#human caretaker

[sibling-whump]

Caretaker who really isn't a great person at all.

Maybe they're a bad friend. Maybe they're untrustworthy and unreliable. Maybe they're just a straight up asshole. Their patience is string-thin on the best of days, they have their own life to live, and they have a tendency to self destruct it every two months.

How do they end up with Whumpee? How do they deal with suddenly having someone in their life that's completely vulnurable to them? Who's wellbeing completely relies on them?

[inkwell-and-dagger]

Caretaker comes from a noble bloodline, as does Whumper, who all specialise in hunting mythical creatures. This trait and activity is passed on for generations, but Caretaker has no interest in it and deems it as cruel.

Until Whumper hosted a "celebration" of this activity, where all who are invited are given the choice to bring their domesticated and captured creatures to show off, Caretaker had no clue what the mythical creatures looked like, nor how diverse the species' were.

Caretaker soon finds out. All types of mythical or otherwise unique animals, ranging from kneeling elves to caged fairies to declawed werewolves to chained dragons, among many more. Though, one stands out to them; Whumpee, frail and small amongst the crowd and activity yet tense and alert, sitting dutifully beside Whumper's seat.

[demondamage]

"Did you really think I would leave you out there alone?"

"You should have. You should have left me there alone when you first found me. I've gotten you hurt, ruined your life and make an outlaw out of you."

"You changed my life."

"I know- and I am so sorry-"

"Shut up and let me say thank you."

For @figuwhump Fridays!!! Gotta have some cute boys.

Art tag: @whump-tr0pes @whump-queen @whumpsday @whumpinthepot @kixngiggles @onlywhumpcomments @project-xiii @quietly-by-myself @ka1imba @suspicious-whumping-egg @cyborg0109 @whatwhumpcomments @whumpcomica @i-eat-worlds @blood-and-regrets @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @burntcoffeewhump @lonesome--hunter @scribbelle @oddsconvert @painsandconfusion @whumpasaurus101 @sadcatjae @kiratheperson @studyofwhump @sunshiline-writes @emmettnet @just-a-silly-little-whumper

[thekittyburger]

Multiple living weapon whumpees who are like siblings, but also fight like them

Their strength means that fights are almost always bloody and severe, but they never get too hurt, either

Caretaker caught in the crossfire on the other hand...

[whump-thoughts]

Robot whump save... robot whump save me please...

I NEED more robot whump where robot whumpee cannot actually express how extremely in pain they are. Like they have been hard programmed to be polite and always put humans needs before themselves and never be a inconvenience to any human under any circumstances so any attempt to communicate to caretaker about the extent of the damage that whumper has done to their body is filtered through that (either framed as something psychological or as something non-metaphorically programmed into them)

Which causes even more problems and tension when whumpee's caretaker is not someone equipped or knowledgeable enough to fix them up by hand. So therefore they have to trust what Whumpee tells them.

I also need more robot whumpees that talk formally. Idk I just like it

[thepenultimateword]

Short Prompt #121

CW: captivity, selling person, person treated like pet

As requested, Human paid all the money in cash. A ridiculous amount that only grew bigger when the venders tagged on a last minute defanging fee—despite Human never having asked for such a service. They were almost positive the poor vamp had been defanged long before Human even saw the listing.

The vampire didn’t even react as the leash was transferred from their former handlers to Human’s hand. They stood slumped, eyes glued submissively to the floor.

Human wondered how long they’d been in captivity. What had they been through up to now?

They gently led them to the car, sitting them in the backseat and making a show of clipping their collar to ring on the seat in front of them before removing their muzzle. They circled around to the drivers seat, forcing a parting wave at the sellers before leaving the so-called ‘rescue’ far behind.

Whatever the vampire had been through, it ended now.

[kaleidoscope-of-thoughts]

Caretaker gently scooping fairy Whumpee into their hands and holding them close when they find them unconscious on the ground.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

A New Beginning | Masterlist

23 year old Ryker comes to visit his parents with plans to take the family “pet” home with him.

(Content warnings will appear at the beginning of each chapter)

As usual, Carlos will still be available to roleplay with and his story is interactive, so asks are always welcome <3

[Read on AO3]

Main story:

ANB #1: Silly Little Dreams

ANB #2: Welcome Home

ANB #3: A Shopping Trip (Pt. 1)

ANB #4: A Shopping Trip (Pt. 2)

ANB #5: Buzz Cut

ANB #6: Safe

ANB #8: Sleep Forever

ANB #9: Overwhelmed

ANB #10: Needs To Know

ANB #11: Heal

ANB #12: Awake

ANB #13: Friends

ANB #14: Adoration

ANB #15: I Love You

ANB #16: Burns

ANB #18: Family

ANB #19: Nighttime Troubles

ANB #20: Lucky

ANB #21: Positive Affirmations

ANB #22: The Death of Malcolm Cortez

Main story drabbles:

Emotional, Adam's Nightmare, Dissociation, Relax, Scones & Movies, Warmth, A Nagging Thought, Sleep deprived, Adam's Bad Day, Lists Of Praise, Yearly Changes, Memories To Cherish, Revenge, May I (NSFT), A Letter To Malcolm Cortez, Gettin' Old

Carlos' Captivity (Ryker & His Parents):

ANB #19: Food

Carlos' Captivity Drabbles (Ryker & His Parents):

Ryker's nightmare, Sleepy, Scared, To Protect & To Serve, Outdoor Pet, Adam's Treehouse, Leaving

Carlos' Captivity (Malcolm):

ANB #17: The Glass Box

ANB #7: Tools

ANB Drabble: Stress Positions

ANB Drabble: Stress Toy

Carlos' Captivity Drabbles (miscellaneous):

Starved, Complicated, Tools

-

AU's:

Take Me Home (Carlos gets recaptured post-rescue)

Coco & Carlos (Coco is given to Carlos as a pet while he's with Malcolm)

Extensive Recapture (Carlos is recaptured but gone for decades rather than the short amount of time that happens in canon. Just a dot point list at this point but I may write a proper thing on it)

-

Other works:

Carlos & Bailey: An Interactive Story - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17.

