#Multiple caretakers

[whumpster-dumpster]

A typically absent parent finally being around to help when the whumpee's sick/hurt, quietly (or not so quietly) growing to resent the fact that Caretaker seems to know their kid better than they do

[jordanstrophe]

Two caretakers: One cares for whumpee’s mental well-being, and the other their physical well-being.  

The physical caretaker isn’t the greatest comforter. In fact they tend to awaken the other caretaker in the dead of night pleading “Help whumpee is crying and I don’t know what to do.” While the other shakes their head and zip off to find them.

[whump-about-it]

Currently obsessing with the idea of a Whumpee who is recovering from hypothermia waking up cuddled between two of their friends.

They don’t really remember what happened and they feel like death barely warmed over. But the bed is so warm and they feel so safe in their friends’ arms that even half conscious with a budding fever, they know that even after everything they just went through, they are going to be okay.

[written-by-jayy]

Prompt #5

Masterlist

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Small whumpee getting rescued by a team of people.

At first no one can find whumpee. Until they break open a locked cupboard.

Do they find whumpee calmly and curiously looking at them, relatively unbothered? Do they find feral whumpee immediately attacking them? Do they find a shaking, sobbing, and severely injured whumpee begging for mercy? Are there other options?

That’s the whole prompt. Just something that was on my mind that I wanted to release out into the world. That’s all. :D

[anxiouscaretaker]

when the youngest team member is sick or injured enough to be bedridden and the rest of the team is Extremely Protective over them as they recover. bonus points if youngest isn't quite used to this kind of care and gets emotional about it. double bonus if the team hadn't seemed to care much about them before either

[snares-and-tears]

Whumpee has been rescued by a group of Caretakers after being imprisoned for so long. Whumpee is glad to be free of Whumper's torment, but after weeks of torture and being told they don't matter, Whumpee genuinely believes that the Caretakers don't actually care about them, and only saved them for some other ulterior motive. Or maybe they all think they’re weak for being captured in the first place, and they all talk shit about Whumpee behind their back whenever their wounds aren’t being treated.

One day, Whumpee can’t take it anymore, and they decide to listen in on one of their conversations to see what the Caretakers really think of them. They stand by the door, trembling in pain on their still-healing legs, and try to pick up on what everyone’s saying. What they hear surprises them beyond belief.

The Caretakers aren’t saying bad things about Whumpee at all. Instead, they’re all expressing how worried they are. They discuss what they can do to treat their wounds, how they can earn Whumpees trust, and how strong Whumpee is to have survived at the hands of Whumper.

Whumpee is stunned. They never expected this outcome at all. These people genuinely care for someone like them? It didn’t seem possible, but they know what they heard, and they have no choice but to believe it.

The next few days, Whumpee slowly begins to open up to the Caretakers, knowing that they all want to help them out of the kindness of their own hearts.

[echoingalaxies]

Whumpee doesn't have any family or friends in real life, but they do have a few very close internet friends. They're Whumpee's lifeline and that's why Whumpee spends all their time online.

One day Whumpee stops responding, and after a few days has passed, the internet friends gather together, first online and eventually in real life, trying to figure out what happened to Whumpee, who has seemingly just disappeared. They're not all friends with each other, and some of them might even have a complicated relationship, but they all love Whumpee and are willing to work through their disagreements to find their friend.

[redd956]

Mini Whump Prompt 137

Caretaker is just about to meet Whumper's Caretaker

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Whump Prompts: Recovery + Bathing

Content: Multiple caretakers, multiple whumpees, vampire whumpee, tail whump, [non-sexual] nudity, begging, recovery, PTSD/trauma.

Whumpee quietly begging Caretaker to stay with them while they bathe because they're too scared of being alone.

Caretaker cupping Whumpee's face in their wet hands and gently washing the dirt and grime off their face.

Two whumpees bathing together and gently washing each other to make sure they get every spot because their bodies are so sore that they can't do it by themselves.

Whumpee starts to cry as they lower themself/Caretaker lowers them into the tub because they're it's so warm and so nice on their beaten skin.

Perhaps a vampire whumpee who has been put in the sun to burn more times than they can count, taking a cold/lukewarm bath instead and enjoying it just as much.

Two whumpees fighting over who gets the first go in the bath.

A whumpee with a long, fluffy tail finally getting to wash it for the first time in months. It's so matted and filled with dirt, Caretaker can't even begin to imagine how much discomfort it must have brought them. Bonus points if Caretaker helps to carefully cut the clumps off and brush it out after the wash.

Caretaker sitting outside the door of the bathroom and talking to Whumpee as they bathe.

