#oc: caretaker

[south-sea]

the boys watch television

[mtgc858]

Child a---e tw

So a bit of Raven angst on why she hates having her cheeks touched(besides kisses)

Well! It was all thanks to Mrs # Aka the caretaker who always thought Raven was at fault for making messes or anything when it wasn't and was just a cover up for another bully's actions(not Leroy btw)

Which Mrs # would pinch Ravens cheek like those pinch cheek and pull thing but a bit more harshly as Raven already had sensitive skin so it didn't help and it hurt like crazy.

So now Raven flinches when someone touches it but mostly just starts crying automatically even if it's a small poke or touch as it makes her extremely uncomfortable and emotional, kisses are okay though as Legion is soft when he kisses her cheek.

But poking,petting or touching isn't okay even with asking permission,Leroy doesn't even go that far and touch her face like that especially. Anyway some Raven Angst and making Mrs # More hate-able.

[i-love-all-whumpees-equally]

don't you ever see a blorbo and wanna just-

[cherry-koi]

puppies and kitties can play together !!

[mj-iza-writer]

"Why are you pulling away from me?", Whumper pulled Whumpee's leash harshly making them fall forward, "whatever is going on better stop before you get punished."

Whumpee whimpered as Whumper grabbed their collar and pulled them close.

"Please", Whumpee gulped, "please don't hurt me, I-I'm I'm", Whumpee started to stutter and shake.

"You're what?", Whumper impatiently pulled Whumpee until they were face to face.

"I'm nasty, and-and dirty. I think I smell", Whumpee gasped as the collar tightened.

Whumper looked at Whumpee with disgust, "what did you say?"

"I saw myself in the mirror earlier. How can you be okay with touching me and being near me", Whumpee gasped, "I-I can't breath very well."

Whumper realized and released their grip on the collar.

Whumpee fell down into Whumper's lap and scrambled to the floor to get away.

"Do I own you?", Whumper sat back.

"Huh?", Whumpee looked up in fear.

"Do I own you?", Whumper repeated, "is that not my collar around your neck?"

"Ye-yes master", Whumpee looked down and began fiddling with the dog tag.

"Are you saying I own things that smell and are dirty?", Whumper frowned, "is that a thing you should say about your master? That they own something gross."

"I-I'm sorry", Whumpee bowed, "I didn't mean it like that. I just..."

"It's not a pets place to say that they are dirty, it's their Master's place", Whumper sighed, "you are not allowed to have such human thoughts. Am I clear?"

"Y-yes Master, please forgive me", Whumpee kept their face into the carpet.

"Remember what belongs to me can't be dirty", Whumper lifted their leg and rested their foot on Whumpee's head, "am I clear?"

"Y-yes mas-master, please have mercy on me", Whumpee pleaded, face now shoved into the carpet by Whumper's foot.

A while later Whumper stood from their seat.

Whumpee shyly watched from the corner of their eye as Whumper left the room.

'They're mad at me', Whumpee sighed to themself, 'I'm an idiot.'

Whumpee heard water running, it sounded like it was coming from the bathroom.

'Here comes my punishment', Whumpee groaned, 'I wonder if it will be scolding hot or ice cold', Whumpee almost wanted to run to Whumper to plead for forgiveness, 'will they hose me down, make me sit in it, or hold me under', these thoughts made Whumpee shake.

"Come"

Whumpee shook their head a little to get rid of the thoughts.

"Are you deaf? Come here", came the command again.

Whumpee quickly looked over to where the voice was coming.

Whumper stood with their hands on their hips, making their impatience known.

Whumpee quickly crawled to Whumper.

"About time", Whumper sighed, "you were thinking again, weren't you?"

"Yes Master, I'm sorry. I was just thinking of all the ways you were going to punish me. I hope I may find grace in your eyes, please", Whumpee begged.

"I'm not going to punish you", Whumper sighed, "I considered your feelings, and have decided to let you have a bath."

