theasexualwriterrat

[theasexualwriterrat]

prompt #14

“Who… who did this to you?”

“Who. Do. You. THINK?” Hero glowered at Villain with… with what looked like hatred. Pure, hardened hatred. “Who has me in a cell, cuffed and tied up like the prisoner I am? Who would want to hurt me? Who even could?” 

“Hero-“ Villain tried, but was immediately cut off by the prisoner’s furious expression.

“It was you. Your people. Your friends.”

Their captor flinched. “They’re not my-“

“I DON’T CARE!” They screamed, not seeming small at all anymore. And though their magic had been repressed, there was a flicker of something powerful in their eyes. They probably didn’t know it, but Hero was terrifying at that moment. “You might as well have given me these bruises yourself.”

“No,” Villain said, eyes widening. “No, Hero, I would never hurt you like that.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Hero’s voice was low and impossibly dark, filled with deadly poison. They turned their head away, shadows falling across their figure. “Haven’t you already?”

[theasexualwriterrat]

June of doom 8 - "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Concussion | Mugged | Drugged

"Hero?" Villain nearly cackled at the sight. Hero was a lot of things. Hero was a beacon of light, a bringer of hope, a shining star in the middle of the darkest sky. Brave, kind, strong. Incredibly stubborn. Annoyingly stubborn. Frustratingly stubborn.

What Hero wasn't, well... Hero certainly wasn't the moaning, pathetic mess that was laying in front of Villain's estate. It couldn't be. But then again, that physique was certainly their nemesis'. The stance however...

...left a lot to be desired.

Hero's body was hunched forward, their legs shaking as they wobbled and fought to stay straight. "V'll-.. V'llain..." they slurred. Oh my God, were they drunk? The villain's lips curled upwards. This was a rare sight.

Villain crossed their arms over their chest. "Taking a stroll, my darling?" Their eyes followed Hero's shaking hand, which was aiming (and failing) to reach out to them. Oh, they were enjoying every second of this. "It's dangerous to just roam about in this area, though." They eyed the trembling hero from head to toe. "Especially in your state."

Hero slurred something that sounded like either "shut up" or "fuck off". Not that it mattered, since it came out as garbled nonsense anyway. The villain laughed.

"You don't look so well, darling." They tilted their head to the side, leaning against the wall, as if they hadn't a care in the world.

"Villain, I..." Hero froze suddenly.

"Hm?"

"I..."

"...Hero?" Villain tensed a little. Hero let out a loud whimper before they fell on their knees with a loud thud. They were still shaking, but they seemed... unresponsive to the villain, who now sat on one knee in front of them. Villain slowly put a finger on Hero's chin and tilted their head to see their face better.

They were not drunk, they realized. They were drugged. Their eyes were too unfocused and unaffected by the blinding light coming from Villain's house.

"Hero." Villain demanded. "Hero, look at me."

The hero didn't even blink.

"Hero, darling." That seemed to spark something. Hero groaned and Villain cupped their whole face with their hand. They raised the other, showing off their middle finger. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Hero only blinked, a bit of drool pooling on the bottom of their half-opened mouth. Villain sighed. The other was worse than they thought. It was a miracle they were able to walk to Villain's house. Wordlessly, they hoisted the hero up in their arms and brought them inside.

"...whyre..." Hero grumbled in their arms.

"Hm?"

"Mphr..."

"Please use your words, darling. I can't understand a thing you say." The villain said as they layed the drugged hero on their bed.

"..why... why armh.. why are you..." Hero trailed off and let out a deep sigh, as if even talking took most of their energy. Maybe it did.

"You're the one that came to me." The villain whispered in their ear as they shifted Hero into a more comfortable position. "Why did you come to me?"

Nothing.

"...Hero?"

Still nothing. The villain groaned, a bit annoyed. "You're no fun like this, you know." They patted the hero's cheek gently. "You better pull yourself together, darling, or I'll get bored."

"Huh?..." Oh, good, they were back again. "V..Villain?"

"Hello, darling." The villain kept their hand on Hero's face while the other scrolled on their phone. "I'm gonna call the doctor. And when this is over, I'm going to make you tell me exactly who did this to you." They stroked the their cheek. "Am I clear?"

Hero only whined and leaned their face on Villain's hand.

"Good." The villain smiled and pressed call.

[theasexualwriterrat]

Whumpee who needs a surgery but they have Trauma about being knocked out and things Done to them.

Do they get the surgery while paralyzed and numb, but awake? Is caretaker there to still walk them through what's happening to them?

Do they agree to go under full anesthesia but only if caretaker is there both when they go under and wake up, and very specific instructions about how they want to be treated during the process?

"Fine, just, can you be there when I'm waking up? And please don't judge me if I react poorly to you, I- I don't always know where I am when I'm coming out of it."

"Let me hold the gas to my own face. Don't touch me until I'm out. Make sure I'm dressed the same by the time I'm coming up. Do what you have to do while I'm out, I don't want to hear details about it unless I ask, just get it done."

[theasexualwriterrat]

Next of Kin

@medwhumpmay Day 10

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: pet whump, caretaker new master, neglect, rescue, avian hybrid whumpee

-

Inheriting an exotic bird from an uncle they barely knew would already be a huge pain if that bird wasn’t also six feet tall with a wingspan twice that.

Caretaker pulled up at their uncle’s house. They knew, most likely, they’d been chosen because they were close enough physically to make the drive comfortable for the bird, but not close enough emotionally to have already said no. They had been given no instructions other than what they could find on the internet, and everyone seemed to have wildly varying opinions on the best way to take care of these things.

At the very least, hybrids were capable of speech. Not mimicking like a regular parrot, but actual understanding. So the bird could probably just tell them what it needed.

They unlocked the door with the key their mom had given them. “Hello?”

“Hello?” a voice called back, a timid mirror of their own.

Caretaker walked toward the sound–it wasn’t hard to spot him.

The man before her couldn’t be described any way but beautiful, but not the way you’d call a human beautiful. He was covered in colorful feathers from head to toe, only his face and hands revealing that he also had skin. Reds, yellows, greens, and blues blended together wondrously, and it looked so incredibly out-of-place in a cage in their uncle’s old house.

He shied back, massive wings folded around him almost like a blanket. “Hello?” he repeated. The cage was large, definitely the largest of any kind Caretaker had seen, even big enough for Whumpee to stand up or lay down. Though they doubted Whumpee could unfurl his wings in there. It was decorated with various toys and enrichment, which he was wholly ignoring at the moment.