Caretaker gently waking Whumpee up every couple of minutes because they've dozed off in the tub again.

Whumpee trying to convince Caretaker to get into the tub with them because they just wanna feel warm and protected. Major bonus points if it's between two best friends instead of a romantic couple.

Two caretakers helping one whumpee bathe. Whumpee has never felt so comforted and taken care of, and they let their head come to rest on one of Caretaker's legs while the two work at gently cleaning them.

The two of them falling asleep in the tub together. By the time they wake up again their fingers are all pruned and the water is murky and cold, but Whumpee hasn't looked so peaceful in months.

Caretaker lifting Whumpee out of the tub and drying them off before tucking them into bed because they're too weak and tired to walk on their own or they've fallen asleep.

Perhaps Whumpee has been waterboarded/drowned/etc. before and it's a huge hassle even getting them into the tub because they're convinced something is going to hurt them again.

That feeling as Whumpee's muscles begin to relax and they let out a pleasurable little moan because it feels so unbelievably good...

Whumpee refusing to get into the bath naked after getting to cover themselves up for the first time. Caretaker ends up giving them a swimsuit of some kind to make sure they don't end up wearing their favourite sweater and pants to do it.

[whumpasaurus101]

hii! oml i'm like in love with ur writing ajsksemnsns

i was wondering if i could request something? i really wanna see 2 yandere, sadistic, villain whumpers x a hero whumpee ?? maybe a scene where their trying to lure hero in "going home" with them? thank you !! ^^

OHMYGOSH YOU ARE LITERALY THE SWEETEST STOP TYSMMM WAAAA <<33

Okay ik i say this with every piece BUT IMMA BE HONEST i am not happy with this and i am SOOOO sorry if this is not what you were asking of. DONT BE SHY TO BAP ME AND TELL ME IF YOU WNTED SMTHN ELSE HDUIHD BUT HAVE SOME WORDS WOOO (i am also so sorry its so short, it just kinda stopped where it gave the vibes it stopped? YK? HUIDHKHDHH)

---

“Leaving so soon?” Villain cooed, their eyes boring into Hero as they froze. 

“They…they won…SuperVillain won..” Hero mumbled, “I’m keeping my end of the deal, I’ll lay off your territory.” Their hand wrapped around their side as the familiar dull ache crawling along their ribs sent electric bolts sparking from pain, “Co-congrats.”

Hero was soon stopped as Villain 2 stepped right in front of them. They jumped, “Whe-when did you get here?”

Villain 2 smirked before cupping Hero’s cheek, brushing their thumb along Hero’s bruised cheekbone, “The least we could do is patch you up, hm?” Hero gulped, wincing slightly from the slight tingle of pain, “I…I just want to go home, I’m really tired,” Hero practically whimpered, jesus they were weak.

Villain 2 pouted, tilting their head gently. “Come home with us,” Villain smirked, “We’ll take care of you, baby-” Hero jumped but relaxed into Villain’s hand as it gently played with their hair, “-No one else will lay a hand on you” They whispered, a fire of jealousy roaring in their chest.

Villain 2 gently moved their thumb, feeling the soft, bloodied skin , “You’re such a pretty little thing…”

Hero’s brain was full of incoherent thoughts layered one on top of each other. They were so confused. Villains were bad, they were bad but… but after getting so hurt, all they wanted was comfort. Without these two Villain’s, they would be going back to their apartment, cook up some food and just go to bed. Alone. Nobody who could just… hold them

They gulped as a tear slowly made its way down their face, “I-I’m sorry-” Their throat felt tight from holding in all this feeling. “I’m sorry I’m so weak-” Villain quickly caught them as they fell, collapsing into sobs. Villain 2 clenched their jaw and glared up at Villain, “I’m going to fucking kill SuperVillain.”

Villain nodded, their fingers carding through Hero’s curls, “Absolutely. But we need to look after our priorities. Once they’re home with us and patched up, SuperVillain’s dead meat.”

They gently turned Hero so they lay on their back against Villain. They tucked a curl behind their ear and smiled, “Don't worry, doll, we’ll protect you. All you need is us. No one else.” Villain reached for their pocket and slid the gun across the ground, nodding at Villain 2 who took it and pocketed it before walking off.

Hero whimpered at the loss of a person but the gentle touch on their chest relaxed them, “Heyheyhey, it's alright, they’ve just gone to the shop quickly, need to get you all strengthened up, you're safe with me, I promise SuperVillain will never hurt you ever again.” They felt something tug at their chest. Hero needed them. The two villain’s are the one and only things Hero ever needed, “Never.”

