don’t–,” Panic instantly gripped Hero, their already paleing face nearly turning sheet white. They attempted to stumble to their feet, only to crumple back down with a choked gasp. “I’ve taken worse than this! Just–don’t touch it!”

“You have taken worse. I’ve personally thrown worse at you, and I’ve never once seen you bleed,” Villain pulled away for a moment, digging through their toolbelt to find anything they could use. “Something is wrong. Whatever bullet Supervillain made, it’s nullifying your powers. We have to remove it; you’ll either bleed out or be killed by Supervillain’s forces otherwise.”

“No!” Desperation laced the shout, so raw that Villain couldn’t help but stare at Hero in shock. Hero’s eyes were wild with terror as they squeezed their body against the tree, as if they could sink into the wood and hide away.

“I–I’ve never had to do anything like this! Nothing–,” tears were flowing unbidden now, leaving Hero to gasp pitifully. “Nothing’s ever hurt me! It’s gonna hurt, oh god it’s gonna hurt…I can’t do it!”

For a moment, Villain only stared, taken aback at hearing Hero, brave and obnoxious Hero, blubbering like a civilian.

The cruel part of their nature wanted to laugh. Here was their brave nemesis, someone who flew into danger without a second thought, who had faced countless enemies without fear, sniveling like a child at the doctor’s office. It was laughable, that Hero would be so terrified by something as simple as pain.

But the true terror, so foreign on Hero’s features, killed any humor Villain could feel at the situation.

It was very possible that Hero was right, that they’d truly never experienced something so natural as pain. When would they have, when even deadly force did nothing but inconvenience them? If a building falling on them couldn’t cause a bruise, what chance did everyday life have of harming them?

Hero had spent years, perhaps their entire lives, flying above the woes of mankind, immune to the pain they fought to protect others from. They’d simply never been hurt. And now their first taste of that so natural of hardships came in the form of a bullet lodged in their side.

For a brief moment Villain envied their usual immunity. For a much longer moment, they pitied Hero for their ignorance.

But they didn’t have time for pity.

“Please!” Hero sobbed, “Please, just leave it! It hurts, it’ll hurt–,”

“Look at me,” With rough hands, Villain grabbed Hero’s chin, silencing their pleas. They forced Hero’s tearful gaze forward. Terrified, shining eyes meeting Villain’s own determined glare.

“Yes, it will hurt. It’s going to hurt like hell, and you’re going to act like the damn hero you claim to be and take it. Do you understand me?” Villain didn’t break their stare for a moment. “I am not letting you die here. Supervillain doesn’t deserve the privilege of ending you. It is going to hurt, and you are going to endure it and save both our asses. Alright?”

For a long moment, Villain thought Hero would continue to fight them. They were still trembling, jaw shaking with muffled sobs, tears dripping onto Villain’s hand. Their whimpers were the only sound in the clearing.

But then something shifted in their eyes. It was not their usual strength or determination, it wasn’t bravery. It was something tearful and weak, but so trusting that it nearly knocked Villain off their feet.

So faintly that Villain almost mistook it for a tremor, Hero nodded. Villain nodded back.

They made quick work of preparing themselves. They turned to grab a handful of their cape, quickly tearing several strips to act as bandages. They scanned the forest floor and, after a moment of searching, found what they were looking for.

They brushed the dirt from a nearby stick, and presented it to Hero.

“Here, bite down on this. You’ll need it.”

Hero didn’t reach to grab the offered gag. Arms still pinned to their torso, Hero opened their mouth, leaning forward only slightly. Not unkindly, Villain placed the wood between their teeth. Hero bit down.

Gently, Villain moved Hero's body to the forest floor, laying them flat to expose their wound. Hero whined, low and pained, but their eyes never left Villain.

Villain returned to their toolbelt. After a moment of digging in their toolbelt, they found what they were looking for. A pair of long, thin tweezers, usually used for handling delicate wires, was held in their fingers. It would have to do.

