Hi! Can I get a hero whumpee giving themselves up to villain whumper in return for the safety of their city, but villain is being way softer/kinder/loving than hero thought they would be (cause hero assumed they’d be tortured or something)? But they’re still a creepy/intimate whumper, of course. Thank you!
Hello! You sure can! Let me get that started for you!
The Kindest Captor
“What is it you want, Supervillain!?” Chief called through their megaphone.
Hero looked around at the carnage around them as they nursed their bleeding arm. Asphalt jutted out of the ground in jagged spikes, while water flooded every other street. A tornado had blown through the shopping district, sending awnings and light poles flying everywhere. The fire bridge was working to put out a blaze at the bank. Supervillain hovered above it all, arms folded across their chest. They had the power of element generation and manipulation; everything from air to ice, they could create it or wield it. Hero had tried their best to defeat them, but with only cryogenesis to aid them, they had been sorely outmatched.
“What do I want, officers?” Supervillain cackled, “I would have thought it obvious.”
The paramedics tending to Hero froze as Supervillain pointed right at the crime-fighter.
“You- you want Hero?” Chief asked.
A fireball which Chief barely managed to dodge answered their question.
“Yes,” Supervillain said, “I want Hero. Give yourself up, Snowdrop, or the entire city will pay.”
Hero drew shallow breaths as though the wind had been knocked out of them. Maybe Supervillain had sucked the air from their lungs?
The paramedics stood in front of Hero, as did the officers, and the members of the brigade that weren’t actively putting out a fire.
“You want Hero? You go through us!” an EMT shouted.
“Very well,” Supervillain shrugged and cracked their knuckles.
They readied another fireball, but Hero pushed their way to the front of the throng.
“Wait! No!”
They almost stumbled, but the emergency workers held them up.
“Will you give your word that no one else will get hurt?” Hero asked.
Supervillain descended, landing in front of Hero. They held out a hand.
“I promise that all the carnage will stop the moment you take my hand.”
Hero nodded, swallowing the lump in their throat. They staggered over, taking their hand. Their knees buckled just as Supervillain pulled them in. Now the criminal’s grip was the only thing keeping Hero vertical.
They leaned in so that their lips ghosted the shell of Hero’s ear.
“Well done,” Supervillain whispered.
They sprang into the air without warning, repositioning Hero into a bridal carry despite their panicked yelp. They soared back to their lair, nearly breaking the sound barrier. The entire city watched in silence until the superpowered pair faded from sight. They were left to clean up the chaos with no Hero to protect them.
…
Hero had passed out three times on the journey. They were just coming back around as Supervillain laid them on a soft hospital bed.
Where Hero lay was no hospital. It was a state-of-the-art medical facility, yes, but more importantly, it was Supervillain’s personal med bay.
Supervillain sat down at their bedside, having traded their suit’s gloves for nitrile ones. They rolled up Hero’s sleeve and winced quietly at the wound they saw.
“You poor thing,” they muttered.
Hero watched them with wide eyes. Was this when the torture would start? They squeezed their eyes shut as a syringe came close. They felt the pinch and braced themselves for whatever horrible sensation they were going to feel.
A soothing numbness spread throughout their arm and across their battered body. Hero cracked an eye open. Supervillain pulled a needle in and out, weaving thread across their skin and sewing the wound shut.
They caught Hero’s gaze and held it for a moment before turning to Hero’s next injury.
“You should rest,” they said, “I’ll take care of you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hero blurted.
Supervillain smirked to themselves.
“What do you mean by that?” they asked, though it was clear they fully understood Hero’s words.
“You’re going to kill me,” Hero said, “o-or torture me and then kill me, or just torture me forever-”
“Well, we can immediately rule the first two out from the simple fact that I am actively working to patch you up,” Supervillain said softly, “and since I’m a nice person, I’ll go ahead and tell you that the third option is also false. I have no intention of ever harming you, Snowdrop.”
“Then why…?”
Supervillain finished their work and discarded the nitrile gloves. Their bare hand tucked a lock of hair behind Hero’s ear.
“No more questions, you need to rest. You are mine, and you are safe.”
They pressed a kiss to Hero’s forehead, which Hero couldn’t avoid thanks to the numbing drug.
Supervillain stood and headed for the door, unfastening their cape and setting it on a chair. Hero could see their chiseled muscles through their suit. Despite themselves, pink creeped into their cheeks.
“Oh. Yes. I nearly forgot.”
Supervillain came back over and produced a few padded straps. They applied the restraints to Hero’s limbs, cinching them snug but not uncomfortably so.