Whumpee looked at Whumper in shock.

"You mean it Master?", Whumpee couldn't believe what they had heard.

"Follow me", Whumper led the way to the bathroom.

Whumpee looked into the tub and saw a bath had been drawn with bubbles.

"These are for your hair and of course soap. Do you need any help, or can you manage?", Whumper pulled out a towel and wash cloth from a closet, "you can take as much time as you like."

"I can do it Master", Whumpee happily looked at Whumper, "thankyou so much for allowing me to clean up."

"You're welcome. I'll allow you to have a spa day once in a while as a treat that you must earn for good behavior. The better you are, the more I will add for you to enjoy", Whumper frowned, "I will help with your teeth and nails as I normally do, the rest you can do for yourself. I will continue taking care of your hair as well."

Whumpee nodded, "I could hug you right now, this means so much."

"I'd rather you didn't", Whumper frowned, "I'll be in the living room. Come find me when you're all done."

With that, the door was closed and Whumpee was alone.

They reached their arm into the water. It felt so warm, it sent goosebumps down their body.

They climbed into the tub and just sat in the water for a while. The bubbles sizzled on their skin.

A few more minutes passed, and they started to clean themself. They scrubbed every body part they could reach.

"This feels so good", Whumpee sighed in relief.

When the water started to cool, they unplugged the tub and watched the water level go down. They frowned at how much dirt and grime had come off.

Whumpee turned on the shower head and started to clean their hair.

When satisfied they lathered up their body one last time, and did their final rinse.

Whumpee dried themself with the towel, then wrapped the towel around their soaked hair.

They fiddled with their collar for a while. The thing was soaked, but Whumper didn't remove it, and they had no right to remove it on their own.

"Master didn't leave a brush for me", Whumpee looked around, "they did say they wanted to continue taking care of my hair."

Whumpee opened the bathroom door and got down to crawl.

Whumper smiled as Whumpee rounded the corner.

"Feeling better?", Whumper sat up.

"Y-yes master", Whumpee crawled to Whumper's legs and happily nudged their head against Whumper, "thankyou so much."

"Good, go ahead and sit down", Whumper pointed then reached for the brush, "I'll brush out your hair."

Whumper unwrapped the towel from Whumpee's hair and watched it fall to Whumpee's shoulders.

"I will admit you do smell better", Whumper started to run the brush through the damp hair, "I suppose that's nice."

"Did your pet have a good idea Master?" Whumpee looked up at Whumper, "I hope I did."

"Yes I suppose you were due for a wash", Whumper untangled some of the hair, "did you enjoy the bubbles?"

"Yes Master, they felt good", Whumpee looked up at Whumper again, "it all felt good."

"That's good", Whumper continued to brush until they were satisfied, "your hair feels softer as well."

Whumper eyed the collar, "I forgot to take this off, it's wet", they reached for the clasp and removed it, "we'll let this dry for a while."

Whumpee happily nudged their head against Whumper's leg again.

"I guess you are feeling better", Whumper leaned back, "climb up here, come on. I'm sure you would love a nap after that shower. Too much for a dog to do in an afternoon."

Whumpee did as they were told and climbed up onto the furniture. They rested their head on Whumper's lap.

Whumper patted Whumpee's head for a few minutes before resting their hand on Whumpee's back.

"My silly little pet having human thoughts", Whumper chuckled, "that stupid brain of yours should only worry about pleasing me, that's all it's good for."

Whumpee gently nodded, "yes Master, please forgive me", Whumpee whispered, "I will work hard and be a good pet for you Master."

"Very good", Whumper grinned, "now go to sleep."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

[cyberwhumper]

Imran had already known, going in, that the conditions of the breeding facility where he now found himself standing would be less than ideal when compared to his old employer. He knew the smaller budget would reflect on the conditions the animals were kept, how the entire process was executed, and what the odds of the transaction working out were. Yet he is still shocked when the cages are small, cramped, filthy. His heart aches for each and every single one of the biopets kept within, but he knows he realistically can't possibly save them all.

