bacillusinfection

[bacillusinfection]

Caretaker had never been interested in having kids. At every family reunion, people would eventually come round to ask, “so, when do you think you’ll start having children?”

The answer would always be the same. Never. They’re a lot of hassle, and considering caretaker’s line of work, it probably wouldn’t be a safe environment for a kid. Then, eventually, the disgruntled aunts and nagging uncles would quieten down and go back to obnoxiously chewing on their food, occasionally making a snide remark about a cousin or nephew.

It was 2:43 in the morning, or so the glaring alarm clock said. Caretaker groaned slightly as they turned, half asleep still. Normally, they slept through the night with ease, routinely going to bed at a reasonably mature time, and waking up to the beeping of the morning alarm like clockwork.

But, this time, it was loud in the house. Quiet murmurs and tentative footsteps had woken caretaker up, purely from the fact that they simply weren’t used to it. Caretaker was happily single and childless, as well as not owning any pets or really being of an age where sleepovers were considered anything but childish. On any other night, the house was silent through and through, but tonight was different.

A knock on the bedroom door brought Caretaker out of their thoughts. A grunted ‘come in’ was all Caretaker could respond with, and as soon as the words left their lips, the door creaked open, and faint light poured in. It was Whumpee. Caretaker wasn’t particularly shocked - who else would it be? Still, up until noe Whumpee had been adamant that they were completely fine. When the team had found them, they didn’t whimper or sob or plead. They had to be grappled down in order for Medic to be able to examine them, and when they were told of the severity of their injuries, they simply denied ever even feeling bad.

Ever since Whumpee had been found, they insisted on leaving, and going ‘home’, though nobody was particularly sure where ‘home’ was, because when asked about family and friends, Whumpee had no answer. But, the team couldn’t just let the kid go, partially because they were far too young to be fending for themselves, and partially because this was the closest to Whumper they had ever gotten. Could they really risk losing their only clue?

Sleeping in the HQ wasn’t an option for Whumpee, they were tense back there, snappy and hostile. Staying overnight wouldn’t have done any good. Most of the team had to set off on an emergency mission that was far too dangerous for someone as fragile as Whumpee. Medic and Caretaker were the only ones who remained, and the former already had kids of their own waiting at home. So, Caretaker it was. They packed up Whumpee’s things, drove them for three hours to get home, and fought to get them settled in the usually abandoned guest room.

And now, they were standing in Caretaker’s doorway. Hesitant. Akin to a child standing at the foot of their parent’s mattress, shaky and looking for comfort after a harrowing nightmare.

“… couldn’t sleep..” Whumpee muttered, looking away bashfully, as though they were embarrassed that they were hurting to the point of having to reach out. Like it was the worst thing they could have done.

Caretaker didn’t react. Perhaps it was the tiredness. Instead, they shuffled and shifted in their bed so that they were upright, and patted down the other half of the bed. An invitation. Whumpee tread closer to the bed in the same way that a stray cat might stagger towards the scent of a stranger. Assessing risks.

It took them a minute to crawl into the bed, but when they did, they were quick to pull up the duvet, clutching at the blanket for warmth. Caretaker hadn’t seen the room Whumpee was being kept in, but based on the look on Leader’s face after they had found them (somewhere between horrified and distressed), they could assume that Whumper had never concerned themselves with Whumpee’s temperature concerns.

Caretaker hadn’t expected Whumpee to relax this much in their room. Sure, Whumpee had taken to them much faster than they had taken to anyone else, and sure everyone on the team had jokingly started calling them the team mother, but those were all jokes. Caretaker wasn’t a parent, and they had made peace with that. Their life wasn’t safe for a child.

Caretaker moved from their sitting position, now lying on their side under the mauve covers. Here, they faced Whumpee, whose eyes were tight shut, and their frail arms tightly shut around the firm, cream pillow. They looked so young; while nobody could find any documents regarding Whumpee’s real identity, it was easy to tell looking at them that they couldn’t be older than late teens.

Hesitantly, Caretaker pushed their hand out and brushed Whumpee’s hair out of their face, fingers gently skimming their forehead. It was hot to touch, like they were a flu-ridden child in the middle of a summertime heatwave. Caretaker couldn’t even fathom what Whumpee had been through to get here. But, if their meagre little townhouse in the middle if nowhere could provide some solace for them, then so be it. Whumpee could sleep wherever they wanted.

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After a long while of fighting against the enemy, the team have finally captured Whumpee, the living weapon on Whumper’s side that’s caused most of the destruction.