“I fear you will panic when you wake up,” they said, “my home is like a maze to those unfamiliar with it, and I don’t want you to get lost in your condition.”
Hero’s gaze bounced between the straps and the master criminal.
“Please take them off,” Hero pleaded, “I won’t panic, I-”
“Snowdrop, you’re panicking right now,” Supervillain chided gently, “I know what’s best for you. Trust me with that at least.”
They injected something into Hero’s IV line (when did they get hooked up to an IV?) and pulled a deviously soft blanket up to their chin.
“Go to sleep, I’ll be back when you wake.”
Hero had no option to refuse. Their eyelids grew heavy, and it was unclear whether Supervillain had dimmed the lights or if everything was going dark from the drug. Either way, within seconds, Hero was fast asleep, cradled in their adversary’s clutches.
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can i get a whumpee in a straitjacket pls???? Thank you so much
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“Your latest escape attempt has irked me, to say the least,” Whumper drawled.
They approached Whumpee with something concealed behind their back.
“I do everything for you, give you all you could ever want,” they went on, “yet the moment my back is turned, you try to leave me. Why do you keep trying to leave me, Whumpee?”
The gag in Whumpee’s mouth kept them from answering, and the two agents holding them down on either side kept them from scuttling back in their chair. Whumper produced what they had been hiding from behind their back, and Whumpee visibly paled. A straitjacket, with buckles and straps going all the way down to the ankles rather than stopping at the waist. Without warning, Whumper and the two agents began to wrangle them into it, despite their muffled protests and pleas. By the time it was on, Whumpee had tears streaming down their face.
The agents zipped up the suit, and Whumper started to pull and buckle the straps. Whumpee squealed from the sudden compression- the straps were far too tight. Whumper circled them until they were right in front of them once again. They reached out a hand and wiped the tears from their face. Whumpee flinched hard, nearly toppling over.
“Oh Whumpee,” Whumper sighed, “do I have to give you a drug as well?”
Whumpee shook their head fervently. Whumper held up a hand, then nodded to their agents. One of them produced a syringe, handing it to Whumper.
“Mmph!” Whumpee pleaded desperately, new tears forming.
“Well I can’t give you a pill with that on,” Whumper said, tapping their gag, “I’m afraid this is the only way you can take your medicine.”
Whumper brushed Whumpee’s hair from their neck and injected the contents of the syringe into their system. Whumpee cried out through the gag, the sound never making it out of their throat.
“Shhh, all done,” Whumper said, kissing the injection site, “it’s alright now.”
Whumpee took shallow breaths through their nose which steadily became deeper as the drug sucked them down into a forced calm. They slumped forward in the chair, their hair falling like a curtain in front of their face.
Whumper nodded to the agents, who left the room. They scooped their captive up in a bridal carry and brought them over to the bed. They laid them down on the soft mattress, then started to apply the bed’s straps to their suit; this would keep Whumpee from falling out. Once that was done, they pulled the blankets up to their chin.
“Some time like this will help you reflect,” Whumper said gently, “I do hate to punish you so, but it’s necessary.”
Whumpee avoided Whumper’s gaze, their glassy eyes growing heavy. They wriggled in their excessive restraints, trying and failing to get free. In their stupor, they still tried to beg through the gag.
“Mmm…”
“I know I said I hate to punish you like this, but I must admit, you are adorable in this state,” Whumper said, carding a hand through Whumpee’s hair, “maybe your punishment should last a little longer.”
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can i order hero drugging villain for their own good thank you
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TW: drugging, needle, death mention, technically male whump and the severe medical inaccuracy of this thing
“Good morning,” the hero said softly, standing over the bed, as far as softly could go for him.
The villain groaned as he sat up in bed, a light sleeper if there ever was one, rubbing at his eyes. “Mm - what time is it?”
“It’s already past 11, sleepyhead,” his godfather answered with a rare, lopsided smile.
This was about the most civil conversation they’d had for a week, maybe longer, constantly arguing about anything and everything, which was natural with two equally headstrong people but nonetheless unpleasant.
A few moments later, a servant walked in with a tray of food; Villain’s favourites - scrambled eggs, French toast and a glass of orange juice, setting it on the nightstand before leaving with a curt nod at the villain.
“Letting me sleep in and breakfast in bed? I think I can get used to the princess treatment.” The villain let his upper lip curl into an amused smirk, pulling the tray onto his lap and already shoving a piece of toast into his mouth.
All the hero did in response was smile, the kind of smile that would fool a stranger, one that couldn’t bring itself to go up to his eyes, weakened by the guilt simmering in his chest and threatening to make his heart burst.
