#rough caretaking

Content warning: gunshot wound, rough caretaking

“Damnit, why the hell would you do that?!”

“I didn’t–I–,” Hero only stuttered in response, barely understandable. They were practically limp at Villain’s side, arm draped over Villain’s shoulder as they were dragged through the wilderness surrounding Supervillain’s forest.

Hero’s breath was coming out in panicked, choked wheezes, eyes wide and distant. Each frantic beat sent another gush of blood down their body, dripping from Hero’s side to fill the space between Hero’s and Villain’s bodies. Villain could feel the blood beginning to drip down their leg.

“I don’t need you to take a damn bullet for me! Not when we have no idea what Supervillain is capable of!” Villain hissed, voice tight.

“I don’t know why this is happening–!” Hero squeaked, a half scream. Their usual confidence was shattered, replaced with a genuine, raw fear that put Villain’s teeth on edge.

Villain didn’t know why it was happening either. Hero had taken far, far worse than a bullet without so much as bruising. A bullet should’ve been nothing to them. That fact was the only reason Villain had agreed to their teamup to defeat Supervillain. Hero was there to act like their shield, a big, dumb wall of muscle between Supervillain’s men and Villain.

So when Hero, that ever smug grin plastered onto their face, had swooped in between Villain and the barrel of Supvervillain’s gun, Villain’s only concern was the self-satisfied comments they would have to endure for allowing Hero to save their life.

They hadn’t expected shock to replace Hero’s grin. They hadn’t expected Hero to drop to the ground like a rock at their feet, eyes wide as red spread across their torso. They hadn’t expected a gleeful cackle from Supervillain, nor that the next sound to come out of Hero would be a scream.

And now they were running, dragging Hero’s half-limp body through the forest, Supervillain’s henchmen on their tails. They would die out here, hunted like simple prey animals, if something didn’t change soon.

“We’re stopping here,” Villain abruptly spoke, stopping when they found a small clearing. They moved over towards a fallen tree and, ignoring Hero’s cries of protest, rearranged their body to rest in a sitting position.

Hero’s body shook with effort as they tried to sit down. Their strength failed them halfway through, knees buckling and nearly sending them crumbling roughly to the ground. When they were finally positioned against the tree, Hero’s hands instantly moved to cover their injury.

Villain kneeled down and batted the hands away. Hero’s bloodied fingers still hovered anxiously near their torso.

It looked like a normal bullet wound, a fact that itself put Villain’s nerves on edge. Blood poured insistently from it, the red stain spreading with each second. Hero wouldn’t survive losing blood at that rate for long.

Villain leaned closer, until their eyes caught a flash of light. In the darkness of the forest, Villain could see something flashing a dull, unnatural green inside the wound. Whatever Supervillain had created to attack Hero with, it was still inside.

“I’m going to take the bullet out. Hold still.”

“W-what?! No-nononono I don’t–,” Panic instantly gripped Hero, their already paleing face nearly turning sheet white. They attempted to stumble to their feet, only to crumple back down with a choked gasp. “I’ve taken worse than this! Just–don’t touch it!”

“You have taken worse. I’ve personally thrown worse at you, and I’ve never once seen you bleed,” Villain pulled away for a moment, digging through their toolbelt to find anything they could use. “Something is wrong. Whatever bullet Supervillain made, it’s nullifying your powers. We have to remove it; you’ll either bleed out or be killed by Supervillain’s forces otherwise.”

“No!” Desperation laced the shout, so raw that Villain couldn’t help but stare at Hero in shock. Hero’s eyes were wild with terror as they squeezed their body against the tree, as if they could sink into the wood and hide away.

“I–I’ve never had to do anything like this! Nothing–,” tears were flowing unbidden now, leaving Hero to gasp pitifully. “Nothing’s ever hurt me! It’s gonna hurt, oh god it’s gonna hurt…I can’t do it!”

For a moment, Villain only stared, taken aback at hearing Hero, brave and obnoxious Hero, blubbering like a civilian.

The cruel part of their nature wanted to laugh. Here was their brave nemesis, someone who flew into danger without a second thought, who had faced countless enemies without fear, sniveling like a child at the doctor’s office. It was laughable, that Hero would be so terrified by something as simple as pain.

But the true terror, so foreign on Hero’s features, killed any humor Villain could feel at the situation.