“Hi. I’m Caretaker. I’m going to be taking care of you from now on, I guess?” They spoke softly, trying not to spook Whumpee further.

“He’s not coming back?” the bird asked.

“No. He died. I’m sorry,” Caretaker said, awkward and stiff. How were they supposed to break the news of an owner’s death to his pet, who knew him a lot better than they ever did? “He was my uncle.”

Whumpee nodded slowly. He didn’t seem overly sad, at least. They weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “I can leave the cage?”

“Yeah. You’re coming to my place. Listen–I’ve never met a hybrid before, let alone taken care of one. So you’re gonna have to help me out here. Can you point out anything we need to take with us?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee pointed to the opposite wall with an uncomfortably human-looking finger. Hanging there was a key rack, only one key remaining on it.

“Oh. Sure,” they said.

What was the worst that could happen? The bird flies away or something? Honestly, Caretaker half-hoped it would happen. Not their problem and not entirely their fault.

They unlocked the cage, and Whumpee waited for them to step away before cautiously exiting. He shook himself out in the center of the living room, stretching his wings to their full length, managing to touch each wall with the tips of his wings. His arms reached up, reveling in the increase in space.

“Comfy?” Caretaker asked, and Whumpee startled, head whipping around like he’d forgotten they were there.

“Yes.” His wings drooped, brushing the floor, and he hunched over a little, so he almost appeared shorter than Caretaker. “I can take whatever I want?”

“Only your things,” they clarified. “Whatever my uncle got for you specifically. I’ll let you know if it’s something you can’t take.”

“Do I have to take everything?” he asked, head tilted.

Ah.

The cage. It was clear he hated it, and frankly, keeping a depressed man in a cage in their home sounded like the least appealing thing in the world. Not only that, but it definitely wouldn’t fit in their car.

“We can leave the cage,” Caretaker said. “Take everything else, though. Even if you don’t think you’ll need it, better to have it just in case.”

Whumpee didn’t smile, but his eyes widened and gleamed in excitement. “No more cage? Or you have a different one? Is it bigger or smaller?”

“No cage. Just don’t mess with my things and we’ll be fine?” they suggested. Maybe viewing this as a sort of roommate situation would be better. A roommate who doesn’t pay rent and just sits around looking pretty. Something like that.

“I’ll be good,” Whumpee promised. “I don’t pick at things. I don’t take things that don’t belong to me. I’m a good bird.” The way he said it was slightly unnatural, like he was reciting something from memory.

Caretaker gave him two thumbs up. “Awesome. I’ll open the trunk and start throwing in anything that looks obviously yours.”

Together they gathered up bags of food, the toys and water bottle from inside the cage, a large dog bed. “Good bird, good bird,” Whumpee murmured to himself. Whenever he gathered something, he simply left it by the front door while Caretaker carried it to the car.

Guess I don’t have to worry about him running away.

“That’s all of my things.” Whumpee carried the key to the cage, though Caretaker had left it back on the key rack. They didn’t bother to take it from him.

“Alright. Ready to go?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee tilted his head, gazing out the door. “I’m not allowed outside.”

Caretaker sighed. “I’m allowing you outside.”

Just then, a car drove past. Not even a particularly fast car. Whumpee bristled, scurrying back into the house, eyes wide.

Oh, he was scared.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Caretaker approached him like a frightened animal, which they supposed he was. “It’s safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Just gonna walk to the car, and you can have the whole backseat to yourself, and it’s like twenty minutes to my place. When we get there, you can explore your new home. I’ve got a balcony where you can stretch out as much as you want. I even bought some treats you can have.” Though it sounded a little too patronizing now that they’d met him. They reached out a hand. “How’s that sound?”

He didn’t take it. “What is a balcony?”

“It’s like, a little outside platform connected to an apartment. It’s not super big, but there’s no walls, just a railing, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into anything. And you don’t have to worry about anything outside either, ‘cause it’s a floor up and enclosed,” Caretaker explained patiently. “Wanna come see it?”

Whumpee listened to their explanation like a child learning about Santa Claus for the first time. This time, he did take their hand, small, soft feathers fading down the back of his own. “Yes. I would like that.”

-

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[theasexualwriterrat]

Infection

@medwhumpmay Day 9

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: infection, gangrene, amputation, field surgery, broken bones, gore, brief & temporary death wish, lady whump, yuri!

-

The infection only got worse and worse.

Whumpee tried to get the guards to do something about it. When it became apparent that the guards didn’t give a fuck whether she lived or died, she tried to ignore it. But as her foot started to necrose more and more, and then her ankle, and then her lower leg, she stopped being able to ignore it.

She didn’t take her shoe off anymore. It hurt too much, and looking at it made her want to puke. She couldn’t stand, could barely even sit.

And then she got a cellmate.

The other captive was quiet and reserved, but not shy. She was polite, but not much for conversation, not unless it served some practical purpose.

So when Caretaker asked What’s wrong with your leg? only hours after arriving, without having seen anything, she knew it had to be bad.

“Some kinda infection,” Whumpee explained, her voice ever-strained now. “Figure it’ll go away or my foot’ll fall off, one or the other.”

“Or you get sepsis and die,” Caretaker added bluntly.

Whumpee glared at her. “You some kinda doctor?”

“Medic,” Caretaker corrected. “Can I take a look?”

Whumpee grimaced. She hadn’t looked at it in weeks, and at that point it was just the ball of her foot. It hurt all over now, and she could only imagine how bad it was.

But she didn’t want to get sepsis and die.

“Fine. You can look at it if you can get my boot off.” Whumpee didn’t bother to even try to get up off the floor.

Caretaker came to her. She gripped her right boot, tugging only slightly, but Whumpee had to bite her lip and jerk her head to the side so Caretaker wouldn’t see her cry.

“They’re kidnapping medics now?” she forced out, squeaky, just to try to distract herself.

“Apparently they are. Fast or slow?” Caretaker asked.

Whumpee sucked in a deep, sharp breath. “Fast.”

And Caretaker yanked the boot off all at once.

Whumpee screamed. She couldn’t help it, it was the worst pain she’d ever felt in her entire life, and it wasn’t even close. Miles worse than being shot.

“Breathe,” Caretaker said, and Whumpee was about to spit a remark out about that being oh so helpful when she felt Caretaker take her hand. The medic’s hands were warm and gentle, clasped around her own like a clamshell guarding a pearl. “I’m going to help you.”

She did breathe. Big, shaking breaths in time with Caretaker’s own, until the pain settled back to its already-awful baseline.