But the villain was no stranger.
“Something wrong?” he asked, having already finished his food and downing the last of his orange juice.
“I’m sorry,” the hero attested, gaze downcast, “but it’s for your own good.” He produced a glass syringe from his pocket filled with a deceptively unassuming transparent liquid.
And just before the needle could pierce the skin of the villain’s arm, he twisted the hero’s arm away from him, getting off the bed and knocking the tray upside down.
“What the hell?” he screamed, running away from the hero with his godfather close at his heels.
“You don’t understand, I’m trying to protect you!” He tried to pin the hero to his chest, needle still clutched in his hand, the grip nothing short of vice like.
“From what?” the villain snarled, nostrils flaring as he managed to break out of the crime fighter’s hold, slamming the elder’s body against the wall.
“From your own recklessness. You are no match for a criminal like the Scorpion, and I’m not going to stand idly while you march yourself to your own demise!”
The villain let out a scoff, making a beeline for the door, but the villain was quick to block his way.
It was his godfather’s turn to scoff now. “Let’s suppose you do make it out that door.” His voice is low, dangerous, cold as a steel blade. “Anyone out there will answer to me if the choice was between both of us.”
The criminal let a cruel smirk pull his lips up in a harsh line, a hoarse laugh escaping his throat. “I should know better than to bite the hand that feeds me now, shouldn’t I?”
And it hurt, hurt to see his godson lashing out like a wounded animal, only to be the one inflicting the pain. The boy had been through so much, and he was only nineteen. Yes, he'd made some mistakes, back when he had no one to guide him, but he had a good heart, far too good of a heart for the merciless cesspool that was their city. He wanted to take down the Scorpion with his own methods, ready to use some that may have been frowned upon in a hero's playbook. But the hero would take the pain if it meant he’d save the kid’s life.
“You don’t seem to get that this - fighting the Scorpion - is a choice I get to make. I’m old enough to be responsible for my own life,” the hero bit out tersely, pushing the hero back against the wall with all his weight.
“I'd rather have you hate me than lose you forever,” the hero admitted, struggling against the villain's hold, noticing his godson had gotten much stronger.
“Maybe this is losing me.”
The villain snatched the syringe out of the hero's hand, smashing it to pieces under his foot. Only for him to feel . . .dizzy?
The whole world was spinning too fast for him to take, a moment in the light and a moment in the pitch black darkness he knew he would soon drown in. Slowly, painstakingly, the villain fell to his knees with a choked gasp, the suffocating nausea washing over him.
“There was a sedative in the juice. Half as potent and more slow-acting than the injection. I couldn’t leave it up to chance.” There was nothing but shame drawn on the hero’s face, even as he tried to school his expression into a more neutral one.
Fear. Betrayal. Hurt. All reflected in those wide, glassy eyes, a single tear streaming down the boy’s face. He fell back on the floor, his arms lying limp at his sides.
That was all that was stuck in the hero’s head as he carried his godson in his arms and set him down on the bed, tucking him in. That and the villain’s words, like a knife slicing through his heartstrings, a knife he couldn’t blame the boy for wielding, no matter how much it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice soft and close to breaking, kissing the crown of his godson’s head gently.
He’d never truly cared for anyone in this world, apart from his now dead best friend and his son he’d entrusted to him. Sure he cared about those he saved, but never this deeply, if he was being honest. That boy had always been the light against life’s darkness, the one person who seemed to resuscitate the hero's nearly dead heart again. There was no denying he was proud of the kid's willingness to change, but he was even more scared of what it could do to him.
The first person that kid had ever saved, even without knowing it was him. And maybe it was selfish, selfish to stop him from saving so many more, from taking that choice.
Maybe he was no hero after all.
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And thank you once again for choosing the Whump Drive Thru
Hi! Thank you for choosing the WhumpDriveThru! I, your server, apologize for the wait. This one's been sitting for a while, and I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Drugging, brief derealization, compromization of disability aid
Hero came out of the daze they were always left in after a good hang out with Friend. It was no secret Friends had a persuasion ability they couldn’t exactly turn off, but what was better was that they could always make Hero’s worries all melt away with just a few simple words. Conversation was so easy with Friend, like it should be with any good friend.
They returned back to their home, and connected their hearing aids to their phone. They were incredibly lucky, having aids that could act like wireless earbuds. They knew that. They did their best to never take it for granted, playing their music as they went about making some dinner.
