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kira-the-whump-enthusiast · 2 years

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Through Thick and Thin - Diamonds to Dust Ch4

Synopsis: Zuri tries to help Storm with their stab wound—problem is, she’s never tried to do this before.

Content: Anxious/inexperienced caretaker, aftermath of stabbing, panicked first aid/medical care lol

Taglist: @whump-queen @ghostsinthecloset

—

As she’s fumbling with the first aid kit, Zuri is only about half-sure she knows what she’s doing. Usually, that’s enough for her to skate by, but she has the feeling that’s not going to suffice for trying to prevent somebody from dying from a stab wound. How did this blue-haired guy even get it in the first place?

The knife is still lodged in their chest, probably just under their sternum. Zuri is pretty sure that you’re not supposed to take it out because it staunches the bleeding—but she’s also pretty sure that you’re supposed to call an ambulance too.

But Storm looked so desperate—god, they begged her not to. Still, she doesn’t want them to die. A hospital would be leagues more equipped for treating this than she is, so Zuri reaches for the cordless phone on the floor.

Storm doesn’t seem to notice. Their breathing is labored and their face is scrunched up in pain. Zuri runs her fingers through her cornrows and feels a pang of mixed sympathy and panic.

“Alright… I’m gonna call for an ambulance, okay?” Zuri tries to steady her voice even as her heart races.

Storm’s eyes instantly widen with fear, and they turn over to reach for the phone. “No, no… you don’t—you don’t need to, it’s—it’s fine… someone’s coming to pick me—pick me up, already…”

Zuri panics and shoots her hand out to push them down back to a lying position. “Okay, okay, okay, I won’t.” She has no idea why Storm is refusing proper medical attention. It’s suspicious, but she can worry about why later.

Right now, she’s more concerned with ensuring that Storm doesn’t worsen their injuries. She lays the phone down on the floor. “See? Not calling. So, just, please don’t move, I’m pretty sure that’s just gonna make this worse.”

Storm seems to calm down a little bit, lying still except for the occasional tremor. Are they cold? Zuri makes a note to get them a blanket, but for now, she’ll focus on the stab wound.

Stopping the bleeding is the most important part, right? She grabs the bandages she was preparing and rips off a long strip. She places it over Storm’s wound, curling it around the long dagger stuck in their torso.

God. Who did this to them?

The pristine white bandages quickly turn dark red. Zuri remembers hearing somewhere that you have to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. She set her hands on the stab wound, awkwardly placing them around the knife.

“Sorry if this hurts,” she tells Storm. They look at her and nod.

She pushes down on the injury, deliberately not too hard, but Storm still winces in pain. Zuri cringes a little, but she keeps applying pressure.

After some time, she decides that the bandages have absorbed all the blood they can, and she goes to replace them. Her hands are now sticky and stained dark red. Ugh, that’s really gross.

Still, Zuri repeats the process a couple of times until the bleeding slows to an ooze. She breathes a sigh of relief. Storm is probably a little less close to dead.

She isn’t sure if there’s anything else she needs to do. It’s not like she can wrap the wound in bandages when the knife is still embedded inside. Maybe she should just wait for whoever Storm said was picking them up to arrive. Zuri hopes that the person is a doctor.

For now, she might as well just try to make them comfortable.

“Hey, Storm?” she asks.

Storm turns their head towards her. “Yeah…?” they mutter.

“I’m just gonna go get some blankets for you, ‘kay?”

They nod and close their eyes. Zuri quietly gets up and walks down the short hallway into her bedroom. There are a couple of throw blankets piled on her desk chair. She grabs one of them, a soft knitted thing made of grey yarn, and returns to the living room with the blanket piled in her arms.

Storm opens their eyes when they hear her walking into the room. She drapes the oversized blanket over them, and they smile.

“Thanks… you didn’t have to…” they murmur.

“Don’t worry about it,” she reassures them with a soft smile.

—

AN: Sorry it took so long to finish this chapter! School’s been kicking my ass recently lol

Anyways this was really fun to write! Panicked caretakers are actually golden I need to use that trope more

#whump #whump writing #panicked caretaker #anxious caretaker #villain whump #ish I guess since it's not super mentioned #but it's there a little #diamonds to dust series #oc storm #oc zuri #my writing #this is actually a pretty fun series to write. I can't believe I'm like doing writing now

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jordanstrophe · 1 month

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Whumpee woke with a sobbing shout. They quivered and panted, memories hit them as if they were still on the floor at whumper's feet. They felt arms wrap around them and beeping heard overhead; the sound worsened the pounding already in their head.

"Hey hey hey! It's okay. You got a lot of injuries, you've got to take it slow." Caretaker touched whumpees forehead and put them back against the pillow. They tightly gripped whumpee's hand and the other rested on their chest.

"Wh-where am I? How did I get here?" Whumpee panicked.

"You're in a hospital. I'm here with you, everything's okay. You're going to be fine..." Caretaker sadly smiled. Whumpee stared up at them with wide eyes, breathing like a wounded animal, gripping the back of caretakers hand with every ounce of strength, which was hardly holding them at all.

Despite caretaker's calm demeanor, whumpee could feel caretaker's hand shaking as much as their own.

"You-" Whumpee breathed, trying to raise their hand to them, but they couldn't.

"Yeah, it's me," Caretaker smiled, collecting their collapsed hand in their own. "I'm here, I'm taking good care of you. You can keep resting, okay?"

Whumpee shook their head no, their body still in fight or flight mode, wanting nothing more but to jump up and assess their surroundings. Caretaker could see their legs twitching and slowly inching off the bed as they sighed and scooted on the bed with them, pushing their legs back to the center.

"No hon, it's too early to be doing that." Caretaker soothed, laying whumpee's head on their shoulder.

It was almost as if as soon as whumeee's cheek settled, they relaxed and their heart rate slowly returned to normal beat by beat. Caretaker looked up at their monitor and sighed with relief watching the numbers stabilize.

#whump #whumpee #caretaker #caretaking #whump drabble #whump writing #hospital whump #hurt/comfort #comfort whump #injured whumpee #recovery whump #panicked whumpee #whump scenario #whump angst #stern caretaker #tw hospital

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hurtmyfavsthanks · 11 months

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June of Doom day 19

“I’m not going anywhere” (wound cleaning, succumb, chair)

Content warning: medical whump, forced drugging

"Please! Please–god, please don't –!" A slurred string of please spilled from Whumpee's mouth as they struggled against the two nurses trying to hold them still. Their movements were desperate, either uncaring or unaware of the damage they were causing their body as they forced themselves off the hospital bed. With each jerk and flail, a blood was left behind. It was clear that they’d reopened their wounds.

"We're going to have to sedate them!" One of the nurses shouted. "Their body can't handle this!"

Caretaker knew they were right. A cold sweat had already broken out on Whumpee's brow and their gown was becoming speckled with blood from both where they'd torn out their IV and popped their stitches. It was clear that pure panic and delirium were the only things keeping Whumpee fighting. They were exhausted. They were confused and terrified, and what they needed was rest.

Caretaker knew the nurses were right, and yet the sight of them attempting to manhandle Whumpee back onto the bed filled them with a protective anger they struggled to contain. Caretaker wanted nothing more than to tear the nurses off of them, but they couldn’t. Whumpee couldn’t afford to leave, even if they were too far gone to understand that.

Caretaker took a hesitant step forward, arms raised in a non-threatening pose

"Hey, hey…Whumpee, it's me, it's Caretaker," They kept their voice low trying their best not to agitate them further. They had to do something, anything, to get Whumpee the help they needed. "Everything's going to be alright."

Whumpee's head whipped around at the sound of their voice. For a long moment, Caretaker was unsure if Whumpee even knew who they were. But then a look of recognition flashed across their face, and the terror on their face shifted into something more vulnerable. Their eyes filled with tears as they reached their single free arm towards Caretaker. "Caretaker! Help me!"