The team went to Caretaker’s house whilst they were on vacation, since Leader realised they’d left something at their place and conveniently had been entrusted with the key. There, they found Whumpee, dressed down in baggy civilian clothes, wandering around the house — clearly snooping.

So, they cornered them, and tied them up (albeit quite excessively), already spewing threats and asking invasive questions. Whumpee stayed silent. Since Caretaker was on vacation, Leader decided the best plan of action was to use their house to ‘store’ Whumpee, so they didn’t have to reveal their base location, and surely Caretaker wouldn’t mind their couch being used for interrogation.

A perfect plan, until the front door swung open.

Caretaker, having come back from a supply run to the nearest grocery and pharmacist, stood in both shock and horror, bags dropping to the floor. A few days ago, when the team were on a mission at Whumper’s base, they’d been separated from the others and accidentally stumbled across a dark cell. One which contained a chained up, rather terrified, and definitely injured Whumpee.

They couldn’t just leave them here, not in these conditions. But, Caretaker was worried about the rashness of their teammates, and knew they’d likely worsen the damage done to a clearly traumatised Whumpee (whose actions were now painted in a different light in Caretaker’s eyes). So, they took them home in secret, and booked time off work for an impromptu vacation to at least give them some time to try and nurse Whumpee back to health where the team couldn’t find them.

But they did.

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i love like, pseudosex

erotic vampire bites, magic ritual that feels Very Good to participants, multi-person fusion, mind-meld, sexy mitosis, consensual mindfuck, love-hivemind, being tfed into something or other, that sort of stuff

its hot

[bacillusinfection]

Silent scream

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Yippee ^_^

Art from zine - BTD and BTD 2

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Demon whumper and angel whumpee.

Whumper catches whumpee and puts them in a small cage.

Whumper yanks on whumpee's wings pulling them through the bars.

Whumper plucks feathers off of whumpees back.

Whumper uses demonic magic the brand whumpee in the middle of their back and the middle of their chest or throat.

Whumper burning whumpee's wings.

Whumper forcing whumpee to sing, because a bird needs to sing.

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Hero x Villain living weapon whump snippet

Villain breaks into Hero's super secure base in the early morning with the intention of seeing what it is that they keep in their super secure basement bunker. But when they open the door, they're shocked to find... Hero?

Their nemesis is sitting in the center of the room, surrounded by a large metal cage. Stripped of their armor and sitting cross legged on a sad little cot. Their eyes lock immediately, and Hero's entire face lights up.

"Villain! What are you doing here?" They ask, beaming.

Villain stands frozen for an instant, waiting for an alarm to sound or for Hero to power up and throw them through a wall. When none of that happens, they carefully move into the room.

"Just looking around," they answer, trying not to let on to how baffled they are. They look around the room, taking in the tables and chalkboards lining the walls. Paper is scattered everywhere, from sheaves burdening the tabletops to posters blanketing swaths of the boards. "What, uh, what are you doing in here?"

Inching closer, they can see one poster displaying a humanoid shape, anatomy highlighted inside, annotated with thick lettering. A record of bruised organs, torn muscles, and broken bones. Hero's broken bones.

"Waiting." Hero says lightly.

"What for? Couldn't you get out of there easily?"

"Well yeah, but it isn't time yet."

'Time for what?' Villain thinks as they continue examining the room. More posters, recovery timelines, battle transcripts. Packets of paper reveal experiments on tolerance, intelligence, endurance. Drug trials, the same substance appearing in line after line. Hero's powers were unusual, that wasn't a secret, but this? This was another level.

"You seem oddly cheerful, for the circumstances." They remark, throat dry.

"Why wouldn't I be? You're my best friend!" Hero beamed at them. Villain's heart pounded in their ears.

"Really? It doesn't really- well what I mean is, uh, you don't usually act like it.... You act like you hate me, most of the time."

"The game's no fun if we don't follow our lines. Of course we're friends, aren't we?"

The game. The cage that seemed like it was designed for an animal. Wide, vulnerable eyes staring up at them from a cot that looked more like cardboard than padding.

"Yeah, obviously we're friends." They said, easing into a brighter tone. Hero perked back up, smile as blinding as the flash of a grenade. "Best friends."

Villain made a split-second decision then, hoping they wouldn't regret it later. "Hey, what do you say we get out of here?"

Hero's eyes lit up literally then, and their smile turned sharp right along with the roiling dread in Villain's stomach.