Taglist:

@choppedflowermuffinchild @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @paniatheweirdone @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger

(The taglist is for the main story, along with any AUs, carlos' captivity, etc.)

[dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night]

Blood Sacrifices part nine

TW: child birth, referenced infertility, blood, injury, religion, paganism, false god, temporary whumper turned caretaker, multiple caretakers, vampire caretaker, human caretaker, human whumpee

"Meras is going into labor!" a man cried as he stumbled into the temple, terror and joy alike filling his face.

"And why is that my concern?" Ve'Qren asked.

He would be glad to meet a new child, as he found them delightful things, but the birthing process itself did not interest him. It was the wrong kind of violence, one that he could find no erotic fascination in. Well outside his area of expertise and utterly repulsive.

"As the god of new life you should help with the delivery of the child," Lohl said nervously. "Why would you shirk away from such blessed responsibilities, your godliness?"

"Who said I was shirking anything?" Ve'Qren asked sharply. "That was a rhetorical question, surely you realize. Of course I will attend to my responsibilities."

Ve'Qren had no idea that he was meant to involve himself directly in the creation of new life. But his duties could hardly be ignored, so he followed the husband of Meras to the home of the healer Cetaes, where he was greeted by sounds of horrific pain.

A woman, presumably Meras, stood holding onto a table with one hand and the arm of Cetaes with her other. Cetaes instructed her breathing in a well practiced tone of comfort and stability. Her husband dared not touch her, fearing to do some damage to his unborn child, but stood in front of her to offer a supportive presence.

The eyes of Ve'Qren wandered, his gaze falling on Drehl, lying half dead on a bed of wood planks. The blood which refused to stop flowing, even after days of treatment, dyed the cloth around his chest brilliantly red.

"It is a horrible insult to have a heretic present for the birth of a child," Ve'Qren bluffed, in case the child or mother died of causes truly outside his control. "Remove him."

Ve'Qren boldly took over from Cataes to support Meras, holding her horribly warm hand in his own. Surely an improvement, since no trembling of a human woman could overcome his natural physical strength. And tremble she did, unable to support her own body as she brought another's forth in great violence.

Cetaes did not risk moving Drehl from his resting place, instead carrying the wood frame he laid upon with the help of Lohl. They found for him a place outside, far from the sight of Ve'Qren. They returned in silence, having no desire to upset Meras or the god helping her through such a difficult time.

Unable to suppress her pain any longer, Meras screamed, her knuckles clenching the table with strength that seemed beyond her capabilities. After she found satisfaction in expressing her pain, she ceased her screaming to focus on her breathing.

Cataes knelt in front of Meras and peeked under her loose skirt to check on how the birthing was proceeding. "You're doing so well. Everything is going perfectly. There isn't a lot of blood. A very good sign."

Ve'Qren waited, having no idea how long childbirth lasted for. He had no shortage of love for human young, viewing them as perfect and fragile creatures. But he struggled to hide his lack of knowledge in matters of their creation, never having the opportunity to sire any of his own before his curse of blood robbed him of the ability.

His old feelings of resentment stirred. Bitterness over a life he never received, stripped of his nature as yet another human thousands of years before, in a barely remembered act of violence. Unable to do anything so simple as sire a child or break bread with his fellow countrymen.

Though he had long since convinced himself of his own superiority, there were things he would never get back, left shattered like glass over the path of his life.

It was the birth of the child, burst forth screaming from its mother, which stirred Ve'Qren from his loathsome thoughts, watching as Cetaes severed its mortal connection to its mother with her slender knife. She washed the screaming infant in a basin of water, smiling down at it as she examined its body.

Now seeing that her torment was finally over, Ve'Qren helped Meras to sit down on one of the many chairs in Cetaes' home. No one bothered with cleanliness, ignoring the blood soaked chair and floor, more concerned with the health of the mother and her new born.

Meras clung to the hand of the supposed god who had watched over the holiest act of her life. Ve'Qren allowed her this, worried beyond belief over her health. It was surely unnatural for a human to lose so much blood, save for during a violent death. But still she breathed, and he listened to her heart racing.

"He's a very healthy boy," Cateas said, wrapping the child in cloth and handing him to his mother.

Meras undid the clasp on her shirt, and brought her breast to the child's mouth, guiding him in how to suckle. Her face shone with joy, as though she had not been in the greatest depths of agony only minutes before.

"Would you do us the honor of christening our son?" the husband of Meras asked, his head bowed and eyes fixed on the floor.

"Of course I will," Ve'Qren said, still entranced by the sight of their child, unable to articulate the feelings blooming within his heart.