Villain pulled themselves closer, trapping Hero’s legs with their own so they could sit over them, giving themselves full access to the injury. “Now, I need you to let me see your hands.”

Hesitantly, Hero’s hands moved instead to rest against Villain’s knees. They squeezed, grip tight.

Villain reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Hero’s face.

And then they got to work.

[whumblr]

Infection

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” Zayne shot up in bed. “What are you doing, it’s the middle of the ni–”

Jay’s shallow breathing and soft pained moans continued despite the outburst, half asleep but still awake enough to feel the searing pain stabbing into his abdomen. He lay almost motionless under the covers except for the occasional harsh twitch and his torso quickly rising and falling.

Zayne’s anger evaporated; his voice softened but was still urging. “Turn over.”

Jay felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him onto his back.

Even in the dark, with barely more than some moonlight and streetlight trickling through the blinds, Zayne could see something was very wrong. Jay’s face, gleaming with sweat, was wrought into a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut, lips parted to allow fast shallow breaths.

A large hand slid over his forehead and instantly pulled back again. “Shit, you’re hot.” He wiped his hand on the covers. “And sweaty.”

He pulled the covers back and Jay mewled softly as cold air brushed over his searing skin. Even Zayne’s fingers, brusquely grasping at the hem of his shirt, felt icy in comparison. “Don’t… don’t touch me—” he muttered, cut off by a soft gasp as the cold air directly swept over his abdomen.

“Shit.” Zayne’s voice.

Jay glanced down. The cut crossing the side of his abdomen, graciously bestowed on him earlier that evening, had opened up again. The skin around it was almost as red as the pulsing core of the wound. Blood pooled in the cut, as if reluctant to seep out. And when he shifted, a drop of liquid did tip out, tickling slowly over the swelling, but the colour was murky and he couldn’t quite call it blood.

Shit… he mentally agreed, and let his head fall back onto his pillow.

The mattress shifted. Hurried footsteps circled the bed. Clattering noises came from the bathroom, cabinets opening and closing again in fast succession. Water rushed against the sink, the stream interrupted every now and then - fingers checking the temperature - before it turned off. Then a short silence. All the lights turned on – he squinted and turned his head with a protesting groan – and the mattress dipped under him again, this time on his side of the bed.

Fingers brushed over his side, but with more care. They were warmer as well, leaving little drops of water, likely to evaporate soon against his hot skin. A hand over his ribs nudged him lightly and without thinking Jay followed along, turning away and turning his side up.

Waterdrops tinkled against ceramic, a cloth being wrung out, the hand on his ribs pressed down harder and despite these warning signs, Jay was still caught by surprise when a sharp pain stabbed into the cut.

He yelped out a protest, bucked fiercely and twisted round wanting to bite Zayne’s head off like an injured dog.

“Don’t touch that!” he snarled.

“I have to,” Zayne simply said, nudging him back onto his side.

The water burned in the sensitive wound, as if the knife dipped in again. The fibres of the cloth scratched like spikes of sandpaper instead of soft cotton, scraping over the swollen skin. Jay cried a strangled note into his pillow, fingers tightening into a fist clutching his duvet.

Zayne carried on; ignoring cries of pain was something he was quite good at by now after all. But his trademark grin was nowhere to be found and his expression betrayed an utmost focus. He carefully swiped the cloth over the wound, dabbing at the blood, cleaning it the best he could. He caught the drops of water running down Jay’s back with a towel and lightly rested a hand on his hip, giving an uncharacteristic but reassuring squeeze.

All alarm bells went off in the form of liquid sloshing, the bottle of anti-septic being turned upside down against cloth, releasing a sharp scent and fresh anxiety. Jay flinched hard, but the hand now clamped on his hip was merciless and kept him firmly in place.

“This will—”

Jay shrieked, buried his face into his pillow and screamed some more as Zayne spread the stinging solution over every millimetre of the long cut.

Finally, he pulled away. The burning still lingered, but Jay’s shoulders relaxed and he resurfaced from his pillow.