Just one. Just the one. That would be enough.

With every step further into the facility, the mental image of Horus degrades in his mind. Guilt gnaws at the forefront of his conscience, and it comes crashing down heavily once he sees with his own eyes what had become of the once powerful animal he had met all those years ago.

Tied to the center of the tiny room, the creature barely had any slack to move. Its body is covered in a litany of sores and bruises, and the emaciated skin clings to bone like a tight-fitting suit. As soon as its gaze meets the handler's, a shrill noise leaves its mouth. Terror, it seems, was all that remained. The knot in Imran's stomach feels so tight it's nauseating.

He hopes to appease the animal despite the handler's amused comments over the pointlessness of the effort. Horus doesn't look at him. Doesn't even seem to recognize him. It pulls away from Imran as best as it can, tail pinned between its exhausted legs, tears streaming down its face, body shaking so hard it makes the chains holding it in place clink. Talking to it has no effect. Even touching it, an act that would have always promptly elicited a bite response, does nothing.

Imran barely remembers the rest of the transaction.

At some point money had exchanged hands, the biopet was sedated, and he now found himself clutching the battered creature tight to his body as if it could possibly flee. The walk back to his vehicle feels shameful.

What have I done? No. I couldn't possibly have known this would happen. But it only happened because of me, didn't it?

The device on the back of its skull has been removed. Vandermeer leaves no loose ends. Imran doesn't want to think of what the withdrawals must have been like for the animal to go through. Death would have been a kinder choice than this.

The disgraced doctor swallows his guilt, and gently lays the biopet on the backseat. The drive would be long, but the worst, he hoped, was already over.

I'm so sorry, Horus. I promise I'll take care of you this time.

[OC INDEX]

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[caretaker-of-the-toys-au]

Now that they're all introduced in my AU's canon... Here's the reference art for all of them! By god this took a lot out of me, I think it was week-long endevour. That said, yes, the humans as well as Kissy, Poppy, Huggy, and Ollie are all open for asks/request work as well!

[meraki24601]

Ring

“Whumpee, where did you get that ring?”

Caretaker had gotten used to Whumpee flinching. It seemed they hadn’t stopped since they were released from the hospital. Or, maybe it had started even before that. Before Whumper had taken them, or even further when they had first gone to file a restraining order. But they hadn’t expected them to flinch away from the curious question.

That was all the answer Caretaker needed. “You know, Whumper is dead. You don’t have to keep wearing their ring.”

“I can’t take it off.” Whumpee’s voice was small. They kept their head down as they stirred the pot of soup nearing boiling on the stove. 

Caretaker blamed the fumes from the onion Whumpee had chopped up earlier for the tears forming in their eyes. “You’re safe now, Whumpee. I know I can never make it up to you for not believing you sooner, but I swear I will never let anyone hurt you like that again. You can take off the ring.”

“It’s stuck. I can’t take it off.”

“Oh.” Caretaker’s hands stilled as they placed the last spoon on the table. “Would you like some help?”

“Yes, please.” 

Whumpee held very still as Caretaker approached and guided them to stand beside the sink. They didn’t shy away from Caretaker’s touch as the ring was slowly worked from their swollen finger but curled in on themselves and took three giant steps back the moment they were free. The mark left on the skin where the ring had sat dragged a whine from Whumpee’s throat. 

The inside of the ring had been engraved. Imprinted into Whumpee’s skin were four letters: 

M.

I.

N.

E.

Whumpee fell to their knees, holding the finger away from their body. “I’ll never be free.”

Caretaker wrapped a bandage from the kit under the sink around the possessive letters. Kissing Whumpee’s knuckles, Caretaker whispered, “You are free. Whumper is dead. I killed them. I swear on my life, no one will ever touch you again.”