When she finished feeding her child, Meras gingerly handed him to Ve'Qren. Her husband finally took a chance to embrace her, eternally grateful for her survival, and for the healthy birth of their child.

"Little one," Ve'Qren cooed, staring at the newborn in his arms, his heart full of wonder.

The child tried to reach for him, curling and uncurling his impossibly tiny fingers. Ve'Qren kissed his forehead, struck by the sudden desire for a child to call his own. He held the infant to his chest, cooing sweet nothings and pretending they were perfectly alone.

"I name you Saul," he murmured to the child. Though in this culture's naming custom, he knew the family would surely spell it Sahl. "You have my blessing. And while I cannot control the course of your life, I wish you happiness and prosperity."

Unable to deal with his overwhelming feelings of longing any longer, Ve'Qren handed Sahl back to his mother, forming some excuse or other as he left, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @devourerofcheesecake @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whumpshaped @boxboysandotherwhump @thecyrulik @heavenlyeden @whumpitisthen @whumptier @whumpy-writings @desiresandvampires

[clickerflight]

Burned at the Stake: Part 5

Master list

Part 4

Couldn't wait till tomorrow to post.

Content: Vampire whumpee, human whumper, human caretaker, gun violence, blood, pistol whipped, possible eye injury (not described much), betrayal my beloved, vampire trafficking, dragged by the hair cause I'm obsessed, gun wound, blood drinking (but it's satisfying tho)

..................................................

Esial woke up to the sound of the front door closing. He laid there in the bed, almost dizzy with how comfy he felt. The blankets were all unimaginably soft, as was the padding he was laying on. He laid there, giddy with the feeling as the general glow of sunlight lit the room gradually through the cracks around the fabric. 

He’d have to move to make sure the fabric hid the sunlight better, but he just wanted to sit and enjoy resting. 

He dozed off, unaware of the world again. He woke up when Kyle came back and eventually got himself out of bed. He glanced out the window and was surprised to see the sun in the sky through a partially open blind. 

He jumped back with a yelp to get away, but realized he hadn’t been burned. 

He frowned and stepped forward, moving the blinds and looking at the sun. He hadn’t seen it in so long, it was strange to look at it now. He could feel the warmth of the sun beams, but they weren’t burning him. 

He tapped at the strange see through object in between him and the outside. Maybe that was what was protecting him?

There was a knock on the door to the room and it opened up. Esial could smell blood. 

He turned and Kyle smiled at him. “Hey, I got breakfast.”

Esial tilted his head. He wasn’t really sure what a ‘breakfast’ was, but he hoped it had something to do with the blood he was smelling. 

He followed Kyle to the other room where there was some food on the table. 

“I don’t know if you’ll get sick from eating again after starving for so long, so you have a little and if you feel okay you can have more in an hour or so. Is that alright?”

Esial nodded. “Okay… I can have it?”

“Yeah, the blood is in the cup and you should have some of the sandwich.”

Esial sat down on one of the chairs as Kyle sat to eat as well and lifted the cup to his lips, sipping it slowly. He closed his eyes as the blood coated his tongue. It was cow’s blood, and while there was a strange tang to it he didn’t recognize, it was the most delicious thing he could imagine.

“I have a neighbor downstairs who’s a vampire,” Kyle said warmly. “I was able to borrow some of that from him so you’d have something before I run errands later.”

Esial licked into the cup as far as he could reach before lowering the cup, licking his lips as the blissful feeling he’d lost when the sun scared him reemerged. 

“Thank you,” he said to Kyle.

Kyle shrugged. “I should have stopped her sooner. I’m sorry, man. She told me she’d let you go.”

Esial frowned into the cup, reaching in a finger in to scoop out some more for himself. 

Kyle finished his sandwich before getting up. “I’m going to run errands. I’m going to figure out how we go through the process of getting you taken care of. Don’t want to force you to live with me forever.”

Esial hummed, though he didn’t really understand all that Kyle meant, though he was glad to hear that Kyle didn’t intend to keep him like the woman had. 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Kyle said with a wave as he grabbed some jingly pieces of metal and left out the door. 

Esial watched the door for a bit longer before he started to poke around the place. He still couldn’t guess what anything was, though he could assume some of their uses, but he was certainly amused with guessing what certain items were as his wounds slowly began to close.

……………………………….

Joanna had waited all day. When she found her vampire missing, that had made her already bad day worse. She’d gone out drinking the night away after finding a buyer to take the vampire. He was a creepy old dude. Samuel, or something like that. She had his phone number written down so she thankfully wouldn’t have to rely on her hungover state of mind.  

She already knew who had taken Esial. The only person who’d known the vampire was here in the first place. She couldn’t really call the police and get it back, so she’d have to do it herself. And she would get it back. Kyle wasn’t tough enough to stand up to her, and the vampire was still weak enough she was certain she could deal with it, especially with a pistol ready to go in her pocket. One shot to the brain and it would certainly go right back to sleep long enough for her to make the deal. 

Still, Joanna waited till nighttime so she could drag the vampire out without burning it to a crisp and get noticed and caught. 

Something tugged in her heart as she thought about what she might have to do to Kyle but she shook that off quickly, She’d only have to do that if her friend tried to stop her. 

Joanna stood at Kyle’s door, his spare key in hand. She could hear people talking inside in Ancient Egyptian. She steeled her resolve, and pushed open the door, gun in hand.