“Do you think we need to use the ointment too?” Zayne asked, rummaging in the first-aid kit and holding up a tube.

“If it’s clean, it’s clean,” Jay managed in-between sharp breaths, really not looking forward to more. He was fully awake by now.

Zayne nodded, still inspecting the cut. Then a soft thunk as he dropped the tube back.

Jay lightly turned, watched as Zayne hesitated which dressing to use. “Not that one,” he breathed out. “It’ll stick to the wound.”

Another nod and Zayne carefully dressed the cut, coaxing out some more smaller moans of pain but they quickly died down.

Jay sighed in relief when the fingers brushed away and he felt Zayne sit back up. He was surprised to hear the same exhale from Zayne. They sat in silence for a bit, back to back, until Zayne said:

“Your breathing is less shallow.”

“It’s not hurting as much now.”

He heard light tapping and shifted onto his back, peeked an eye open to see Zayne reading something on his phone.

“Where are you?” Zayne suddenly asked.

“At home. In bed. With you,” Jay finished crankily.

“Okay, so you’re not confused or delusional…”

He was very confused, actually, but more because of Zayne’s genuine concern.

“Do you have muscle cramps?”

“Not more than usual.”

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“No, just tired.”

“Did you pee less than usual today?”

“What?”

“How is your—” A muttered curse and two fingers pressed against the side of his throat, just under his jaw. “Okay… I think,” he said after counting for a few seconds. He put his phone on Jay’s side table and picked something else from the first-aid kit. “Open up,” he said, nudging Jay’s chin, and forced a thermometer under his tongue. He held up a stern finger into his face. “No protesting.”

Jay still moaned an indignant tone, but kept his mouth shut. Stared straight up at the ceiling until he felt Zayne pull at the thermometer and opened up again.

“38.6…” He glanced at Jay in question.

“Quite high for me, but should be fine.”

A hand slithered to his neck and tilted him forward. Zayne pressed a glass to his lips and Jay carefully took a sip. Winced at the taste and sputtered, twisting his head.

“Drink up, you baby.”

“You caused this!” Yet he also fixed it… And before he could protest further the glass was forced to his lips again, tinking against teeth. All gentleness had evaporated and he drank up obediently, pulling a face at the last sip as the last remnants of the crushed aspirin slid down his throat.

Zayne ignored the disgusted blegh and put everything back into Jay’s first aid kit. He eyed the white dressing over the cut, as if daring it to turn red again. “Maybe go see a doctor tomorrow?”

“Not if I don’t have to.” Jay swiped Zayne’s hand away that was reaching out to pull his shirt back down. He could do that himself, thank you. He did let Zayne pull the covers back over him. Which, yeah, he could’ve done himself, but large movements were… well, he didn’t fully trust Zayne’s wound dressing, he mentally settled on to push the gratitude away. He let himself slide down from the pillow, wincing and hissing as the movement pulled at the cut.

He heard Zayne rinsing the glass in the bathroom. A thunk next to him as a new glass of water was offered – deposited – for the night without a word.

Then the lights turned off and, unfortunately, Zayne got back into bed again. Jay couldn’t turn away from him—or well, maybe he could, but pain had shifted to a light fear and he didn’t want to unsettle the wound or tear it open again so he just lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling, lightly pondering what had just happened. He was tired as fuck anyway, he’d soon drift— Zayne’s soft voice pulled him back.

“Wake me, if something’s… if it feels wrong.”

-

Tag list:

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror

@susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime

@freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks

@hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion

@afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8

@itsmyworld98 @painless-and-colourful @withdrawingramen @lolrpop @nugget4427

[jordanstrophe]

A protective caretaker that yanks whumpee's hand away from something (or someone) they think is going to hurt them.

*Bonus: Then not letting go.