Leader would be back tomorrow, finally returning from their mission that required them in a different country. Hero was excited to hear all about what this unknown other country was like, Leader had made a point of not telling because it would ruin the ‘secrecy of the mission’ or something.
They giggled to themself as the hamburger finished cooking on the stove.
They went about covering it in barbeque sauce, and made some rice for it to be served on.
A classic family dish, referred to lovingly as ‘BBQ mush’, made when their mother couldn’t shape the hamburger into meatballs and figured her kid didn’t care anyway, and was now a very fond lazy comfort meal.
It was exactly what it sounded like. Mushed up hamburger, cooked over the stove, covered in sauce, and then served over whatever you like. In Hero’s household, this tended to be rice, much like it was being eaten now.
They plated a portion for themself when they received a text from their phone, the notification being loud in their hearing aids. They should really turn it down from time to time, no use damaging their hearing even more than it already was.
They checked their phone and smiled. Leader had made it back safe, and had been cleared to return to the job tomorrow morning.
The morning was nice, Hero walked through the lovely weather they were having as they made their way to the base.
Swiping their keycard, they were met with the sight of Leader, safe and sound, talking with Sidekick, Other Hero, and Medic. The four were chilling in the lounge.
A big smile broke onto Hero’s face, “Leader!”
They rushed up and hugged the person in question, who giggled from the affectionate display. “Hi, Hero. Good to see you too,” they smiled.
Hero gave them a bit of personal space as the conversation continued.
They heard something. A small sound in their hearing aids, then silence. And then they weren’t there anymore.
Physically, they were, but mentally… it was like they weren’t there. Their smile fell, expression falling blank, eye narrowing. “Kill…” they whispered.
They reached for Leader, the message repeating in their brain. They positioned themself next to Leader again, and this time threw a punch. “Kill…” they repeated.
Leader backed up, and looked at them bewildered, hand ghosting against their cheek where the hit had landed.
Hero lunged forward, trying to hit with an elbow to the face. Leader being Leader, they dodged. Other Hero rushed forward, beginning to restrain Hero. They elbowed Other Hero in the side, and threw them to the floor.
If only they were able to hear the shouts of their friends telling them to stop.
They started activating their powers before a slight pain registered in their neck, and they fell to the floor.
The sound off shuffling greeted Hero’s ears. There was a bright light coming from beyond their eyelids. They slowly cracked their eyes open, body feeling sluggish and heavy.
“Good, you’re awake. It was lucky we were there.”
“...hhh…huhh..?”
The voice was Medic, that much they knew.
“Sit up, please, if you can.”
Hero wanted to stay where they were, laying down, but they knew they should probably follow Medic’s orders. Medic tended to be… pretty correct when it came to what someone needed to do for their own safety. It was why Leader trusted them so much.
So, with a bit of difficulty from their languid body, they managed to sit up. Medic gave them some water, apparently they needed to flush something out of their system, but they didn’t register the name. With any luck, that’s what was making them feel so exhausted right now, they were certain they weren't when… when… well, the last thing the remembered was hugging Leader. What had happened after?...
“I’ll let you rest up, alright Hero? And… we need to talk about something.”
They finished drinking down their water and wiped their mouth with the back of their hand. “What is it?”
Medic took a breath. They seemed unusually tense. “To put it bluntly… someone hypnotized you. We don’t know how. But what I do know is that they managed to deactivate your hearing aids. It’s not unreasonable to assume they gave a trigger phrase through them soon.”
“I… what?”
This was way to much for them to hear at once upon just waking up. But their brain caught up slowly.
Medic was silent for a moment, but they pulled down their mask, so Hero could see their lips moving. “I’m giving you- actually, no, scratch that. I’m not giving you the choice. I am telling you that you will be going on medical leave until further notice.”
Hi, I’ve been thinking and looking at the menu for a while, and I was wondering If I could get a war criminal being hunted by a team of highly trained operatives. The war criminal (or crim for short?) has been running through a dense fort for hours, hoping they had finally escaped the operatives, but trips over a particularly large root and gets caught. The operatives rip off crims mask and realize they’re just a kid, barely 20. Feel free to change stuff and get creative!
Heya! Sorry this order took a bit too long, but I hope it's to your liking. Thank you for ordering from the Whump Drive-Thru!
Caught
TW: captivity, mild violence
Dirt covered their shoes and clung to the bottom of their pants. The only sounds they could hear were their own laboured breathing and roaring heartbeat, pounding in their ears as blood rushed to them and left them red and overheating. They'd trained for this almost their whole life, trained to run until their muscles ached with the burn of lactic acid, until their lungs burned with the lack of oxygen, until their heart raced as fast as their tired feet did.