She didn’t dare look.

“You have gangrene,” Caretaker said as soon as Whumpee seemed in a place to hear it. “Your lower leg is rotting away. It needs to go or it’s going to take the rest of you with it.”

“Guards don’t care, I already tried ‘em. Fuck. I’m gonna die in here.” Whumpee did look up at her then, still teary, caring less about that by the moment.

Caretaker looked out through the bars. She dropped Whumpee’s hand, shuffling away toward the corner. When she seemed certain that no one else was looking, she silently lifted her shirt and pulled a small pocketknife from her waist. Just as quickly, she resheathed it and pulled her shirt back down.

“How did you–”

“They didn’t search me,” Caretaker whispered. “Probably assumed I didn’t have anything.”

Whumpee set her gaze back on the floor beside her head. “You’re going to cut my leg off with that?”

“We don’t have any other options.” Caretaker was right, Whumpee knew it, but still, the thought of that puny knife sawing into her for who knows how long when simply taking off her boot sent her into unimaginable pain…

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Caretaker continued. “We’ll wait for a time the guards seem unlikely to interrupt us. The fact that they barely looked in when you screamed is a good sign.”

Whumpee nodded blearily. “I’ve been screaming a lot.”

“Good. But we’ll have to try to limit it so they don’t get suspicious. We’ll have to gag you. It’s going to be really, really bad. I’d never think of performing something like this on a conscious person unless it’s an absolute emergency, and that’s what this is. You are going to die if we don’t remove that rotting tissue. I’m going to have to use leverage to break the bone–my knife isn’t strong enough to cut through bone. Then I’ll cut through it as fast as I can, wrap it in my shirt, make a tourniquet, put as much pressure on it as I can, and hope you don’t bleed out or get infected again. It’s the best we’ve got. The good news is I’m pretty sure I can save your knee. Guess it’s a good thing they’re kidnapping medics.”

It sounded like hell.

She had no other choice.

“Okay. I’m in.”

The guards left them alone when they went for dinner–it wasn’t like they expected them to do much. And really, they wouldn’t care about the surgery itself anyway. But if they found Caretaker’s knife, they’d take it away, and then she really would die.

Caretaker pulled off her shirt and slung it over her shoulder, leaving her in a sweaty white tank top. She cut a strip off the bottom, tying it and fashioning it into a makeshift gag.

“This is going to hurt. Just try and stay still or this is going to be way harder than it needs to be.” She knelt down beside Whumpee, one knee bent at a 90-degree angle.

Whumpee nodded. Caretaker picked Whumpee’s leg up and hoisted it over her knee, sending a shockwave of pain through it, and as she rolled up the pant leg, Whumpee finally saw it.

Her leg was unrecognizable. Her toes were totally black, the skin of her foot and up her leg rotten to the bone, which was visible out the side and yellowed. Was it supposed to be yellowed? The whole thing looked more like a dead tree than a part of her body. It was a miracle she kept herself from throwing up, her vision spinning.

“Brace yourself.” Caretaker warned. She wrapped one hand around one fist, raising them up in the air like a hammer.  “This is the worst part. I’m going to try to snap the bone. I’m probably not going to be able to do it on the first try. Don’t look and don’t struggle.”

Whumpee whipped her head to the side. As soon as she did, Caretaker brought her fist down with all the force she had.

Something cracked.

For a moment, Whumpee thought there was a ringing in her ears, soon realizing it was the sound of her own muffled screams. It felt like every nerve in her leg had been pulverized, and she twisted away, unable to control herself in her desperation to escape it.

Caretaker gripped her firmly by the shoulder, twisting her right back. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right spot, it didn’t break where we needed it. The bone is weaker on the infection. If I cut there, you’ll still be infected. I need to go again.”

Whumpee shook her head vigorously. She’d rather die. She couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry,” Caretaker repeated, her voice wavering for once. Distantly, Whumpee realized they were both crying.

The hammer of Caretaker’s fists came down again.

And again. And again.

Each time, Whumpee wailed, trying to leap away to death, though Caretaker easily brought her back. Finally, there was another crack, though everything below that hurt so much worse she could barely feel it.

“There. That’s the worst part,” Caretaker panted, as if she were the one exhausted. “It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

She flipped out that little knife and began to saw.

Whumpee was too spent to struggle anymore, even as she saw the floor grow slick with her blood, even as she felt the blade carve her up like a piece of meat, digging into the corded muscle of her calf.

But oddly enough, by the time she felt her leg thunk onto the cell floor, it hurt less than before they’d began.

Caretaker wrapped something tight just below her knee, and Whumpee whined. Caretaker kept wrapping and wrapping, and when she was done, she pressed her hand into the fabric over the stump of Whumpee’s leg, not letting go.

“It’s done,” she announced. “It’s done. How are you feeling?”

Arms shaking, Whumpee reached up and removed the gag from her mouth. “It hurts,” she whimpered, voice small like a child’s. Whimpered, something she couldn’t say she’d ever done before in her life.

“I know. I’m here. You’re going to live, Whumpee,” Caretaker said reverently.

Whumpee stared at the severed limb laying in a bloody heap on the floor.

She breathed.

-

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[theasexualwriterrat]

Whump Drabble - Brainwashed Hero

CW: brainwashing/mind control, needle and drugging, sedation, betrayal, forced medical care

“Relax your muscles, Hero. It’s going to hurt more if you tense up like that.” Super Hero remarked, picking up a syringe.

Hero forced themselves to sit back in the chair, took a deep breath, and let their arms fall limp at their sides, one of which - their left - had a piece of blue rubber tied above the elbow, where Super Hero had just wiped their skin with an alcohol swab.

“Is that better?” Hero’s voice came out softly, choked by the rising anxiety in their stomach.

“Better.” Super Hero smiled reassuringly.

Hero took a breath, and closed their eyes as Super Hero stepped closer to the chair, brandishing the syringe.

“Alright. Deep breaths. That’s it.”

Super Hero’s voice drifted above them.

“Little pinch now.”

Then came the sharp pinch in their arm, just below the rubber tie.

“Deep breath out.”

Hero released the air, shuddering slightly as they felt the freezing liquid from the syringe flood into their veins and start pumping into their system.

“S’cold..” They whispered, clenching their eyes shut tighter.

“I know. But you’re all done now.”

Hero slowly opened their eyes to see the syringe gone, and Super Hero in the process of removing the rubber tie and putting a small band-aid over the site.

“Oh.”