The terror in their voice made Caretaker want to cry, but they refused to let the calming look on their face falter. "Okay. I'm going to get you out of here, you just have to calm down."

Whumpee’s eyes didn’t leave Caretaker as they approached, their struggle seemingly forgotten. The nurses stood still at Whumpee's side, too afraid of breaking the calm Caretaker had created to even remove their hands. It was only when Caretaker placed a hand on Whumpee's shaking shoulder that either of them dared to back away.

Whumpee wrapped their arms tightly around Caretaker, tears overcoming them with an ugly sob. Slowly, carefully, Caretaker led them back to the bed. "Whumpee, look at me. Just me. I'm not going anywhere," Caretaker paid no heed to the blood staining their hands. They stared into Whumpee's panicked eyes, blocking their view of the room with their body.

"Please!" Whumpee removed their arms from Caretaker's torso only long enough to grasp towards Caretaker's face, grabbing handfuls of their hair and pulling them closer until their foreheads touched. Their voice was a shaky whisper. "Help me. Please–please don't go–"

"Okay, I'm going to help you. You're going to be fine. You just have to trust me, alright?" Caretaker leaned into their desperate hold, slipping a hand between Whumpee and the bed to rub reassuring circles into the small of Whumpee's back. They waited until they were sure they could hold Whumpee before turning just enough to catch the eyes of a nurse. Caretaker gave them a pointed nod.

Seeing their signal, a nurse approached slowly, syringe in hand. Caretaker did their best to block Whumpee's view, but they could do nothing to stop Whumper from feeling the nurse's hand on their arm.

The response was instantaneous. "No!" Whumpee shouted, attempting to pull away. With Caretaker’s grip around their body, Whumpee lacked the leverage to pull their arm free. Caretaker could hear their heart pounding as panic overwhelmed then once more. "Stop, stop it! Leave me alone!"

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here," Caretaker soothed, their grip tightening slightly. Whumpee's struggled only increased.

"Let go, let go! Help, please! You said you would!" Each word was punctuated with one of Whumpee's fists colliding with Caretaker's back as Whumpee redoubled their efforts to escape, but to no avail. When the syringe entered Whumpee's arm, the screamed.

Hearing Whumpee's panick, seeing the anger and confusion and fear in the eyes, hurt more than any of the desperate blows Whumpee was throwing their way. Caretaker only held them tighter, praying that Whumpee would be able to rest soon.

Caretaker couldn't hide the waiver in their voice when they next spoke. "I'm sorry, but we have to. Everything's going to be better after this, I promise."

It felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than mere minutes before the drug spread throughout Whumpee’s system, its effects quickened by the pounding of their heart. As the minutes ticked by, Whumpee’s flailing arms came to rest against Caretaker's back, holding as if unsure if they should be pulling them closer or pushing them away. Their breathing leveled out, their sobbing devolving into quiet wimpers. But the look of terror and betrayal never left Whumpee's eyes, not until they finally shut.

Caretaker only let go once they were sure Whumpee was under. They looked down at Whumpee's tear streaked face, at the blood from their popped stitches that stained their medical gown. Somehow, it felt like Caretaker had failed to protect them again.

Caretaker flinched as a hand landed on their shoulder, turning to see one of the nurses smiling hesitantly at them. "Thank you. You might've just saved their life."

Logically, Caretaker knew it was true. But with Whumpee's blood drying beneath their nails, Caretaker only felt like they’d failed to protect Whumpee again.

#delirious whumpee #cruel to be kind #forced sedation #medical whump #sedation whump #caretaker #more caretakers should be forced to hold a panicking whumpee #more whumpees should be aware enough to recognize Caretaker but not to recognize that they're safe #june of doom #june of doom day 19 #my stuff #out of it whumpee

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moons-cozy-corner · 1 year

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Rescued Pt.4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

TW: hospital setting, mention of past torture, angry outbursts, paranoia

Villain had gone back to silence. Hero had almost cried hearing Villains voice again after so long, and an apology at that... but now he was back to laying stiff in bed, his eyes clenched shut and his jaw clenched. Like he was trained to just sit, to barely exist.

It wasn't fair. Whatever Whumper had done to Villain to make them like this had to have been horrible. Four fucking years Hero searched for their partner to find this. Four years of torture and pain Villain had to endure.

Hero had spent so many nights awake thinking about Villain. Thinking that he was dead. Losing hope was easy after a couple weeks. Then months and years passed and soon Hero was the only one left looking.

They'd told him --begged him-- to stop searching. He didn't, and now here Villain was. How much of Villain, Hero didn't know. But some of him was still in there. Somewhere.

For now, at least, all Hero could do was wait. Sit there and make sure his darling was safe and sound. That was all that mattered. That shouldn't be a problem anymore. Not that anyone would hurt them anymore. Superhero had gone crazy, sure, but was taken care of now. Whumper had a life sentence. Fucker wouldn't be near Villain ever again.

A knock at the door startled Hero out of his thoughts. "Erm- Hero, sir," the nurse whispered, looking nervously over to Villains stiff figure. Oh no. "I'd like to speak with you in the hallway, if you don't mind."

He nodded, of course, standing and following the nurse into the hallway. As soon as he closed the door Hero's hands started trembling. "Is Villain okay?"

"Villain is just fine. He's on a steady road to recovery from his injuries. It's... something else. You may want to sit down, sir." He obliged. The nurse took a deep breath, and Hero took the chance to steel himself, too. "There's been an alert... Whumper's escaped custody."

He looked at her in shock. "Wha-where are they? Why- how did they- what?" He jumped from the chair, nearly grabbing at the girl in front of him before stopping himself. Deep breaths. He ran a hand over his face before turning back to the nurse. She looked about ready to cry. "Shit- I'm sorry. Thank you for telling me. What security measures can we implement to make sure Whumper doesn't come after Villain?"

There was a bit of silence, the nurse steeling herself to give the news. "I'm not sure, Hero, sir. The hospital is refusing to care for Villain anymore. For, um, security reasons. Perhaps... take him home? O-or perhaps to the Organization headquarters?"

This couldn't be real. Whumper was roaming the streets, the hospital was kicking Villain out. And in this state? What assholes. "Fine. Great. How am I going to get him out of here, then? He won't talk, won't move, won't even open his damn eyes." Hero gripped his hair, turning around. Holding himself together was impossible. He didn't fucking care anymore. "You can't fucking do this! You can't just- you can't kick someone out of the fucking hospital! He needs help for Christs sake! Can't you see that?" His fists flew out, one hitting the wall behind him, one flailing about desperately in front of him.

Around him people were staring. Doctors stood around, ready to intervene. Great. Now you've made a scene. Hero scoffed before turning and walking back to Villain's room. They'd uncuffed him after the incident with Superhero, mainly because it was her stupid idea in the first place. Now Hero was in charge. That was another issue Hero now had to deal with. Hero had been next in line to become head of Organization for a while. Until he was officially promoted the Organization would be in shambles. A chaotic mess. And Hero also had Whumper to deal with now…

The Organization headquarters was their only option.

A doctor brought in a wheelchair to take Villain away in. Villain didn’t fight the movement as Hero transferred him onto it. Didn’t even flinch.

“Villain, dear, can you hear me?” Hero lay a blanket over Villains lap. It was thin and not very soft, but at least it was something. Hero tried tucking it in, tried touching his dreary face, tried patting his shoulder. Nothing fazed them.

They were still as Hero led him out of the hospital and helped him into his truck. Organization Headquarters was about a half an hour away, and Hero didn’t know what to do. Should he play music? Villain used to love it when Hero base boosted his favorite CD. It would probably just cause his lover to panic now.

He put the CD on anyways, ensuring that the volume was low. Hero pulled out of the hospital and began the drive to headquarters.