[silky-nereid]

— i don’t know why i bite

tw : manipulative behavior, minor injuries, dead things as an gifts, major injuries, barn and farm inaccuracies, implied death.

yandere!caretaker x monster!reader/you

Yandere! Caretaker who lives on a farm and harvested a couple of corn cobs for side dishes and notices a trail of blood in their barn.

Yandere! Caretaker who finds you injured curled up in the hayloft, surrounded by hay and manages to catch you despite your claws scratching them and biting them.

Yandere! Caretaker who immediately puts you in a metal tub to wash you and tries to put a muzzle on you to stop you from biting them.

“Watch it!” They grumbled. “I’m trying to help you.”

Rolling up their flannel patterned sleeves, holding a simple hose and different types of shampoo bottles to see which one would work better.

They filled up the metal tub but you had other plans and scurried out of the tub. Trembling and immediately curled up in a ball, your clawed hands still desperately tried to tear off the muzzle.

Yandere! Caretaker who still searches up methods to gain your trust and carefully dressed your wounds.

Yandere! Caretaker who buys equipment to take off the matted fur/matted feathers if you weren’t able to preen them due to your state.

Yandere! Caretaker who tries to figure out what type of food that you’ll eat and makes sure that you get daily meals.

Your face had been buried in the fresh bowl of meals rather than leisurely being sprawled in the hayloft surrounded in a bed of hay. You finished eating and dug your nails in the wooden poles climbing up into the hayloft, blood filled your mouth and hearing the familiar boots hitting the gray concrete.

They watched you climb down and saw the blood dribbling down your skin which immediately caused them to pace towards you with a first aid kit. A dead rat was spat out from your mouth onto the concrete floor.

“You got me worried.” They wiped the blood from your mouth. “Don’t scare me like that. Is this a gift for me?”

The corners of their lips formed into a smile when you purred/chirped in response as you climbed up the wooden poles to the hayloft and buried yourself in the hay.

Yandere! Caretaker who ‘upgraded’ your living space from the barn to their farmhouse and has to bandage up their own injuries but they weren’t as deep now; progress.

Yandere! Caretaker who increasingly grows protective of you after you curled up next to them and they noticed a collar around your neck that they somehow hadn’t seen before.

Yandere! Caretaker who begrudgingly contacts the number on the back of the collar after doubt sets in as they look at you, somehow sleeping on the tiny couch and immediately hangs up after a single hello from the other line.

Yandere! Caretaker who throws away the collar and goes back to the couch where you’re still sprawled on and slowly wakes you up to treat the infection from the collar.

Your claws scratched the doorframe of upstairs, hanging upside down and occasionally gnawing on the top of the frame.

“Get down from there. You’ll get hurt,” they said. “Your breakfast is almost done.”

They knew that noise of you climbing down the doorframe and still struggling down the stairs. Hearing the knock on the spring door and leaving the pan on the counter to see a well dressed duo on the other side of the door, they walked to the spring door and took one foot out.

“Can I help you two?” They asked.

“You have what’s ours,”one said. “It escaped and we tracked it down here. Hand it over and we will be on our way.”

“You must be in the wrong place.” They crossed their arms. “You both should go back on your way and leave.”

A familiar purr/chirp echoed throughout the silent farmhouse that made their heart drop.

Yandere! Caretaker who isn’t afraid of getting their hands dirty if it means to protect you and finds your trembling form poorly hidden and tries desperately to calm you down because they hate to see you in pain.

Yandere! Caretaker who slowly spoils you to make it up for the bloodshed but you seem to refuse every time which slowly chips away at them; were you starting to be ungrateful?

Your gaze stuck on the outside, bright blue sky rather than the stuffy farmhouse that seemed to grow smaller and smaller with each day that passed. Perhaps they would like a gift for a farewell? You left a small mouse on the counter, it didn’t move as it just lied on its side.