[whumpster-dumpster]

When the others don't understand just how bad it is until they see the gruff one being so very careful and gentle with the whumpee

[critterbitter]

How did Elesa get a Blitzle as a starter if she's from Sinnoh? (hang on this is ironic she could've learned about warden ingo in school back there)

Blitzle Elesa backstory under cut!

Blitzle was gifted to Elesa so she has an “easier time” integrating into Nimbasa by her well meaning dad. This is not the greatest move, since the two feel they are more obligated to stick together then, you know, actually choose each other. Blitzle’s meant to be a utility mon— he helps charge elesa’s hearing aid batteries and basically serves as an emotional support when things get rough. He’s… not the biggest fan. (I like to imagine Blitzle was originally part of a battle track, but his IVs aren’t the greatest so they shuffled him out. He’s a bit bitter about that.)

Inciting incident where they actually start taking the proper steps to becoming partners is when Elesa takes a tumble down a hill and Blitzle twists his foreleg going after her. (Local child eats shit! More at 11.)

They’re just kids, and they’re still learning.

(When Elesa decides to challenge the gyms, Blitzle’s so excited he accidentally trips their house’s circuits.)

((As for Elesa hearing about Warden Ingo, well… that’ll be a future issue.))

((DIRECTLY INSPIRED BY THIS ASK!! TY @scarftale-bryan ))

Yes. YES.

MASTERLIST FOR POKEMON CONTENT:

[whumperoni-and-wheeze]

Caretaker dressing whumpee's wounds? Yes please.

"You're doing great hun, just another stitch."

"Hey you need to take deeper breaths, I'm not gonna put you into shock right now."

"We can take a short break, but I need to dress your wounds."

"I'm surprised you don't have sepsis right now, these wounds are so infected..."

"I'm gonna have to pour some hydrogen peroxide, and this might hurt."

And my personal favorite:

"Bite the belt if you need, you can't scream right now."

[whump-galaxy]

Something about two characters sparring. One is already pretty emotional, throwing harder and harder punches, moving faster and landing jabs.

The whumpee’s having a good time, at first. But then each hit starts landing, and their friend if going for more sensitive areas like their head. They try timing out, but it’s like their friend doesn’t hear them, or worse, is ignoring them.

It isn’t till they’re on the ground with a broken nose and bloody, bruised face that their friend finally stops.

The whumpee croaks out two words.

“You alright?”

[mj-iza-writer]

Rough grumpy Caretaker... how I love them. -MJ

Warning.... swear words used.

Caretaker peaked in to check on Whumpee, they had just put them down for a nap.

They slightly opened the door and caught Whumpee darting into the bed.

"You better have a really good reason for being out of that bed", Caretaker opened the door further.

"I'm sorry Caretaker, I....", Whumpee started to violently cough.

"Oh Whumpee fuck off and give me a break", Caretaker slipped into his old British sailer accent.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to grab my book, and then you came along", Whumpee pleaded.

"I didn't put you to bed to read. You are very sick and need to sleep. That temperature of yours could freaken cook an egg", Caretaker sighed as they started to tuck Whumpee back into the blankets.

Whumpee groaned as the blankets were violently shoved under them.

"Ouch, can we be a little gentler please", Whumpee winced, "I am sick after all."

"Oh hush", Caretaker held a cup of water and offered Whumpee a drink, "now if I come back to this room again and you are up, I will tie you to the bed. Am I clear? I better hear happy Whumpee snores."

Whumpee grinned.

"I mean it, unless you are getting a drink or going to the bathroom do not get up", Caretaker sighed as they set the cup down, "work with me here. Your complexion is horrendous, I mean, white paint has more color. Plus, your trash bin is overflowing with tissue for the second time today."

Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry Caretaker."

Caretaker ran his hand through Whumpee's sweaty hair, "that's better. Now, we need to focus on you getting better. Please try to get some rest, I'll have some food and medicine ready for you when you wake up... okay?"

Whumpee nodded again, "thankyou."

Caretaker waited thirty minutes before checking on Whumpee again ... thankfully Whumpee had finally listened and was snoring away.