[whumpster-dumpster]

Whumpees who are each other's caretaker, both hiding an illness/injury to take care of the other because they're both stupidly self sacrificial 😅

[epiclamer]

Whumpees taking care of each other anyone?

Spiteful

Justice. Something Hero fought to bring to their city streets every day, but couldn’t care to fight to earn it for themselves.

They had been used and abused and worked until their legs gave out. They fought tooth and nail for their pay check twice a month just to receive the measliest dollars the agency had to give. They sat in the shower until the water ran cold, trying to wash the blood from their uniform, unsure of whom it belonged to.

Always giving; people drained them dry. Left for dead in abandoned alleyways or stripped of everything they had for performance reasons. It didn’t matter. They were reduced to a shell of a human being after it all. A shell that worked all day and sat empty all night. Every time they closed their eyes they saw flashes of everything again and again and again.

Reliving everything at night was worse than mulling it over every morning. At least they could tear themselves from the flashbacks if they were awake, nightmares weren’t kind enough to allow one that option.

A knock on the door sounded to their left, it barely registered through the fog that clouded the hero’s mind. They couldn’t bother to get up. It was probably a solicitor. Odd at this hour, but not impossible.

When it sounded again, slightly more urgent, Hero’s numbness was overcome by pure rage. They were angry. They were furious. They couldn’t explain why. But they were.

They shot up from their seat on the couch, storming over to their front door and ripping it open, sending the figure on the other side tumbling back. One millisecond away from shouting in their face when they recognized the terrified face at their feet.

Villain.

Hero didn’t have to think twice before they put their full force into aiming to slam the door on the other. Villains foot catching it with just a sliver of room left as they winced, feeling the wood bash into their ankle. For a moment they looked hopeful, like they had caught the break of a century, but the hero was not so easily deterred, and in their fit they slammed the door over and over and over again until the villain retreated their foot in pain.

Finally, the door clicked into its frame with a bang and Hero slipped the lock shut. Turning their back to their enemy and heading back to their seat on the couch.

Yet their rest didn’t last much longer than a minute. Their dissociative state interrupted by the villain crashing in through the window.

Their first instinct was to kill the villain. However, the moment the thought reached their rational brain they almost threw up.

It was only a confirmation that they were falling apart. That sooner than later they’d lose everything to a plea of insanity and they’d die. The agency couldn’t keep someone as valuable as a hero out on the streets with precious information, they were a loose end.

Heroes weren’t allowed to retire. They bowed their head to a bullet before they ever got the chance to be free.

Maybe that’s what was wrong with them. Maybe Hero was too aware of the agency watching their every move. Keeping track of their vitals, forcing them to take lie detector tests, controlling their income, monitoring their diet. Maybe the stress was killing them from the inside out.

“I didn’t… didn’t know where-else to go—” Villain cutoff with a pained breath. Clutching their stomach with a vice-like grip in one hand and their ankle in the other.

The hero’s demeanour stayed numb, not angry any longer just a husk of their former self once more. Standing to their full height, Hero approached the villain on the floor. Taking note of the blood on their costume and coating their hands, they watched a glimpse of their past cloud their vision and suddenly felt sick.

They didn’t kneel down, they didn’t inspect or rush to care for the villain, they didn’t and they wouldn’t. “The day you betrayed me you gave up all rights to ever being allowed near me again. Let alone in a friendly manner like whatever the fuck you think this is.”

Villain gasped, their pain seeming less and less manageable by the minute. Hero stayed unbothered, not even the tone in their voice strayed an octave. “Y-You shut me out…”

“I shut you out because you broke my trust. Tell me, Villain, why would I ever let you in?”

“I-I don’t need a fucking l-lecture.” The criminal hissed, clenching their jaw to bite their tongue. “I’m a villain, i-it’s what I do.”

Hero’s attention strayed from the conversation, head filing through first-aid reciprocals as they walked casually towards their kitchen. Opening the top right cupboard and pulling out the medical kit before turning back—almost robotically—and dropping it by the villain’s side.

They snatched it up faster than the speed of light, taking their advantage while the hero was friendly enough to offer it. They weren’t going to test their luck at seeing how long until the other would pry it back from their hands, dangling it above their head while they struggled to stay alive. Villain shivered, they wouldn’t push it, they needed the help.

Swallowing the lump in their throat as their shaky hands peeled back the layers of their suit to reach the wound, Villains eyes watched their enemy intently. The way their eyes were blank, their movements heavy and accounted for, head lulled slightly forwards as well as a hunch in their spine as they sat back down on the couch.

“You look l-like shit.”