The drive was awkward, to say the least. There were so many things Hero wanted to say to Villain, all of them shoved back down in his throat at the mere sight of the other. It made him want to cry. So he turned the radio up. Just a little.

After that Hero sort of zoned out. It would have been wise for him to pull over, but he didn't care. He couldn't care. Then he heard a low humming that pulled him from his lulling thoughts.

It was Villain, humming softly to the music, his head lolling back and forth. Hero started crying, although silently, and did everything to keep his attention on the road, even though his vision blurred.

The humming stopped abruptly. "...Hero?" The voice was so quiet, Hero almost thought it was a trick of the wind. Looking over he could see Villain's eyes clenched, tighter even than before, but his mouth opened again. "Are... your truck, it- the windows are t-tinted, ri-right?"

He remembered the truck. He remembered the song. He was amazed. "Yes, dear, the windows are still tinted. Just like before." Hero's attention went from the road to Villains face every few seconds, back and forth and back and forth, almost dizzying. But he saw it. Saw him open his eyes, slowly, red rimmed and nearly crazed, but open.

Tears started to fall. There was no crying, just droplets of grief pouring from his eyes. The Hero's, too. "Hero, I ca-can't-" Hiccups and sobs racked their body. "Whumper, they-I can't, I have to-"

Hero pulled over. "Woah, slow down. It's alright, love, you're safe. Take some deep breaths with me." Hero took Villains hand and rested it on their chest. Up and down, Hero made deliberately exaggerated breaths to help their beloved Villain back into a calm state of mind. "Whumper is not here. They can not hurt you. I am here. Right here."

"Say my name," he blurted out. It took Hero aback, but of course he obliged. Anything for him.

"Villain. Your name is Villain. Villain, this is what you want?" He nodded vigorously, desperately. "Villain. I've got you Villain. Okay?"

He leaned his head against his head rest, resting his eyes again. "I'm... I'm Villain, not..." He trailed off. "I'm scared."

Now it was Hero's turn to sob. "I know, love. Villain." He led Villains other hand to his chest as well, slowly as to not alarm the other. "But you're here now. I've got you. I won't ever let go."

tag-list:

@alwaysalilhigh @nicolepascaline @whumped-inc @littlespacecastle @hollowgast1 @edkore @ramadiiiisme @writereleaserepeat @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @robinwrites @aswallowimprisoned @whumblrwork

#writeblr #writing community #writing #my writing #villain #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whump prompt #whump writing #hero caretaker #villain whumpee #villain x hero #villain x villain #hero #hero and villain #whumper #tw hospital #tw panick attack

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sadcatjae · 1 year

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The Demon & The Priest - Part 3 - Rest