“You did great, Hero. Just relax there for a bit so I can make sure you’re alright, and then you can take the rest of the day off to rest. I’m proud of you, you know.” Super Hero smiled as they squeezed Hero’s shoulder gently. “You did good, kid.”

“T- thanks.” Hero stammered.

“You can thank me when we know it works and keeps any heinous villain from getting in your head.” Super Hero asserted.

They had explained to Hero many times how the chemicals in the serum would ensure that they would be protected against all forms of manipulation, hypnosis or mind control magics or methods, and yet Hero still didn’t quite understand how it worked. But, they figured, if Super Hero thought it’d be helpful, they should trust in their superior and accept the treatment.

“Alright, let’s get you back to your room. I think you should be right..."

Super Hero escorted Hero back to their room in the training compound and helped them onto the bed so that they could rest. Before Super Hero left the room, they turned around and paused in the doorway.

“Oh, and like I said before; we’ll need to do the treatment once a day for the next few weeks so that it can be most effective. But you can’t take the next few weeks off to relax - we need you. So once we’re sure you’re taking it well, you can get back into it.”

“Okay.” Hero whispered.

“Sleep well, Hero.” Super Hero murmured, flicking off the lights.

-------------- *Several weeks later* ---------------

“Come Hero, it’s time for your treatment.” Super Hero said.

Super Hero began escorting Hero down the hall to the room, as they’d done for weeks. Suddenly, a loud blaring could be heard echoing through the compound. The alert. They’d been breached.

“We have to get out. Now.” Super Hero barked, grabbing Hero by the arm.

They both bolted down the hallway. As they ran, they passed guards and other heroes racing in every way, barking out commands and instructions at each other.

“Super Hero, what’s going on?!” Hero yelled.

“No idea!” was the only response.

They raced down the hall, brushing past others in the compound until they reached the elevator. Just as Super Hero was about to hit the button to call the elevator down, the doors slid open by themselves. A large group of people burst through into the hall, and it took a second for Hero to process who was standing in front of them. When they did, their jaw dropped.

It was Super Villain, accompanied by Villain and their goonies. Before Super Hero could tell Hero to run, the villains burst forward, heading straight for the heroes.

"GET HERO!" Super Villain screamed to Villain.

Super Hero let out a blast of fire from their palm, which collided with Villain as they attempted to leap off the wall and drop down onto Super Hero. Villain cried out and crashed into the floor, where they rolled around in a frantic attempt to put out the flames that had begun to engulf them.

"I'll handle Super Villain. You get out!" Super Hero called to Hero.

Super Villain sent a blast of frozen air, which frosted over Super Hero's skin and made them freeze in place.

Villain was able to grab Hero from behind. "Got em! Help me get them out of here."

Hero thrashed against the grasp. "LET ME GO!"

"Hey, it's okay! You're safe now. It's alright." Villain said.

Hero knew this was one of their foul tactics to try to corrupt Hero's mind. Luckily, Super Hero had prepared them for this.

They sent off a blast of red energy from their finger, but Villain ducked. The blast collided with the wall where Villain’s head had been a second prior.

“Hurry, Villain! We’ve got to get them out of here!” Super Villain screamed, sending a blast of blue energy at the guards around them.

Several guards crashed into the ground, frost spreading over their unmoving bodies. Hero, distracted by Villain and Super Villain, didn’t notice as Super Villain’s henchmen swarmed behind Hero until it was too late. The henchmen dragged Hero, now kicking and screaming, into the elevator. Super Villain and Villain shot off several more bolts of energy as they backed up into the elevator and the doors slid shut.

Hero backed against the wall of the elevator. They knew they were cornered, but they couldn’t give up.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Villain said, bending down to Hero.

“No! Get AWAY!” Hero sent out a massive blast, which collided straight with Villain’s chest and sent them crashing into the opposite wall of the elevator, which they slid down and fell to the floor.

“VILLAIN!” Super Villain screamed.

They turned to look back at Villain, then to Hero, then back to Villain. In a split-second, Super Villain made their choice. They leapt at Hero and pressed their hand to Hero’s temple. Blue tendrils crept from Super Villain’s hand and into Hero’s head. Hero’s eyes glowed blue, and they crashed to the floor, unconscious.

----

When Hero’s eyes opened, they found themselves in a bed. Their first thought was that maybe they’d had some bizarre nightmare, but they quickly realised that was not the case. They were in a hospital-esque room, with an IV in their arm, a heart-monitor on the chest, and restraints around their arms and legs. Panic rose in their chest as they remembered that they had no clue what happened to Super Hero. They could be dead, and now Hero was alone, imprisoned in the Villain Base. Hero noticed cameras and a two-way mirror in the wall. They were being watched. They’d have to try to contact Super Hero, and fast, before they could be stopped.

Villain and Super Villain stood outside the room, watching closely through the two-way mirror.

“Do you think they’re going to be alright?” Villain asked, their brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m not sure. We can only try our best.” Super Villain replied.

Hero lay in the bed, their chest rising heavily. The heartbeat monitor began to beep faster and faster. Their eyes glowed bright red as they attempted to reach out telepathically to Super Hero. There was only a buzzing sound in their mind. They knew this sound. Their abilities were being repressed.

“We should go, right now. Before they panic.” Super Villain commanded.

The two villains stormed into the room, with two medics from the base in tow.

Hero looked up to the door, fear spreading over their face. “You. Let me go. Right. NOW.” they spat.

“It’s alright. We froze Super Hero, but we didn’t hurt them. They’ll be fine by now.” Super Villain said.

“We won’t hurt you, either.” Villain added.

“You knocked me out, kidnapped me, strapped me to a bed, knocked me unconscious, and took away my powers!” Hero yelled, thrashing against their restraints.

“It’s for your own good!” Villain protested.

“Well, forgive me if I don’t believe you, Villain.” The hatred in Hero’s voice as they said Villain’s name was enough to make Villain flinch.

“Hey. Hero, we are trying to help you. Super Hero has been brainwashing you. I don’t give a damn if you believe us or not. But we can’t help you unless you let us.” Super Villain barked out.

“DON’T YOU DARE!!!” Hero screamed. “Super Hero injected me with a serum, so nothing you try to manipulate me will work!”

“Okay, okay. We’re going to go now, okay. Let you cool off.” Villain soothed. “Come on.” Villain took Super Villain by the arm, and dragged them out of the room.