…………………………………

Esial really liked Kyle. The man’s Egyptian was a little rough, but it wasn’t like Esial could say he was a master at English. Kyle was still teaching Esial new words and the vampire was drinking them as quickly as they came, enjoying it all. He had eaten every hour and all of his burns were healed. He’d even been given some proper clothing. Kyle had seemed rather disgusted by the towel Esial had been wearing, and Esial couldn’t help but agree. He tugged at the shirt he wore, still trying to figure out what it was made of as they chatted. 

“So, the plan is that I’ll take you to the rehab center tomorrow. They said you could stay there or stay with me in the evenings, whatever works for you,” Kyle said in a mixture of Egyptian and English so Esial could best understand. “You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“I like it here,” Esial suggested. 

“How about you wait till you’ve seen that place? It’s really nice. All the bells and whistles. They’ll be able to get you an education and then help you get set up in society with a job and everything. There are a lot of cool options for vampires… though you might be a little limited if you come from the generations that can’t tolerate the sun. Still, I’m sure they’ll have something that will work for you.”

Esial nodded, happy with the knowledge that he could be out doing things again. Maybe even hunting!

There was silence for a moment and Kyle sighed. “I’m really sorry about… everything. What happened to you? Why were you in that clearing?”

Esial frowned, thinking back. It had been a very long time ago and it almost didn’t seem to matter anymore. “I…. don’t really remember. I think they were scared of me?”

He didn’t relive those memories very often as a heart, so they had been mostly forgotten in the vastness of endless agony and boredom. “Maybe…. I think there was another demon around who did something, and they thought it was me? I think I killed some of them when they attacked me, but I was just defending myself.”

Kyle seemed a bit taken aback. “You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

“That’s…. Strange. I can’t imagine not-What’s wrong?”

Esial stared at the front door, he heard something in the handle click and he smelled-

Esial grabbed Kyle as the door slammed open, pulling the young man down behind the counter they had been sitting at. 

There was a loud bang that rang painfully in Esial’s ears and dust shattered out of the wall behind them, settling in their hair. 

“Kyle, get out here now,” Joanna said sharply, the door now closed and locked behind her. 

“You don’t want to do this, Joanna,” Kyle replied, back pressed against the corner as he carefully looked around the edge. He had some object in hand that Esial didn’t recognize, punching at buttons, but before he could finish that, Joanna was standing over them, the strange weapon in her hand pointed at Kyle’s forehead. 

Kyle froze, staring up at her. 

“Put the phone down,” she said darkly. 

Esial trembled, unsure of what to do. He didn’t know how the weapon worked. Would it kill Kyle before he could knock Joanna away? Kyle had a firm hold on one of Esial’s wrists, maybe to keep him from trying. 

Kyle did so, and Joanna kicked the object off down the hall. 

“This is how it’s going to go,” Joanna said, leaning down. She grabbed Esial by the hair, making the vampire shudder and grab her wrist with his free hand, remembering very clearly the last time she had done so. “I’m taking the vampire, and you’re going to come with me quietly. Mmkay? I’m selling it off and you’re going to be involved so if you tell the police, you’re getting arrested too, got it?”

Kyle gritted his teeth for a moment, but she touched the still hot tip of the weapon to his forehead, making him flinch back and hit his head off the counter. “Got it?”

“Yeah, fine,” Kyle snarled. 

Esial could see the fire in Kyle’s eyes and knew that his rescuer was making no promises to this woman. Joanna could tell too, it seemed, because she whipped the gun across Kyle’s face, sending him fully prone to the ground. 

Esial moved, trying to wrench himself out of her grasp and get Kyle, but the weapon was pressed to his head. The dust still in his hair felt heavy with the promise of what pain this weapon could promise. 

“You, Vampire, are going to behave yourself, or I kill him,” Joanna said, eliciting a groan from Kyle as he tried to get an elbow under himself, his hand to his face. 

“What happened, hsss, to me being involved?” Kyle asked, looking up at her through his fingers. 

“You just made it very clear you’re not going to comply. This could have been so much easier if you’d stayed out of all this, Kyle. I don’t want you to die, but you’ve made this complicated,” she said standing up and dragging Esial up with her. “Get up, Kyle.”

Kyle did so, hand over one eye. His breathing was picking up, and he was getting paler by the minute. Esial could smell his blood.

“Alright. You’ll be walking ahead of us, and if you get any bright ideas-”

There came a knocking at the door and the three of them froze. 

“Kyle?” someone called through the door. “You alright?”

Kyle was silent and Joanna finally hissed, “Tell him everything is fine.”

Reluctantly, Kyle cleared his throat. “Joseph?”

“Yeah, you alright?”

Kyle didn’t even hesitate. He simply screamed. There were no comprehensible words in the scream, but is soon took on the sound of pain as another bang ricocheted in Esial’s skull and Kyle went down with blood spewing out his side. 

Esial heard the door splinter, he heard Kyle wailing, he heard Joanna’s blood pounding, and he heard his hair rip as he lunged forward, sinking his fangs into the arm holding the weapon. Her blood sprang up into his mouth, and some ancient instinct told him to drink. 

He’d eaten all day, but his body was still starving and this��.. He’d never had human blood before. It was…..

Tough hands pried him off of a fallen woman and he lunged to try and get more. There was nothing in this world that could taste that good, he was sure of it. His mouth sang with flavor and all he wanted was more. He would be fully healed to the point where he could fight hippos again. No one would ever hurt him again, he would never be held down by chains and he-

“Oi! Leave it!”