Other parts can be found in the masterlist

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AHHHHH I'm sorry it took so long!! But here's part 3 ;A;

~~~

CW: Explicit language, explicit self-harm, mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, mentions of torture, mentions of non-con.

When he comes to, he finds himself restrained in a pair of strong arms. His muscles twitch and ache, and there’s a dampness on his cheeks that he doesn’t quite understand. A pathetic noise, something like a whimper, fills his ears, and it takes him a moment to realise that he’s the one making it.

The next thing he’s aware of is another voice, this one comforting and soft, murmuring meaningless words into his ear. “--you are safe. Hush now, Lial. It is over with. Calm yourself. You are safe.”

The demon shudders as the last of his fit leaves him, and his abused muscles finally relax. He goes limp in Julian’s arms, eyes fluttering close in sheer exhaustion.

A warm palm rests upon his forehead, and the heat sinks deep into his flesh.

“...I assume it didn’t work,” Lial croaks, twitching with the aftershocks.

“You assume correctly.”

The warmth disappears and he opens his eyes in quiet dismay. Above, Julian gazes down at him through hooded eyes, expression stony.

“That was beyond foolish, demon.”

“I’m an opportunist,” Lial says wryly, though his quip strikes like a brittle leaf.

With great effort, the exhausted demon drags himself upright. The priest slides out from behind, allowing him to rest against the bed.

“What now, priest? Your magic evidently has no effect and truly, that was my last gasp. If your light should fail me, then I–” Lial swallows the rest of his words, dread blooming in his gut like poison. His weary eyes flutter shut once more as he rides the cresting waves of pain - both corporeal and soul-deep.

“You will cease your pathetic self-pity,” Julian snaps, straightening up and patting dust from his pristine robes. He shoots the demon a razor-sharp glare, as though the latter had uttered the worst of blasphemies. “We have yet to exhaust all possibilities. This is but a minor failure - and I assure you, there will be many considering the nature of your affliction. You have come to me for salvation and I shall seek a method to do so. Grieve not what has yet to pass, for the fight is yet to begin.”

But Lial is exhausted. He’s exhausted and despairing and in the kind of pain that pretty words can’t soothe. For this infernal is facing the prospect of his mortality - something that had always been a shallow threat or an idle romantic thought. Ashaxi has not shied from promising his favourite plaything a true death, one of the body and soul. The kind that can keep an infernal in the ground. And Lial had thought of accepting such an offer more than once - while in the deepest throes of torture that seemed to have no end.

This time, however, his death looms. It’s not a mere threat or a thought, but an inevitability that shrouds his periphery like an oncoming storm. And as his mind goes, from sleep, from fear, and as the curse breaks down his flesh, death draws ever closer.

How long does he have? A week? A month?

This is Ashaxi’s favourite kind of torment. Slow and unknowable.

Lial clasps his hands together. His claws dig into his knuckles and thin rivulets of black stain his forearms. “Ten months, eleven months, almost a year,” he says in a monotone. “An entire year since I've been allowed to rest.” He glances at the impassive priest. There’s vulnerability in that raw look, like he’s been stripped down to the nerve. “You say that the fight is yet to begin, but my fight is near its end.”

“You cannot know the end. Not unless you seek it.” Julian huffs sharply through his nose, producing a handkerchief and flapping at those digging claws. “You have allowed me only one night of effort before accepting defeat. If you are to die, then die fighting. Claw not at yourself, but at the one who would inflict this suffering upon you.” He growls the last, an unfathomable anger building within like trapped lava. The damned infernal. Darkness take Ashaxi and his unholy ilk!

Julian grabs Lial’s arm and yanks him onto the bed. Face to face they are once again, and he takes those ink-streaked arms into his hands - not to embark on yet another foolish quest, but to clean the demon’s limbs of his blood.

With uncharacteristic softness, he wipes at Lial’s skin and his wounds, and the white handkerchief becomes soaked in black. There’s a delicate care in the priest’s ministrations, a kind of care that is so foreign to Lial. Every gentle touch has him internally quaking, and instinct tells him to pull away, stop this strange sensation - but Lial has no strength. So he sits quietly. Obediently. And watches in silence.

At one point, the demon whispers, “I’m tired.”

And the priest growls, “I know.”

“I’m going to die,” Lial exhales.

“You will not.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“I will not allow it.”

“Stubborn bastard.”

“Which is the kind of bastard you need.”

To which, Lial has no response.

Julian dabs the last of the blood from the already closed wounds on Lial’s knuckles. It’s fascinating - and enviable - at how quickly infernal heal. Then again, they feel pain the same as humans, and their physical invulnerability leads to careless disregard for their mental and emotional vulnerabilities. Mad and broken infernals are the leading cause of their dissent and antagonism as a race. Because of this, even one as obstinate as Julian is able to find a sliver of sympathy for the little devils.

“Refrain from mutilating yourself further, demon. I have but one other handkerchief I can soil.”

Lial sways, eyes grown heavy. “I have to stay awake,” he mutters. “I don’t want to…hurt anymore.” He slips his claws over his arms again to pierce – but Julian grabs his hands to keep them confined.

“I shall keep you awake,” the priest says, grimly. “Lower your claws. Save them for Ashaxi.”

The demon smiles weakly and a fang peeks out the corner of his mouth. “What chance do I have against a power to rival an Elder of the Light?” Lial says, echoing the priest’s words.

“A very good chance, if said Elder of the Light stands with you.”

Lial knows that what the priest said was significant, but he’s too hazy to fully grasp Julian’s meaning. His eyes slide close. The brume of sleep pads his mind; scours the edges of reality down to a blunt. He feels himself go slack and fall sideways–

And a hard shake jolts him awake.

“Keep your eyes open, Lial,” Julian says, sharply. “It is terrible etiquette to fall asleep during a conversation.”

“You and your fucking etiquette,” Lial grouses, but he opens his eyes all the same.

Julian’s tense expression relaxes a tad. He keeps a firm grip on the demon’s arms, keeping him upright. “Tell me more about your Lord. What transpired between you?”

“I told you–”

“Yes, and I am not a fool. Your coveting Ashaxi’s throne is a clear fabrication and I do not tolerate dishonesty well.”

The demon exhales tremulously. His hand wanders to his lower belly, where ghostly sensations tug at him from deep within. Cold sweat beads his wrinkled brow.

“Lial?” A warm palm cups his cheek. “Lial, you mustn’t sleep.”

“No, I’m not. I–” The demon absently leans into the heat, a glimmer of red peeking through the thick fans of white lashes. “Ashaxi favoured me. Truly.”

Julian’s intense gaze pours over the demon’s drawn features. He presses his lips into a tight line and sweeps his thumb across Lial’s cheek. Cold. Much too cold. “Am I correct in assuming that his favour is an undesirable notion?”

“I wet his appetite in a way none else could.” Clawed fingers trail across his belly. There’s his voice murmuring in his ear, darkly lascivious and vile.

A light tremble seizes the demon’s body, and with it a growing chill. It’s as if Ashaxi is here now: frigid breath puffed against his nape; elongated claws carving signs across his spine; his towering, muscular form crushing against his own, so much so that he can only release airless screams; and his voice, his voice–

Julian promptly rises from the chair and sits behind the shivering demon, pulling him into his arms. His outer robe is shed to place over Lial, trapping what little heat he’s able to generate. “Your temperature is dropping - rapidly,” Julian informs him, curtly. “Has this happened before?”

Weakened greatly - and too cold to object - Lial allows the priest this intimacy. The chill had been there for a while - ever since his arrival - but now it’s taken shape, a brittle case of ice that refuses to melt. Even if he leans into Julian’s heat, he only feels a moment of relief before the chill sharpens.

“Not like this,” he says, breath hitching. “This is…this is different.”

“Perhaps your body is repelling the light. It was a very invasive procedure. Or it could be…” Julian trails off and wraps his hands around the demon’s. Lial feels like ice - colder than ice, in fact. If he were human, he would be near death.

“...Or it could be the curse,” Lial mutters. "The next stage."

“Indeed.”

“M-Maybe it’ll let me sleep.”

“Do you wish to try?”

“I think it’s inevitable, d-despite my wishes.” Lial’s fangs clack together as they chatter.

Julian tightens his embrace, securing the demon within. Despite the heat inside their cocoon rising, it does nothing to affect Lial’s plummeting temperature.

Infernal are born from the cold fires of the underworld, so they are by nature cold creatures. However, they still have a limit that when breached can cause severe harm. Harm that they are able to heal, yes, but a needless suffering nonetheless.

Lial’s eyes slide close and small noises of suffering fall free from his pale lips. The sheen of sweat upon his skin crystallises and glints like scattered diamantes. Julian knows - with a sinking heart - that Lial might be right after all. That he is not long for this world.

“Rest, then,” Julian says quietly, hugging the long-suffering figure close to his chest. He holds Lial like he does the dying - an intimate embrace to ease fear and suffering; and the last human touch before they return to the light. “Rest easy, my friend. I shall watch over you.”

Lial must have trust in his words, for he goes limp in the priest's embrace. And though shivers continue to wrack his body, he is thankfully unaware of this discomfort. Sleep, finally, steals the demon’s senses, and for the first time in a year, Lial rests.