It was very possible that Hero was right, that they’d truly never experienced something so natural as pain. When would they have, when even deadly force did nothing but inconvenience them? If a building falling on them couldn’t cause a bruise, what chance did everyday life have of harming them?

Hero had spent years, perhaps their entire lives, flying above the woes of mankind, immune to the pain they fought to protect others from. They’d simply never been hurt. And now their first taste of that so natural of hardships came in the form of a bullet lodged in their side.

For a brief moment Villain envied their usual immunity. For a much longer moment, they pitied Hero for their ignorance.

But they didn’t have time for pity.

“Please!” Hero sobbed, “Please, just leave it! It hurts, it’ll hurt–,”

“Look at me,” With rough hands, Villain grabbed Hero’s chin, silencing their pleas. They forced Hero’s tearful gaze forward. Terrified, shining eyes meeting Villain’s own determined glare.

“Yes, it will hurt. It’s going to hurt like hell, and you’re going to act like the damn hero you claim to be and take it. Do you understand me?” Villain didn’t break their stare for a moment. “I am not letting you die here. Supervillain doesn’t deserve the privilege of ending you. It is going to hurt, and you are going to endure it and save both our asses. Alright?”

For a long moment, Villain thought Hero would continue to fight them. They were still trembling, jaw shaking with muffled sobs, tears dripping onto Villain’s hand. Their whimpers were the only sound in the clearing.

But then something shifted in their eyes. It was not their usual strength or determination, it wasn’t bravery. It was something tearful and weak, but so trusting that it nearly knocked Villain off their feet.

So faintly that Villain almost mistook it for a tremor, Hero nodded. Villain nodded back.

They made quick work of preparing themselves. They turned to grab a handful of their cape, quickly tearing several strips to act as bandages. They scanned the forest floor and, after a moment of searching, found what they were looking for.

They brushed the dirt from a nearby stick, and presented it to Hero.

“Here, bite down on this. You’ll need it.”

Hero didn’t reach to grab the offered gag. Arms still pinned to their torso, Hero opened their mouth, leaning forward only slightly. Not unkindly, Villain placed the wood between their teeth. Hero bit down.

Gently, Villain moved Hero's body to the forest floor, laying them flat to expose their wound. Hero whined, low and pained, but their eyes never left Villain.

Villain returned to their toolbelt. After a moment of digging in their toolbelt, they found what they were looking for. A pair of long, thin tweezers, usually used for handling delicate wires, was held in their fingers. It would have to do.

Villain pulled themselves closer, trapping Hero’s legs with their own so they could sit over them, giving themselves full access to the injury. “Now, I need you to let me see your hands.”

Hesitantly, Hero’s hands moved instead to rest against Villain’s knees. They squeezed, grip tight.

Villain reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Hero’s face.

Contents: gunshot wound, bleeding, rough caretaking

Chuuya only knew something was gravely wrong when Dazai stiffened imperceptibly.  The mere breaths of space between them let him feel the minor intake of air.  It was all the telegraphing he needed to know 1) there was a sniper ahead of them, 2) there was no room to maneuver without touching Dazai to take it out.

Chuuya yanked Dazai down by the collar of his trench coat and leapt over him.  A small flare of light came from the mouth of the tunnel.  Chuuya’s forward movement stuttered and pain knifed through his shoulder, but then he regained his momentum and flashed down the tunnel like a projectile from a railgun.

He stretched out his hand to the metal of a rifle barrel.  Gravity wrenched the sniper into the tunnel and pulverized his body with a crunch.  Chuuya landed and let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.  Then his knees buckled, and with a choked shout, he slumped to the ground.

“Chuuya!”

He could hear Dazai’s shoes slapping up the tunnel, and the crunch of gravel as he skidded to a stop.  “Chuuya!”  Dazai knelt behind him and gingerly grasped his shoulders.  Even though the touch was light, Chuuya jerked forward with a pained gasp.

“Don’t touch me!”  Blood was soaking through his shirt and vest, staining the fabric bright red.

“We need to stop the bleeding.”  Dazai wrenched his partner backwards onto his lap, and Chuuya’s breath stuttered as he bit back a whimper of pain.  He picked up Chuuya’s hand and placed it over his wound.  “Can you hold?”