"My happy little chainsaw", Caretaker marveled at how loud Whumpee was as they stepped into the room.

They grabbed the thermometer and tucked it under Whumpee's tongue without disturbing their sleep. Even the ding didn't wake Whumpee.

"Temp is a little better now", Caretaker looked the thermometer over, "not where I'm wanting it to be though."

Caretaker sighed, "shit", he whispered, "I might have to take you in for some better medicine. What I have might not be cutting it."

Caretaker was fixing some soup for Whumpee when they heard them moving around.

"Dinner's almost ready if you want to come down here", Caretaker called.

Whumpee struggled down the hall.

"I just woke up and puked", Whumpee frowned.

"Let me guess, you didn't get to the bucket in time", Caretaker sighed, "where did it end up?""

"I did get to the bucket, but some got on my blanket to... sorry", Whumpee looked down.

"Okay", Caretaker sighed, "go ahead and eat, I'll clean it up."

Whumpee was hunched over when Caretaker came back.

"Whumpee?", Caretaker panicked, "Whumpee?"

Whumpee jumped up and started to mumble.

"You're going to the hospital... now", Caretaker hurried.

"No, no. I'm fine", Whumpee mumbled with a slur.

"Don't argue, you're fucking going to the hospital. You're beyond fine", Caretaker went to help Whumpee stand.

"Okay, but I can walk", Whumpee started to get up.

"Oh, you want to walk by yourself. Okay, that sounds fun to watch. Okay, let's see", Caretaker crossed his arms.

Whumpee started to walk, but fell forward.

"Shit", Whumpee moaned.

"That's what I thought. Alright come on, work with me. I'm not dragging your ass, but you won't make it by yourself", Caretaker threw one of Whumpee's arms over his shoulder and led them to the car.

Whumpee's temperature was checked on arrival at the hospital. It had jumped back up again.

Caretaker helped Whumpee into a chair and followed the staff as they rushed them back.

Caretaker sighed as they started to fill out the forms, "Whumpee", Caretaker muttered to himself, "pain in my ass. You're lucky I love you... at least a little bit."

Whumpee squinted their eyes open, the morning sun met them.

They jumped up realizing this was not their bedroom.

"Easy", they felt Caretaker's hand grab them, "you're okay, your fever got really bad. I had to bring you to the hospital."

Whumpee rubbed their head, "I've got a major headache", they looked around the room, "the last thing I remember was sitting down at the table, I don't remember anything else."

"Well, the staff here has been very helpful in getting your fever to break, they got you on some medication and fluids", Caretaker sighed.

"That's good", Whumpee leaned back again, "I still don't feel great, plus, this headache."

"We'll get you better", Caretaker pressed the call button, "I promise."

Whumpee nodded as they laid down, "thankyou Caretaker."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

[whumpdaydreamerx]

The Blacklist 1x09 | Donald Ressler Shot

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 29: Not Allowed To Die

Content warning: painful healing, temporary Whumpee death

The magic burned through them like lighting. Their body jerked with the feeling, spasming as once dead nerves were thrust back into new life. The feeling moved from their limbs inward, centering around a throbbing pain in their chest.

The magic focused on their heart. Whumpee felt phantom fingers circle their heart and press, forcing it to beat once more.

Whumpee’s mouth opened in a silent scream. They couldn’t breathe.

“Hurry, damnit!” There was a face above them. They were shouting, panic and exhaustion lacing their words. “I don’t–I can’t bring them back too many more times.” They felt hands digging into their shoulders, shaking.

“I’m trying!” Another voice, tense with concentration, responded.

The world smelled like burnt meat. Whumpee could see nothing but smoke in the sky, ash falling like snow. The forest was burning around them.

Through their tears, Whumpee saw a glow. Soft, warm, unlike the red of flames creeping in.

Glowing fingers dug themselves into the broken and bleeding hole in Whumpee’s chest, and Whumpee’s world went white with agony.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Someone was speaking again. Something wet dripped onto Whumpee’s face.