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @pattonvirglsanders @wolfeyedwitch @whumpsday @whump-blog @whumpnonny @extrabitterbrain

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Part 4

Masterlist

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#whump #whump writing #villain whump #hero x villain #villain whumpee #supervillain whumper #hero caretaker #demon whumpee #demon whump #julian tries to be all stoic and gruff but he's panicking the entire time #actually a big softie #lial sadge julian madge

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stabbynunchuckss · 1 year

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Day 18 of the wheel of whump

Today's prompt is:

Soft weighted blanket

-----

The woman's sofa was unnaturally soft compared to what Cooper had become used to over the past months, and he relished in the unfamiliar comfort, despite the cold that the nights often brought.

Until one night, as autumn was beginning to truly set in. Cooper had awoken on the floor, the thin blanket barely enough to keep him from shivering.

Abbie was standing in the doorway to the room, holding a lantern. "Power's gone," she sighed, glancing down at where Cooper was lying. "Oh- You must be freezing, honey. Let me see if I have some blankets anywhere, alright?"

Cooper nodded, sitting up against the sofa and tucking his knees into his chest. "Okay," he mumbled in response. "Thanks."

It was a few minutes before Abbie returned from where she'd disappeared to - most likely the attic - but when she did, she was carrying a blanket with her. Cooper smiled, slightly.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find any more, but you can take this one. It's weighted, so I'll understand if you don't like it, but... It's probably better than nothing."

"Thank you, A- Abbie." The name still felt strange as he said it, but he'd get used to it eventually.

Abbie smiled at him, before taking the lantern and heading back upstairs, to her bedroom. "Just shout if you need anything," she said as she left. "Hope you sleep okay."

Cooper took the blanket in his hands. It was a pale pink colour, soft and warm against his cold arms, and he pulled it tightly around himself, relaxing back onto the sofa.

The effect was immediate. It was as if someone had pressed a gentle weight against his chest, an almost reassuring thing. Cooper's eyes fell closed, and he pulled the blanket tighter - he'd stopped shivering, now, and was instead wrapped in this weighted blanket.

It wasn't human touch, by any stretch, but this was the closest that Cooper would get to any form of comforting physical contact. So he let the blanket drape over his shoulders, falling into an almost peaceful sleep.

#sorry this is almost late #i had a breakdown #so #wasn't exactly a priority for a minute there #but i've managed to stop panicking now #or at least postpone if until i've finished writing #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whumpblr #stabby's ocs #oc cooper #oc abbie #wheel of whump #365 writing challenge

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nami-writes · 1 year

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[ an apple | a day | (keeps the doctor) away ]

and the trilogy is complete!

content warnings: starvation, begging, panic attack, bad caretaker (but he's trying!)

They’re out.

After spending an hour painstakingly convincing Villain to swipe the keycard off the doctor, speeding through the city as far as they could get from the Heroes’ headquarters, they finally step into the apartment, Guard securely locking and deadbolting the door shut behind them.

Villain looks distant, not quite grounded in the reality of his newfound freedom. His knuckles are turning white from gripping the keycard so tightly, as if letting go will put him right back in his cell. He stands by the door motionless but just the sight of Villain in front of a wall not made of drab concrete makes Guard finally realize how far they’ve gotten.

They did it.

“We did it,” he says aloud just to let it sink in. “Holy shit. We did it.”

Villain’s eyes stare blankly ahead and he fidgets with the keycard, turning it over in his trembling hands without ever looking at it, bending it harshly. He doesn’t even seem to notice until the card snaps apart.

“Sorry,” he mutters, the first word he's said since they got in the car. “I’ll… I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You don't want dinner?”

Villain starts toward the couch. “No, sir.”

One day Guard has to tell him he doesn't need to call him that. Today, though, Villain’s malnourishment is the bigger issue. “You look like you're going to collapse any minute. You need to eat.”

Villain doesn't respond as he lies down.

“I'll start dinner and let you know when it's ready.”

He comes to the table when called but only sits there staring down at his food, poking idly at it with his fork. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t excuse himself from the table. Just sits there.

“What’s wrong?” Guard asks.

“Nothing.” Yeah, he expected as much.

“Come on. You’re finally getting a good, non-prison food meal, and you’re not eating it but nothing’s wrong?” He crosses his arms. “I don’t buy it.”

Villain’s fork stills. “Sick,” he mumbles.

“You still feel sick?”

He gives a small nod. “‘M sorry. I’m… I’m wasting your food.”

“No, I don’t mind. I get it, you’re still used to tiny rations of prison food,” he says. “The only thing I have a problem with is the lying.”

Villain shrinks into himself, head hung pitifully. “S-sorry. I’m— I’m sorry, sir.”

Maybe he should’ve saved this conversation for later. Confronting him now is just making him more anxious than he needs to be. “It’s fine. I’m not mad. I just… don’t like being lied to when I’m trying to help you, you know?”

“Yes sir,” he answers shakily. “Yes sir, I understand.” He manages to fork one bite of food into his mouth like that’ll be enough to satisfy Guard. “Can, can I go now?”

Villain can’t possibly be full but Guard has caused him enough anxiety tonight. “Yeah. Sure. You don’t need permission.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He doesn’t look up once as he makes his way back to the couch. Guard doesn’t end up eating much of his dinner either.

—

Guard wakes up to the sound of the door jiggling and his first instinct is to jump out of bed and rush downstairs. Someone’s trying to break in. He should’ve changed out those millennia-old locks ages ago, he knew they wouldn’t have held up much longer.

When he flicks on the lights, however, the supposed burglar turns out to be Villain, frozen in place as Guard stares him down.

“What are you doing?”

“I-I’m sorry,” Villain stammers, taking a step away from the door. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to try and sneak out, I didn’t, I just, I—”

Sneak out?

Guard steps forward but Villain stumbles back, hands searching behind him for somewhere to hide. What he finds instead is the shelf in the corner that holds Guard’s video games. “Please,” he says on the verge of tears, “please, I’m sorry, I-I should’ve, I should’ve asked permission, I s-should’ve—”

His breathing grows erratic and Guard realizes— he’s hyperventilating. “Hey. Shit, hey— it’s fine. It’s fine. I’m not mad. Slow down, breathe, it’s fine.”

He steps toward Villain but Villain only steps backward into the shelf, seeming to not even notice the wooden ledges digging into his back. It’s only when he finds nowhere else to go that he makes a run for the stairs.

“Villain!”

Guard starts to chase him but Villain yanks a chair behind him and clumsily jumps the dining table, knocking the vase on top over with a crash before scrambling up the stairs. Guard only stares at the mess of ceramic shards and water.

God damn it.

He’s torn between going after him and cleaning up the mess to avoid either of them slipping or getting hurt, but only for a moment. Upstairs he can hear frantic footsteps and a door slamming. Now he’s mad. It’s two in the fucking morning and he has neighbors and now a mess to clean too, but that’s not going to help calm Villain down and if he doesn’t calm him down he might just hurt himself.

This is stupid. He should be asleep. But he still sidesteps the broken vase and the chair on the floor and dashes upstairs to the only room with a closed door.

It’s blocked off. It opens maybe an inch but something heavy on the other side stops it. “Villain, I know you’re in there! Move this out of the way, I just want to talk.”

Villain sniffles between sobs on the other side of the door. Footsteps patter back and forth. He’s pacing. A bang sounds out, something hitting the wall. Mumbles Guard can’t make out.

“Villain, come on. I’m not gonna hurt you. Promise.”

There’s a loud, plasticky squeak and Guard realizes— this room has a window.

“Villain!” He bangs on the door and tries to shove whatever’s on the other side away. “Villain, I’m serious! Don’t do whatever I think you’re about to do! Villain, I swear—”

Silence. Almost so much that Guard thinks Villain really jumped out until he hears a sniffle behind the door. Wood drags on wood and the door falls open with Guard’s weight. He catches himself just in time.

The window is open and Villain is nowhere in sight. Guard has to turn around to find him cowering on the floor behind the closet blocking the door. He’s trembling so hard Guard can see it from where he stands and his face is hidden in his knees.

“Jesus,” Guard breathes. His heartbeat begins to slow with relief. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I-I’m sorry.” He doesn’t lift his head but his voice shakes with fear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t stop apologizing, almost robotically. Like he thinks if he proves he’s sorry enough he’ll be spared whatever punishment he thinks he’s going to receive. “Look, just— don’t worry about it. I accept your apology. You’re good.” He grits his teeth only a little bit. He’s just tired, he tells himself. “I was just scared you were going to jump out the window.”

Villain doesn’t stop apologizing. “I shouldn’t have run, I, I’m sorry sir, I should’ve, should’ve been g-good, should’ve… I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry…”

“Did you hear what I said?” he asks. It comes off as snappy but he doesn’t mean for it to. Maybe it’s good, though— it catches Villain’s attention fast. “I accepted your apology, okay? That means you don’t need to apologize anymore.”

