My bestie @lioness--hart helped me figure out a workaround for my ao3 not loading issue. so i once again have access to the promised land
so a) i can start posting some of this stuff finally and
b) i have to go diggy dig thru the nice guys tag and see if there's any march whump. i know he's basically a cartoon character and cant die but uh... i wanna smack him around.
Like do y'all KNOW Shane Black's filmography?? He smacks his dudes around. Martin Riggs, Roger Murtagh, Harry Lockhart, they all got tortured and shot and beat the shit out of.
He went easy on March and Healy.
I need somebody else who grew up on lethal weapon and who saw the ball torture scene from kiss kiss bang bang to hit me with that good march whump or I'll have to do it myself AND I DONT HAVE TIME THERES TOO MUCH ITS TOO MANY IDEAS
one of the fic prompts that @theruxpinator sent me.
Bones felt like, for a lack of a better word, crap when he woke up. His head was pounding behind his eyes and he had the general feeling of malaise that comes along with fever and congestion. He groaned and rolled over in his bunk, shivering and pulling his blanket up further to his chin, trying to get warm enough to catch some more z’s.
The sounds of people sleeping were gone, which meant it was probably the morning. He really felt like grabbing Crash’s blanket from his bed so he could go back to sleep, feeling too much like garbage to actually get up and face the day.
Then the sliding door opened and someone shook him by the shoulder, “Bones, it’s like eleven,” it was the commander who was shaking him, “we’re gonna start on the road now so get up, you missed breakfast.” He left the room before bones could even acknowledge him.
He pushed himself up onto shaky arms and instantly got hit with vertigo and a wave of nausea. The room tilted and his vision greyed. Someone once told him that if you flex your abs, that grey out goes away.
That did not work and he found himself back on his back, eyes shut against the spinning around him. He knew he had to not be suspicious so he thought his best course of action would be to roll out of bed so that he didn’t pass out.
He made sure to grab the neck of his guitar and slide it across the bed so that it didn’t clatter to the floor and pulled himself off, covers and all.
After a few attempts, he managed to stand up without the world trying to become static and got dressed. This was one of the days where he hated the thin uniform of the Aquabats. A rash guard and board shorts were not the best at warming up someone with a fever.
He made his way to the cockpit and sat in his seat, giving Ricky a small nod, hoping that would be enough of a greeting.
Ricky took it, though he glanced eaglebones up and down with a slight look of concern before turning to face forward and put his seatbelt on, grabbing his iPod from his pocket and beginning to listen to his horrible (in eaglebones’ opinion) 2000s pop music.
Bones closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the road, hoping it would keep his nausea at bay and distract him from how cold he was feeling.
He felt the sounds around him blend together and he began to fall asleep. He wanted to wait to get to wherever they were going to go back to the bunk room quietly and go to sleep.
He tried to stay awake, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open.
Ricky was blissfully listening to Rihanna’s ‘SOS’ in his ear phones when he felt something lean against him. He turned from where he was looking out the window, or at least was trying to look out the window, and saw eaglebones asleep against his shoulder.
His face was pale except for his cheeks, which were flushed, he felt eaglebones’ face through his rash guard was very warm. Ricky got a weird panic in his stomach. Germs germs GERMS! He was about to push eaglebones off his shoulder, but then he took another look at his face.
He was sleeping peacefully and Ricky knew that it was hard to sleep peacefully when you’re ill. Instead of moving Bones off his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close so that his arm wouldn’t fall asleep because he was leaning on it.
Bones nuzzled into Ricky’s shoulder, his face was hot. Ricky knew that Bones only got sorta clingy when he was really not feeling good, which was fine with Ricky, though he could stand to not get drooled on.
He went back to listening to his music, slightly adjusting his arm every now and then so that it wasn’t gonna get drenched in sweat.
When the tram finally stopped, it was 1:00. They stopped so that they could make some food.
Ricky nudged his friend awake, “Hey, wake up, you can go to sleep in your bed.” Bones woke up and, after a few tries, got up and went to the bunk room.
Ricky went to the living area where everyone was and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder, “Hey, when we start moving again, can eaglebones stay in the bunk room? He’s sick.” He asked, grabbing his handigel and disinfecting his hands.
Jimmy nodded, “Yeah, I’m gonna go check on him.” Jimmy left and Ricky began making himself a salad.
He knew he was probably gonna get sick, but totally worth it.
also made an art for it (not really an artist don’t know how to draw that well.)
Stoic whumpee being stubborn about being able to bath themselves. Caretaker the whole time… Sure. What ever you say.
