Every day, Whumpee is brought to a room with a bolted chair, a tray of tools, and a mirror.
They're tortured to a brutal degree. Whumpee screams, sobbing through the pain, “Why!? Why are you doing th-this? Just tell me what you w-want!”
Their captors never speak; whumpee's never even heard their voices. Sometimes, they grab their face and force them to look into the mirror bleeding, shaking, barely conscious.
Then the moment ends, and it starts all over again.
On the other side of the glass sits Caretaker, watching while unharmed and being questioned.
Every time they don’t have an answer, whumpee takes the hit.
Hospital whump? Specifically, a patient(whumpee) stuck in the psych ward with a horrible staff member(whumper)?
Maybe some caretaker thing mixed in by a different patient who knows that staff member is a mfer cause they used to get whumper's previous 'toy' until whimper arrived and then whumper got bored of caretaker?
So caretaker knows how horrible it is to catch whumpeer's eye and they comfort whumpee?
OMG I HAVE NEVER THOUGHT OF HOSPITAL WHUMP BEFORE!!!! Especially psych ward whump which is — for most people who experienced it — the whumpiest place they’ve ever been!! And just regular hospital too but absolutely anon!!! I’ll give it a go!!!!
TW: derealisation mentioned, depersonalisation, Psych unit, psych ward patient, SUICIDAL IDEATION (IMPLIED), SUICIDE, SUICIDE MENTION, inaccurate medical procedure, bad doctors, bad nurses, HEAVY SUBJECT MATTER TREATED LIGHTLY (by patients experiencing it), doctor malpractice, doctor and nurse apathy to patients, trauma bonding, mental illness, MENTAL ILLNESS FROM POV OF MENTALLY ILL PERSON (<- they’re sick, idk how else to put it), mentally ill characters, patient mistreatment, fictional and excessive treatments to correct poor behaviour/mental illness
this fic is NOT MEDICALLY ACCURATE or an accurate representation of psych wards and psych ward patients, so please don’t take it too seriously.
Psych wards are actually a place you go to get better, but I will be perpetuating the stereotype of them being evil places for the purposes of this story 3:) If you don’t like it, don’t read
Last chance ;)
*~*~*~*~*
Whumpee was brought in with a police escort this time, handcuffs locked around her wrists in front of her. She didn’t struggle or fight. She just let the officers escort her to the green room where they took patients that was high risk.
Whumpee wasn’t even that high risk, but she assumed she’d be on a one-to-one regime now that she tried — and failed — to escape this fucking nightmare. Fuck… she wasn’t going to get an opportunity like this again in a while. She felt eyes on her from the other patients; pitying stares, some angry glares because everyone was forced into their rooms when a police-escorted patient was brought in.
A reminder that she couldn’t resist, or she’d just end up right back in this hell hole, but worse off. Less freedoms than before, humiliation piled higher on top of her.
Whumpee had never been to the green room before and… she froze at the door, her back slamming against an officer’s chest at seeing restraints attached to the metal railings on the bed.
They… can’t be serious right? It’s the 21st century… surely, they can’t— they don’t physically restrain patients anymore?
But, no, Whumpee would be fine. She didn’t resist the officers; she remained calm, she didn’t scream or protest as they dragged her back through the clinical halls. There was no doctor or nurse present when Whumpee walked into the green room though, and that sent her heart pounding against her chest.
The green room was simple, a bed in the centre of the room that had no edges of curves for patients to slam their face or bodies against and cause harm. The railings with the restraints were under the mattress, sunk within the wooden crevices so Whumpee wouldn’t be able to reach them when she was on said bed.
“It’s procedure to strap you to the bed, Whumpee,” one of the officers said. Whumpee whirled, eyes wide.
“But… But I didn’t fight or—”
Nolon, the officer Whumpee recognised from being on this fucking ward for too long, rubbed the nape of his neck, an awkward grimace on his face.
“You’re being sectioned under Article 6 of the 2017–”
Nolon stepped past the other guard, nodding and patting the new guard’s shoulder. “Yeah, she knows. She understands. It’s just her first time,” Nolon swung his kind blue eyes back to Whumpee. “Admission to the green room has safety procedures we have to follow before a medical professional can enter the room, Whumpee.”
Whumpee swallowed hard, glancing back at the bed before facing Nolon again, a watery smile on her lips as she shrugged. “Guess I should’ve caused a fuss when you found me, huh?”
Whumpee looked between Nolon and his partner. Both had a solid fifty pounds of muscle on Whumpee, dressed in their police uniform while Whumpee was sporting a hoodie, tracksuit and two soggy socks. She should’ve run when it wasn’t raining… fuck. Nolon’s partner wasn’t as tall as Nolon, but broader and even if Whumpee somehow got past Nolon — which was unlikely — she wouldn’t be able to slip through the tiny crack only a cat would fit through in the door.
Nolon smiled sadly. “Guess so.”
Whumpee swallowed. “Right.” She held her wrists out and Nolon uncuffed her. Whumpee stepped back immediately, her arse hitting off the bed, causing a red flush to swarm her cheeks. “Do you— Do I-?”
“Would you mind getting on the bed, Whumpee?” Nolon asked, taking charge of Whumpee’s admission. Whumpee side stepped the bed and retreated towards the back wall.
“I just… I think- I would rather not be restrained if that’s okay. I’m not… I’m not a threat, I’m not violent,” she said, her words coming out strained and shaky. “I’m- I’m just… I have severe depression and anxiety and some uh, personality disorder but I’m not like—”
Whumpee released a gasp when her back hit the wall. Nolon’s partner pushed away from the door and followed Nolon up to the bed, neither approached Whumpee yet.
“I don’t— look, I- I barely eat, I don’t sleep. I’m weak as shit, you… you both know that I’m not dangerous. Please don’t restrain me. I’ll just- I’ll wait here, and I won’t touch the doctors or nurses, I swear.”
Nolon sighed. Whumpee trembled in the corner like some bold child after being caught sneaking a midnight snack. “Please, don’t tie me up.”
“Whumpee,” Nolon said, an edge of authority to his voice that sent a bolt of fear striking through Whumpee’s nervous system. Fuck.