The words pierced his mind and he became aware of how he was salivating, the spit and blood dripping down his front, He felt bloated and overful, there was energy coursing through his veins and stars appearing in his vision as the vampire named Joseph hauled him back away from where Joanna had fallen, still breathing. Barely.  

There were other people in the apartment, some using devices and talking to people Esial couldn’t see and someone was holding Kyle’s wound. 

Esial couldn’t control his breathing, and he was still enough for Joseph to get a better grip on him. “S’alright, man. You back?”

Esial twisted his head to try and see Joseph’s face. He didn’t respond other than to simply tremble, ignoring the blood pooling out in two different places in the apartment as someone clamped their hand over Joanna’s wound. 

“It’s alright,” Joseph said steadily. “You’re alright. I’ve got you. Looks like Kyle’s gonna be okay too.”

Esial slowly relaxed, hearing loud wailing noises not made by any mouth approaching the building. “Alright….”

Esial: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump @writereleaserepeat @tragedyinblue @hyrules-sleepiest-knight

Before you go

I know a lot of you really like this, I am planning on doing more in this world and Esial and Kyle will show up in those as side or main characters. If you want to be tagged in anything made in this world (I don't have a name for it yet but I'll think of one) let me know.

Part 6

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Sting

Synopsis: Shae stumbles upon a bee hive.

Author’s notes: I might have a part 2 for this in mind if anyone wants to be even meaner to the boi. 👀

Content warnings: tiny whump, faery whump, bugs, bees, bee sting, injury, exhaustion, passing out, nonhuman whumpee, human caretaker, rescue, gentle caretaking

----

Insects are just part of life outdoors; Shae encounters them often. A few are dangerous but most pay him no mind. Bees, though intimidating, don’t bother him. In fact, Shae likes bees because where there are bees, there are usually flowers.

But he’s never seen this many.

Shae can hardly hear his own thoughts over the buzz of what must be hundreds of bees as they zip around between the fields of wildflowers on all sides and the tall, human-made wooden structures that they have made their home. He can practically feel the air around him vibrating.

It all happens so fast. Hands over his ears, Shae whirls around to hurry away from the cacophony and stumbles right into one of the countless bees. In a flurry of movement, the angered creature defends itself the only way it knows how.

The stinger plunges into Shae’s stomach hard and fast. It knocks the breath from his lungs and the thoughts from his mind. He knows nothing but red hot agony for just a moment before his eyes roll back and he is out cold without a sound.

As the bee flies away the stinger’s barbs briefly catch, lifting Shae’s limp body slightly from the ground before he slips free and lands on his back in the dirt. It’s there he stays for hours.

-

The first anything is that awful hum. It grows louder and louder as Shae wakes until it feels like it’s drilling deep into his head. He whines softly, hands twitching with the desire to cover his ears, but he can’t move. Every limb is stiff and numb; even his eyelids feel impossibly heavy.

All his focus is drawn to the one place where he feels too much. His belly, free of the stinger, now bears a round, hot welt. The swollen skin prickles and, could he move even a finger, he’d be tempted to itch at it. Instead he can only tremble and twitch and try to catch his breath.

After minutes that feel like hours he manages to open his eyes. The world spins above him, a flurry of motion to accompany the sickening hum. Shae groans. His head pounds.

Several more minutes pass before he can keep his eyes open and attempt to sit up.

At the first suggestion of movement he’s hit with a sharp twinge in his side. Shae gasps and curls onto the opposite side. He holds the wound with both hands and takes deep breaths, fighting to stay conscious.

When the pain dulls he tries again. Again it hurts, but this time it’s a little more bearable. He has to lean heavily into the stem of a tall plant, but he manages to get to his feet. When a breeze sways the stem he sways with it, groaning again at the dizzying movement.

Shae yearns to lie back down, but he knows he won’t get a moment’s rest with the thrumming air and head-splitting noise. He needs quiet stillness in which to recover. If he stays here he might just go mad.

The tall grass and wildflowers are packed densely enough to always give him something to hold onto as he struggles forward one tiny step at a time.

Shae valiantly makes it almost two yards from the hives before his legs give out entirely. He lands heavily on his injured side and is out in an instant.

-

It’s at times like these that Shae wishes he had someone to tend to him. He fares well enough alone when he’s well, but when he’s weak, scared, and hurting, he so keenly feels the absence of comfort and companionship.

But when he wakes this time, he knows immediately that he is not alone.

Even with his eyes closed the looming presence of a human is unmistakable. Its shadow moves this way and that, moving things away from the washcloth that pillows the faerie. There’s a dull thump that startles Shae when a hand sets down a large bottle behind him.

That’s when he realizes…it’s quiet here. He aches all over but at least he has this - the incessant buzzing is gone.

One relief is followed by another. The human dabs something wet and cool onto the sting with a cotton swab; tension drains from Shae’s body as the pain eases.

“There you go. Poor thing…” the human pats on a small piece of gauze with her fingertip. “You’ll be okay. I know what I’m doing, I get stung all the time.”

“You’re not the size of a doll,” a second voice chimes in from across the room.

“Hush. He’ll be okay. Look, he’s waking up…hi, sweetie…”

Shae remains awake long enough for the beekeeper to give him water to drink and a gob of thick, sweet honey on a little piece of warm bread. That’s all his weary mind needs to convince him he’s safe. As soon as he’s licked the last bit of honey from his lips, the faerie sinks back down into the washcloth. His rescuer drapes a second one over him.