Chuuya grit his teeth and clamped his hand over the pulsing injury, blood seeping out and coating his palm in seconds.  His breath came in little abbreviated hitches, short and rapid, as if holding his breath would stop the pain pounding through his body.  He was sure his vision was going dark, until he saw Dazai poke his head back into view, blocking out the dark tunnel roof.

“When that guy fails to check in, they’re going to know we’re here.  They’ll send more men to take us out.  We can’t stay here.”  Dazai’s words were punctuated by rips and tears.  He had swiped Chuuya’s knife from its sheath and was cutting long strips from his coat.  “We’ll get you a makeshift bandage now, and when we reach one of the Mafia’s supply drops, we’ll get you a proper one.  Are you with me?”

“Ye-yeah.  Just do it.”

Dazai reached up and removed Chuuya’s hand, replacing it swiftly with a large wad of cloth.  He pressed firmly into the wound.  Chuuya threw his head back and yelled.  At the same time, Dazai pushed another bundle against the exit wound near the top of Chuuya’s shoulder blade.  Chuuya screamed and tried to writhe his way off of Dazai’s lap.  His partner held him down and started to wrap long strips tightly around the makeshift compresses.  Under, over, under – Dazai bound Chuuya’s arm to his torso, and his forearm up in a makeshift sling.  Heavy coat fabric swathed Chuuya’s collarbone and across his chest.  When he was done, Chuuya was sweaty and shaking.

Read the rest on A03.   Please reblog if you like it.

Chained to a bed:

Whumpee: Assassin  Reluctant Caretaker: Villain

Assassin wasn’t sure how it happened, how Sidekick had just turned and shot them like that when they'd been perching silently above them and Villain. It wasn't their shadow, that hadn't made noise and they certainly didn't smell that bad. They didn't understand, but the next thing they knew they had gasped in pain and had fallen far to the ground beneath them, tight in front of their two targets.

Villain had approached cautiously and turned them over onto their back. Trying to get up only resulted with a boot pressing into their left shoulder, thankfully away from the gun wound on their right. Assassin winced and could only let unconsciousness take them.

They'd woken up with a knotting sensation in their stomach and chains around their body. Chains felt excessive, they were cold and nipped if Assassin tried to move, especially since their shirt was gone, but they were on a bed, and that was a welcome comfort. Their shoulder, although bandaged throbbed, and their wrist was tied to the very top of their thigh with a thin but strong rope. Their other wrist was shackled above their head, their ankles too were trapped in metal. A few extra chains that wrapped around their body was the finishing touch, one over their chest and arms, and the next across their thighs. 

Assassin didn't bother trying to escape. Hell, they wouldn’t have been able  They felt awful, full of dread and anxiety. It was easier to lie still and focus on their breathing. To try and gather themselves for whatever was going to happen next.

They heard the door open and opened one eye. "You decided what you're going to do with me?"

Villain put a large plastic box down on a nearby table.

"Yes actually."

Assassin raised an eyebrow but they were deeply on edge, "anything kinky or just screaming and pain?"

"I'm unfortunately making sure you live."

Assassin screwed up their face. "Hm, so a compromise I guess. I’d rather you stabbed me and got this over with."

“Oh, believe me, me too.”

Villain started preparing everything cleaning a sewing needle and getting bandages and padding ready. Assassin shuffled uncomfortably and winced with every twitch.

"The gunshot is sorted, but you're still covered in gashes, I'm guessing from where you killed seventeen of my men?"

"I asked nicely for them to move," Assassin said coldly. "How the hell did you know I was there?"

"[Sidekick] has foresight. They can see just a little way into the future. It often foils a killer's plans."

Villain moved in with the cleaning products toward a large gash on Villains gut. "You'd pay for it dearly, but first I need your abilities, your talents, so you don't get to die."

"Hey, I'm not a doll to pass around!" Assassin retorted.

"Stay still and try to relax. This is going to hurt and I’m not in the mood for you making this difficult5rt." Villain began to swathe the wound, gradually getting the dried blood and grime off. It took a lot of rough wiping and antiseptic to clean it. Villain didn't care much for the pain they caused. Assassin cried out despite themselves but they could escape the stinging, their anxiety. They wanted out!

"I suppose hearing your pain is the beginning of a suitable retribution," they mumbled.