More medics came rushing into the room, clutching medical supplies. Villain and Super Villain watched on in concern as Hero was pinned to the bed and a syringe injected a sedative into Hero’s veins. The angry rescuee went limp as they went out cold.

“We’ve got to do something about this. Time to call a team meeting.” Super Villain declared.

----

“Hero said something about a.. serum, right?”

Villain, Super Villain, and several henchmen sat around a large table in a briefing room.

“Yeah.. I don’t know what it could be, though. Or how we can possibly begin to reverse the effects.” Villain replied.

“Alright, well, I want you and Medic to look into it. It’s pretty clear here that Super Hero has been manipulating Hero into being under their control using that serum. And we’re going to be unable to change Hero’s mind by talking to them alone.” Super Villain commanded.

“On it. Should we try to get a hold of a sample of the serum?”

“No - not if you need to break back into the Hero Base. We can’t take any chances here, or else Super Hero might be able to extract information from us about Hero, or manipulate you into working for them.”

“Alright.”

---

Villain slumped their head into their hands. “It’s hopeless. We can’t help them, and they don’t want us to.”

“No. Don’t say that.” Medic sighed. They placed their tablet down on the table and reached out to lay their hand on Villain’s shoulder. “We can figure something out.”

“Yeah.. I guess - wait!” Villain bolted upright in their seat, jostling Medic by accident. “Sorry! I just had a thought. Our mole - the one who told us Super Hero was abusing Hero. What if they could send us a sample?”

“It’s a good idea.. But I think it’s too risky. What if they get caught?”

Villain sighed, and slumped down once more.

“Wait. Actually, the solution was right in front of us the whole time!” Medic exclaimed. “We need to get a sample of Hero’s blood and run it through a new device I’ve been working on. It should synthesise an antidote that can reverse the effects of the serum. And we should find the footage from the hero base where Superhero was talking about what they did to Hero. And anything new we can get from the hidden cams. That could help them understand what Superhero has done to them.”

“We just have to get a sample of Hero’s blood in the first place. And they hardly let anyone near them, I doubt we’re going to have much luck drawing their blood.” Villain sighed.

“We can’t sedate them. We need their bloodstream clear aside from the drug. We’ll have to try to wait until they’re asleep.” Medic asserted.

----

Medic and Villain quietly approached Hero’s room.

Hero was fast asleep. They seemed exhausted. The power-suppressing cuffs were still working, but their straining against them had left Hero’s wrists raw and bleeding.

They’d have to bandage Hero’s wrists up too.

Medic and Villain snuck inside, and began setting up a syringe. Medic gestured to Villain, who gently held Hero steady, ready to tighten their grip as quickly and as tightly as necessary.

Medic positioned the syringe in line with Hero’s vein, and then slid the needle in.

Hero flinched in their sleep, and Medic and Villain locked eyes in panic. But within a moment, Hero’s head had lolled to the side and they had slipped back into seemingly-restful sleep. Villain let out a sigh of relief. Medic finished drawing the blood into a vial, and removed the syringe. They gave a thumbs up to Villain.

After bandaging the wounds on Hero’s wrists, the two were able to return to Medic’s lab. They placed a sample of Hero’s blood into Medic’s new device, and it activated.

“It appears to be some kind of drug that enhances susceptibility to the manipulation that Superhero was putting them through. It sped up the process of making Hero fully under their control. It was all about power, and it still is. Good news is, my device is able to create a neutral serum that will reverse these effects and get them to trust us enough to help them. We only need to give them one dose, unlike Superhero - that way we can continue to undo the brainwashing by talking to them, and earn their real trust. Otherwise we’d be just as bad as Superhero. But we will have to be careful that they don’t try to escape back to them anyway.”

“Alright. How long will it take?” Villain asked.

“Two hours. Go get Super Villain. We start as soon as it’s ready.” Medic asserted.

----

Super Villain, Villain and Medic stood at Hero’s door.

“And.. you’re sure this is actually going to work?” Super Villain asked.

“No. But it’s worth a try.” Villain said.

“They're more likely to trust me if I go in alone. You two wait here.” Medic said.

Medic quietly opened the door to Hero's room. Hero was laying on their side, their back to the door, so they couldn't tell if Hero was awake or asleep.

Villain and Super Villain watched from behind the two-way mirror as Medic began setting up their equipment on a little side table.

“Hey, Hero. It's me, Medic. I'm just going to do a little check up, okay?”

Hero rolled over, their eyes fixed on the ceiling, and didn't say a word.

“Okay. How are you feeling?” Medic asked, as they began to check Hero's heart rate and pupil response.

Hero didn't answer, their jaw set stubbornly.

“Ok, that's fine. I'm going to rebandage your wrists now, alright?” Medic removed the restraints around Hero’s wrists, and gently cleaned the wounds Hero had made from struggling. Hero flinched but didn't pull away, allowing the Medic to then replace the bandages. Medic then turned away to pick up something else, and Hero frowned.

“Aren't you… aren’t you going to cuff me again?” Hero asked in a small voice.

“No, Hero.” Medic said in a gentle voice. They placed a hand tentatively on Hero's shoulder. “We're trying to help you. I promise.”

Medic gently pulled away their hand, then picked up a small syringe. “Hero, I have some medication here I want you to take - just painkillers.”

Hero looked dubiously at the syringe. “I- I don't like needles.”

“Please, Hero. It will really help you. I'm sure you haven't gotten very much rest since you came here. It will help you sleep.” Medic said gently.

Hero took in a deep breath through their nose, then out through their mouth, their eyes flashing red for a moment. Medic, remembering that Villain and Super Villaiin were behind the mirror, ready to pounce, put their open hand behind their back in the ‘wait’ signal.

“Hey, Hero. It's alright. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just trying to help you. You can say no, I won't be angry. It's your choice.” Medic soothed, their voice low and calm.

Hero took another deep breath, the red in their eyes dying out as their fear ebbed and faded slightly. “Ok.” They mumbled. “Ok, you can do it. Just.. get it over with.”

Medic smiled gently. “Of course.” They filled the syringe with the serum. “Just going to wipe the area first, love, okay? It might feel a little cold.”

They picked up an alcohol wipe, cleaning the skin around Hero’s shoulder. “Ready? This might pinch a bit, but I promise it won't be sore for long.”

Hero nodded, clenching their eyes shut, and continued to take long deep breaths. Medic placed a gentle hand below Hero's arm to steady their other hand, then gently slid the syringe into the muscle of Hero’s shoulder. Hero hissed through their teeth, but their hands relaxed at their sides as the serum entered their blood stream.