The crime-stopper didn’t react. Villain wasn’t even sure if they had been heard.

Speeding through the rest of their stitches and patchwork, once Villain was semi-sure they wouldn’t rip and their bandages would hold, they stood up. Making sure to avoid any pressure on their bad ankle as they hobbled to the hero’s kitchen with the open first-aid kit.

They zipped the bag closed after they had shoved everything inside and dumped it under the sink. Hero would find it if they needed it, just might take them a second or two.

It only took a brief once over of the hero’s food supply for the villain to pull out their phone, dialling the nearest take-out place they could find. “I’m ordering pizza.”

“That’s not agency approved for my diet—” Villain was practically relieved at the provoked reaction from their nemesis.

Still alive. Barely.

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m buying pizza and you’re going to eat it.” Stepping over to the couch they placed their phone on the back of it, balancing the screen on the plush pillows. Their—now free—hands made their way to the Hero’s shoulders, gently and carefully kneading at the muscles. “And you’re going to be grateful and pretend to like it no matter what, understood?”

Hero couldn’t repress the way their mouth watered or their stomach grumbled at the thought. “I hate you.”

And the line finally picked up.

[jordanstrophe]

SO I'm thinking 2 caretakers fighting? Whumpee gets scared and hides. Caretaker finds them and..idk just sounds cool

What's ironic is this has been waiting in my drafts for a few months now. It's disturbingly perfect, so here you go! And if I'm feeling cute I'll add the caretaker bit

----

Whumpee has not one, but two overbearing caretakers arguing over them. In the heat of the moment, none of them realized that whumpee had walked in and heard everything.

Before either of them can backtrack, whumpee's on the verge of tears, bolting from the room before one falls.

[i-eat-worlds]

Stab O’clock

Phoenix gets stabbed, whump ensues.

Thanks to @snaillamp and @whumpy-daydreams for helping with the medical stuff in this! Aaron and Phoenix belong to @pigeonwhumps

cw: medical whump, dubcon medical care, past medical abuse, graphic depiction of medical procedures (tube thoracostomy), needles, blood, implied current abuse, fear of punishment, wound fingering, immortal whumpee, wishing for death, past death, comfort believe it or not

“Firebird!”

Phoenix rolled away from the voice calling their name, trying to drag themselves deeper into the alleyway. If they were discovered like this, it wouldn’t end well. You couldn’t fight if you could barely breathe.

“Firebird!”

A black, blue, and orange uniformed hero rounded the corner, and Phoenix shrunk back further. Absurdly, they wished they could bleed out and die quicker, so they could heal. Being found like this was sure to end badly. Injured heroes were useless heroes, and useless heroes got punished. The hero called out for them again, moving towards the alley way.

They held their breath, hoping the hero would walk by and ignore them.

They didn’t.

Instead, the hero turned into the alley, dropping to their knees in front of them. He mumbled something into his coms before he looked at them. “Hey Firebird, I’m Exhale, I’m a medic.” He gestured to the patch on his left arm. “I’m here to help you, yeah?”

Medics? Who had sent medics out for them? That was a gross waste of resources. Phoenix shook their head. “ ‘m immortal.”

Talking was hard. Every word stole precious, precious air that was getting harder to take in by the second.

Exhale nodded. “Good to know, thanks for telling me.” He quickly located the wound on their chest and started quickly cutting the fabric away.

“No, ‘m immortal.” Phoenix whispered, pushing his hands away. “You don’ need to do that.”

“Not how that works. Let me help.” Exhale pressed a clear, sticky bandage over their chest. It was clear he wasn’t planning on arguing.

His hands wrapped around them, checking their backside for another wound. “ ‘m sorry,” they wheezed.

“It’s alright.” His hands pulled away. “I need you to lay down. I’ll help, yeah?” Phoenix let him gently set them down on the ground. This moved them out of the shadows, casting streetlight over their upper body.

Their chest still felt heavy and tight, even though the weird bandages he’d put on helped a little bit. It did nothing for the pain, every movement of their rib cage extending the burning ache. In the distance, they could hear sirens. Stupidly, Phoenix wondered if the sirens were for them.

That was silly, though. Why would they need an ambulance? It wasn’t like they were going to die.

“I’m gonna need to decompress your chest,” he said. He was holding something in his gloved hand, but Phoenix couldn’t really see what it was. “It’ll probably hurt, but it’ll also make it easier to breathe.”

They whimpered as Exhale pressed his fingers next to their sternum, only a few inches away from the wound, then slid them across their chest. In the corner of their vision, they saw light glint of of a very long needle.

They didn’t have time to really process what it was until after it was driven through their chest.