Assassin tried to move their torso out of Villain's reach, out the way if the flaring pain, but obviously without success with those damned chains. They threw their head back and did their best to hold back their pain. They didn't want Villain near them, having them so close, touching their skin, healing them? It felt so wrong, whether they were being rough or not. They were so tired, so weak, they just wanted sleep.

The only rest they got was when Villain stitched the wound closed. It was less painful than the cleaning solution. It had their eyes watering.

Villain smirked. "Only seven to go."

Content warning: painful healing, temporary Whumpee death

The magic burned through them like lighting. Their body jerked with the feeling, spasming as once dead nerves were thrust back into new life. The feeling moved from their limbs inward, centering around a throbbing pain in their chest.

The magic focused on their heart. Whumpee felt phantom fingers circle their heart and press, forcing it to beat once more.

Whumpee’s mouth opened in a silent scream. They couldn’t breathe.

“Hurry, damnit!” There was a face above them. They were shouting, panic and exhaustion lacing their words. “I don’t–I can’t bring them back too many more times.” They felt hands digging into their shoulders, shaking.

“I’m trying!” Another voice, tense with concentration, responded.

The world smelled like burnt meat. Whumpee could see nothing but smoke in the sky, ash falling like snow. The forest was burning around them.

Through their tears, Whumpee saw a glow. Soft, warm, unlike the red of flames creeping in.

Glowing fingers dug themselves into the broken and bleeding hole in Whumpee’s chest, and Whumpee’s world went white with agony.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Someone was speaking again. Something wet dripped onto Whumpee’s face.

They could hear it. They could hear their bones snapping into place, feel burnt and dead flesh becoming raw and bloody. They could feel months worth of healing happening within seconds, concentrated and agonizing. It felt like their body was being torn apart all over again.

Whumpee felt their lungs, burnt beyond any natural means of repair, reform within their chest. They inhaled, shaking and desperate, and felt their lungs press into a pair of hands.

Whumpee screamed.

“Just a little longer, okay? You’re doing so good–,” the voice near their head spoke, voice trembling. Whumpee felt a hand brush against their cheek, wiping away tears.

Whumpee’s head lulled limply on their neck. They wheezed, and tasted nothing but ash and blood on their tongue.

“No Whumpee please! Just hold on–,”

The sound was fading, the world turning dark. The pain was becoming distant. Whumpee embraced it.

The world faded out, and Whumpee felt themselves die. Something grabbed them. Not their body, broken and laying dead on the forest floor. Something grabbed them, the soul that had finally separated from their flesh. It dragged them down, a vice-like grip dragging them back towards that inferno. Dragging them into that broken, burnt shell they’d just escaped. Bringing the pain closer. Whumpee couldn’t fight it.

Whumpee opened their eyes, body lurching, as magic willed their heart to beat once more.

“Please!” Whumpee sobbed. They just wanted it to stop.

“Just a bit more!” Those hands on their shoulders tightened, and Whumpee felt their magic tethering them to their body. “You’ll stabilize soon, you just need to hold on so they can heal you-!”

Caretakers having to betray their whumpee to save them.

Caretaker holding Whumpee down as Medic performs emergency, non-medicated treatment. Offering useless words of comfort as Whumpee struggles, curses, and sobs. 

Caretaker drugging Whumpee’s food because they refuse to rest, even as their body is falling apart. 

Caretaker keeping their eyes cold as Whumpee begs them for help, knowing that breaking cover would doom them both. Even then, the confused and hurt look in Whumpee’s eyes as they walked away haunts them. 

Caretaker using Whumpee's training from Whumper's against them, ordering them to flee danger in the same harsh tone Whumper had trained them to obey. Whumpee's legs move faster than their mind can follow. 

*:･ﾟ✧ SURPRISE  *:･ﾟ✧

[Masterlist]

CW: Whumper hospital, captive, restrained, manhandled, whumper turning caretaker, escape, annggssstt

A camera turned until it fixated on ‘the patient’. The patient who restlessly paced the small room back and forth, the camera keeping up with them like a spotlight. 

Whumpee stopped when the door started banging. They breathed shaken breath and put their back to the wall, their body aching in what was sure to be another series of ungentle tests. 

Whumper shoved their way inside and slammed the door behind them, shaking the wall whumpee had their back to as they jumped away from it. Without so much a hello, whumper grabbed both of their arms and pulled whumpee an inch from their face. 

“We’re leaving. Now. Right now.” Whumper hissed in their ear.