#straightjackets

Captain Marvel Adventures #56, March 1946. C. C. Beck cover pencils & inks.

Thank you so much for the ask! For this ask game. 

CW//Straightjackets, struggling, being held down

“I know, honey. I’m so sorry. I’m so, sorry sorry, baby.”

Caretaker’s soft words were not lies-- the fondness they felt was genuine. That didn’t make their racing heartbeat any less real, however.

The sound that emanated from Whumpee’s throat did not sound like a noise that was meant to come from a human. It was more animal than human, certainly, but it was even too aggressive to be called animal. It was almost monstrous.

That was what their original rescuer’s had called them-- a monster.

Whumpee was not a monster, Caretaker knew that better than anyone. They were just scared. But, that fear was undeniably dangerous.

The terror in their eyes was accompanied by bared teeth as Whumpee backed further into their corner. Every few moments, their nervous gaze would flick about, before settling back on Caretaker.

They were so, so scared. But, their wounds needed to be examined, and if they weren’t going to go willingly, then another option would simply have to do.

“You don’t have to be scared, sweetheart, I promise.”

Caretaker took a tiny, cautious step forth. Whumpee scrambled, trying desperately to get further back in their corner, but their spine was already firmly pressed against the wall.

Instead, they simply growled louder.

“You just need to put this jacket on, okay? It’ll be like... Have you ever used a weighted blanket? It’ll be just like that. Like a big hug.”

If Whumpee heard their words, they did not react to them. But, they saw the canvas straightjacket that Caretaker carried, and they recognized it fully. That much was clear by their expression.

It was all for their own good. They needed this.

“Just hold still, baby. I’m gonna put this on you, now. Everything is gonna be okay, I promise.”

They could only hope that Whumpee didn’t see their hand’s furious trembling as they reached it forward, inch by inch, until it was laid atop their hair.

Whumpee growled, but stayed still.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s okay. Just relax, and I’ll put this nice jacket on you, sweetie.”

They ran their fingers through their hair a moment, hoping beyond hope that it would calm them, before withdrawing their hand.

At least the snarling was quieter, now.

“Let’s get this on now.” They painted their face with their very kindest smile. “It’s gonna help you relax. Just like a big blanket.”

They unfolded the straightjacket.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby.”

Caretaker lunged.

The furious struggle could only truly be accurately described as a tangle of limbs, or perhaps a cacophony of screeching. When it was all over, Caretaker had a countless number of new scars, and Whumpee lay whimpering on the floor-- arms tightly bound to their torso by thick canvas and leather straps.

Caretaker reached out once more, using the straightjacket’s chest straps as leverage to force their ward to their feet, though they fought it all the way.

Whumpee shook so hard they could barely keep their balance.

(not) safe for work! per usual

cw:  dom/sub lifestyle, stockholm syndrome, mentions of murder, and straightjackets.

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