Shocked, they gasped, breathing hitching and head popping off the ground. Exhale didn’t seem so surprised, pressing his hand onto their shoulder to keep them from moving too much. “You’re alright, you’re going great.”

It certainly didn’t feel like that.

“The ambulance is on its way, they’re a few minutes out.” For some reason, he was still gently squeezing their shoulder. It wasn’t that they minded, it was just odd.

It was easy to tell that the ambulance was coming, sirens screaming through the night. Phoenix closed their eyes to try and get away from bright flashing lights as it parked. It was so easy to keep them like that.

“Phoenix, can you open your eyes for me?” He shook their shoulder a bit, but when they didn’t respond, he switched to grinding his knuckles into their sternum.

Their eyes popped open, and they raised the arm on their uninjured side to try and push his hand away. “I need you to try and stay awake, for me, yeah?”

The ambulance ride passed in a blur. So much was going on. While Exhale was starting an IV, another paramedic was attaching them to a monitor. An oxygen mask was looped over their face and then they were covered by a blanket. They felt a strange coolth running up their arm, and they realized that they’d been given painkillers.

It was too much, really. All the care and attention would've been better spent on someone who wouldn’t live anyway. The thought of having to pay for this made them nauseous. Hopefully Kai will believe that they tried to say no, because Abbie wouldn’t care.

Phoenix heard the arrival alarm go off as they were rolled into HAL’s medbay. Aaron, along with a cache of other nurses met them by the door. They clumped around the stretcher, and Exhale started rattling off a long list of words and numbers that they didn’t understand at Aaron.

“ ‘m sorry,” they mumbled to them, but he was too busy talking to hear them. “I promise ‘m sorry, sir.”

Nobody responded. Of course they didn’t. They were being annoying, and they needed to shut up.

“Three, two, one, lift!” Somebody called, and they were hoisted off the stretcher and set back down on the table. The movement caused pain to flare in their chest, and they groaned loudly. The assault of hands returned as they were attached to the medbay’s monitor, nurses swarming around them.

“You with me, Phoenix?” Aaron was standing at their head. His face looked weird upside down.

They nodded, feeling the tears starting to build. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” Aaron’s eyes flickered up, watching as their blood pressure cycled. “We’re gonna take an x-ray, okay. Just lie still for us.”

Someone pulled an x-ray machine over the bed, and Aaron backed away. There was an awkward moment of quiet as the machine hummed and wirred, and then everyone briey stared at the radiograph that Phoenix could neither see nor interpret. Aaron rattled o a list of stuff he needed done, and the room descended back into organized chaos.

“I’m gonna need to place a chest tube. You’ve got blood in your chest, so we're going to put a tube in and drain it out so you can breathe better,” he explained as he rubbed cleaning gel on his hands.

Phoenix swallowed nervously, giving up on holding back tears. They could feel the pain of the scalpel slicing through their chest, of cold metal pushing their ribs apart, of hands digging around inside them as they died and resurrected and died again.

“You’re lucky someone is willing to help you at all. You know you don’t deserve it.”

A nurse pulled the blanket all the way to their belly button, revealing the myriad scars that covered their body. Burns, several GSWs, an old wound from a spear, and the long, thick, almost keloid scar from the thoracotomy.

“If you stopped fucking moving I wouldn’t need to paralyze you. It’s not like you need to breathe.”

Their attention was drawn by Aaron’s voice. “Phoenix, I need you to keep breathing for me. In and out, in and out.” He looped a mask around his face, then plunged his arms into the sleeves of a waiting gown. While he spoke, the nurse wiped the skin around their chest and up their arm with a stinky orange solution.

“Please, ‘m sorry, sir,” they gasped. The monitors screeched as their heart rate spiked. “I promise, sir, ‘m sorry for getting hurt.”

Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not mad at you for getting hurt, Phoenix. I’ll never be.” Cold flared in their arms, but they were too scared to recognize it as pain medication. Latex snapped as he donned a pair of sterile gloves.

The squelching of viscera echoed in their brain.

“If you don’t stop screaming I’m going to cut it. I can literally see your aorta. Don’t test me.”

He started to unfold a drape on their chest, looking up at a nurse on the other side of the table. “Can you get Joseph in here? They need more support than I can provide while I’m doing this.”

Phoenix whimpered, tears rolling down freely down their cheeks. They’d known that Aaron’s kindness wouldn’t last forever, that it was too good to be true, but it still hurt. And Joseph as well? Was he going to hold them down while Aaron cut them open? Or would they just slit their throat and be done with it?

“I told you I wasn’t fucking around. You could’ve prevented this if you would’ve just kept still.”