Fuck! This was supposed to be a place where she got better, where she didn’t have to stress or worry about anything. And yet here she was, scared out of her mind as she stared down two police men who were trying to tie her up.
Nolon’s partner twitched towards Whumpee and Whumpee flinched. “We have to do this, Whumpee,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “We don’t want to hurt you or force you, but we have to—”
Whumpee waited until Nolon’s partner was two feet away from her before bolting along the wall and towards the open door.
She heard Nolon curse behind her as Whumpee made it to the door only to run into a hard chest. Whumpee bounced back two steps from the chest, momentarily stunned before a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and Whumpee started struggling and screaming as she was yanked off her feet with ease.
She kicked at the air pathetically, slamming her fists down on the arms holding her but they refused to budge and then Whumpee felt the mattress beneath her. The person holding her waist sat behind her on the bed, holding her down while she struggled furiously, slamming elbows back, throwing her head back, kicking out.
“No! NO! NO! Let me go! DON’T! Don’t tie me down, please! PLEASE! No! NO!” Nolon’s partner grabbed Whumpee’s left ankle and one of the leather restraints from the side of the bed. “No! GET OFF ME! GET OFF ME, PLEASE! PLEASE! I HAVE—”
“It’s okay, Whumpee,” Nolon shushed softly behind her. “It’s only for twenty-four hours and then you can go back to your room. It’s just standard procedure.”
“Nolon, please! Please!” Nolon’s partner got the cuff around Whumpee’s ankle and buckled it loosely, so Whumpee still had a small range of movement.
“See? It’s not that bad. You’ll have a lot of movement, you’ll be fine. It’s just for your admission. A cooling off period. You’ll probably sleep most of the time anyways, you’re okay.”
Whumpee stopped struggling against Nolon as his partner buckled her right ankle into the other cuff. She could… she could still move. Nolon was right. She wasn’t… she wasn’t tied down like a vicious animal… she could do- she could do twen– twenty-four hours. The though stole the oxygen from her lungs, deflating them like someone had put a pin in a balloon and let it free in her chest cavity.
Nolon didn’t release Whumpee until his partner locked each of Whumpee’s limbs down to the restraints. There was no way she would be able to move from the bed or kick out and attack anyone, but she could reach her hand up to her face, if she bent at the waist, and wipe the tears from her eyes and the snot from her nose at least.
“There,” Nolon said, appearing beside Whumpee and helping her settle down into a lying position. The bed was tilted up at 45 degrees around the shoulders and up the head, so Whumpee was half sitting up as she settled. “You, okay?”
Whumpee nodded. Nolon smiled. “Okay. I’ll see you soon. You’ll be fine.”
“Officer Nolon,” a voice filled with cold authority interrupted, drawing all attention to him. A doctor stood in the doorway, and Whumpee recognised that chest having run into it during her second failed escape attempt that night. The man was built like a Marvel Superhero actor. He even had boobs… no… not boobs, the muscle-chest… boobs that men had, but Whumpee knew boobs wasn’t the word. And for the second time that day she cursed the fucking meds she was on. It turned her brain to mush. She was lucky she could still remember to brush her teeth.
Fuck she wouldn’t get to brush her teeth tonight. Consequences of her misadventures; cavities.
There was something cold about the doctor though, and Whumpee realised with a sinking dread that she didn’t recognise this particular doctor. Whumpee and Friend usually sat on the couches and shit talked every doctor here but maybe this one only took green room patients, or dangerous ones?
Whumpee didn’t know, but she knew she didn’t like him at first glance. He had a superiority that most of the shit doctors here — the ones who didn’t listen to, or understand, their patients’ needs — had. Whumpee’s doctor was actually the best in the place. A kind man from Pakistan, Dr. Arslan who had warm honey eyes and greying brown hair.
Whumpee frowned at boob doctor.
Nope.
Oh god.
She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. She cannot— she cannot go from crying, screaming and fighting one minute to laughing uncontrollably the next. These… Whumpee bit her lip harder until she drew blood and sobered up.
God, the fucking meds was messing with her emotions, and her emotions were so hard to control as they slowly started returning to Whumpee’s body. After not being able to feel them for so long, of thinking she’d never be able to feel them again – if she ever felt them at all – that maybe she was a sociopath or a psychopath or something, but nope. When Whumpee met Dr Arslan, he told Whumpee that she felt her emotions too much to the point that her brain panicked at the overwhelming flood of them. So, it ordered her body to repress all emotions and shut them down, and that was the reason she felt empty and like she was constantly in a dream; unreal.
But now?! Now her emotions were flooding back into her body with a vengeance, swirling in Whumpee’s… everywhere and making themselves known, making sure Whumpee felt just how fucking powerfully awful they were. That they were there the whole time in the background, scratching to get out, to be felt, to be known under Whumpee’s emotion-numbing brain fog. Whumpee couldn’t control the tsunami of them, and it was becoming a real big fucking problem because her emotions didn’t always line up with the situation.
Just yesterday when an elderly patient, Ray, told Whumpee that he had bowel cancer, Whumpee started that horrible uncontrollable laughter to everyone’s horror. The one that made her double over and hold her stomach as she laughed without any reason, feeling sick to her stomach at herself. This was a person’s grandad, a husband, a father and Whumpee was laughing at his cancer? And when other Psych ward patients are judging you for your craziness, there’s something wrong. Then Ray started laughing along with Whumpee, while Whumpee cried from laughter and choked out apologies through tears.
Ray laughed like he couldn’t believe it, a riotous bellow that made nurses flood over to her little hallway to see what the commotion was. And what a scene it must have been, Ray and Whumpee both hunched over in her seats, shoulders shaking and bodies spasming sporadically as Whumpee cried: “I’m so sorry, it’s not funny,” with breathless, wheezy gasps, while the others in their group stared on horrified.
The bubbling laughter was becoming a problem as Whumpee stared at boob doctor who hadn’t taken his cold, green eyes from Whumpee as she lay in the bed. Whumpee only felt coldness flood her veins as she pulled at the restraints. Dimly she realised she didn’t want to be left alone with this doctor.