“That's it, Hero. Just relax.” Medic removed the needle and patted Medic's hand. “You did well.”

Hero let a single tear slip down their cheek.

“Hey, hey, you did well. It's over now.” Medic smiled. They stroked a hand through Hero's hair. Hero flinched, then relaxed into the touch.

Medic wrapped an arm around Hero’s shoulder. “You're safe now. Go to sleep.”

Hero nodded softly, and buried their head into Medic. “Safe.” They mumbled.

Medic just smiled, and stayed with Hero until they fell asleep, only a few minutes later.

[theasexualwriterrat]

Merry Whumpmas 2023 Day 1: Hospital

(featuring OC's Rowan and Victoria)

TW: Broken ribs, hospital, ghost, bruises, sprained wrist, IV drip, needle mention, heart monitor painkiller mention

Masterpost

Rowan regained consciousness slowly. At first, the only thing he was aware of was how he was somehow unable to fully draw breath. It was as if his chest was constricted somehow.

The second thing he became aware of was the stabbing pain and the sensation of bone grinding together whenever he tried to inhale too forcibly.

He groaned softly, which led to the discovery of a third thing: the plastic oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. He then noticed the softness of a bed beneath him, a blanket overtop him, the bandages bound tightly across his chest and around his left wrist. The fingers of his left hand twitched automatically with this newest discovery, and cold flames licked up his arm as a result.

Rowan’s eyes fluttered open. The harsh lights overhead threatened to blind him, and he squinted at his surroundings. He lay on his back in one of those hospital beds at an angle that wasn’t completely flat but not straight upright either, somewhere in between. The ceiling was made of foam squares with tiny black dots—or were those holes? He couldn’t tell—and the walls were a dull white.

As Rowan studied the walls, trying to determine if they were textured, a… figure… of some sort detached itself from the exact spot on the wall he was staring at. He barely made out the outline as it moved from one side of the room to the other before vanishing through the opposite wall. He blinked in shock, expecting to have felt some boiling unease at the sight of the specter. So the ghost was harmless…?

He continued his sweep of the room. A complex machine rested to the left of his bed, one of the screens displaying what he assumed was a heart monitor, beeping softly for every second that passed. An IV drip next to it almost drew his attention to the needle embedded in his arm, but he forced himself to look to the other side of the room.

On his right side was the door leading out to the rest of the hospital. Next to the door were two chairs, with the space for a third chair left empty. As his eyes finished moving to the right, he realized why. The chair had been moved closer to his bed, and sitting in it, with eyes closed and head resting at an uncomfortable angle against the wall, was Victoria.

Rowan stared at her, listening to the constant beeping of his heart and the distant whirring of some other machine nearby. Two cuts on her face had been cleaned and bandaged, and several bruises in various shades decorated what skin was visible underneath her loose band shirt and jeans. More time passed until he sheepishly realized he should probably let her know he was awake.

“Hey,” he said, wincing. Speaking hurt a lot more than he thought it would. It didn’t help that his throat felt like sandpaper. The oxygen mask fogged up when he talked and muffled the sound slightly. “I think this place is haunted.”

Victoria started awake, blinking rapidly as her eyes readjusted to the bright lights. “Oh—uh—you’re awake!” She gasped out when she noticed him staring at her.

“Uh… yeah.” He slowly inhaled, trying not to disturb his injuries. “...Did what’s-her-name break my ribs?”

“Yeah. Pretty badly, from what the doctors told us. They’ve had you on some pretty strong painkillers for hours now.”

“...ah… that would explain the ghost I saw.”

She squinted at him. “You saw a ghost?”

“Uhuh. Came right through that wall over there.” He lifted his right hand to point at the spot where it had emerged. “And passed through the wall behind me.”

Victoria stared at the wall he indicated. “Well…” she said softly, “I was about to tell you it was the painkillers, ghosts aren’t real, but I honestly don’t know what’s supposed to be real and what isn’t any more.” She turned back to him. “You weren’t really in a coherent state when we managed to get you here. All the blunt force trauma messed you up pretty badly. What do you remember of the fight?”

Rowan grimaced. “I remember Granite or whatever-her-name-was got pretty pissed off when I kept dodging the big rocks she was throwing, so she focused her efforts solely on me… and I saw Sam… and then…” he shrugged and immediately regretted it. “Ugh… think those painkillers are wearing off… where is Sam anyway? And Ollie?”

“Waiting room,” Victoria said casually. Standing, she stretched, making a face as her sore muscles and bruises protested. “They wouldn’t let us in at all, at first, but we insisted. They only relented on the condition it was one at a time and we wouldn’t try to wake you up. Ollie’s gonna be so mad when he finds out you woke up and he wasn’t there.” She glanced at the door. “Speaking of… I should let the nurses know you’re awake.”

She crossed the room to the door before pausing with one hand on the knob. “Don’t… do anything stupid.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Since when have I done anything stupid?”

Victoria smirked and left the room, the door silently shutting behind her. Rowan settled back and focused on breathing with as little pain as he could manage. An impossible task, perhaps, but doable. Once he got another dose of pain meds.

(Rowan and Victoria are from a project I'm currently referring to as my teen superhero story. They appear in another story that I haven't posted here yet but will eventually.)

[theasexualwriterrat]

Safety

Aaron holding Gage’s hand through an emotional flashback, Gage being present and grounding for Aaron during a paranoid episode. Ashes is an ever-looming threat in their lives, and Gage’s past and present haunt him every waking moment. a moment of reprieve in the storm.

(click for quality)

[theasexualwriterrat]

Sedatives

@medwhumpmay Day 6

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: vampire caretaker, sedation, major character death, angst, comfort (bittersweet), begging

the caretaker in this one is very bellamy-inspired (can i make an oc inspired by another oc?) but the setting is very different

-

Oh dear.

The human laid broken on the floor of the abandoned shop, each ratting breath looking a chore. They looked up with terrified eyes settled right on him, but didn’t make even an attempt at getting away. Their limbs bent in unnatural directions, bone even poking out in places, spilling blood wastefully over the tile.

“Please,” the human rasped, “No more.”

Caretaker knelt down beside the poor thing, eliciting a whimper from their abused throat. “No more,” he agreed. “Hush, it’s alright. I’m not with whoever did this to you.”

“Vampires,” the human explained with a shudder. The shudder seemed to hurt them, a small cry escaping with the slight movement.

Awful. The ruffians hadn’t even given their victim venom. Or at least, not nearly enough.