And Shae sleeps.

[sunshiline-writes]

Chocolatería

I made a fluffy fanfic for Az @demondamage so he can feel better after surgery!! It includes Hot Chocolate and Az's Ocs! Warren and Aziphem. Its serious just comfort and fluff. Anyway! Hope this made Az feel better! __

The little demon was shaking next to the fire. As if the cold had bore into his very soul. Did.. people  (creatures?) like him have souls? Warren wrote in his notebook yet another question to ask Aziphem when he felt like talking. Would the question be answered? Probably not. Warren sighed, this was not something that he signed up for. But looking at Azzie sitting there by the fire, still shaking like a leaf, he couldn’t help but feel his heart wrench for him. It had taken him forever to just get him into the house, let alone accept a blanket or two from him. Warren wanted to give him at least a little bit of peace. Just a second where the demon felt safe. Genuinely safe. One thing at a time though. First things first, he had to get Azzie warm. The blankets and the fire wasn’t enough and the little thing was too damn stubborn to admit it. Warren thought for a moment before he thought of something. Then Warren was in the kitchen with a pot on the stove, pouring milk, pulling out a few packets of hot chocolate mix. Warren was smiling to himself, as he waited for the milk to heat up. 

“What are you doing, human?” Aziphems' voice rang out, quiet, a blanket curled over his shoulders, wrapping him up effectively. His dark eyes, even the third one on his forehead, watched him cautiously. There seemed to be a bit of fear in them, wariness. God what happened to him before Warren had found him broken outside in the forest. 

“I’m making you hot chocolate, to help you warm up,” Warren said slowly, he had planned for it to be a surprise but Aziphem had other plans. Aziphem stepped backwards, bearing his teeth at Warren. 

“I don’t need anything from you,” he said, growling. 

“I know that,” came the automatic, tired response. 

This seemed to be surprising to Aziphem, who frowned. Pursing his lips. “You.. You say you know, but then you continue giving me things,” he said, confused. “Remember our conversation about why I'm helping you? That I don’t have an ulterior motive? That I can’t take things from you because you’re so much stronger than me, and faster, and, you can totally rip me apart and-” 

Aziphem had a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“Ah you can smile. It’s cute,” he said, not really thinking about what he had said. 

There was a silence in the room as Warren blushed and turned back to the warm milk on the stove, throwing the mix into the pot and stirring it. He was so.. Stupid. Why did he just say that? 

“You’re blushing,” Aziphem helpfully pointed out, smirking. Warren rubbed his face with his hand, as if that would rub the blush from his skin. He sighed and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Warren said, smiling at Azzi, trying to let him know that it was all in good fun. Gentle teasing. 

“Right, of course not,” Azzie played along, watching Warren tip the hot chocolate in the mugs, watching it steam. Azzie immediately went to snatch the mug and Warren stopped him with a whine. 

“Hold on Azzie! I haven’t even put in the best part!” Aziphem pouted and Warren smiled, going to look for the marshmallows. “I promise you’ll love it.” He cursed lightly in Spanish as he dug through the pantry. “I swear I have them.” Aziphem watched, slightly amused at the dumb human looking like he was going through an existential crisis about marshmallows. Then the man made an excited noise and raised his head, banging it on the top of the pantry with a low groan. “Ayyy,” he grumbled, one hand rubbing his head and the other clutching the marshmallows like his life depended on it. “Hey, hey! Don’t laugh, that hurt,” Warren said pouting. 

Azzie stayed quiet but there was still a smile on his face as he watched Warren grumpily make his way to the mugs, tearing open the bag and grabbing a handful. Placing that handful on the counter, then grabbing another handful of marshmallows splitting it in the chocolatey drink. Aziphem grabbed the handful of marshmallows and stuffed them in his mouth, chewing as Warren grabbed his own mug, leaning against the counter. 

He watched as Aziphem grabbed the other mug, holding it close to his chest as he peered into it. Whispering a quiet, “Thank you,” as he took a sip. 

How long had it been since he was shown kindness without expecting anything in return? The question burned in Warren's head as he took another sip of the hot chocolate. 

“There’s a word for this in Spanish you know,” Warren spoke, wanting for a second to fill the silence. Just for a moment. Aziphem looked up, eyes bright with the question. “It’s like when a group of people get together and have hot chocolate,” Warren paused and grinned, “Chocolatería.” 

“Choco..” Aziphem trailed off, the word hard on his tongue. 

“Latería,” Warren finished gently. 

“I’ll let you speak the Spanish here,” Aziphem said with a roll of his eyes, taking another sip of the chocolate. He had long ago stopped shaking. But he took the drink anyway. 

“Yeah, I think that’s best,” Warren said with a laugh. “Want to watch a movie?” “Sure.”

“Come on then Azzie.” 

They sat that night on the same couch, it was a step in the right direction. There was a stillness in the air that was comfortable and quiet. Warren couldn’t get Aziphems smile out of his head. He even went to bed thinking about it. Maybe he could help a little more than he thought. Little by little, step by step. 

Little by little, step by step. 

[demondamage]

MediwhumpMay Day 25 - Shaking

This takes place immediatly after Day 24 (Here)

This was SUPPOSED to be a torture and whump blog but Yall got me invested in this human. Officially named Warren Vale, the Doctor from the POVs is now a character.