Whumpee snapped her head to Nolon, eyes pleading, silently begging for him to stay, knowing he couldn’t. Nolon shot a glance back at Whumpee before nodding at the doctor. Whumpee yanked against her restraints in protest, but no words would fall from her lips as she watched Nolon, and his partner leave the room.
Leaving Whumpee with the doctor who closed the door behind them with a deafening click. The strange doctor turned and smiled at Whumpee which only served to set her more on edge. Whumpee pushed herself upright on the bed, her heart rushing in her chest like a jackhammer. It felt like she needed an advantage or a weapon to even speak to this man.
He was everything a doctor shouldn’t be intimidating, cold, violent… even though he hadn’t yet touched or spoken to Whumpee directly, there was something about him that made Whumpee want to flee. Of course, in her current predicament she couldn’t move or even seem to speak.
“The restraints are for your own protection,” Whumper said, his voice low and commanding, filling the room even though he didn’t have to raise his voice. Whumpee swallowed, feeling like his words were trying to steal all oxygen from the room and strangle her into submission. As if she could do anything but submit on this fucking bed, in this fucking hospital, with these fucking cuffs.
“They don’t feel like they’re for my protection,” Whumpee replied, keeping her eyes on the Doctor like a prey animal around a predator, and this Doctor was a predator. He was too still. Too sure in his body. His stare hadn’t left Whumpee’s face — her eyes — and yet noticed every minute struggle of Whumpee in her restraints. Every subtle shift in her movements.
Whumper tilted his head a fraction to the right. “Of course they are,” he said in that same easy, confident tone, starting towards the bed. Whumpee repressed the flinch as he came closer and closer, her heartbeat rising with every inch he closed between them. “They are padded so that when you struggle from your hysterics you don’t hurt yourself,” he continued as he stopped beside Whumpee’s cuffed wrist. He traced his finger over the leather and Whumpee yanked at it, trying to pull away.
Those horrible too-seeing eyes raised to Whumpee’s slowly, and he smiled a smile that seemed to suck all the life from Whumpee’s body, replacing her blood with cold fear.
“And for the staff’s protection as well should you be aggressive during your admission. Or in your case re-admission.” Whumper drew back, walking to the green leather armchair in the corner of the room and settling down into it, drawing a clipboard onto his lap. Whumpee let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, hating her body for betraying the fear she didn’t want to show this man.
“I co-operated with the police.”
Whumper smiled, drawing all warmth from her body. “Yes. You looked very co-operative running out the door trying to escape again. And failing. Again.”
Whumpee’s lips drew back into a snarl. “I’m well aware of everything that happened tonight.”
“Good, we can cut that section of the procedure out then.”
“I co-operated. I’m not aggressive or violent. Please,” Whumpee begged, drawing her arms around her waist, forgetting the cuffs until they stopped her before her hands could touch. “I’ll just go back to my room. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Whumper sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Whumpee.”
“Why not?” She snapped.
“Because you are very emotional right now. And after the dramatics of tonight I think it’s obvious that you can’t be trusted to be left alone.”
“But I—”
“And procedure is you are put on 24–72-hour watch after an escape attempt, which means you’ll be one-to-one with a member of the medical team—”
“That’s not fair!” Whumpee cried, yanking at the cuffs.
“—until we can determine whether or not you are stable enough to be left alone on the ward again.”
Whumpee stared at Whumper. “I… I won’t run again. I won’t.”
Whumper levelled Whumpee with an impassive stare, as if he was calculating the honesty in Whumpee’s voice, the earnest weight of her limbs from exhaustion at tonight’s dramatics as Whumper called it…
Whumper stretched his legs out and crossed her ankle over ankle. He tilted his head to the side as he watched Whumpee. “My name is Doctor Whumper. I am in charge of more volatile and spirited patients, like yourself, and help them become less… troublesome on the ward. Less rambunctious.”
Whumpee slammed her lips together to keep herself from talking back to Doctor Whumper. Stupid name.
Whumper stared like he was waiting for Whumpee to say something. Whumpee blinked as the silence stretched on and on. “Am I supposed to clap? Cause my hands are kinda tied at the moment.”
Whumper didn’t laugh. He didn’t blink. He just stared. Tough crowd. “Do I not get your name in return?”
“I assume it’s on the file you’re reading on your lap,” Whumpee replied dryly. Whumper’s lips quipped for a brief moment, but it was gone too soon for Whumpee to recognise.
“It is. But I just introduced myself to you.”
“So? You’re not my mother. I don’t owe you shit.”
“Not even your name?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you know it,” Whumpee ground out through clenched teeth, balling her hands into fists. Whumper didn’t miss that either.
Whumper tilted his head. “Are you always this difficult? I’m surprised you weren’t admitted to the green room before.”
“No! I’m not. I am a quiet patient. I don’t make any trouble for the nurses because I know how hard her jobs are,” Whumpee bristled. “I’m just a little stressed from tonight, and you’re really pissing me off. So yeah. I’m gonna be a little difficult with you. And I’m not apologising for it either.”
Whumper stared in silence. Then pursed his lips with a soft, “hmm” and began writing something on his clipboard. Whumpee frowned. She shouldn’t ask. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but it was eating away at her. What was he writing? That Whumpee was being difficult?
Does it fucking matter what he wrote? A joyless voice commented in her head. We’re subject to his whims anyways.
Whumpee swallowed and lay back on the bed, opting to stare at the ceiling and try and stop her chest from caving in. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!
She had it all planned perfectly and then at the last second, at the last second she hesitated. She saw a fucking— and that fucking— their parents— she—
Fuck.
Whumper’s voice snapped her from her panic. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Something condescending,” Whumpee offered, keeping her eyes on the ceiling. God this room was so fucking ugly. At least it was a change from the blue walls of the ward. And the stupid paintings of the ocean, and boats on a sea and large relaxing landscapes that were supposed to make you see the beauty of life or whatever. It was dumb. This is dumb. This is so dumb!
Whumpee flinched when Whumper appeared overhead. She threw herself to the opposite side of the bed, but it probably looked as pathetic as it felt. Whumpee’s wide eyes fixed on Whumper’s impassive green-eyed stare, and she wanted to scream again. God fuck! When was the adrenaline going to leave her?! She thought it already had when she saw Nolon and his partner but now?! It seemed to have reignited with vigour after meeting Whumper—
And she couldn’t—
Get—
Away.