Caretaker reached out to cup the human’s tear-stained face. Another whimper, and they trembled under his touch, but he was sure to be extra gentle. He could not bear for the last touch this creature would ever feel to be violent.

“I’m not going to harm you,” he assured them, softly stroking their cheek with a thumb. “I know it hurts. I’m sorry my kind were so cruel to you. I can make it hurt less, if you’d like. I can offer you venom so you may pass painlessly.”

They looked up at him pitifully, voice breaking. “I’m going to die?”

“I’m afraid so.” Frankly, with the state the human was in, Caretaker was surprised they weren’t dead already. “There is nothing that can be done. But I’d like to make it easier, if I can.”

With some hesitation, they hummed their agreement. “Okay,” they rasped.

They didn’t seem all that surprised by the dying, at least.

“I’ll need to bite you,” Caretaker warned. “I won’t drink; it will be very quick.”

The human whined, but choked out another “Okay.”

Caretaker released the human’s face, trying to do this as delicately as possible, moving them as little as they could. They decided to go for the upper arm: the human’s sleeves had been torn off and disposed of beside them, and that seemed to be a spot of less pain for the humans he’d encountered.

He hardly bit down, just enough to barely reach the veins, but the human gasped. He released as much venom as he could, far more than he usually would, and pulled back.

He didn’t bother to pull a bandage out of his pack. It would be about as effective as sticking one on the collapsed building next door. He just went back to cradling the human’s face. “That should start to take care of the pain rather quickly.”

Even as he said it, he could feel the human relaxing under his touch, the tension bleeding out of them alongside the rest of it. “Thank you.” Their eyes started to flutter closed, but they opened them again. “Will–will you stay? Until…?”

“Of course. I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” Caretaker put it.

That seemed to satisfy the human. They leaned into him, their body surely no longer screaming with every twitch.

“There you are. It’s almost over, I’ve got you.” With his free arm, he pulled the poor thing into his lap, which was at least softer than the floor. They didn’t even whimper this time.

Their eyes really did close this time, but they weren’t dead, their heart still beating shallowly in Caretaker’s keen ears. He stayed like that for what must have been twenty minutes, murmuring comforts he wasn’t sure they could hear, until that heart gave out into silence.

“Well,” Caretaker said, his voice still low and soft. “That was depressing.”

He carefully placed the human back on the floor. He knew it didn’t matter anymore, they couldn’t feel it, but being rough with them still felt like it would be wrong.

Caretaker began to unpack his supplies. Much of the blood had spilled, but he could collect from tile, and he was reluctant to let any of it go to waste. Maybe if he mixed it with what was left in the human’s body, he could ignore the floor-taste. Whoever had done this was a short-sighted fool for not seeing the direction the world was going. Humans would not be so easy to find for much longer.

“Thank you,” he whispered, before beginning to collect.

-

Oneshots taglist:

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@whuarri

@reborrowing

@paperprinxe

@what-if-i-just-did

Everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

@whumpy-wyrms

@all-hail-pigeons

@wolfeyedwitch

@starfields08000

@jumpywhumpywriter

[theasexualwriterrat]

Unhealed Wounds Your Character Pretends Are Just “Personality Traits”

These are the things your character claims are just “how they are” but really, they’re bleeding all over everyone and calling it a vibe.

╰ They say they're "independent." Translation: They don’t trust anyone to stay. They learned early that needing people = disappointment. So now they call it “being self-sufficient” like it’s some shiny badge of honor. (Mostly to cover up how lonely they are.)

╰ They say they're "laid-back." Translation: They stopped believing their wants mattered. They'll eat anywhere. Do anything. Agree with everyone. Not because they're chill, but because the fight got beaten out of them a long time ago.

╰ They say they're "a perfectionist." Translation: They believe mistakes make them unlovable. Every typo. Every bad hair day. Every misstep feels like proof that they’re worthless. So they polish and polish and polish... until there’s nothing real left.

╰ They say they're "private." Translation: They’re terrified of being judged—or worse, pitied. Walls on walls on walls. They joke about being “mysterious” while desperately hoping no one gets close enough to see the mess behind the curtain.

╰ They say they're "ambitious." Translation: They think achieving enough will finally make the emptiness go away. If they can just get the promotion, the award, the validation—then maybe they’ll finally outrun the feeling that they’re fundamentally broken. (It never works.)

╰ They say they're "good at moving on." Translation: They’re world-class at repression. They’ll cut people out. Bury heartbreak. Pretend it never happened. And then wonder why they wake up at 3 a.m. feeling like they're suffocating.

╰ They say they're "logical." Translation: They’re terrified of their own feelings. Emotions? Messy. Dangerous. Uncontrollable. So they intellectualize everything to avoid feeling anything real. They call it rationality. (It's fear.)

╰ They say they're "loyal to a fault." Translation: They mistake abandonment for loyalty. They stay too long. Forgive too much. Invest in people who treat them like an afterthought, because they think walking away makes them "just as bad."

╰ They say they're "resilient." Translation: They don't know how to ask for help without feeling like a burden. They wear every bruise like a trophy. They survive things they should never have had to survive. And they call it strength. (But really? It's exhaustion wearing a cape.)

[theasexualwriterrat]

Pirate Whump

salty air and harsh wood rubbing on wounds, making them worse.

manual labor as a punishment, scrubbing the deck all night until whumpee’s back aches and their knees are raw.

lashings. good ol’ lashings.

Whumpee, an important passenger on another ship, gets captured by pirates and taken hostage.

tossed in the brig, a dark, dingy, cramped space with chains and metal bars.

drowning!

a sword pressed against their throat as they’re presented to the captain. (forced to kneel??)

Forced to join the crew and doing their chores with shackles on their ankles.

Strapped to the main mast, exposed to the elements (and the cut throat crew) and completely at their mercy.

Stuck in the crow’s nest (especially during a storm)

A new peg leg. Might seem silly but I’d like to see YOU laugh while walking on a chunk of wood with a newly healing leg stump.

cant think of anything else rn but feel free to add on!

my taglist is open by the way ;)

@toads-and-gremlins

@whump-till-ya-jump

@herhighnessthegoblinqueen

@scoundrelwithboba

[theasexualwriterrat]

Mermay 2025 Series Part 1

Happy Mermay! I hope you enjoy!

Caretaker entered the lab with Whumper and Assistant. It was time for the daily inspection.

“All right,” Whumper said, approaching the tank, “retrieve a blood sample, Assistant.”