And I need sleep

@mediwhumpmay

Art tag list: @whump-tr0pes @whump-queen @whumpsday @whumpinthepot @kixngiggles @onlywhumpcomments @project-xiii @quietly-by-myself @ka1imba @suspicious-whumping-egg @cyborg0109 @whatwhumpcomments @dwcomics @i-eat-worlds @regrets-realization-acceptance

[thecareandkeepingofwhumpees]

My entry for @whumpril day 19: "I need you".

Content warnings: religious references (as in, like, greek mythology, not catholicism), a little swearing, ambiguous/open ending, and second-person pov. Let me know if you need anything added!

You like going for walks in the woods. When surrounded by enough nature, you can almost forget how civilization has gone to shit. Today has not gone well, and as a result, you feel the need to wander deeper into the forest than ever before.

After what must’ve been over an hour, you come across something new. The remains of what must’ve once been a gorgeous structure stand in front of you, with crumbling pillars and an overgrown tile floor. You reach out to touch one of the columns. Your hand comes away coated in a thin layer of dust.

Abruptly, you come to the realization that something is wrong. The birds have stopped chirping. Perhaps this place is not as abandoned as it looks.

A gust of wind swirls around you, tousling your hair and nearly knocking you to your feet. No, you certainly are not alone here. The wind dies down once it reaches the steps of the small temple. It leaves behind what appears at first glance to be a man — and a very handsome one at that, with a sharp jawline and roman nose. But no. Something about the image is off. The creature in front of you does not feel human.

“Hello, little mortal,” he coos, smiling sharply, and no. He is definitely not a human, not with teeth like that, and not when he’s referring to you as mortal as if he isn’t. But what does that make him? You remember where you are — an ancient temple. Oh. The pieces are clicking into place now. “It seems you’ve wandered a bit too far, hm? But you needn’t worry. If you kneel before me and repent, I won’t punish you… too harshly.”

You should be scared. He’s obviously trying to scare you, and given that he is a god and you are a human, it should be working. So why isn’t it? Something about this whole scenario feels off, just like his human form. Speaking of, he’s trembling like a leaf in the wind, despite the fact that the gust had dissipated upon his arrival.

You’d never exactly believed in myths and fairytales, but you still enjoyed hearing them. The gods seemed so invincible — the chinks in their armor were so few and far between that they were referred to as immortals. Was it any wonder that you had their few weaknesses committed to memory? It wasn’t knowledge you’d ever expected to use, but now… now you knew why you weren’t afraid.

“Bow,” the god demanded through gritted teeth. He was losing his patience, and if your theory was correct, it was hardly surprising.

“And what if I don’t?” you asked. Absolutely not your wisest move, but hey. You’ve had a shitty day; you’re feeling a little self-destructive.

You can see the color being leached from his human form. His eyes widen ever so slightly. “You’re not going to.”

“I could be convinced,” you hum, and your tone makes it clear that further intimidation tactics won't be the way to do it.

“How?” Desperation is beginning to color his voice.

“How does a bit of a role reversal sound?” You smile for the first time that day. “Beg.”

You watch his face cycle through the stages of grief, but it lands, inevitably, on hopeless acceptance. He stumbles down the steps, collapsing into a pile at your feet. “Please…”

You slip a finger under his chin, lifting it so that he has to look you in the eye. Your day left you feeling a bit powerless, but with a literal god sniveling at your feet… yeah, that isn't an issue anymore. “Please, what?”

He almost snarls, but this is well and truly his last chance. “Please, please. I need your worship. I need you. Please. I’m going to die. Human worship is the gods' lifeblood, but you’ve all forgotten me. It’s been so long since I’ve been given an offering, or even a prayer. I’m starving. Please, worship me.”

Well? Will you?

[redd956]

Prompt 29

Content: Robot Whumpee, Whump, Medic Caretaker

CW: Violence, City Destruction

Caretaker scanned the destruction coating the streets. They needed to be sure that they scrounged up every injured person, every tired buried soul, every scared confused child. Caretaker and their team had been going at this for days. In fact they had to be assured multiple times that everyone was accounted for. 

No matter so that didn’t stop Caretaker from straying away from their team, wandering the destroyed city streets in the night, hoping for one last lost soul. Eventually, they found it.

Jittering ever so slightly the city’s current day top tier technological advancement, a defense robot, remained slumped against the rubble that was probably once a store. It’s high-tech riot shield sat a meter away, with it’s own arm still attached to it. The armor the robot was encased it had cracked, fractured, and dented in nearly everyway possible. It’s eyes flickered with a bright neon blue in and out, before movement caught their attention. The eyes forced themselves back to life.

The robots head bobbed upwards, trying to keep track of whatever was in front of it. Upon trying to speak the robotic voice bank emitted a garbled glitchy mess of noises and beeps. A painful inhuman cry cut off itself, as the robot’s locked up and sparks flittered out of the socket to the missing arm. The man-made body seized up, and just like that the light of blue life in the robot’s eyes was gone.

Caretaker thought back to when the team had to borrow a defense bot. They remembered all the jokes that lingered in the air about it. They’re loud, heavy, and programmed. Some stood guard in front of the government building, their only artificial thought in life being to protect whoever was inside. Some fought overseas, mindlessly intent on destroying anything that stood in their country’s way. This one was probably called out into the day, programmed to protect others from disaster.