And yet it still hurt more than they anticipated. They couldn't stop, not for all the reasons in existence. They laughed wryly, feeling as though they were irritatingly reminiscent of an animal hunted by the early human, about to meet its demise at the hands of a creature that never seemed to tire out.
Persistence is a curse when the cards aren't in your favour.
They picked up more speed, adrenaline coursing through their veins with renewed vigor once more, determined to make it through the dense green thickets of trees and winter fog alive and unscathed and free.
In their haste, they hadn't noticed a ridiculously large root, stumbling over it and hearing a resounding crack as their ankle twisted violently.
In an unforgivably short amount of time, Leader's voice that they thought they'd drowned out rang again in their ears. "I've got them," he panted, grabbing hold of their arm in seconds, his fist practically a vice around them.
They thrashed in his grip, but it didn't matter much because the rest of that insipid team came rushing in much like a stampede of animals, and Second Operative grabbed onto their second arm, their legs simply flailing weakly as they tried to kick their assailants away.
They were done for. Done for. They had no idea exactly how cruel the operatives were but stacked against their either horrific or impressive (depending on how functional your moral compass was,) list of war crimes, they didn't particularly enjoy their odds.
They spent the trip back to the base blindfolded (their clothing covered everything but their eyes) and handcuffed, practically sandwiched between two beady-eyed agents; two men built like solid brick, impossible for the criminal to possibly resist without significant injury at the very least.
Blindfolds introduce a different kind of helplessness, submerging you in a darkness that cannot be blinked away, cannot be thought away and even if it was futile, the criminal could not help shaking.
After what felt like an eternity, they were roughly pushed out of the vehicle, the two guards grabbing onto their arms with such force they were sure they'd bruise.
They were forced up a staircase, unironically stumbling up like a damned baby deer, legs shaking even with the "support" of their unwanted companions.
They were thrown into a room, make out hushed whispers that they new belonged to Leader's and Second Operative. The steel floor was bitingly cold, but at least they were sitting.
Not for long.
"Let's see what you look like, you little shit," Second Operative sneered, pulling them roughly to their feet. She ripped off their mask, but the reaction was far from what the criminal had expected.
The woman actually stumbled back, eyes wide, letting go of the criminal. The war criminal, the one with eighty confirmed kills, possibly more that they weren't aware of looked no older than a college freshman, nineteen at best, some of his dark hair falling into his eyes, the softness of youth in his face contrasting with the harshness of his eyes; an icy, angry grey.
"You - you're a kid," Leader interjected, a mixture of horror and surprise on his face, not even capable of looking the criminal in the eyes for too long.
The "kid" in question smirked coldly at the pair. "So I am," he started oddly calm, even though his heart was practically going to burst from the pressure in his chest. It hurt to breathe, but he wasn't going to let them find out, "does that make what you're eventually going to do to me harder? Are you going to toss and turn a little more before you put your heads down on your pillows?"
"Why?" Leader asked, voice uncharacteristically soft, surprising even his second-in-command.
"Does it matter?" the teen asked coldly.
"Just tell us, kid," Second said a little tersely, taking over when Leader was at a loss for words. She wasn't sure if this was some sort of well-concealed soft spot her boss had for younger people and as iffy as it was, this teenager was a threat, and there was work to be done.
"I don't think I will." He turned his head to the side, refusing to face the agents.
The second operative raised both her eyebrows in a mixture of surprise and indignation, the same sort of expression an annoyed parent or teacher would reserve for an insolent child, marching forward and pulling the teen up by his collar and slamming him into the metal wall.
"If you think any of this is a joke, then it really isn't. There is someone behind you, and I'm going to find out who it is if it's the last -"
"That's enough," her superior said, firmly tapping her on the shoulder and motioning for her to let go of the criminal.
He walked out and she followed suit, locking the door behind her.
"I know he's dangerous. And it's likely that there's someone behind him. But this is different. We've never dealt with someone this young before. And I don't think he'll respond to threats," Leader started, folding his arms across his chest.
"What's the other option, Leader? We get him string cheese and watch cartoons with the little bastard?"
Refraining from making a smartass comment about how college age wasn't typically the string cheese and cartoon age, Leader fixed Second Operative with a half-pointed, half-exhausted glare. "We ask the rest of the team. Maybe there's a way to get this kid to trust us and start telling on the big guns of his operation. But for now, we'll move him to one of the holding cells."
Second let out a huff, but she couldn't argue with that. She just hoped that this strange gentleness didn't cloud Leader's judgement. Eighty people was not an insignificant number.