Whumpee’s eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that wasn’t there. There wasn’t even a window into the ward, it was just four walls and a skylight above showing the stars and darkness resting above her, tranquil. Mocking her. Callous observers,
“Let me make one thing clear to you, Whumpee,” Whumper said. He reached down and grabbed Whumpee’s cuffed wrist and yanked it back to the edge, pulling Whumpee onto her back, heart hammering, and unbuckled the leather slowly. Whumpee wanted to look at what he was doing but she didn’t want to take his eyes off his face. “I will not tolerate disrespect.”
As he said that, he pulled at the leather strap and Whumpee gasped as her arm was yanked down hard and suddenly. She didn’t have time to pull it back before Whumper had already re-buckled and fastened the strap, so Whumpee’s wrist had less movement.
“Wait—” she croaked as she stared down at her wrist and tried to pull it back towards her waist, the way Nolon’s partner left it, but it didn’t budge. Whumper moved down to Whumpee’s left ankle and started the same practiced routine. “Wait! Wait! I’m sorry. I’m sorry for disrespecting you, I just— had a very hectic night and I’m— fuck!”
Whumpee hissed as her leg was dragged further down the bed, and she was forced to lie flat or strain her aching thigh. Whumper walked around to the end of the bed and grabbed the rails, pinning Whumpee with his quiet, violent stare.
“I will not tolerate sass or disobedience, Whumpee. When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it honestly and promptly. This is to help me, help you.”
“How does tightening my restraints help me?!” Whumpee spat, arching her body at the waist to glare at the bastard.
Whumper sighed theatrically, an imitation of human behaviour. He walked to the right side of Whumpee’s bed and grabbed her ankle restraint. “No! Stop it! STOP! DON’T! FUCK YOU!”
Whumper’s smile was cold. “The green room is soundproofed so you don’t disturb other patients on the ward.”
That fact hit Whumpee harder than a punch to her chest. It knocked all the wind from her body, and it let Whumper restrain her right ankle to the bed, pulling the leather as far as he could so even an inch of movement pulled the restraint taut.
“You’re going to be a difficult one,” Whumper hummed as he fastened the restraint and moved to Whumpee’s wrist. Whumpee yanked her hand across her waist, trying in vain to keep it away from Whumper’s clutches, fighting back frustrated tears as she did. “I can tell. I just told you this room is soundproofed and the first thing you do is go silent. Vindictive. Quite… a manipulative quality.” Whumper inclined his chin at Whumpee. “Don’t you think?”
“What? Are you trying to get a rise out of me?” Whumpee asked baffled. “What kind of doctor are you?”
“An effective one,” Whumper said and grabbed Whumpee’s cuff and pulled it towards the edge of the bed.
“Let me go! Don’t! Just leave me one inch of movement!”
Whumper didn’t listen. He unbuckled the cuff and Whumpee yanked her arm to her left, but Whumper caught it with ease and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Uncooperative.”
Whumpee hissed as Whumper yanked the leather taut and pinned her arm to the side of the bed. “Can you be gentle?!”
“Angry. Very angry.”
“If you read my file you’d see I was without my emotions for a few years, so believe it or not, this is progress dickhead!”
Whumper clucked his tongue again. “Oh, Whumpee. I read that you were intelligent. You should know not to antagonise your doctors. My job is to help you.”
“It doesn’t really feel like that right now,” Whumpee snarled, lifting her head off the bed, the only part of her body she could still move.
“Don’t worry, Whumpee. I’ll help you relax. You’re very high strung right now. We can resume this debrief in the morning.”
Whumpee frowned. What? Was he leaving her? Whumper loomed over Whumpee and reached across the bed frame. Whumpee flattened against the bed.
“What— what’re you doing?”
But he didn’t answer before Whumpee saw one last strap in the corner of her eye. “No! No! NO!”
“I fear you’ll hurt yourself.”
Whumpee turned her head left and right, tried to pull herself up and duck under the strap but it was futile. The strap ran across her forehead, forcing it down. She whimpered as Whumper tightened it until Whumpee couldn’t lift her head from the pillows.
“There,” Whumper said as he finished tying her down with a flourish. “Now,” and he immediately walked away, happy that Whumpee couldn’t move or thrash anymore. “I read that you were prescribed Xanax but have been refusing it. Is that true Whumpee?”
Whumpee stared at the ceiling. She felt nauseous. She wanted to throw up, but her stomach had nothing in it to vomit out. Fuck. Fuck. If she ate more, she may have been able to fucking… run faster or something!
“I will give you one more chance, Whumpee. I understand these rules are new for you.” Whumpee screwed her eyes shut. “Have you been refusing Xanax?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Yes.” She said after a pause.
“Why?”
“Because it dulls my thoughts,” Whumpee replied, her voice catching slightly. “It makes me drowsy and forces me to sleep and I can’t think about anything when I take them. And I like to have a clear head.”
Whumper hummed, wrote something down, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll request a dose for tonight to help you sleep.”
Whumpee yanked at her restraints. “No,” she cried, turning her head with an effort to face Whumper. “Please! Please. It makes my head so heavy, please!”
“Whumpee, I want you to sleep tonight.”
“But I— I will, just not Xanax please!”
Whumper considered her for a moment. He lowered the clipboard in his hands and nodded. “Okay. I will get you something to help you sleep though.”
Whumpee nodded. Or tried to anyways. “Yes. Please, thank you doctor.”
Whumper nodded again and smiled, a little warmer this time. “Okay. See? We can be civil to each other. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Whumpee watched the door as he left and frowned. She tested her restraints again but nothing. Maybe… maybe she misjudged Whumper. Maybe… in her heightened mania she was just, just— it annoyed her to think.
She could feel her thoughts as they tried to form, feel them like someone was injecting tungsten through her ear canal to her brain, weighing it heavier and heavier. Whumpee just wanted to sink down beneath the bed, under the floor, through the earth. She wanted her brain to carry her down as gravity grasped her tightly.
Something to sleep would help. Whumpee breathed out. She would nod if she could have. It would help.
It would.