He lifts his head just the tiniest bit. “...You’re not mad?”

Guard considers lying. It won’t do either of them any good, though. “I am mad. I’m upset that you made a mess in my kitchen and woke me up and probably my neighbors too.” He can see how much Villain tenses. “But I’m also tired, and it’s not that serious. I’m just worried about you and I haven’t slept enough to have my shit fully together yet.”

“...Oh.” He stares in disbelief. “I, um… I’m sorry. Sir. For making you worry. I-I’ll clean up the mess downstairs, I won’t do it again, I’ll be quiet even if you— if you punish me now.”

“No punishment, Villain. It’s not that bad,” he says. “Just get some sleep. If I’m tired, you must be exhausted. I’ll clean up.”

“But I made the mess. I… I b-broke your, your vase.”

Guard frowns. “Cleaning up isn’t a punishment for either of us. I just don’t want anyone to slip or get hurt.”

“Then I’ll help,” he perks up, then hesitates. “If— if you allow it. Sir.”

“You sure? You can go to sleep if you want. I won’t be mad at you for that.”

He nods. “I’ll help clean up.”

—

“Can I ask something you might not want to answer?”

Villain looks up from where he’s cleaning up the spilled water. “Yes, sir.”

“Were you really trying to sneak out?”

He averts his eyes back to the wet paper towels on the floor. “I, um…”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just… want to know if something’s wrong. So I can help.”

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to lie about that, sir,” he mumbles. “I just— I was s-scared, I didn’t, I didn’t want to be, um, in t-trouble, for trying to…”

“I get it. It’s fine, I’m not upset,” he says. “It’s just that I don’t understand why. It’s not safe for you outside. Why do you want to leave?”

Villain wipes up the water. He pretends to be too focused on the task at hand to answer just yet. Finally, he shrugs. “I’m still a villain.”

Oh.

It's guilt.

“Where were you going to go?”

There’s only one possible answer to that question. Only one place would ever actively want him. Villain doesn’t even need to answer.

“You can stay here as long as you want, you know. You’re safe here.”

Villain doesn’t respond so Guard leaves it at that. A reassurance of his safety. He empties his dustpan into the trash can, ceramic crunching as it falls, and leans it against the wall with the broom. “You gonna be okay finishing up on your own?”

“I guess.”

“Okay.” Guard picks up the fallen chair and makes his way to the stairs. “Call for me if you need me, okay?”

Villain nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Night.”

#writing #original writing #whump #cw starvation #cw begging #cw panick attack #cw bad caretaker #didnt know how to end this im ngl #but the concept and the dynamic are really interesting to me #would come back to this in the future but uhh i'd have to figure out the legal ramifications of #guard literally breaking out a citywide threat directly from the heroes' hq #we'll have to see if i feel up to that

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beholdthemem · 1 year

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The universe saw fit to gift my grandmother with a lovely case of covid for Christmas because of course it fucking did, so the past few days have been, uh...

Busy.

#personal #she's not in the hospital- she did end up going to urgent care on the 25th but they sent her home.#she did not TELL US she was going to urgent care we found out via whatsapp from my aunt #who'd been trying to coordinate a family zoom call and was informed by my granddad 'later. we're #at the hospital now'.#why did they not call and ask us to drive given that we live TEN MINUTES AWAY and granddad shouldn't be driving at the best of times?#that i could not tell you. something about 'not wanting to inconvenience-' which is insane #dad and i have been going up to try and get everything we can done for them since then #nana's been granddad's caretaker since he got diagnosed but anyone who's had covid can tell you it takes fucking EVERYTHING out of you #to just fucking walk around. im off work till the 9th thank god so i can be there as often as required but even so...#I have a sense that i should probably be freaking the fuck out but mostly im just... calm? it's not a happy calm idk what emotion this is #but it definitely isn't positive- but im not panicking. i feel like new bad info does not surprise me anymore it's just kind of a grit-your-#teeth-and-adjust-to-handle-shit deal. like. 'mm. god shits in our collective dinner once again. figures.'#there's no point in flying off the handle just figuring out how to fix things. im not happy but im... steady i guess?#im resigned and bitter and optimistic until im given proof not to be but mostly what i am is tired. not physically just-#my brain feels like a wrung out dishcloth. i keep trying to write because i know it'll make me happy if i can but its not working.#i keep writing paragraphs of shit that aren't matching up with what i want and if somebody gives me some meaningless platitude about #how maybe it's a sign it should be there and to try and incorporate it ill rip their face off. shut. up.

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lannisterdaddyissues · 10 months

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AHHHHHHHHH i had such a nice experience at quarantine again today!! the cats were happy to see us and we showered them with love :’) and i was able to corner one of the feral kittens and he let me pet him for a couple minutes which is progress!!

#the real icing on the cake though was seeing christine (the mom & kittens' caretaker) again #we found out today that she actually knows our dad because he treated her a while ago #and she said he was the nicest doctor she'd ever met and if she saw him again she'd tell him all about us and how grateful she is :^)#she also misplaced her keys about 40 minutes before we had to leave and spent the rest of the time lowkey panicking over it #and right as my brother and i left i moved something on the windowsill and her keys fell out LOL #i think i've become her new personal hero #but like!!! she's so nice and she truly cares about cats!!! and she Gets Us!!!#she kept saying that she really trusts us and asked us a lot of questions about how to care for cats and what cats are likely to be adopted #and at the end of our shift when we were about to leave she came up to our car to thank us again and discuss our next shift #it's just so nice to be appreciated and actually feel like i'm doing a Good Thing that will have a positive lifelong impact for these cats #and thus concludes my Cat Update.

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whumpshots · 7 months

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Whumptober #4

Trope of the day: “You in there?”

When caretaker opens their eyes, darkness surrounds them. They blink, hoping it's just the probable concussion, but it seems like they are fucked.

Biting back the grunt wanting to escape, caretaker moves their hurting body and tries to stand up, only to almost collapse back down again. Silent curses roll off their tongue as they finally find someting to support them as they stand up, no orientation whatsoever.

They remember the panicked voices through their intercomms, whumpee grabbing them to pull them away ... and then everything turned black.

Caretaker's heart skips a beat. Whumpee ... Where the fuck are they?

As caretaker triest to make their way forwards, they hear a soft grunt, almost too quiet to register. Their ears still ring, but caretaker is sure they heard it. Limping forward, caretaker collapses before a pile of rubble, their hands trying to identify what is in front of them.

“You in there?”, they rasp, feeling the panic rise in their chest. Another grunt from below and caretaker's hands start moving automatically.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #whumptober #trope of the day #“You in there?”#no.4 #caretaker #whumpee #trapped #collapsed building #panicked caretaker #whumpshots

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kim-poce · 2 years

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Bloodbag Neo and Celeste

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27

(CW: pet whump, panicking, broken bones, fear of punishment)

Well shit.

To put it simply? Tobias was fucked.

This was exactly the kind of reaction he didn't want to cause! And what the fuck was he supposed to do now?! Comfort the kid? Yeah, because he'd want comfort from the asshole who upset him in the first place. Not to mention that he was scared of Tobias to begin with, and anything Tobias did would probably be seen as a threat.

Aaaand that was the door unlocking. Tobias rushed over to it, trying to keep his arms as still as possible. He needed a chance to talk to Alex before he came in and saw this disaster and drew his own conclusions.

"I fucked up," he said, voice thin with terror.

Alex stared at him, eyes hard. "What." His voice was flat and emotionless.

"The kid asked me about pets and why some people are and... fuck," Tobias said, trying to pull his racing thoughts into cohesive speech. "He asked me earlier why he's a pet and I'm not, and I didn't answer. Anything I said would just upset him. But when you left he asked why the girl's a pet, and I tried to be tactful but that's not exactly my strong suit and now he's crying and I don't know what to do."

He really, really hoped Alex didn't kill him for this.

Crossovers - Masterlist

=-=

Alex wanted to kill Tobias, but he didn't have the time for it, and to be honest the one at fault was himself. He shouldn’t have left the boy alone with this man, he shouldn't have left the two of them to interact at all, when the boy entered the kitchen Alex should have sent him away.

He pushed the man in front of him with more strength than necessary, it was more so he wouldn't be on the way, Alex didn't look at him as he hushed towards the boy.

"Hey," he called, making the boy back away weakly, hiding his crying face, “Hey, it’s okay, ” The boy only backed away further before curling up into a small scared ball, “Neo? I won’t hurt you, it’s me, okay? I would never hurt you. Can you look at me?”

Neo didn’t move, which Alex tried to see as progress. At least he isn’t backing away again. “I’ll get closer, okay, Neo? It’s okay now.”