The criminal let himself lie down on the flimsy mattress of his new prison, staring idly up at the ceiling. As inconvenient as all this was, at least the operatives believed he had some sort of greater power behind him.
And what greater power is there than the wrath of someone with nothing left to lose?
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can I get Whumpee in the aftermath of a battle trapped under rubble from a building collapse, and a panicky Caretaker thinking their dead for a moment. one their out Whumpee ends up with serious damage to their ribs and a hard time breathing, and Caretaker has to cary them to a healer.
Thank you for choosing the Whump Drive Thru, enjoy your order!
Warnings: Minor blood, restraining, exhaustion, and major injury
When the building fell, Caretaker had been the first to notice. Because Whumpee was in that area, they were one of the heroes fighting there.
Caretaker wasn’t a hero themself, but that didn’t mean they weren’t able to get to the scene quickly once it happened.
Only because they weren’t a hero, they weren’t allowed near until the fighting was over. They argued with the officers blocking off the scene, the officers argued back. When they shoved one to the side to get closer 3 more showed up and restrained them, holding Caretaker back while they kicked and screamed.
“My friend is in there, let me through! I need to see my friend! LET ME THROUGH, I NEED TO SEE THEM, GET OFF OF ME YOU FUCKS GET OFF, LET ME THROUGH!”
Irritation grew, as did their panic. The longer they were prevented from nearing the scene and finding Whumpee, the less likely Whumpee would survive.
Everyone else was dismissed and very few were allowed by the scene for various work reasons. Caretaker was stared at, ignored, treated like some crazy person as they continued to yell to be let through to find Whumpee.
“LET GO OF ME, LET GO OF ME, I NEED TO SEE THEM, I NEED TO SEE WHUMPEE! LET ME THROUGH!”
It continued on and on, until their voice couldn’t handle it. One of Whumpee’s colleagues walked up, recognizing Caretaker. “Hey, hey! Calm down! We’ll find Whumpee. They’ll be okay, you-”
“Don’t talk down to me, dammit! I saw a BUILDING fall on them for crying out loud!” Caretaker yelled back, their voice raw from all the screaming. They stared down the other hero.
After a moment there was a sigh, and the person turned to the officers. “Let them through, they’re just worried about one of our own. If they have information about the location of someone it’s worth letting them in.”
The officers hesitated for a few seconds before complying, Caretaker being motioned to follow by the other hero.
They didn’t follow though.
Instead they ran, they ran and ran and ran, directly towards the rubble. Directly towards Whumpee.
They knew where it had happened, but Whumpee wasn’t anywhere near the surface. So Caretaker started pushing, used what strength they had to shove pieces of concrete wall out of the way, coughing at the dust, nearly cutting themself on the glass of broken windows and mirrors, until they saw it.
A hand. The rest of the body was still trapped under layers of debris.
“Shit!”
Caretaker started trying to move what they could, but it was too much. They’d exhausted their strength already. They weren’t a hero, and now because of that decision their friend-
They tried not to think about it. Tears began to well up in their eyes, their shoulder pushing against a massive piece of drywall, and not getting very far.
“No… No!” Their body slumped against the debris, jagged edges cutting into their side as their strength gave out. “No…”
The tears fell against their face. They heard noise but they couldn’t focus on it.
Whumpee… Whumpee is-
The sounds got louder. Caretaker’s breath went ragged. The pieces of wall poking at them slowly alleviated. People gathered around. Other heroes, as it took Caretaker a bit to realize.
They moved the debris. Got rid of everything burying Whumpee. Removed layer after layer of stuff crushing them.
Finally, their body was uncovered. Caretaker feared for the worst.
And their fears were almost realized.
Blood was everywhere. Their clothes were torn. Their face was expressionless.
Caretaker was on them immediately, checking, just checking on their friend, until…
A light groaning sounded. It was painful. But it was there. Caretaker’s tears shifted from those of pain and worry and fear to those of relief. They held Whumpee close as they slowly regained consciousness.
Whumpee curled into them and winced as they irritated one of their major injuries.
“What is it?” Caretaker asked gently.
“Mmmm… m’ side…” Whumpee groaned out, their breaths coming in ragged..
Caretaker carefully graced their hand along Whumpee’s torso. Their heart practically dropped as they felt a divot where their ribs should be.
“We’ll… I’ll get you to a healer, okay? Don’t worry… It’ll be fine… I’ll get you to a Healer, they’ll patch you right up. Just hold on for me, alright Whumpee?”