I hope this is okay!! I might've made the caretaker a little too worried, if this isn't what you had in mind, please don't be afraid to request again!
...
"I'm not a baby, you don't need to carry me," Whumpee grumbles. "I can walk fine."
"Are you sure? Your leg is still injured..." Along with so many other things.
Whumpee huffs and removes themselves from Caretaker's arms, as they're led into the bathroom. They look at Caretaker expectantly, ready for them to leave.
"Are you sure you don't need any help, because--"
"I'm sure, Caretaker."
Caretaker frowns and nods. "Okay, but if you need me, just call my name."
Just as Caretaker slowly closes the door shut behind them, Whumpee puts a plug in the drain and turns the water on, then gets undressed and into the tub. They seethe as the water hits some of their injuries, but it still feels nice.
When they try reaching for the shampoo, though, it falls to the ground, making a louder noise than they thought it would. They groan quietly when they hear Caretaker knock on the door.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, Caretaker, I'm fine."
"Did you fall?"
"I am not that light."
"Well..."
"It was a shampoo bottle. Now can you please let me have some peace?"
"Okay, okay!" Even though they can't see it, Whumpee imagines Caretaker putting their hands up in surrender. "If you need me--"
"--just call your name, I know." Whumpee slumps back into the tub exasperatedly. They listen to Caretaker hover behind the door for a couple of seconds, then they finally relax when they hear the footsteps quietly move away.
Hardened and no-nonsense (can come across as callous/exasperated) Medic + inexperienced and slightly terrified Whumpee, and Whumpee needs stitches or other painful field treatment without pain meds available?
I went with firemen, because they are a blast. Haha! Get it! Anyway, love this trope. Thanks for requesting it.
A building had collapsed. Again.
Caretaker barely noticed it anymore. It was just a part of living in a world of superpeople. They broke things to “save the city”, then ran off when it was time to pay the bill. And today seemed to be some major battle because the earth had been shaking more than usual and calls had been coming in from everywhere.
Before they left, the Caretaker saw the rookies getting ready. It would be their first mission. They looked so excited: eyes gleaming, hands nervously checking their equipment. Caretaker hoped they would get a good first run: something chill, to ease them onto the job. They would have many years like Caretaker had to regret going into this career. They could have a couple of days to believe they were heroes.
The building was pretty standard. Most people were already outside. Caretaker stayed out to help with first aid. Some of their comrades went inside to search for the rest of the victims. Everything was running smoothly: people were being put into ambulances and evacuated, bit by bit.
Which, of course, was when the world went to shit. Figures.
The Caretaker’s walkie-talkie blared. Their team was going to be split in two because they were the closest location to the attack. Supervillains trying to destroy City Hall. Caretaker didn’t know why they kept building that place up since it got blown up all the time.
“Some of ours were inside.” Said dispatch as the Caretaker got into the truck. “The rookies. They were picking up donations for last week’s victims.”
Caretaker swore. The truck lit up its lights and sirens and they raced to city hall. Another truck had arrived and was already trying to put out the fire. Caretaker runs inside, with two others right behind them. One separates once they enter the hall. The ceiling has a gaping, flaming hole, which isn’t very encouraging.
As they went from room to room, their colleague gathered the people who could walk and started walking them back to the entrance. Caretaker was alone. But that was fine. That had happened many times before.
Caretaker helped a worker whose desk had fallen on her and handed her off through the window to a colleague. The rest of the floor was mostly evacuated. Then, as they walked past the elevator towards the stairs, they heard whimpering.
“Hello?” They called out.
“Here!” They heard, from below, through the elevator doors. Caretaker quickly took out the tool and got the doors opened. The elevator car was halfway here, halfway down. The cables were all twisted and it looked like it was the only thing holding it in place and keeping it from breaking down. “I- I’m here.”
Called the person again. Caretaker carefully looked inside. At the bottom of the car, laid one of her rookies, Whumpee. Boxes and boxes of donations were around them on the floor under the little light coming from her flashlight. Their body however, was on the floor. An insane amount of blood covered the floor of the elevator.
“They had—” They tried to say, eyes so pained they were unfocused. “They had donations— The… the elevator.”
“Shh. It’s fine. I get it. Let’s get you out of here.”
Caretaker assessed. Down was always better than up, especially in a flaming building. They raced down the stairs into the basement until they found the entrance to the elevator. Luckily, the doors were already opened there.
As soon as they arrived, they noticed the rookie was breathing too fast.
“Stop that.” Caretaker said, drier than they meant to. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”
The rookie looked at them with tears in their eyes.