"To play?" They asked.

"No!" Villain exclaimed, then tried to school their tone back into something calm. Trustworthy. "I mean just to go, walk and such. I... have something I want to show you." They lied. Hero frowned, though to Villain's relief, their eyes went dim again.

"I don't know... I'm not supposed to leave if it isn't to play." Hero said glumly. Villain grit their teeth. They had to get Hero out of here.

"Come on, it'll only be for a little bit. Isn't it boring, just waiting in here all night?" Villain coaxed. Hero nodded softly and Villain continued, "It can be our little secret. Between friends. How about it?"

Villain held out one hand to the bars while the other slowly tucked a folder of papers into their coat. Hero was smiling again. Villain tried not to let their hand shake as the question rang out into the depressing room.

Finally, Hero nodded and stood.

"Okay, but only for a little bit. I have to be back before everyone else comes in." They said. In an instant, they shorted out the power-inhibitor collar that Villain hadn't even noticed and phased through the bars of the cage.

"Of course," Villain agreed, lying through their teeth and hoping Hero wouldn't notice their slight nervous tremor at the display of power that clearly even Hero's captors hadn't been prepared for. "we'll have you back by sunrise."

The two of them walked out of the base, skirting around security guards who Hero was quick to believe were 'just sleeping' and out into the cool night air.

That would be the last time Hero set foot in the base of their now shared enemy, Villain swore to themselves. Hero didn't even notice the way Villain hissed under their breath as they went.

They were too distracted by the stars.

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Royal whump is a personal favorite of mine. So allow me to share one of my favorite tropes (that I may or may not be writing about in my free time)...

We all love a good public humiliation whump moment, right? So what I'm thinking is a royal whumpee that's been usurped by a traitorous advisor or taken over by a rival king and kept as a trophy/pet.

They are chained up, collared, leashed, and gagged/muzzled if you prefer, and they are being led through their old kingdom in front of what used to be their subjects. Or they're led through the streets of the rival kingdom they lost to while the subjects laugh at and ridicule them. They're dressed in a humiliating outfit that shows off way too much of their body and they're whipped whenever they walk too slow.

When they reach the town square, they are forced to kneel beside their new master as he addresses his people. As he degrades and mocks the former royal, they try to hide their face, but he yanks on their leash and forces them to look up. Maybe he even takes out their gag and forces them to address the people as well.

I'm sure this is already a fairly common trope, but I can't stop thinking about it. It's just so deliciously humiliating😈

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bad dog 2024

edited this one a bit, redrew the hands because they bothered me in particular

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Uncaring Caretaker

A caretaker who’s rough and doesn’t care about boundaries or mental states. They know that Whumpee needs to shower, and they make Whumpee take a shower. It doesn’t matter if Whumpee is scared that Caretaker would drown them. Caretaker just grabs them and puts them in the shower, deaf to Whumpee’s panic and pleas of mercy. Because the best way, to get Whumpee to realise that Caretaker wouldn’t hurt them, won’t be empty, reassuring words - Whumpee will panic and panic until eventually they’ll see that everything has been fine and their fears have never come true. And then they’ll have no more reason to panic

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Whumpee being left with a Negligent Caretaker (NC) after their real Caretaker leaves for an extended period of time. Maybe Caretaker has to travel to get a doctor or some medicine and trusts NC to care for Whumpee while they’re gone.

Maybe NC fails to give Whumpee pain killers, leaving them to suffer the full extent of their illness/injuries for hours on end. Maybe Whumpee is left dehydrated from all the sweating/puking/blood loss. Maybe Whumpee is starving as their body is deprived of the vital nutrients it needs to heal. Maybe Whumpee gets desperate and crawls out of bed to reach the bathroom, or to retrieve something they need. In doing so, they pass out or bust a stitch.

If NC is enough of an asshole, they might even scold Whumpee for giving them more work. NC is disgusted by Whumpee, making them feel ashamed of their condition, and for having normal bodily processes.

When the real Caretaker gets back, they beat the shit out of NC.

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How to feel like a person?

dont live with your mom

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(Relax Into) Stasis 2014.

Ink and watercolor.

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🔥 - Burn or scald them. For Elafi

Cooked Deer - Chimeras

~Special chapter~

CW: Scalding with boiling water, mainly domestic fluff.

Elafi decided to make some pasta for lunch.