“I‘m sorry, please, I promise, I’m sorry, sir.” They tried again, desperately. “I didn’t mean to get hurt. I know I don’t deserve it, sir. I know. I promise, sir, I know.”

They gasped for air, hand clawing at the tide of the table.

“Can someone gag them please? I don’t want to hear them breathing like that. It’s annoying.”

Joseph appeared in the entryway to the room, quickly crossing on the side away from Aaron. He was wearing his full INSUPA uniform, med patches and all, same second in command stripes as the person in the alley had. Was Joseph Exhale?

It didn’t really matter now. He was going to hurt them anyway.

“Can someone hold them down? They move too much when they resurrect.”

“Hey Phoenix, can you look at me?” He was smiling at them, but he still looked terrifying.

They tore their eyes from the needle in Aaron’s hand to look at him. “That’s good. Eyes on me, eyes on me.”

“Don’t look at me like that. You know it's your own fault.”

Joseph kept talking to them, voice low and calm. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?” They nodded, knowing their answer didn’t really matter anyway.

“We’re gonna take care of you. I know it’s scary.” His hands were calloused and hard, and he gently started to massage the top of their hand with his thumb.

Why hadn’t he killed them yet? What was he waiting for?

“Stop crying. It’s distracting me.”

Aaron touched their chest. Fear exploded in their gut, along with boiling waves of nausea. Even though they knew they’d come back, they didn’t want to die.

“Aaron’s starting the local now.” Joseph said, squeezing their hand a little.

“I don’t care that it hurts. Just keep still.”

The needle punctured their skin, and they did their best to not wiggle away. There was an acidic burn in their chest as the medication took hold.

“I know it burns, but it’s nearly over,” Aaron said, grabbing another syringe. “That’s the first round of local anesthetic in, you’re doing great.”

Joseph smiled at them again, and Phoenix wondered what the point of the medication was. Weren’t anesthetics supposed to make things hurt less? That couldn’t be right.

They were supposed to be dying.

“Pain meds? That would be wasted on you. I don’t think it’d even work.”

Aaron swamped out the syringe for a scalpel, and their eyes went wide with fear. This was how he was going to kill them then.

“Eyes on me, remember?” Joseph’s voice was commanding, and their eyes snapped back to his face.

“I’m sorry sir,” they said, voice filled with fear.

“I didn’t know you were too stupid to follow even simple instructions. Stop. Squirming.”

They prepared themselves for the pain of being sliced open, waiting for the agony to spread along their ribs.

“Tell me if it starts to hurt,” Aaron said. There was a strange pressure on the side of their chest, and the metallic smell of blood filled the air.

It was strange, but it didn’t hurt. It was supposed to hurt.

“It’ll go faster if you don’t cause problems.”

There was an uncomfortable tugging and pulling sensation, and then Aaron’s finger slid inside their chest. They suppressed the urge to cringe away.

“They need more local.” Joseph said, his tone switching from soft to business when he talked to Aaron.

“ ‘m okay,” they insisted. They didn’t need any more superfluous medication wasted on them. It already wasn’t as bad as they’d thought it’d be.

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you’d just behaved.”

Joseph kept holding their hand as Aaron reached for another syringe. “You’re doing great, keep it up,” he assured them.

The burning sensation returned, and then they were being spread open again. A rush of blood splattered onto the floor, splashing on Aaron’s gown.

“What, are you afraid of a little blood?

He stuck his finger into their chest again, rotating it around inside them. “Any pain, Phoenix?”

“No, sir.” They were crying more now than before.

He snatched the tube off the tray. “Give them another point-two of Eropental.”

“If you complain that it hurts one more time, I’m going to just leave the rest of the shrapnel inside.”

Joseph let go of their hand to administer the medication, and for some reason, Phoenix didn’t like it.

Meanwhile, Aaron was deep in concentration. He carefully threaded the hard, plastic tube into their chest, then quickly connected them up to the strange looking drainage machine and opened up the clamp. “Tube’s in.”

It was quickly filled with blood. “Now all we gotta suture it in place. You’re nearly done, Phoenix.

“It’s kinda useless to stitch them, since they'll heal up anyway.”

This, at least, they were familiar with. Aaron had stitched them up way more times than was justied for any one person.

Joseph was back to holding their hand now. If they’d made it this far, the punishment would probably come later. “You did great, Phoenix.”

They didn’t believe him, but they weren’t going to argue.

“Just catch up after you heal. We don’t have the time to carry you back. You have to pull your own weight.”

Aaron dosed the wound liberally with another round of anesthetic before he covered it with several layers of gauze and tape.