They could hear it. They could hear their bones snapping into place, feel burnt and dead flesh becoming raw and bloody. They could feel months worth of healing happening within seconds, concentrated and agonizing. It felt like their body was being torn apart all over again.

Whumpee felt their lungs, burnt beyond any natural means of repair, reform within their chest. They inhaled, shaking and desperate, and felt their lungs press into a pair of hands.

Whumpee screamed.

“Just a little longer, okay? You’re doing so good–,” the voice near their head spoke, voice trembling. Whumpee felt a hand brush against their cheek, wiping away tears.

Whumpee’s head lulled limply on their neck. They wheezed, and tasted nothing but ash and blood on their tongue.

“No Whumpee please! Just hold on–,”

The sound was fading, the world turning dark. The pain was becoming distant. Whumpee embraced it.

The world faded out, and Whumpee felt themselves die. Something grabbed them. Not their body, broken and laying dead on the forest floor. Something grabbed them, the soul that had finally separated from their flesh. It dragged them down, a vice-like grip dragging them back towards that inferno. Dragging them into that broken, burnt shell they’d just escaped. Bringing the pain closer. Whumpee couldn’t fight it.

Whumpee opened their eyes, body lurching, as magic willed their heart to beat once more.

“Please!” Whumpee sobbed. They just wanted it to stop.

“Just a bit more!” Those hands on their shoulders tightened, and Whumpee felt their magic tethering them to their body. “You’ll stabilize soon, you just need to hold on so they can heal you-!”

That healing, burning light returned to their chest. Whumpee didn’t have the energy to pull away. They could only scream as their body was rebuilt.

[the-baby-storyteller]

Heeheeheehee manhandling.

Throwing a resisting whumpee into bed

Moving a weak or feverish whumpee from one room to the next

Bridal carriesssssss

Lifting and hefting up a whumpee under the armpits to help them reach something

Roughly pulling a whumpee out of trouble and into their arms

Gripping a Whumpee’s wrist when they try to run away

Restraining ill or injuredwhumpee to make them stay in bed

[jordanstrophe]

Behave, 12

*:･ﾟ✧ SURPRISE  *:･ﾟ✧

[Masterlist]

CW: Whumper hospital, captive, restrained, manhandled, whumper turning caretaker, escape, annggssstt

A camera turned until it fixated on ‘the patient’. The patient who restlessly paced the small room back and forth, the camera keeping up with them like a spotlight. 

Whumpee stopped when the door started banging. They breathed shaken breath and put their back to the wall, their body aching in what was sure to be another series of ungentle tests. 

Whumper shoved their way inside and slammed the door behind them, shaking the wall whumpee had their back to as they jumped away from it. Without so much a hello, whumper grabbed both of their arms and pulled whumpee an inch from their face. 

“We’re leaving. Now. Right now.” Whumper hissed in their ear. 

The words didn’t seem to resonate. “Leaving” usually meant getting a walk around the halls for ten minutes and that was all the excitement they got for a day. But the way whumper said it this time, it meant something else. 

“Turn around.” Whumper grabbed their shoulders and twisted them to face the wall. Whumee’s wrists were grabbed behind their back as whumper tied them together with a strap. 

“Wh-...  What are you doing?” Whumpee froze. 

“I’m restraining you.” Whumper spoke in a hurry. 

“Why!? I didn’t take your keys this time!” Whumpee argued, squirming and pulling away. 

“I know! I know that, just... Just trust me, okay?” Whumper turned them back around and gave them a stern look. “Do you trust me?” Whumper asked in a calmer tone. 

It was a no, and a yes. Whumpee trusted them with their life, but didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt them. They had hurt them, countless times in the past.

“I-... I d-... I-” Whumpee stuttered, their eyes going anywhere but meeting whumper's unwavering stare. 

“It’s fine, whumpee it’s fine... I understand.” Whumper sighed, gently shaking them to quiet them down. “Just walk with me and behave yourself. Can you do that for me?” They asked.. 