Alex moved closer slowly, Neo flinched under his touch but didn’t move back, “Sorry I wasn’t here, dear,” Alex said as he slowly pulled the boy closer, giving him all the time and space to escape if he wanted to, “I won’t let him upset you again, okay?”

“D-don’t,” Neo said between sobs in a low voice, “D-d-don’t hurt him,” he completed before burying his face on Alex’s shoulder to cry.

=-=

@neverthelass, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @rose-pinkie

#pet whump #panicking #broken bones #fear of punishment #whump #vampire caretaker #nonhuman caretaker #non human caretaker #bloodbag whumpee #blood bag whumpee #blood bag whump #asks #wolfeyedwitch #Bloodbag!Neo AU #Bloodbag!Neo and Celeste

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jordanstrophe · 2 months

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CW: Kidnapped, restrained, gasoline, threat of immolating, ransom

The scent of gasoline was overwhelming.

"You don't- You don't have to do th-this," Whumpee choked. They were forced to their knees, hands bound to a latch on the floor. Their heart pounded, not able to see what whumper was doing behind them.

"Now now, let's not be that way." Whumper poured liquid over whumpee's head as they practically shouted as the cold ran down their spine. They had to hold their breath as the smell of gas and oil was suffocating.

"I know you don't deserve this." Whumper said, pouring out the last drop. "But if your caretaker brings me what I've asked for, you'll be just fine. You'll go free, and after a shower and change of clothes, this will alllll be over." They carelessly tossed the can to the side as whumpee flinched at the noise.

"All of th- this.... F-fo-for wh- a -at" Whumpee choked out their own words.

"Hey hey hey, don't pass out on me. Shhhh, deep breaths. I want you awake when caretaker comes. It helps with the persuasion, especially if you're crying and all." They pinched at a strand of whumpee's hair and felt gasoline seep between their fingers.

They sat next to them and cupped their jaw, making them face the door. Whumpee's heart nearly stopped beating when they heard a gentle *flick* of a lighter being ignited overhead.

"They'll be here any second now." Whumper whispered in their ear.

"Let's hope for your sake that's the case, anyway."

#whump #whumpee #whumper #caretaker #whump drabble #ransom whump #kidnap whump #kidnapped whumpee #whump angst #gasoline whump #whump scenario #whump writing #fire whump #captive whumpee #whumplr #whump tropes #bound whump #restained whumpee #panicked whumpee

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moons-cozy-corner · 1 year

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A Gentle Touch

Inspired by this post by @strawberry1507

TW: past abuse, body mutilation (slightly mentioned), crying/panic attack, overstimulation, imprisonment

The generators had gone out weeks ago, plunging Whumpee into darkness. The only light now came from a small caged window near the ceiling. Not that it mattered-Whumpee could see just fine in the dark. Thanks to them.

It was starting to get cold now. Whumpee had sat on the floor for days hoping the freezing temperatures would take him. It never did. Three rusty nails later and all Whumpee had was a stomach full of dread and a big red stain on the bed.

It was a waste, really. Trying to die. He knew it was pointless after what the doctors had done to him. Scales and deformed clumps of flesh clung to his arms and legs. Patches of his skin turned a meshy gray color. Sharp fangs replaced his canines. Even his eyes had changed to give him night vision, making his eyes even more sensitive to light. It all ached. It all hurt.

A failed experiment left in his cell to rot, if only he could. Whumpee had spent days crying after he was sent here to be mangled and bent to the scientists will. Needles and lights and masks and goggles and cuffs and leather straps. Now his body wasn't even his own.

It had been almost two months, maybe even more since the last doctor had come to check in on them. They had been terrified of Whumpe, shuddering back during the reflex test every time a limb flew out. Wincing at Whumpee's pathetic attempt at a smile. That was probably why he was still there, alone and forgotten.

The room was small and stale. It wasn't fancy, nor was it very secure. The door had started to rust as had many other things in the room. He'd considered trying to leave, but it scared him. Whumpee couldn't predict what would be out there and, despite having wanted freedom for so long, this room was all that felt safe.

So on the bed he sat, night and day, hunger and despair growing almost as one. There was nothing to do but sleep, so that's what he did.

It was just getting dark when he woke up again, scratching his oily overgrown hair. There was a strange creaking noise echoing through the hall. The pipes were finally failing too, it seemed.

The noise got louder, though. A continuous thrumming that got closer and closer. Lights started to shine in the crack under the metal door. It was more than just some leaky pipes. Whumpee rose from the bed, backing up slowly as the noise approached their door. The lights, the steps, the shouting. Nobody was supposed to be there. Not anymore.

Whumpee's back hit the cement wall, it's sharp edges grabbing at his cheap hospital attire. The door started rattling. Whumpee didn't know what to think. It couldn't be the doctors, could it? They'd left him to die. He was suffering, sure, but - they just couldn't come back!

The door flew open, lines of light zooming across the room, making Whumpee's head spin. He slid to the ground, covering his face with his hands, tearless sobs breaking through his chest. "Over here," someone yelled. A man's voice?

The lights were all pointed at him. The intruders were shouting at each other now, all the words unfamiliar and distant. It had been so long since he had heard a voice other than his own. His chest squeezed and tensed, and he swore it was about to cave in on itself any moment now.

One of them stepped forward, crouching in front of Whumpee. He pushed himself back further, willing himself to merge with the concrete. The shouts were reduced to incoherent background noise now. He could feel all the eyes on him. All staring down at him. His attention was dragged back to the uniformed man before him when a shaking hand was offered.

Whumpee looked at the gloved hand then at the man, up and down as he scanned the other. "Hello, there," the man said, a soft smile adorning his lips. "We're not gonna hurt you." A pathetic whimper left Whumpee's throat as he tried to find a way around the intruders, but he was cornered. His chest was too tight, his limbs too wobbly. All he could do was press himself harder against the wall and curl into himself.

The man dropped his hand. "That's alright. You must be terrified." He sat down cross-legged in front of Whumpee a couple feet away, giving him some space. "My name is Caretaker. Would you mind telling me yours?"

The room had gone completely silent and mostly dim again, the only light coming from the flashlight the man was still holding. At least he had the decency to point it away from Whumpee. The others had gone, leaving the door a gaping hole. That thick hunk of metal that Whumpee had tried to pass so desperately those first few months... gone.

"Whumpee," he squeaked, refusing to look at the other. The man was looking at Whumpee so expectantly, yet so softly. He didn't reach out, didn't lessen the distance between them. It felt like some sort of trap.

Caretaker smiled. "Hello, Whumpee. I'm here with my team. We won't hurt you." Whumpee looked up from his knees. The man looked so strong. Tall and muscular in the thin armor, taking up much more space than nothing-but-bones Whumpee was. But he was also wavering, his eyes moving a bit too fast over Whumpee's features, watching his every move.

Silent tears fell down his face. "You.. you're scared of me, aren't you?" Whumpee looked to the side, burying his face into his upper arm. He clenched his eyes as the man reached out again, but there was no contact. Just a sigh.

"This place was supposed to be abandoned. We weren't expecting to find anything- anyone here. And you..." Caretaker gestured in the air, making Whumpee flinch. "You look-"

"Like a monster. I get it." His voice was barely above a whisper, the last remnants of his humanity leaving with his scratchy voice. He really hadn't spoken in months. Not since the doctors had lost use for him.

A second voice surfaced through the silence. Lighter, a voice one would expect to be bouncy and soft. Her's was wounded and mournful. "Boss, we've found it. We've got our proof."

Whumpee looked up with red eyes. "Proof?"

Caretaker nodded at the woman, then turned back to Whumpee. "Yes, proof. The documents and files containing every detail of what they did in this place." Whumpee sat up a bit at that, arms still defending his midsection while he leaned ever so slightly forward. "And you're the only survivor. All the others... well... they were either taken or… or killed. Heavens know why they left you here."

The doctors had left him alive. Everyone else, all the other patients, dead. Dead or still being tortured, mangled into monsters.

"We’ll take you back with us.” Caretaker looked around then back down at Whumpee. "We’re going to have to do some tests. See what exactly they did… to you…” Whumpee clamped hands over his ears, shaking his head frantically as he cried. “What… what’s wrong, Whumpee? What’s wrong?”

He kept shaking his head. “Mmm no! No no no! No more tests, please!”

“Oh- Oh! Okay! Calm down, shhh.” Caretakers voice softened as he spoke. “No labs then. No tests. Can you take a deep breath for me?” Whumpee did, and after a few shuddering seconds their breathing was back under control. His crying, however, was not. “Good, good. Better. We can’t leave you here, though… How would staying at my cabin sound? It’s away from the city, all nice and quiet. You’d be safe, warm, fed. Clean. What do you think?”

It sounded... really, really nice, actually. It sounded like heaven compared to this place. More tears started to fall, but this time they weren’t filled with terror or despair. He nodded before burying his face in his arms, sobbing. Caretaker's hand found Whumpee's back and he started rubbing. "Can I carry you or do you want to walk?" Slowly Whumpee turned towards the other, leaning against his chest. His warm, secure chest. Caretaker hummed before wrapping his arms around Whumpee’s small frame and picking him up. “Let’s go, then.”