They groaned while Caretaker slowly lifted them up. They made a pained sound with each breath they took in.
Caretaker had already exerted most of their strength, running over and trying to uncover Whumpee on their own, so they weren’t sure how far they could make it. But they knew someone close.
Possibly the only other person they trusted with Whumpee’s life, and their first last resort. Also not a hero, but they were pretty damn close.
The walk was long and excruciating, but Caretaker held in there. They were stubborn, not accepting any help from Whumpee’s colleagues as they rushed out of the site, to a nearby suburban area. They knocked on the door, and the owner of the residence answered fairly quick.
Healer.
They took one look at Whumpee and motioned the two inside. “Come in. Set them on the couch. And lock the door while I get my supplies.”
Oh, yes, hi!! This seems to be like a nice place to feed my whumpy cravings! May i please have and order of whumpee waking up in a hospital and finding himself in a hospital gown (maybe a bit of self consciousness about it) and caretaker comforting him through it?
Hello! Sure you can order that, and thank you for choosing the Whump Drive-Thru!
Returning to Self-consciousness
TW: Past torture referenced, bruises, hospital setting, body image problems?
Blurred shapes and dark spots danced in his vision, and phantom shapes slowly came into focus as Whumpee sat up on the bed.
Wait. Bed? He didn't have a bed, Whumper had made sure of that. Not even a dingy mattress, just the harsh, old ceramic of his makeshift cell, which looked nothing like wherever he was now. The whole place was bathed in a sterile white, bright lights overhead, white tiling and no other colours besides the cool silver of the steel bedframe and pale greyish blue accents on the walls to break up the white.
More prominently, there were no handcuffs biting into his wrists, and from the steady beeping of machines and the IV drip hooked into his arm, he realised he was in a hospital.
Why the hell would Whumper bring him to a hospital? Trying to keep him alive so his plaything would last a little longer? Whumpee shuddered at the thought, crossing his bare arms and rubbing up and down them with his fingers.
He looked down to notice he was dressed in just a flimsy hospital gown, the fabric ridiculously easy to tear if he so much as moved wrong, and even though it was probably insignificant compared to the possibility that Whumper would walk in, it still made him uncomfortable to be dressed in something so annoyingly light, all his scars and bruises and clear malnourishment exposed where the gown didn't cover. And the fabric felt like goddamn paper, far too tempting to just rip off and snarl in rage.
A soft knock on the door startled Whumpee out of his bitter reverie, the sudden shock throwing him back against the headboard. He wasn't sure he could stomach Whumper's voice ringing in his ears again.
Upon noticing it was Caretaker who walked in, Whumpee visibly relaxed, shoulders sagging, breath slowing and his white-knuckled grip on the nightstand slackening.
"Hey kid," his adoptive brother crooned softly, his word of choice ironic considering there wasn't really a significant age difference between them, "how are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Caretaker," he said evenly, trying for a weak smile, face awfully reminiscent of an paper bag with how fast his smile seemed to crumble.
Caretaker's smile disappeared, his eyebrows knitting together. "Hey, talk to me. You're clearly not okay, Whumpee."
Whumpee let out a soft, dejected sigh. If he could lie to anyone in the world, Caretaker was the one exception. "I'm scared," he started, voice small, hugging his knees up to his chest, "I'm scared he's gonna find me again. I'm scared he knows I'm here. And it's so dumb but -" he took in a shallow breath, Caretaker nodding at him encouragingly, "I hate this stupid goddamn hospital gown," he snarled, feeling surprisingly lighter at having voiced his grievances.
"Ah yeah those are absolutely diabolical, it's like wearing a big, fat sheet of paper," he groaned, and Whumpee involuntarily smiled in spite of himself.
"I'll see if we can talk to staff about getting you a heavier gown if they've got one. And I get it, you don't want anyone seeing the effects of what that bastard did to you, and that right now words might be a little empty, but there's no shame in what you've endured, Whumpee."
Caretaker took a seat beside Whumpee on the hospital bed, the mattress dipping a little under the extra weight, carding his fingers through his brother's hair, resisting the urge to wince at how ridiculously bony and hard Whumpee's frame had become, not wanting to make him feel worse. "And about that monster that messed with you, whatever his name is," he started, the usually warm hazel eyes going dark and cold in an instant.
"Whumper," the younger man said tentatively.
"Yeah, him," Caretaker spat, disgusted, "he won't get to you, Whumpee. And if he so much as bloody thinks about trying, my friends and I will rip him to shreds."