His father, who had worked as a chef in a restaurant, knew how to prepare a wide variety of pastas from scratch, all of them delicious. Elafi hadn’t mastered that level of skill, but he had found a bag of spaghetti in Warrick’s pantry, and since there were fresh tomatoes from the garden and some basil, he decided to try making a classic Bolognese pasta.

Warrick was in the shed, so Elafi decided to start cooking and spare the man the trouble.

He began by taking the largest pot he could find, filled it with water, and set it on the stove. When the first bubbles began to boil, he dropped the thin sticks of pasta in, stirring slowly so they wouldn’t stick together, until they were fully submerged. While they cooked, he chopped the vegetables and prepared the meat for the sauce. Once everything was on the stove, he sat down to rest for a bit.

That morning he had trained again with Warrick, so his muscles felt tight and weak. He hoped a good meal would help him regain some energy.

When the timer on his phone went off, the deer boy got up and checked to see if the pasta was al dente. Once confirmed, he turned off the burner and grabbed the two handles of the pot to pour the hot water into the sink colander. He began to pour and...

His arm gave out.

His fingers slipped from the handle, and the boiling water spilled directly onto his left hand.

Elafi screamed.

The cry alerted Warrick, who immediately ran out of the shed and bolted to the cabin.

“Elafi!” he shouted, heart in his throat, as he rushed inside.

The kitchen was a mess, with noodles and steaming water scattered all over the floor. Elafi was on his knees in front of the sink, clutching his left hand, the skin completely red. As if it weren’t already obvious what had happened, the delicious scent of Bolognese sauce still hanging in the air was enough to make Warrick snap into action.

He turned off the stove and carefully helped Elafi to his feet. The deer boy was breathing hard.

“Easy, it’ll be okay,” Warrick said as he turned on the faucet and placed Elafi’s burned hand under the cold water. Elafi stifled a scream and instinctively tried to pull away, but Warrick held his wrist firmly, preventing him from moving. After a few minutes, he turned the tap off.

He guided Elafi to sit on one of the dining chairs and ran to get the first aid kit. When he returned, Warrick finally looked at the deer boy’s face—he had been silently crying the whole time.

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re going to be fine,” the man said as he wrapped the moist bandages around the teenager’s hand.

“I-I’m sorry,” the boy whispered. “I ruined lunch...”

“It was an accident,” Warrick assured him. He glanced at the large pot on the floor and all the noodles spilled everywhere. It was clear Elafi had tried to move it to drain the pasta. Had it been too heavy for him?

“It’s my fault,” Elafi said. His face was drenched in tears. “I’m too weak...”

“It was just an accident...”

“But it’s true!”

Hearing Elafi raise his voice was always unsettling for Warrick, who was used to the boy’s sweet and gentle tone.

“It’s true, I’m too weak,” he went on, wiping his tears with his good hand. “If I weren’t, the pot wouldn’t have slipped. If I weren’t so weak... I wouldn’t keep getting captured... I’m just easy prey.”

There was a sad resignation in the deer boy’s words.

“You’re doing great,” Warrick said. “Nobody is born strong overnight. Some people have it a bit easier than others, sure, but anything can be achieved with practice and dedication. And besides, you have the most important thing—”

He gently lifted Elafi’s chin with a finger, meeting his big brown eyes.

“You have the will to be better, and that’s something not everyone has. Even I lost that will at one point, and that’s what I admire most about you. You never give up.”

Warrick’s words seemed to have an immediate effect: Elafi’s tense shoulders relaxed, and life returned to his gaze.

“Thank you,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I’ll keep trying. And I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Attaboy,” Warrick replied, ruffling his hair playfully. “Well, I guess we’ll have to make something else for lunch, though it’d be a shame to waste that delicious Bolognese sauce. What do you say we scoop it up with some tortillas?”

Elafi let out a little laugh.

“Yes, that sounds perfect.”

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings @3-2-whump. @whumped-by-glitter @string-of-broken-hearts @alyscat @oddsconvert @what-if-i-just-did @bacillusinfection @writinglittlepains @washing---machine @bilightningwhumper @enasolos @inhurtandincomfort@c0zy-drag0n

A short one this time because I honestly couldn't think of a context where something like this could happen, but hey, the whump can appear even in the most normal and seemingly peaceful moments, so why not? BTW, I know nothing about cooking pasta, so if there's any chef reading this I'm sorry.

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Boys are like a type of ash tray that moans

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Thinking about defiant whumpee being held down while a muzzle is forcibly strapped over there face

[bacillusinfection]

grown ass man....