The fresh breeze against the clean body and you started to move further and further away from the farmhouse. It bloomed with a unrecognizable sting as it wasn’t the familiar pain that always embedded itself into you but it was freeing; better than—

A loud ringing echoed throughout your head, guttural cries escaped your lips. Your face buried in the fresh grass, it hurt to breathe, a familiar scent came in. Through your blurred vision, you saw the intricate designs on the boots that belong to them, your claws desperately grabbed the lower pant leg but failed and grabbed the dirt instead.

“You’re hurt,” they said. “Let’s get you inside now. I’ll patch you up and you will be good as new.”

They meticulously moved you back inside and back onto the familiar comfort of the small couch yet the trembling continues throughout your body, desperately clinging to their warmth. Your face buried in their abdomen, a familiar soft purring/chirping escaped your mouth.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” They cleaned the dirt from underneath your nails, wrapped and cleaned the wound on your back. “Stay here with me and I’ll care for you.”

[south-sea]

It's me again!! If you so desire to take another art request- if you've got any OCs associated with the Second Chance AU that you've been dying to show off, please draw them! This is your full permission to be self-indulgent.

stumbles in here nearly two weeks late HOW ABOUT A SONIC'IFIED CARETAKER?! i finally got a design for him i can show here

despite his looks, he has good intentions (probably). all teeth and no bite (except when he actually does). smokes like a chimney when he's stressed (that's the joke, he's always stressed).

he's an inventor/programmer, and thanks to metal, a little bit of a mechanic at this point too. i wouldn't consider him a particularly empathetic or intentionally-kind person, but some would argue his actions suggest otherwise.

a prime example of this being he is more or less responsible for why shadow/metal have a house where they do, given it's also where he himself lives. shortly after he'd taken in metal for repairs, shadow tagged along; he saw the place looks like permanently-night with electric blue nebulas, got a tad emotional about it, stayed the night. caretaker provided him a comically oversized blanket and a suggestion: go seek out the city owner tomorrow and request housing here.

so he did, and it was approved. caretaker here's quite close with the city owner, so he may or may not have put in a good word in advance.

metal, despite seeing him as a caretaker, still ended up "moving in" with shadow instead. caretaker's not exactly one for permanent company in terms of sharing his house long-term, so it worked out for everyone.

above all else, i'd consider him to be hospitable, but ultimately self-interested when you pull back the curtain. he's not a bad person, but he's not exactly a good person, either. he's just learned how to present himself as a fair balance, and occasionally the situation's just right to inspire what empathy he is capable of and directs it into bettering someone else's circumstances.

metal, being a robot, is the ultimate example of this: caretaker relates a whole lot more to machines and whatnot than others. he views metal as some kind of family first and foremost, and something like his own greatest project second.

when they're synced, metal absolutely refers to him as "father" by pure reflex. caretaker lets his slide; it's not really something metal can control, anyway.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

thinking about the difference between whumper’s harshly and violently and carelessly throwing whumpee’s beaten up, barely conscious body onto the cold floor in their cell, and caretaker’s gently and carefully and lovingly laying whumpee’s wounded, barely conscious body on the soft mattress of their bed

[whump-side]

Re:draw series

I missed drawing Birb! I have no idea where to go with his story, that's why pictures of him and Caretaker are scarce. Anyway, here's the redraw of one of the first art involving Birb's caretaker. Love me some feral caretaker ❤️

Suggested by @notactuallyatreefrog

Old version :

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #10 - Happy Birthday, August! Part II

Previous / Masterlist

CW: kidnapped whumpee, captivity (kinda), defiant whumpee, whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, forced to kidnap references, vampire caretaker, unwilling whumper, forced to be whumper, ALOT of self-loathing and fucky thoughts and guilt and all of it, weapons, adult language, mentions of blood, brief mention of vomit/nausea, reference to toxic/abusive family dynamic (if I've missed any, please let me know! <3)

Part two! A long time coming! The final part should drop in the next few days/this week! :D thank you to the amazing @whumpcereal for her AMAZING beta on this 🥺🫶

---

August has always dreamt of cake on his birthday, the warm scent of sugar and butter taunting his vampiric senses like forbidden fruit. The cake would be chocolate, of course. Every human loves chocolate; it must be the tastiest thing on Earth. This year, there would have been one hundred and thirty candles, barely fitting on top of it. And August could blow them all out and make his birthday wish. Just like the humans do.