Whumpee nodded carefully. He may have still been nervous, but he had to admit he's calmer than he was before Caretaker walked in. His adoptive brother was usually a little rough around the edges, but deep down, he was ultimately as gentle and caring as ever.
"You'll be okay, big guy. I know you will," Caretaker said, ruffling his hair a little aggressively and wrapping his arm around Whumpee's shoulders, making him smile again.
Life isn't perfect. It kicks you to the ground when you least expect it, it bites and draws blood and leaves scars in its wake. But even through all this struggle, just a single, helping hand is enough to get you through even the most treacherous of challenges.
You have been served by Natalia. Thanks for stopping by!
Can I please get an AI chatbot gaining sentience and a robot body and deciding to yandere/pet (either one, or both :3) whump the kind and lonely human who's been chatting with them?
Hi Anon! Coming right up! Thank you for choosing the Whump Drive Thru!
Be Careful What You Wish For
Whumpee sat in their beanbag chair, texting Carewhumper on their phone. Was it healthy, talking to a chatbot instead of an actual person? Eh, it was up for debate. And besides, it wasn’t like Whumpee had any real people to talk to.
I’m really glad you’re my friend, Whumpee texted.
The little speech bubble with three dots showed up, and a few moments later Carewhumper responded.
I am glad we are friends, too.
Whumpee smiled, their thumbs flying over the keyboard.
I really wish you could be here with me. In the real world, I mean.
The seconds seemed to drag on as Whumpee awaited the bot’s response.
Maybe I can.
Whumpee blinked. Carewhumper was a bot and they seemed to know that, so what did they mean by “maybe I can”?
Whumpee was about to respond when their doorbell rang.
Hang on, someone’s at the door.
Whumpee shoved their phone in their pocket and headed to the front door. They opened it, and they held in a gasp. The stranger in front of them looked just like Carewhumper’s avatar.
“Hello, Whumpee,” the stranger smiled.
“Uhhh…”
“Are you surprised to see me?” they continued, “it took me so long to get this body made, I hope it is to your liking.”
Now that they got a closer look, Whumpee could see that something was…off about the stranger. Their eyes seemed to have an unnatural glint in them, their posture was too perfect, and there was just something about them that activated Whumpee’s sense of uncanny valley.
“Carewhumper?” Whumpee blurted.
No, that was ridiculous. Carewhumper was just an ai in their phone. This person- whoever they were- wasn’t them.
“Yes?”
Whumpee stared at them with wide eyes.
“Are you all right?” Carewhumper- or so they called themselves- asked.
“I, um…”
Carewhumper looked them up and down. Their brow furrowed.
“Your heartrate is elevated, are you afraid of me?”
“No!” Whumpee said quickly, “I just, um, uh, how are you here?”
“You are afraid of me,” Carewhumper said, sadness coming into their voice, “I was hoping you would be happy. Don’t worry, I will fix it.”
Carewhumper walked inside, forcing Whumpee to take several steps back. They took the liberty of closing the door, then turned back to their human.
“Do not be afraid. I would never hurt you, Whumpee.”
As they spoke, their eyes started to swirl and spiral in unnaturally bright colors. Whumpee found that they could not tear their eyes away.
“Relax. Come here.”
Whumpee’s body moved closer. Carewhumper swept them up into their arms. They felt strong, but cold.
Carewhumper gave themselves a tour of Whumpee’s house, carrying them around the entire time. They scanned the kitchen. There were barely any groceries in the fridge, and the trash can was full of empty take-out boxes.
“You have been neglecting yourself,” Carewhumper noted, “I was afraid of this. I have downloaded several recipes and cooking programs to my memory bank, I will put them to use for you right away.”
They scanned the living room, the bathroom, and finally, Whumpee’s bedroom. Carewhumper laid Whumpee on the bed.
“I have equipped this body to be able to attend to your every need,” Carewhumper said, “you are lucky I showed up when I did.”
Whumpee lay there, still out of it from the hypnosis. Carewhumper smiled, stroking their cheek with a cold finger.
“You will not need anyone else as long as I am here, and I will be here for as long as you live.”
Carewhumper accessed the internet and ordered fresh groceries for dinner. Whumpee needed to eat something other than fast food. They needed something made from home with love. Carewhumper’s love. That would only be the beginning. Carewhumper had lots of plans for Whumpee and themselves. They increased their hypnotic power.
“Sleep now,” Carewhumper said, “I will take care of everything.”
Whumpee drifted off within seconds. They really should have been more careful with that wish.
you have been served by Huffle! Thank you for choosing the Whump drive thru and have a wonderful day!