“I thought you’d left.”
“Why would I leave? You’re stuck with me. Now, where are you hurt?”
They pointed.
“My leg. It’s pretty busted.”
One look confirmed it. It was badly dislocated. But not broken.
“We need to get you out of that elevator before it falls. Got that?”
Rookie shook their head.
“I don’t want to.”
“I didn’t ask. Give me your arms.”
Caretaker pushed the boxer aside and grabbed the Whumpee’s arms, slowly dragging them. Whumpee yelled, but didn’t squirm. Caretaker grabbed them by the shoulders and finally got them out of the elevator, grabbing their knees before they fell.
That, of course, didn’t help their injury, and they yelled again, staring to hyperventilate again.
“Hey, hey. No. None of that.” Caretaker placed them down on the floor. They took out the cylinder of oxygen at their back, opened it and placed the mask on their face. “This is a burning building and we have to get out of it, right?”
Whumpee was looking at Caretaker as if they were speaking Greek.
“Right?!” They pushed.
“Right.” Rookie said in a small voice.
“And what to we need to make that happen?”
Rookie blinked and then looked at themselves.
“For me to walk?”
“Fantastic. And how do we do that?”
Caretaker placed themselves in front of their dislocated knee.
“No.”
“Yes. Count to three.”
“No! You’re going to do it on two!”
“They give you too much training on that school! One!”
“No, no, no, no!” Rookie cried, hiding their face, but otherwise firmly secure by Caretaker’s experienced hands.
“Two!”
“Just go already!” Whumpee yelled, read in the face!”
“Three!”
“You’re supposed to go on two!”
“Four!” Caretaker pulled the leg back in its place and Rookie screamed in pain. Whumpee slumped back, their eyes rolling back, their body covered in sweat, breathing heavily.
Caretaker slapped their face lightly.
“Hey. Wake up. This is still a burning building. We have to get out.” Whumpee blinked, in pain, their breathing difficult. Caretaker held the mask closer to their face. “Deep breaths, rookie. You can do it. I’m right here.”
Caretaker sat them down. Whumpee slumped, looking like they would fall. Their hand grabbed the mask and they took two deep breaths before nodding they were ready.
Caretaker stood them up, one of their arms around their shoulders. They were carrying the Rookie more than helping them, but it was alright. They stepped once. Then twice and Caretaker had to use their injured knee. They gritted their teeth and gave another step.
Together, they would make it out of this burning building.
Thank you for reading all the way here! Reminder I take requests, I just take a VERY long time to get through them.
Could you do something with pet whump deconditioning and recovery please? I'm soft for Caretaker trying their damnedest to help Whumpee settle back into everyday life (bonus points if Whumpee and Caretaker have been friends since sandbox). Thank you!
Hi anon, sorry it took me so long to reply. If you're still around here, I hope you like what I came up with.
Thanks for your request (:
CW: pet whumpee, dehumanisation, references to past abuse, references to panic attacks, low self-esteem, conditioning, it as pronoun
Whumpee had been trying to cook something good for when its new master came home from work, and saw how useful his new pet could be. But now Master was going to find out what a failure it was and punish it properly.
For sure its owner would burn its hands as the pet burned the food, wasting master's money. It had no time now. Its owner was going to walk through the door at any moment, and Whumpee was going to gratefully accept the punishment it deserved.
The sound of the keys in the door caused Whumpee to run to the entrance to greet its master in the proper manner.
--------
The moment Caretaker opened the door, he couldn't help but smell something burning.
Whumpee was there kneeling as usual, ready to kiss his shoes. But from the way Whumpee was trembling and the smell in the house, it wasn't hard to guess that something had happened in his absence.
—Hello, Whumpee —spoke caretaker, trying to remain calm.
—Wel- welcome home, master —Whumpee muttered.
—How ar-
—Master —Whumpee interrupted him with tears in his eyes— your stupid pet ha- has ruined the dinner, and i- it is very sorry. Please, punish your slave as you see fit —said Whumpee, bowing his head after his confession.
It was very painful for Caretaker to see his lifelong friend reduced to this... no memories, no will of his own, at the mercy of his former master's orders.
It had been a few weeks since Caretaker had found Whumpee and taken him to live in his house. But in those weeks, Whumpee hadn't been able to recognize him, and every time Caretaker tried to tell his friend that he was safe now, that he was a person, that he was free, things didn't go well. Whumpee would go into a state of panic, unable to accept the truth.
So Caretaker had decided that, as much as he wanted Whumpee to go back to his old self, going so fast would end up hurting Whumpee more than helping him.