Their made to look as human as possible still. Manufacturer’s say it’s so people don’t fear them. Yet despite all the talk of programming back then, the team was all pleasantly surprised at the robot’s abilities to act human sometimes, even if all it’s impressiveness signified they would one day be replaced too. A robot made to save lives, should be treated like one?

Before Caretaker even knew it, they found themselves dragging the shield and arm back over to robot. They forced the shield onto the robot’s respective back lock made for it. They analyzed the pieces of arm, synthetic flesh, and frayed wire. At least Caretaker’s days of being an engineer would be no waste in their rescuing arch of life.

“Let’s get you patched up.” They said aloud to reassure themselves, not knowing that despite darkened eyes, the robot heard it all.

[cryptidwritings]

Comfortember #7 : comfort item

Masterlist

content: implied past experimentation and torture, mutation, inhuman whumpee, scientist caretaker, death mention, needle mention.

...

"The thing in pod eleven won't calm down. Whenever any of us walk past, it starts attacking the glass."

Caretaker looked at the guard, "eleven?"

"Yes."

He turned back to his computer and did a quick search through the outdated database. His teammate assured him that the encryption would be cracked in a few hours, but until then the information he could glean without a secure login was sparse.

All he could see was a brief description. height: 4ft 3in. Weight: a meager 50 pounds. Temperament: Hostile.

"Take me to it," he insisted.

The guard escorted him down two floors where the elevator descended from the open air to surrounded by solid rock on either side. When the elevator opened, he felt like he had stepped onto a new planet.

A series of blue and green lights flickered throughout the space, pointing at pod-like structures with glass that bubbled outward. Only a few were still lit, though when they had arrived, every pod was packed with... things.

Caretaker had helped lead the takeover of this facility. It was supposed to have been decommissioned over two decades ago, but was kept running by dirty money and a sick man's thirst for cruelty beyond anything Caretaker had ever seen. It was this cruelty that led Medic to make the tough decision to put most of the specimens out of their misery.

The report stated that only three were viable. Of the few, two had functional systems but with little to no response besides the occasional garbled sound.

As Caretaker approached pod eleven, he could see the naked frame huddled in the center of the floor, combing its fingers through its thick mop of tangled hair that fell well past its shoulders. It looked up as it heard his footstep along the concrete.

Caretaker was met with hatred as it barred its teeth and hissed, then lunged forward, smacking into the glass with a horrible thump.

The guard reared back in surprise, but Caretaker stood firm then crouched down to look the thing in the eye. If it weren't for its slightly elongated pupil and light purple cornea, the thing could have easily been mistaken as human. Maybe at one point it was.

It continued to bang on the glass, going so far as to slam its own head against it hard enough to draw blood. Then it began to pace, staring at Caretaker with the eye of malice and murderous intent with blood dripping down its forehead.

Suddenly Caretaker's walkie sounded off. The hack was successful, and he was needed.

He stood, and nodded to the specimen.

"I'll be back tomorrow," he said, noticing how that statement made the thing growl again, "we can sit and chat. Or just sit."

He turned to walk away, and heard the thump of its body hitting the glass again. That was alright. It was good, because this specimen had Fight, and if it had Fight, that meant it wanted to live.

"Get it some new clothes."

"Yes, sir."

He went back and the new clothes were in tatters, and it was pacing. Caretaker took a seat on the ground, and the specimen stopped pacing, then sat as well, looking into the scientists eye; mocking him.

He sat across from it, and it sat across from him. He studied it, and it glared at him, and after an hour the scientist would get up and tell the thing it would be back again the next day.

So on it continued for another week, then two. The pods were dismantled around it; it's less violent pod-mates moved to another wing for rehabilitation.

This change had little emotional effect on it. Though as more days passed, he would find it sitting on the ground versus hunched over itself.

Then one day, Caretaker walked in to the almost barren room to find the specimen waiting for him, wearing the new clothes, and it looked up at Caretaker with its first semblance of an awkward, but genuine, expectant smile.

On that day, Caretaker wanted to give it something. Something it could use, but not break or use to hurt itself.

He sat on the ground and smiled a bit before reaching into his jacket. The thing saw and watched with careful apprehension, even leaning back and away, as if waiting for something to come through the glass and attack it.

Caretaker went slow, keeping one hand up as he finished revealing what was in his pocket - a whistle. He lifted it to his lips, watching the specimen carefully.

He blew, and the sound of an owl's hoot came out of the end, and the specimens eyebrows stitched together, looking at the object with fascination.

Caretaker did it again, and then offered it through the food hatch.

It stayed there for a moment, and the specimen came closer and timidly reached for the object. It touched the plastic and reared back, hiding behind its own arm for a moment before peeking back out and eyeing the scientist.

It then reached out and grabbed the object, twisting it in its hands as it studied it carefully. Eventually it brought it to its lips, and gave a small blow. The noise hooted in its ears, and something came alive within it.

"It's a bird caller," Caretaker explained, "outside, it can attract real owls if you're patient enough. Maybe one day you can try it."

Specimen looked up at that. It's eyes darkened with skepticism.

Outside. Outside was for humans. Outside was for white coats and needles and fire and excrutiating pain. Inside its pod, it was safer. Not safe - it was never safe - but white coats don't go inside the pod.

It shook its head, but held on to the object, not knowing why, but knowing it didn't want to let it go.