The door opened again and Whumper stepped in. The door clicked shut. Whumpee was thankful that the bed was raised at a 45-degree angle so she could still see around her as Whumper came to stand beside her with a bottle of water with a straw in it and a cup of pills.
“These are your regular pills, and then a sleeping one for tonight.”
Whumpee glanced at the cup of pills. She scanned for the Xanax, but sometimes pills were given in their generic form and then they all looked the same.
She hesitated as he brought a pill to her mouth. She didn’t open. “I– please… no… no–”
“You need to trust me, Whumpee,” Whumper said softly. Her eyes flicked to his as she swallowed the dryness in her throat. His expression was softer. “I want to help you. Just the pills, your… I will send in a nurse to get you new socks and then you can sleep, okay? Put today behind you.”
Tears rushed to Whumpee’s eyes at his words, and she nodded, or tried to, her chin moved up and down and that was as close as she could get. She opened her mouth for the first pill. He placed it in her mouth. She swallowed and Whumper pressed the straw to her lips as the first tears crawled down her cheeks.
“That’s it. It’s okay, Whumpee. You’ll be okay.”
They repeated the process until all the pills were gone. Whumper pressed the straw to her lips one final time and Whumpee drank greedily. She pulled back and sniffled.
“There. Now. Good girl. You’ll feel better tomorrow, okay?”
Whumpee swallowed. “Okay.”
Whumper placed the bottle beside Whumpee’s bed and gathered the clipboard and pen from the chair. “Okay. I’ll send in a nurse to change your socks, and… is there anything else you need?”
Whumpee’s bottom lip trembled. “Uh… more blankets please.”
Whumper smiled. He nodded. “More blankets. Of course. Good night Whumpee.”
What if, due to fighting villains so much, Hero contracts a serious illness that threatens to completely debilitate them.
Hero is nothing without their crime fighting work, so they seek out one of the best doctors in the city.
The doctor gives Hero a drug that keeps the illness in remission. But Hero needs to come in for injections twice a week.
Hero complies with this schedule religiously. After a few months, not only is the illness almost gone, but Hero feels better than they have in years.
And the doctor is so kind, so understanding. They never ask Hero where they get their bruises or broken bones, just patch them up good as new. As if they know exactly where Hero was injured.
For once in Hero's life, they are the ones being taken care of. They forgot how incredible that feeling was.
One day, the doctor steps out with a flustered nurse while Hero is getting injected.
"I'll be back soon," they promise on the way out. "Just sit tight and wait for me." Then with a swish of their doctor's coat, they disappear behind the door.
Hero obliges, letting the drug soothe the aches in their bones. But then the machine cuts off abruptly. Hero looks but the IV bag is still half full.
Confused, they ease off the operating chair. The plug is attached to the outlet. All the wiring seems fine.
Then Hero notices that the doctor left their clipboard behind. Hero's never read the clipboard. They can't even remember the last time the doctor let the clipboard out of their sight.
Hero knows they shouldn't but the notes are about them, after all. Besides, they want to know what the doctor thinks of all their strange injuries so poorly explained.
The first page is normal medical jargon. Hero flips through the second, third, fourth.
It's not until they reach the last page that they find handwritten notes.
"Strongest at .5 meters"
"Test 3mg more of Haepoxulin."
"Monitor activities during witching hour more closely."
"Do NOT taser right leg. Femur still healing."
Hero tested their step on their right leg. The leg felt healthy, better than healthy. What did the doctor--
A sharp pain shot up Hero's leg. Their knee buckles. Hero clutches the arms of the operating chair, agony locking them in place.
"You've been wanting to read that, haven't you?"
Hero's eyes whip towards the door. Supervillain stands in the doorway, holding the doctor's coat over their arm.
Hero tries to lunge, but the pain keeps them in place.
"What did you do to the doctor?" Hero yells, hatred burning from their gaze. "If you touched a hair on their heads, I'll--"
Supervillain shakes their head. "Ever the savior. To busy asking what I did to them," shaking out the coat, Supervillain pulls it over their shoulders, "to wonder what I did to you."
Hero's blood freezes. There's that roguish grin the doctor always wears, that stubborn cowlick the doctor can never comb down.
"You--you're--how?" Hero's heart twists with rage, confusion, hurt. "Was it all a lie?"
"Of course not. I couldn't have my favorite Hero dying. Who would thwart my plans? Life's so boring when everything goes your way," They press a small button on the device in their hand, "Don't you think, Hero?"
A thousand shock waves jolt through Hero's body. They crumple to the floor, writhing from the neurons coursing through their blood.
Supervillain clicks the button again. The agony stops at once. In its place, healing strength flows into Hero's muscles.
Hero's eyes roll back in their head. Consciousness weakens and the world swims into darkness.
Before Hero can fully pass out, they turn their head to ask Supervillain one more question: "Why...?"
Supervillain's, no, the doctor's roguish grin is the last thing Hero sees before the world goes dark.
It's the evening before the surgery. The doctor's in the prepping room, finishing up some necessary details before clocking out.
The nurses are already running the closing reports. Some have left.
Whumpee lies naked on the guerney, strapped down, a simple cloth wound tight over their mouth. Whumper can't help but smile when he notices.
The nurses must have done that. Not to keep whumpee from screaming, though. But whumpee does so like to ask questions.
Whumper pulls out a sharpie. Quietly, methodically, he marks out the parts on Whumpee's body that need to be operated on. That flab on their stomach, elasticity in their neck, plumpness in their cheeks.
Whumpee whimpers through their gag, trying to pull away. One of Whumper's lines gets smeared.
"Now, now, you don't want me to make the wrong incision, do you?" Whumper's tongue clicks as he swabs away the line with an alcoholic concoction.
Shaking their head, Whumpee tries to say something but the gag stops them.
"What?" Whumper asks, "You want to know what I'm changing?"
Hey hey ya'll. Enjoy this little one-off FoW I made for @vivisectophile 's oc: Dr. Easterman's pet
Dr. Easterman was a creature of habit. Run preliminary tests in the morning, stabilize the subjects in the afternoon, set them off on their nightly trials by evening.
And then of course, he would finally have a moment to himself, a few precious hours to take his notes and catalog the events of the day.