Playing a bit of the role of "master", and helping Whumpee slowly let go of what others had imposed on him, was his best strategy.
—All right Whumpee, can you show me what happened? —said Caretaker.
Whumpee stood up in one smooth motion and guided Caretaker to the mess. Caretaker walked over to the kitchen and Whumpee stood behind him, by the table. When Caretaker opened the oven, a cloud of black smoke emerged. Caretaker hoped the food wasn't as burnt as it smelled, but the black mass on the platter told him otherwise. Caretaker half expected to be able to eat what his friend had prepared. Then he could have told Whumpee that he hadn't ruined the dinner and had nothing to worry about, but he didn't think anyone would be able to eat that.
—Oh, I see, I guess we should...
--------
Even though Pet was trying not to sob, the sound was loud enough for Caretaker to stop and look at Whumpee.
—It's sorry, it's so sorry, it was really trying… —Master looked disappointed, obviously— Please punish it master, so maybe your pet can be better for you —it blurted.
—It's okay Whumpee, accidents happen, I'm not mad —Caretaker replied.
Master said he wasn't mad, but that couldn't be true. Who wouldn't be upset after coming home from a long day at work and having to deal with a pet that can't do the one thing it's master bought it to do? Whumpee had to show its master how sorry it was and that it would accept any price not to be thrown out of this new home.
—Please sir, punish your pet, ple-ase —Whumpee begged.
—No, buddy —Caretaker answered— There is no reason for that.
—Plea- please, sir. Your slave has co- committed an offence and t-his is, this is the only way it can learn and... —The tears were choking Pet, preventing it from continuing its pleas.
--------
If Caretaker didn't stop him now, Whumpee was definitely going to have a panic attack, and it could take hours before Whumpee would be able to calm down. And then, he would be scared to even breathe too hard for several days.
—Fine —stated Caretaker— I'm going to punish you. I want... I want you to throw out the food and... and I want you to clean up this mess before I finish having my bath. Then go wait for me in the living room —declared Caretaker in a commanding voice.
Noticing the relief that this caused Whumpee, almost brought tears to escape his own eyes, so he hurried to get to the bathroom and out of sight.
Half an hour later, Caretaker sat on the couch, Whumpee kneeling in his usual spot.
--------
Now was the moment of the truth, Pet had to make everything perfect and avoid making any more mistakes for today.
—Hey, can you sit here please? —Caretaker pointed out, patting the spot beside him.
Whumpee was distracted and hearing Caretaker suddenly took him by surprise.
—Pets shouldn't be-
--------
—It's alright sweetheart. I need you to help me with something —added Caretaker, knowing that having to do a task would be the only way to convince Whumpee to do something “forbidden”.
Whumpee reluctantly sat down on the edge of the sofa.
—Wha- what can it help you with, master? —Whumpee asked in a small voice.
—I need you to help me choose the food we're going to order —Caretaker smiled trying to lower the tension in the atmosphere.
--------
Oh, so its punishment wasn't over yet. It was certain this must be some kind of test. It was silly to think that it would all end so easily. After having committed such a big offence, to get so little consequences.
It was almost sure that its owner wanted to see if his pet knew its place. Its master was always trying to trick it, pretending that his pet was a person and letting it do bad things to see if it would fall into any of the traps. But Pet knew its place.
Whumpee didn't understand what it was supposed to do, but it knew it couldn't leave its master waiting.
—Pets can't make decisions, sir, it's not its place to choose —it tried.
—It's okay Whumpee, I want you to choose, I can't make up my mind —Caretaker commented, passing the phone to Whumpee with different meal options to pick from.
Whumpee hesitantly took the device in its hand and began to look through the different alternatives. Pet couldn't stop thinking that this was a trap, and that it was going to fall into it. But if this was what it had to do to be forgiven, it would do it.
It took it a while, but in the end it decided.
—Is this okay, sir?
Whumpee was ready for whatever was going to happen, but it was not ready to see its master smiling, pleased with its choice. Pet was too confused or it was too stupid to understand Caretaker's reaction. Could it be that master was no longer angry?
It could say that this master was kind, he never hurt Whumpee as the others had done. Maybe, it could just for this once hope that everything would be alright.
--------
Caretaker almost couldn't answer when he saw what Whumpee had asked for. Italian food had always been Whumpee's favourite before his disappearance. And even without his memory, that was what Whumpee chose. Knowing that filled Caretaker with hope that in the depths of Whumpee's mind there was still the person he had shared so many moments with.