The blood was practically flowing out of them, out of the tube and into the pump. “We’re gonna get you scanned next,” he said as he tore off his blood flecked gown and gloves. “Hopefully your healing is doing a good job of patching it up.”

Joseph squeezed their shoulder. “We gotcha.”

For a brief moment, Phoenix let themselves entertain the thought that they weren’t going to be killed at all. If Aaron was expecting them to heal, then maybe they’d be okay. But the anxiety settled in there chest again.

Now they had to do was survive what Abbie would dole out to them.

Aaron and Joseph had let them off easy.

Abbie wouldn’t.

Taglist: @/pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump

[carlosemrick]

"What is all this?"

Whumpee gave a sheepish smile as they carefully set the plate of pancakes and the two cups of coffee down in front of their caretakers. "I wanted to do something special for you," they admitted. "I, uh... I hope it's good. I can't taste it myself, 'cause of..." they trailed off, motioning vaguely to their pointed fangs. "...but I followed the recipe to the letter! So I hope it's okay."

Much to their relief, both caretakers seemed to love it. Both had multiple, drizzled with maple syrup and whatever else they felt like that morning. Whumpee felt a great sense of triumph as they cleaned their dishes up afterwards, and were rewarded with two cups of blood that morning instead of their usual one.

[pigeonwhumps]

Begging for a quick death AU

Taglist: @annablogsposts @dont-touch-my-soup @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch @thaliaisalesbian

From this. Featuring Phoenix, Kai and Aaron from Immortal Cannon Fodder, and Isabel from Out of the Frying Pan.

Phoenix in this AU only heals fast when they're dead. They don't have the living healing factor.

Taglist peeps, lmk if you don't want to be tagged in new aus. Especially for Immortal Cannon Fodder bc I have like three (at least) in the works for that.

1.4k

CWs: immortal whumpee, begging for death, conditioned whumpee, broken neck (both the act of and the immediate aftermath), possibility of stabbing (doesn't happen), mentioned stabbing, whumpee thinks caretaker is going to hurt them, implied terrible (nearly non-existent) medical care, broken wrist, sprained ankle, sadistic whumper, implied/mentioned resurrection, temporary character death, fear of punishment

Phoenix is following Isabel in a fast-paced jog around the compound grounds when their vision blurs and they waver from exhaustion, stumbling off the path. Their foot slips, ankle turning, and they slam hard into the concrete floor, reactions too sluggish to even catch themself. Their brain seems to reverberate around their skull for a minute, vision white, and when they're able to tell which way is up they try to push themself to their feet, ignoring the screaming pain. They only make it to their knees, ankle collapsing when they try to put their weight on it.

That's okay. Isabel wouldn't like it if they were still on their feet after failing so badly anyway.

The weight is agony on their skinned knees but they hold the position, hold their expression, just as they've been taught, as Isabel marches over, face tight.

"What the hell have you you done to yourself now?" she asks, anger and scorn dripping from every word.

"I have a badly sprained ankle and skinned knees, ma'am, and, um, my face–"

"I can see your face. You're pathetic. You can't stand, can you?"

"No, ma'am." They know what's going to happen now. It'll be over a month until they can run and fight again properly, and the leaders can't afford to wait that long. "Please will you kill me quickly, ma'am?"

Isabel pulls out her dagger and examines it, stroking the blade. Phoenix feels a split-second of hope before she shakes her head, stowing the weapon back under her clothes.

"No. No, you don't deserve that, and I have my own training to do. If this doesn't work on a weak, unresisting weapon like you it won't work on proper opponents." She strides behind Phoenix, placing her hands on their shoulders. "Arch your back a little. You'll be unconscious before too long, but I hope you suffer first, as your punishment."

Phoenix obeys, trembling, and Isabel hooks a warm, bare arm tightly around their neck. Isabel's too close, her warm breath on the back of their neck, they can't see what she's doing, they can't move, her arm is too tight and it feels like they can't breathe.

She yanks their head round, pulls it up, drops them. Two heartbeats and it's done.

Somewhere in that, something snapped. Now they really can't breathe.

They gasp for air, still, air they can't take in, their breathing gets faster, they're desperate for air but they can't get any, oh, god, they can't breathe, their vision greys around the edges and everything fades.

They pass out, panicking and defenseless, still unable to breathe.

_

"Pass me that book, will you, Phoenix?"

Phoenix is helping Kai clean up the front room, while Aaron works on the infirmary. They've got visitors coming tomorrow, friends of Kai and Aaron's, and Phoenix is just on the edge of panicking about it, but now they have more immediate problems.