Whumper and Caretaker both hauled their specimen out of the tank and onto an exam table. The mer stared up at them with wide, frightened eyes. They thrashed about as Whumper tightened several straps across their body.

“Do they need to be that tight?” Caretaker asked.

“Do you want to get scratched again by an unknown species?” Whumper answered.

Caretaker shrugged, the bandages peeking through their sleeve.

“It’s a reasonable response.”

Assistant approached with a needle. The mer screeched through their gag, struggling with renewed fervor.

“Easy, easy,” Caretaker soothed, “it’s just a small pinch. You’re going to be fine.”

“You don’t need to talk to it all the time, you know,” Whumper remarked, holding the mer still.

Assistant cleaned the mer’s skin with an alcohol pad, and then inserted the needle past their skin. They started to draw vial after vial of blood. The mer whimpered, beginning to grow still on the table.

“Easy, easy,” Caretaker said, “Whumper, they’re looking a little green around the gills- er, pardon the expression- they’re going to pass out.”

“It can take it,” Whumper replied, “just one more.”

Assistant finished up, sticking a waterproof bandaid over the injection site. The mer’s breathing was shallow, their skin taking on a sickly pale hue. Caretaker waited a few minutes before adjusting the table so they were sitting up just a bit. Caretaker went to remove the gag.

Whumper’s hand shot out and gripped Caretaker’s wrist.

“Are you insane!?” Whumper hissed, “it’ll just use its siren song again!”

“Then plug your ears, it needs to eat something not from an IV pole!”

Caretaker wrenched their hand from Whumper’s grip and removed the gag. They pressed a straw to the mer’s lips.

“It’s just juice,” Caretaker said, hoping their smile was reassuring, “it’s safe.”

The mer hesitated, then started to drink. Their eyes lit up despite their blood loss.

“Assistant,” Caretaker said, “bring me some seaweed chips from the cabinet.”

Assistant scurried off, returning with the bag of seaweed chips. Caretaker opened it, offering one to the mer.

They took it, tilting their head. They popped it into their mouth, then smiled.

“It’s not bad,” the mer said, “not exactly the same as home’s though…”

Caretaker, Whumper, and Assistant exchanged glances. The mer could articulate human speech!? Assistant scribbled something on their clipboard.

“How do you know our language?” Caretaker asked in awe.

“I..I listen,” the mer said.

“Could be parroting,” Whumper reasoned, “we need to study this further.”

“More tests?” the mer asked, their expression morphing into a mixture of sadness and anxiety.

Whumper ruffled the mer’s hair.

“This is quite the breakthrough, well done, Caretaker.”

“Yeah… quite the breakthrough…” Caretaker mumbled.

If the mer was capable of human speech, then they were likely on a similar level of intelligence. The implications were concerning to say the least. Had they crossed a line? Surely this couldn’t be ethical.

…

After putting the mer back in their tank, Whumper, Caretaker, and Assistant deliberated in a separate room.

“It isn’t human!” Whumper argued, “it’s just mimicking human speech patterns! All kinds of species can do that!”

“This isn’t parroting, they’re saying things we haven’t said in front of them,” Caretaker countered.

“Unless some other humans got to it before us,” Assistant said.

“I highly doubt that- they’re not even tagged. Listen, we’ve obviously overlooked something. They’re intelligent, they’re human, they’re-”

“It is not human! It is some kind of aquatic mammal that has physical traits resembling a homo sapien! Are gorillas human, Caretaker? Are chimpanzees?”

“This is clearly different-”

“We are going to do what we are paid to do, rather than playing the old ‘what is a man’ game. Apparently, according to you, a plucked chicken is human!”

With that, Whumper stormed off, Assistant trailing awkwardly behind them. Caretaker huffed, looking back at the lab door. They needed answers, and more importantly, the mer did, too.

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Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm@memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @electrons2006 @just-a-space-rabbit @telltaletoad @bacillusinfection @noseyowes @whump-till-ya-jump @writinglittlepains @m4iloblu3

[theasexualwriterrat]

what the actual fuck though

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

[theasexualwriterrat]

Could you do some forced medical whump with feral whumpee?

tw: hospital stuff, mention of blood and restraint

whumpee, who doesn’t trust caretaker or any doctor / nurses, somehow manages to get their hands on a scalpel. “don’t come any closer,” whumpee snarls with their back against the wall, though their hand — that is holding the scalpel — is shaking.

whumpee being held down to the ground by the hospital staff / security guards after they tried to attack the doctor and nurses.

whumpee forcefully pulling an IV drip out of their hand, causing them to bleed.

whumpee tearing off their bandages or reopening their stitches, and in result, they need immediate medical attention.

whumpee — who’s delirious, not lucid, still groggy from the anesthetic or is still too weak — tries to escape the hospital only for them to run straight into a glass door, causing the shards to cut through their skin. and them lying half conscious on the ground, bleeding. caretaker / nurses having to quickly rush them back to the emergency room. (I’m sure I’ve seen an episode of The Resident where this happened.)

whumpee having to be sedated when they need to have their blood drawn, because otherwise they will attack the nurse / caretaker.

whumpee fighting and pulling at the restraint until their wrists bleed.

whumpee in a straight jacket looking at caretaker, doctors or nurses with defiance in their eyes. a classic one.

doctors / nurses / caretaker having to sedate whumpee to prevent them from hurting others and themself.

nurses / caretaker holding whumpee’s jaw to force their mouth open, while other placing their hands on whumpee’s forehead to help tilt whumpee’s head backward, as whumpee’s being force fed or undergoing a procedure that required a tube being inserted in their throat.

these are what I can think of off the top of my head. if anybody has anything they’d like to add, please don’t hesitate to do so! medical whump is one of my all time favorites and is actually what got me into the whump community 🥹

[theasexualwriterrat]

Lovely allergen ep 4

brother is step btw lol

[theasexualwriterrat]

A king who doesn't really want to and isn't able to run the kingdom properly catches wind of a noble woman who wants to kill him to take over and he realizes she is extremely competent so he decides to propose to her to save everyone the hassle and they have a surprisingly healthy relationship.

[theasexualwriterrat]

Prompt (555)

"How long was I out?" The hero asked groggily, rubbing their head.

"About a day," the villain said. "I changed your clothes and washed you and stuff. You were covered in ash from the explosion. You would have been burned to a crisp without your powers."

The hero sat up and looked down at their hands. They were pristine. Also. . .their nails were painted. The hero sent a questioning look the villain's way, holding up their hand.

"You were asleep for 30 hours! I got bored!" The villain said defensively.