Tag-list: @pleasegodno31375 @subval01 @bleeding-letters @whumpkinz @aswallowimprisoned @nicolepascaline

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sukunas-wife · 1 day

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What about Y/N and reader having a little baby girl. Sukuna was disappointed at first because he wanted another boy. But she becomes so attached to her papa since she was a baby. Like she sees cuts on his hands (she doesn’t realize he can use RCT yet) and tries to treat his wounds 🥺🫶🏽

~🪽

I though tumblr ate your ask when I scrolled 5 times and could find it and I panicked so hard 😭 So cute 🥺 Im pretty sure we’re going with Anya, but I suck at catching her personality so I’m just going to go with general daughter reactions for this 🥹🤍🤍

(Note: I tried, but I feel like I’m always lacking in the daughter area. Maybe I need to borrow my niece ;-; also, its a little short…) finally back into it tho 😎

Your room fell silent, the cries filling the air were almost piercing. You felt like you knew this was bound to happen. Yuji was a miracle, but your second child was born a girl. You knew Sukuna had only ever cared about having heirs, so in the silence you were on edge of what he would say or do.

It was strange watching him in that moment, she was crying in his arms, he was staring at her with that black expression that always appeared like a frown. He shouldn’t have been so openly disappointed, he knew from the start when your stomach started to swell and he hadn’t noticed until he touched your round belly. The child in your stomach had not an ounce of cursed energy to leave a presence, much less for him to be able to tell what it could be. Yet he held out hope for a boy, even if the lack of his presence was due to a heavenly restriction, he could work with that. But no, the little pink haired girl crying and screaming in his arms was enough to leave him perplexed. He shook his head, handing her over to you, you watched him while you began to breastfeed your daughter.

“Sukuna..” your voice was a whisper followed by a cringe of feeling like your insides were coming out. You wanted to comfort your husband but you didn’t feel right. “Sukuna,” your lower stomach kicked in painful cramps, and everything moved in a rush. Sukuna was pushed out of the room and heard the panic of your caretakers clearly.

—- —- —- —- —-

The day had passed and he sat outside your room, they had persisted he did not pass. So he sat out there waiting until the early hours of sunrise when they brought out his daughter. He took her in his hands, you couldn’t see it past her pink hair and eyes, but to Sukuna she had your face. She was small and round but to him, she looked so similar he was in disbelief you had won over that part of his genes.

He sat there all day, holding her to his chest, while his head leaned back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he could tell you were alive, but it felt like you were just barely there. He looked down in his arms, the little bundle of clothes moving around slightly as your daughter moved, crying out. He wanted to hand it off to a servant as his hand came up to uncover her face more to look at her, that was until her hand slipped out taking a tight hold of finger. She stopped crying for a moment just sniffling, her little nails falling digging into his skin. “Come, stop your crying.” His free arm came to lightly run over his little wrinkly cheeks, “my child.” He was looking at her with such a soft look, the servants found it endearing. It was then he decided he would take care of her as he did Yuji, his child, his pride.

—- —- —- —- —-

Years passed, and you were outside with Yuji. Watching Anya’s big eyes growing in size as an emperor butterfly slowly fluttered around the garden. It had been a month since Sukuna had left on one of his little excursions, you were curious why his supposed two week trip became a month long trip. But you had your 13 year old Yuji who was laying in your lap passed out from his own Ventures of the day and your 3 year old girl keeping you busy, you didn’t feel as lonely as when it was just yourself. “Mama!” Your hand kept running though Yuji’s hair, “Yes sweetheart?” Your little girl came running up to you, “Papa!” You could see the stars in her eyes as she pointed behind her, past the garden. You looked seeing the all too familiar and burly silhouette in the distance. You faked a gasp, “It is papa! He’s almost home. Do you wanna go get him the sweets you made?” She perked up more, “Yeah!” You watched as she ran off inside the house singing a song as her steps padded on the ground. Yuji slowly sat up, eyes squinty as he looked around “Dad?” You laughed while rubbing his head, “Yes.”

You started to get up, Yuji rushing up and offering to help you as you struggled to get up, “my leg is tired from being in one place too long.” You laughed and Yuji grinned, “Sorry’ was tired.”

You simply rubbed his head, “It’s fine, go get your sister, she’s been away for a while already.”

Yuji ran off to find his sister while you tried to ignore the feeling in your legs. You moved closer to the edge of the garden Sukuna was approaching in fresh blood, the closer he became the more you noticed the minor scrapes and cuts on his body. You rolled your eyes with a smile, he shrugged off the top of his robes once he had realised your eyes were trained on his body. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find him attractive in this form of glory, but for the sake of your kids you wouldn’t touch his chest and give him that look. It was when he stood in front of you that your dominant hand pulled your handkerchief from your obi, your free hand cradling his face before cleaning his face of the foreign contaminant.

“I see my husband is home, sturdy, well and revelling in his victories.” You hummed as you finished cleaning his face, pulling him towards you gently so you could kiss him. As you pulled away from what was going to be a soft kiss he pulled you back in to catch your lips longer, “Mhm.” Was all

He hummed against your lips, aside from the hand on your head, two of his free hands came to your waist to pull you closer. Placing your hands on his chest you pushed yourself back a little to stare up at him, “Your little girl has been asking and crying for you to come back. She even made you a little treat everyday for when you arrived.” He hummed, eyeing you, your hands moving to rest on his biceps, “They should be here. I sent her in to retrieve what she worked so hard on.” Your head turned exposing your neck to him, his last free hand coming up to run his nails over the tender flesh, “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, as for now I’m craving the feeling of something else.” His hand angled your head away, teeth and lips running over the plush pulse point on your neck, until he huffed at your resistance, “how impervious.” He pulled away, hands sliding from your waist as he looked away visibly upset. You couldn’t fight the smile, “We should go, it might be a waste waiting longer out here then if we go find them.”

—- —- —- —- —-

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Yuji was sitting by his dad with a big smile listening to the story of how he single-handedly levelled another city. Anya was sitting on his lap bouncing along as his body shook when he’d let out a louder laugh or was jostled around with his movements. That was until she noticed the smallest cut on his stomach and let out a loud gasp making all of you turn to look at her.

”Papa! You’re hurt!” Sukuna looked down, seeing the small surface wound that left a red line of broken skin over his side stomach. “Oh, I suppose I a-PAPA NEEDS BANDAGES” she was rushing off feet pattering over the floor as Yuji mumbled, “But.. can’t dad use reverse cursed technique…” he looked confused as he closed his eyes tilting his head to the side. You looked at your husband who sighed with a faint twitch at his lips and placed a hand on Yuji’s head messing up his already tousled hair. “Interesting, I remember another brat with pink hair who did the exact same thing.” Yuji smiled under the weight of his fathers hand.

Anya came running in with a bowl of water spilling everywhere and other things tucked under her little arm. You watched as Ryomen steadied her after she spilt water onto his lap trying to clean his wounds as she had watched you done when your husband would crave your attention and purposely not heal his own wounds leaving you to tend to him. He cringed as more water spilt onto his lap as she un purposely smacked his stomach with a soaking rag rubbing at the small flesh wound, Yuji tried not to laugh as you laughed quietly behind your hand watching as Sukuna tried to help only for Anya to yell at him “No! I can do it papa! You’re hurt!”

The screen was cute as he cringed more at the cold water, relieved when she stopped only to become stressed when she pulled out the roll of wraps. She had seen you use those wraps on Yuji many times when he would become injured or hurt. What she didn’t see was how her father was much larger in size, those tiny wraps wouldn't circle his waist even once.

When they couldn't, Anya became frantic, rushing to jump off her father and run to get more bandages. This was until Ryomen caught her mid jump, “Lemme go daddy! Need more wraps!” He sat her back on his lap, “No you don’t brat, I'll show you something better.”

Anya looked up at her dad with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip, “Press your hands here.” You watched as he guided her small hands to his stomach over the wrap, “Put all your force behind it.” She forced her eyes closed, pressing both her hands against his stomach with all her little muscle. Using the slightest bit of his reversed cursed technique he pulled her hands away, “See.” Her eyes opened slowly and the red mark on his stomach was gone. Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him, “I DID IT!” Ryomen couldn’t fight back the twitch of his lips that pulled into a smile, “You did.” Her hands clasped together with starry eyes, her stare locked on Yuji, “I can fix you.”

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