“What’s happening?” Whumpee shook, worry painting their face. 

“Can you do it?!” Whumper suddenly raised their voice, jerking their shoulders as whumpee flinched into a nod. 

That nod was apparently good enough. Whumper grabbed their arm and led them out into the hall. It wasn’t gentle, or caring like they normally were. It was rushed, protective, forceful. 

“Hey!” A voice called behind them. They both froze and turned around, a doctor in a long white coat swiftly sped up to them. “What are you doing? You know you’re not allowed to see them anymore.” They shouted at whumper. 

Whumper let out a loud, drawn-out sigh. “Yes! Yes I’m fully aware of that! I just caught them trying to escape. We’re lucky I stumbled upon them in time.” Whumper argued back. 

~“What?”~  Both whumpee and the doctor gasped. 

“About had the door to the infirmary picked! I’m taking them straight to isolation.”

“I didn’t try to escape!” Whumpee barked at them. Their outburst was punished by a cruel yank as whumpee stumbled and almost fell over, having to use whumper’s shoulder for support. 

“Denying it won’t save you. We’re leaving. Now let's go.” 

Whumper turned whumpee back around and began leading them away. The doctor didn’t seem to want to argue and let them continue on with their punishment. 

Whumpee was too shaken to question what just happened. They trembled, and whumper who held the back of each of their arms could feel it. 

“You’re doing great, just keep walking.” Whumper loosened their grip and touched their shoulder. That was the touch whumpee was used to, gentle, calming. They didn’t walk to isolation either, but instead an emergency exit as whumper pulled out a key. They hesitated with it hovering over the lock.

“This will set off all the alarms, so we’re going to have to run, okay?” They whispered. 

Whumpee’s heart jolted a couple extra beats and surely their complexion visibly whitened. They looked at whumper, who only looked at them with seriousness.

"We’re leaving? Actually leaving?” Whumpee blinked.

“You’re not safe here and I can’t protect you anymore." Whumper smiled and touched their cheekbone.  

"Yes, whumpee. We’re leaving.”

-------------

[I really hope I managed to get everyone tagged who sent requests since the last time I updated the series. If I missed someone, please poke me with a stick] 

@serialobsesssor @fishtale88   @bluesoulpeace   roblingoblin285    @echo-of-umbra @whump-bunny  @pretty-little-whump @akaijisatsu  @whatiswhump @shannon-foraker   @whumpkitty @suspicious-whumping-egg @whatwhumpcomments  @whumpdreamz @elletheclover @whumpinhereyes   @veyroswin @dustypinetree  @anonintrovert  @cepheusgalaxy

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 5

CW for the series | Masterlist

You chose to feed them.

Talking can wait; Whumpee needs a decent meal.

“Come with me. I’m gonna get you something to eat,” you say to them.

They look afraid. You can't blame them; usually you'd only let them eat after you hurt them. That’s probably about to come back to bite you now. Still, they obediently follow you to the kitchen, where you get started on fixing them a meal. You give Whumpee a glass of water to drink while you prepare their food. They drink gratefully, then warily watch you as you work. 

It’s not too long before the food is finished and the smell of it is wafting through the air. You catch Whumpee watching hungrily before they look away as if to pretend they weren’t.

You fix them a plate, set it in front of them, and refill their water. “Here, dig in.”

They look at the food, then at you, as if searching for a trick. They make no move to eat any of it.

“Whumpee, you need to eat something.”

“I can't, I have to earn it!”

You feel a small twist of satisfaction that your conditioning worked so well, but that's really not helpful now that you're trying to actually help them. “You don’t have to do anything to earn it anymore, Whumpee, I’m giving it to you—no strings attached.”

“Th-thank you, sir, but I should earn it first. I know.”

“No, you don’t. You can just eat. Please eat.”

“I can’t, sir,” they say in a small voice.

“Yes, you can.” You push the plate a little closer towards them.