Their wrist is broken. It's still throbbing when they move it, it looks a bit off, just enough to only be noticeable to them, but they can't tell anyone or they'll be killed. They've been doing a pretty good job of hiding it, too.

They swallow hard and hold their expression still as they pick up the book with their injured hand. They keep their face still, completely still, still as they were taught, as they pass Kai the book.

Maybe it's a little too still, maybe they're a little too stiff, but whatever it is, Kai catches it and frowns, setting down the book.

"Are you okay?"

Phoenix nods, heart just about ready to explode out of their chest. "I'm fine, sir. I just, um, I was thinking of something." An offence, surely, but less of one than breaking their wrist out of their own stupidity.

"Sit down for a minute." Kai sits down himself and pats the sofa, and Phoenix joins him apprehensively, perching tentatively on the edge. "You're not in trouble. I just don't believe that excuse. Does anything hurt? Physically, emotionally, anything else?"

Phoenix looks away. It always hurts emotionally, Kai's going to kill them. They don't want to tell him the truth, but they know he won't accept nothing for an answer.

"My, um, my wrist is broken."

Kai nods. "Aaron! We need you! And bring the first aid kit!" Phoenix flinches. "Sorry. Will you show me your wrist?"

Phoenix stretches out their arm, biting their lip when he takes it carefully in his hand, examining their slightly swollen wrist.

"Please will you kill me quickly, sir?"

Kai looks up, horror plainly visible. "No. Phoenix, god no, I'm not killing you."

Phoenix frowns. What's he going to do then?

Kai sighs, rubbing their shoulder in a manner they think is meant to be comforting (because, well, it kind of is). "You can drop the sir, too. When did you do this?"

"Two days ago." Kai nods, and they hesitate before saying, "Can I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why, um, why didn't you believe me? How do you always know?"

Kai strokes Phoenix's hair back gently. "Your face was too still. Too stiff. It's the expression you make when you're desperately trying to hide what you think or feel."

"Oh." They wish they could be more articulate, but they don't know what else to say. No-one's ever cared enough to notice that before – so long as they weren't crying, it was fine.

And it is care, not looking for reasons to punish them, they know that now. It took them a while but they're getting there.

"Yeah."

Aaron enters the room and strides across to Phoenix, kneeling down in front of them. They shift uncomfortably. Nobody should be kneeling to them.

"What's wrong, Phoenix?"

"I've broken my wrist," murmurs Phoenix. "Um, two days ago."

"Right. The swelling should have mostly gone down by now, but I'm going to splint it anyway for a few days before we put a cast on. Does it hurt?"

Phoenix nods, unsure what most of those terms mean but knowing it does hurt, and Aaron rummages in the first aid kit, pulling out a packet of pills and popping a couple out. He hands them to Phoenix along with the glass of squash on the side table.

"Here, take these. They should help."

"Thank you."

Phoenix swallows them gratefully, watching as Aaron rummages in their bag again. They're looking for something else. A splint, maybe? They don't know.

Kai clears his throat, and they snap their gaze to him.

"You were begging for a quick death. Have I done something to make you think I'd kill you?"

Phoenix shrugs. "That's just how it works. If the injury's, um, going to affect my performance for more than, um, a few hours, then I'm killed, and I heal quicker. It's just, um, not always quick unless I deserve it. So I thought you'd kill me."

There's a beat of silence.

"So when I found you bleeding out... that was normal? That's why you were so surprised?"

Phoenix nods. The months since Kai found them bleeding out after being injured in a training mission and helped them, brought them to his and Aaron's base instead of handing them in or ignoring them, have been one surprise after another.

Kai grips their shoulder tightly. Comforting-tight, not painful-tight.

"Never. I'd never, we'd never kill you, Phoenix. That's not how things work around here."

"What happens, then?" asks Phoenix, confused. Why would they not be killed?

"I patch you up," says Aaron, wrapping the split too carefully around their outstretched wrist, "and then we let it heal. Normally. With painkillers. No death involved."

"With painkillers?"

"Yeah. With painkillers. Like the ones I just gave you. We won't leave you in unnecessary pain."

"But–"

"No," says Kai firmly. "You won't learn from it, or whatever the reason you want to stay in pain is. Any pain is unnecessary, and I won't stand for it. Neither will Aaron."

"Oh."

Phoenix frowns. They don't understand why Kai's so insistent on giving them painkillers. But they're not complaining.

For the first time ever, they actually feel safe. The threat of being disposed of when they're no longer useful isn't as ever-present, they're not in pain for the first time they can remember.

And they haven't died once since Kai and Aaron brought them home.