"Another lost by midday. #302," he jotted in his notebook, "Must lessen the dosage for #148. Too much calcium."
A shuffle sounded at his feet. Without looking, Easterman lowered his hand, finding the mottled curls by his knee.
"There's a good boy," he murmured passively. He jotted a few more necessary thoughts for the morning. "Did you miss your master?"
A soft whine and the head bumped against his leg pleadingly. He hardly spared it a glance, the poor body wrapped up in straitjacket, a dog muzzle tightly strapped around its skull, a thick red collar around its neck should it ever get lost.
Oh, it didn't have a name on that tag, just one simple sentence: if found, return to Dr. H. J. Easterman.
Finally, he pushed away from his desk. "There now, you want a treat, don't you?"
The hungry thing roused at once, pitiful and needy. Reaching into a jar across the desk, the Doctor produced some bright candies.
At once, it shivered with excitement, eyes so fastened on the treat, it didn't realize its begun to drool.
"Ah, ah, down, boy," Doctor Easterman chided, putting the candy in his own mouth, "Dogs can't eat sugar."
The poor thing almost collapsed from want. But with a few scratches beneath the chin, the Doctor roused it well enough. Standing, Dr. Easterman found the emptied foodbowl in the corner. Such time had passed since its last usage, some old bits were hardened to the tin.
He could hear how it shuffled across the floor, unable to run, not knowing what it needed or why. Just aimlessly searching for the truth he'd long since taken from it.
"Come, boy," he patted his thigh, "Come eat."
It rolled few times before it was finally able to shunt itself to the bowl of food. Then it lay on the ground, spent and sad.
"Up, boy," Easterman said, "Work for your food."
He patted his thigh again. With a keening whine, it pushed itself into a sitting position, heave by painful heave. Then, plaintively, it rested its muzzled chin in the doctor's palm.
Slowly, Easterman undid the strap. "Good boy."
Freed from its oral prison, the poor thing lunged for the food.
"Stop!"
It halted on command, face inches away from the conveteous food.
"Good boy. Wait until I say so," and the doctor placed the muzzle on the table. Settling back at his desk, he continued on his notes, never looking towards the frozen creature, never caring how its body shook with desperate hunger.
He didn't even hear how quickly it devoured the food he left it when finally, two house later, he gave it permission to eat...
Draining whumpee's blood in order to centrifuge a special resource from it
Hooking whumpee up to an IV that contains some form of sedative, paralytic, or similar formula inside of it
A physically powerful whumpee needing to be held down by a group, as a sedative is forcefully entered into their system
Whumpee watching their blood exit their veins through a tube, knowing theirs nothing they can do, slowly realizing that they're taking too much
Whumpee getting their blood drained, not knowing if their captors are going to stop before it's too late, or if they plan to get rid of whumpee this way after all
Filing down whumpee's sharp teeth, their pointed claws, sawing off their horns, tying down their tail. Whatever needs to be done to keep the nonhuman whumpee from having an advantage.
Whumpee being kept sedated or out of it, until they are needed for their magic
Muzzled and/or restrained whumpee lashing out at the doctors analyzing
Whumpee's every nonhuman aspect being analyzed, their privacy completely invaded, as doctors poke and prod, crooning over their find
A group of whumpees are captures, and they all fear the worse. However after one is found to be more rare than the others, they quickly discover that for one of them, it's going to be much much worse.
Multiple whumpees getting separated based off of the research that needs to be conducted on them
A limp whumpee, kept down for research, needing to be moved or treated as a comatose patient since the doctors dealing with them are too scared of their abilities
Testing to see what whumpee reacts painfully too, how they heal from the different things tested on them, watching them slowly grow terrified of the scientist opening their door
Taking a marker to whumpee's skin and going to town, preparing for the next set of plans
Forcing whumpee to use their magic or nonhuman abilities far past their limit
Whumpee growing more and more tired as they loose their magic/blood, watching the world darken and the noise of life muffle
Doctors taunting and teasing a heavily restrained whumpee. Whumpee, who is normally such a dangerous creature, can do nothing as they pull on their tail or forcibly spread out their wings
Hands latching onto whumpee's face, moving their head into the position they need to
Whumpee waking to the feeling of fingers prodding for the perfect injection spot
Strapping whumpee down to a table, the doctor admiring their work, thinking they'd never see a nonhuman of this type to work on
Whumpee being returned to a cell full of other nonhuman whumpees after a finish experiment, being plopped down unceremoniously in front of the others, before the doctor looks up to pick the next one
Tattooing whumpee to know what experiment group they belong to
Holding an oxygen mask to whumpee's face, watching as the mist of a sedative kicks in
My favorite trope is the sadistic scientist/doctor whumper, so I may have indulged…
1. “The greatest scientific discoveries often require us to step outside of our comfort zones. Are you willing to take that leap with me?”
2. “It will only hurt for a moment.”
3. “My dear, the ends always justify the means. Think of how so many people will find our research beneficial. You aren’t being selfish, are you?”
4. “Morality is just a construct created by society.”
5. “Everything we do is in the name of science… and science requires sacrifice.”
6. “You should feel privileged. Few people have the chance to contribute so directly to the advancement of science.”
7. “I understand your apprehension, but remember, you agreed to this.”
8. “I must admit, darling, I find your resilience quite admirable. You’re much stronger than my previous test subjects. But don’t worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to break even the strongest of wills.”
9. “I assure you, I have done this many times before. You will be fine.”
10. “I know the methods I use may seem cruel to the unenlightened mind, but you’ll understand… one day.”
11. “I’ll have to remember to make note of this in my journal. Fascinating.”
12. “The line between genius and madness is a thin one, so go ahead and call me mad. To me, it’s a compliment.”
13. “You signed a consent form, correct? Then you fully knew the risks.”
14. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just a little longer and we’’ll have all the data we need.”
15. “I’m sorry, but the procedure was not a complete success. We’ll have to try again. As many times as it takes. You understand, right?”
Waking up in a hospital room. There's immense pain in my leg. My vision is blurry but I can make out a silhouette as it stands from the chair beside the bed. My hand is gently engulfed in warmth. The smell of cigarettes and disinfectant oddly puts me at ease.