Whumpee shrinks in on themself a little and shakes their head.

“Whumpee. This is irritating.”

They whimper slightly but don’t relent.

You’re starting to get a bit desperate. Whumpee will have to eat sooner or later so they don’t starve. They’re not in imminent danger of that, but it still can’t be good for them to go without eating for too long. But to “earn it,” they’d have to get hurt, which is what you’re trying not to do anymore.

“Please?” you say.

Whumpee looks unhappy but still doesn’t touch their food.

The poll option character limit was murder on this one.

Taglist:

@kabie-whump, @whumpanthems, @whumpsoda, @3-2-whump, @generic-whumperz, @taterswhump, @alivenova, @whumped-by-glitter, @expressionless-fr, @whumpycries, @whumpsday, @moons-cozy-corner, @echo-goes-aaa, @whumplr-reader

[rileys-battlecats]

wanna give a heads up, some stuff irl is going on that means i probably won’t really be up for working on any videos or answering questions for a while. just in case i disappear from online for a few weeks/months, i don’t want it to be out of nowhere

[gremlinwithapen]

tw: crying, ostracized whumpee, (redeemed) villain whumpee, don't look too far into it I made this in a couple of hours to get the emotions from something unrelated out

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" Villain sobbed as she stared fearfully up at Hero, arms clasped tightly around her sides. "I-It was supposed to be a joke! I don't even watch those kind of movies…"

"Hey, hey, whoa," Hero raised their hands as they stepped into the room, trying to get a word in among the younger super's cacophony of emotion. "Slow down. What happened?"

"I-I was just talking with everyone, and e-everything was fine. I s-said something a-about a couple of civilians I w-was helping being fr-frustrating, a-and I joked a-about 'horror movie monster' on th-them," Villain whined, shaking softly. "Y-You know, weird s-superpowers a-and all. I-I don't know, I j-just blurted it out, and then they were all staring at me, a-and I saw one of th-them reach for a w-weapon-" "Th-they thought I was g-going to hurt them, Hero," her voice dropped to a whisper. "E-even after everything I've d-done, all th-the work I've b-been doing to be g-good, they thought I w-was going to hurt them."

"Oh, Villain," Hero murmured as they crouched down to be on her level, still a foot or two away to give her some space if she needed it. "I… Well, I'm not sure what they were thinking. But what I am sure of is that you aren't going to harm anyone here anytime soon. You've been trying your absolute hardest after everything Supervillain did to you, and you're doing amazing."

"B-But aren't you g-going to do something? W-What if I w-was going to d-do all that? Shouldn't you t-take my powers, j-just in case?"

"What? Villain, I'm not going to take anything from you. You just made a mistake, okay? We all say stupid things sometimes, and you didn't deserve to be treated like that after one throwaway line," they said, reaching out to lightly grasp her shoulder. She flinched momentarily but didn't pull away, even leaning into it a little. "All I need you to do right now is to learn from this and to not let it keep you down. You're a wonderful person, inside and out, and we're both gonna keep fighting to make everyone see that. Take as much time as you need to pull everything back together, but then I want you back up and doing your thing."

Villain didn't answer, but Hero knew that deep down, their words had gotten through. They stood up again, brushing their hair out of their face.

"Do you want something to eat, bud? You've been in here since this morning," they smiled, holding out a hand for her to grab if she wanted it. "I think the cafeteria's already closed, but I've got some emergency snacks back at the lab."

She seemed to pause for a moment, a numb fog of exhaustion creeping onto her features as her overclocked emotions finally ran out of steam. She nodded weakly as she grasped their outstretched hand, staggering to her feet.

"There we go. Let's get you somewhere a little comfier than an old supply closet, and we can figure it out from there," they said as they guided her along through the now empty halls.

"Thank you," she whispered as she stared off into the middle distance, her voice raspy from crying. Hero could tell they had a long way to go, but they knew it was worth it. It would always be worth it.

"Don't mention it," was all they said back.