Slowly I can make out a doctor standing over me. He pushes up his glasses with his free hand. "I'm so glad you're awake. We were worried. Luckily, you're very resilient."
"what happened?" I want to try to sit up but it hurts at even the slightest attempt.
"You had an accident and broke your leg. We'll be watching over you while it heals." The doctor explains.
Carefully looking down at my leg, I can see the cast.
"...who...am I?"
"You're my patient. That's all that matters."
Blinking at such a confident response... It just made sense. "I'm your patient." I repeat softly.
A/N: Here's my first little whump snippet with my mad doctor oc, Rhea! Hope you enjoy! :D
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"Hello! My name is Dr. Rhea Klyne. And you are in the wrong sector. Please stay calm, remain where you are, and let our expert team of medical staff locate you so they can bring you back to where you need to be. Thank you!"
The cheery voice on the intercom still somehow managed to sound a bit menacing. How did anyone know you were down here? You could've sworn that everyone upstairs was occupied. But it seems that isn't the case.
The good doctor had told you to stay put, but a sneaking suspicion told you something was off. This floor looked less "family friendly." A complete turn around from the colorful wallpaper and cozy atmosphere from the lobby on the upper floor. This floor had stark white tile as far as your eye could see. Not a chair in sight. The lack of windows didn't help your paranoia.
But the doctor said that the staff would find you. Soon, you'd be back to their warm but artificial smiles and the overwhelming smell of oranges and flowers. All you had to do was be a good little patient and sit still. No big deal..
Too bad you were horrible at following directions.
The echo of your footsteps made the empty hall feel even more vast than it already was. Dead silence. Not even a door creak reached your ears. You could only imagine what this floor was for. Medicine development? Observation? Or something darker?
Curiosity got the better of you. Walking to a random door, you put your ear to the cold metal. Trying the handle alone wasn't successful. So, using the key card you swiped off the orderly's belt from earlier, you put it up to the scanner. The red light blinking before flashing bright green, allowing you entry.
Similar white tile shrouded in dim light was what you were greeted with. The loud humming of the AC was almost enough to cover a muffled sound coming from further inside. Peeking in, the sight was questionable. A writhing mass of cloth and buckles strapped down in a chair. It took you a while to realize it was someone in a straightjacket. Carefully removing the hood off of the figure's head, the individual let out a muffled scream.
A young man with short black hair stared back at you with wide eyes. His sunken in cheeks gave you an idea of how long he'd been down here. The man writhed in his seat, crying out behind his gag as the restraints dug into his skin.
You quickly remove the gag on his face. "Pleasel! Y-you have to get me out of here! These people are crazy! She's crazy!!!!" You hardly have a moment to process his words before an alarm sounds. The blaring noise fillng the hallway.
Running back out of the room, you pale as 3 tall men in white uniforms and masks rush into the room you just came out of. The man's screams echoing from behind.
"W-wait! Pleasel!! Get that away from mel!! No! NO-"
"Ah! There you are. Allow us to take you back upstairs, patient. Did you get lost? You aren't supposed to be down here."
A patronizingly sweet tone came from behind you. Startled, you turn around as narrowed eyes meet your gaze. One of the nurses smiled behind her mask as she put a hand on your arm.
"Um- y-yeah. Is that guy going to be okay?" You stammer. The nurse's eyes scrunch as she smiles again. "Oh.... Don't worry about them, they're sick. Now, let's get you back on the right floor, patient. You need to be checked in." Her grip tightens as she takes you back to the elevator.
What a wiley little patient you are, playing where you're not supposed to.
Surgeon whumper methodically washing their hands and arms before dressing themself with flawless sterile technique before absolutely surgically brutalizing whumpee for hours on end
CW: medical whump, surgery, medication tampering, extremely incorrect depiction of hospital procedure
—
Obviously you know general anesthesia is indicated for this procedure. Any halfway decent doctor would, and you are, despite everything, a halfway decent doctor. But you also know that it’s not necessary.
You know you can skip the analgesic and savor every twitch and squirm when you cut or press in the right spot. You’re pretty good at compensating for the involuntary movement while you’re working. And anyway, a little extra cut never killed— usually didn’t kill anyone.
You also know roughly how much to reduce the sedative dose to get memory blockade without unconsciousness. If you do it right, you get to see the panic rise behind their eyes when they realize they should be asleep by now. Get to see their desperation as they fight the paralytic, trying to tell you something’s wrong. And, if you’re very lucky, their terror when you wink at them and just keep cutting.
If you don’t do it right, and they remember, well. These things happen sometimes. You can read about it. It’s unfortunate, but it’s nobody’s fault. The records will show you used the appropriate dose — you make sure they do. They might think you did it on purpose, and it’s understandable that they’d be upset, but their mind probably fabricated those memories to cope with what was happening. They were sedated, after all.
You know you should just let them walk away, once the hospital convinces them to stop trying to make it a medical malpractice case. But you can’t help yourself. They looked back one last time, just long enough to see you give them a wink.
Lab Whumpee but good news! The scientists can now use scans to check Whumpee's insides, no need to cut them open for everything anymore.
They're so happy about it, now they can use the Whumpees way longer, they don't become useless after a few surgeries and die. They can be more specific and accurate. Also fun for Whumpee! They can see all the horrible things that have been done to their insides on the screens. So informative.
thinking about a doctor/scientist whumper who regularly drugs whumpee. maybe whumper places a picc line so they don't have to always find a vein, and so the drugs work faster. whumpee is kept sedated regularly, but not comfortable. just sedated enough that they can't defend themself against whumper's experiments.
when whumper comes into whumpee's cell for more drugs, whumpee is just lucid enough to beg "please, no more. please, i'll be good. please."
the spot where whumpee was injected is sensitive now, anyone else touching it sends them into a panic attack. maybe the picc line left a scar, maybe the skin was broken so many times it won't heal. even if caretaker, the person whumpee trusts more than anyone, touches it, it still makes their heart pound.
i think my favorite anything ever is some form of institutionalized whump (lab whump, to be specific) where all the whumpees (ahem ahem, test subjects!) are given shock collars. it's the first level of discipline; they step out of line, and they're given a little zap! it's a nice little warning, a reminder of what is to come if they continue to disobey!
...until, after months or even years of captivity, these tiny zaps accumulate as nerve damage and electricity burns, which are a torture in their own right. not only will the whumpee flinch every time they say something they deem as "punishable," bracing for shocks long after the collar has been removed, but their flesh will bear a permanent reminder of the years they spent trapped and collared like an animal.
Welcome to Intron school of bioethics violation. If you are in mood for science whump that involve taking sample from your subject but not sure where to start. This is a guide to basic tools use for tissue sampling your subject and what for.
Disclaimer : I’m just a random lab guy so if I got something wrong pls do tell (with reference attached). Don’t expect writing consistency because it’s 4am rn. Also writing off the top of my head so probably gonna mess up.
I try to pick mildest image with no blood, not gross or scary imagery for each one but it is medical procedure so it might gross out few people. If you choose to continue reading I've warned you. Do not complain at me
Reason you want to sample your subject
Could be anything from to keep sample for future use, analysis, cell culture, to diagnosis and identification. Basic rule of sampling is you have to do it very clean because you don’t want things to contaminate. You can try ask any science people in my blog how that word haunting them (cry laugh sob cry do lab rinse repeat).
Sample have to be small because the important thing is you preserve it for your lab work, which mean either handling it immediately, flash freeze or dip into preserving medium or fixation. Big chunk won’t do because it can’t freeze fast enough and don’t preserve well
Most I do is either for flash freeze preservation, for cell culture and for genetic analysis
Non invasive
I’ll keep this short because it probably not interesting to whump maker. This is mostly study stuff that stick to your subject than subject itself but also have interesting one
- swabbing
as the name say you take stick with sterile gauze and rub where you want sample. It work with surface microbe on skin and cheek cell. This is how test kit like 23andMe and genetic test get your cell to extract DNA. The banner on my blog also show cat man got swab for cheek cell. The problem with getting cheek cell for DNA is high chance for contamination and cheek cell in the swab might not enough for DNA work
- tape stripping
Kind of same to swab but more spicy. Use for sampling skin microbe and fungi. Could also use for testing skin barrier function. I never do this so can’t say much
- skin scraping
Scrap skin with scalpel blade or glass microscope slide edge. Scrap off superficial skin layer. Mainly use to check for fungi or parasitic infection. I remember threaten to do this to one of my lab mate with suspected scabies once (no itch mite founded fortunately)(it was a hassle looking for KOH)
Anw the non invasive part aside, it’s time to get into pain territory but I can assure you there are more tools to use than just scalpel that equally sucks both to give and to receive. Normally it is done with local anesthetic but eh if your lab are super broke maybe you have to do it without one. I'd say local numb won't ruin your lore because when it wear out the pain still hurt the same, plus less stress on your subject so less data screw up chance
Skin
- scissor biopsy
This one you get to use scalpel blade to either shave off thin slice of skin, or can angle 45˚ to go a bit deeper into dermis or fat layer. There are also curve blade for scooping cancer. Ofc it gonna hurt. Aside from sampling this also can be use for cutting off skin wart and skin tag
- punch biopsy
Circle tube shape blade press into skin down to fat layer, twist and take out piece of skin in tube shape. This one HURT and do leave scar. Method consider very invasive since you literally poke a hole on your subject body. Also infection risk. Iirc punch biopsy hole can heal on it own but bigger punch need stitch. I never try this and hope to never will
- suction blister
Vacuum chamber piece of skin (usually 10x10 mm) then apply some heat. You got a blister. This is either to test the fluid between skin layer or to cut off piece of skin that become blister for testing. This heal faster and somewhat less pain than other method above at cost of become super itchy and can’t be use in every case. Pick your poison I guess?
Thick tissue (muscle, organ tissue)
- biopsy needle
- ear punch
Big long needle for cutting cylinder piece of tissue from organ or muscle. It can be use for sample deeper into body. Usually pair with ultrasound probe to see where your needle is going because big long needle poking where it not supposed to be can become catastrophic. This can be use on muscle, thyroid, breast tissue, lung tissue, and more. But that’s all I can remember for now
basically stab your subject with big ass needle and when you get to target zone you press the button to cut and hold sample for extraction
This is mainly animal thing. Using cylinder circle blade to punch a hole in animal ear to keep piece of that ear for genetic analysis or for cell culture. I don't think this work on human because complex shape ear but eh you can try?
It work like normal ear tag punch but instead of piking a hole and attach tag you cut a hole and seal the sample tube in one squeeze. Pretty convenient if your subject have big ear (look at cat man)
Blood (and marrow)
- blood sample
The same to you go to med tech lab and get your blood draw. It is done pretty much the same everywhere I guess? Also you can’t fight the faint if it cause by your nervous system being dramatic and drop blood pressure and heart rate so hard your brain black out for a minute
Every blood vessel you can poke into and draw blood are vein, do not say artery in front of me because you'll die tapping into pressurized tap. I know this because I poke tiny artery in the finger open by accident and it take six hour of bleeding and ER visit to make it stop. Smaller poke mean blood slowly push out but if you hit the big you get blood fountain. POKE VEIN ONLY.
- marrow sample
This one you need a drill, have to drill into big piece of bone that contain blood making cell like hip bone then sampling some of that. The sampling is the easy part, the drilling is the hard one. This is done to people who need bone marrow transplant and give marrow too. Very scary I know but if you can pls sign up for marroe donation because you might end up saving someone life for real
Anyway. There are probably more biopsy type than listed and I should add more detail into each method like how it is done and pros/cons and adding reference and formatting but I need to sleep first. No sleep make me stupid
Feel free to request more technique or ask about what you want to do to your blorbo and I'll look up if anything similar exists
Reference will follow when Im more awake sorry for bad format btw never use tumblr on pc before
thinking about lab whump where the laboratory itself tries really hard to be "ethical" and treat their captured specimens well, all while refusing to let them go. i feel like, in certain ways, that is more mentally damaging than a place that treats its captives like shit. having a bunch of people feigning care and empathy in this weird, patronizing way must be so emotionally damaging. and where every good thing around you is so painfully manufactured and shoved down your throat in the name of "enrichment"? dude