But if the flickering flames on his imaginary cake could really grant his wishes, he wouldn’t wish for chocolate. With a single puff of breath, he’d wish to rewind time and erase this horrific day out of existence. Or, perhaps, he’d wish for a clean slate - a life free from the regret that eats him alive. But above all, he would wish to finally be happy - whatever that means. But where does August get the gall to wish for his own happiness when he is the catalyst of another’s misery? 

He stole a human being tonight. He crept through the streets, snatched them from where they slept and locked them away. He’d lurked in the shadows and all, like a true monster. As far as the human is aware, they saw the stars for the last time this eve and they’ll never feel fresh air stream through their lungs again. August could see it the moment their eyes first locked - the human feared the blood coursing through his own veins was his no longer, that he had become nothing more than food.

No, if August had birthday candles, he should be wishing for the human’s pain to stop, not his own. He should pray for any memories of this miserable night to fade away, and for the human to feel nothing but warmth and safety for the rest of his days. How dare August make this about himself?

How dare August call himself a doctor?

Really, if August is anything other than a feral creature, he is a coward. He can’t find a drop of courage in his selfish core to face the human. Of course not. That would mean facing up to what he has done to the human.

Instead, August kneels in the bathroom, and he hugs the toilet bowl tight in his arms. He sputters and heaves as spit dribbles from his lips. It’s a battle against wave after wave of never-ending nausea. August is sickened by himself. Repulsed by the cruelty that he and his kind are capable of. Even if he earned his family’s stamp of approval tonight - something he’s always dreamed of and strived for - it wasn’t worth it. Not one bit. He refuses to hurt, abuse and sacrifice an innocent life for a scrap of their regard. Curse their prideful smiles and damn their hollow praise.

CRASH! Shattering glass pierces through the silence in-between retches. August’s heart leaps up into his throat, and his gut clenches.

His human is awake - no! August shakes that insidious thought from his head. Not his, and never his. The human does not belong to him. 

August wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole. The thought of skulking down to that basement with his tail between his legs and shame swelling in his chest - it turns his already churning stomach with bubbles of dread. Still, he must. He peels himself from the bathroom floor, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and makes his way downstairs to greet his guest. There’s not a second spare to wallow and drown in self-pity.

He grips the stair bannister for dear life, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. Still, he forces his dragging feet to move one step at a time down to the basement. There’s no backing out of this, no turning and running now. August needs to face the music–or face his victim, rather. He must fix what he’s done to this poor human.

There is the sound of a jarring crash, and then another dull thud resonates from behind the locked basement door. August’s shaking hands fumble to fit the key in the lock. With a click, the door opens, and he cautiously descends into the dimly lit basement, every footstep echoing in the sudden, eerie silence.

That is until he hears the human’s heart. It pounds like a war-drum in August’s ears, each beat louder and more erratic. August flicks the light switch, and as the basement floods with light, he freezes on the spot, beyond horrified at the scene before him.

His life's work, decades of dedication, lay in ruins. His surgery looks like the aftermath of an explosion. All the furniture is flipped over, and shards of shattered glass sparkle across the floor like jewels amongst the blitz. Charts and graphs once meticulously hung on the wall now dangle in tatters, their scientific data reduced to meaningless scraps. His medicinal cabinets have been ransacked; trails of viscous liquid snake across the concrete floor from countless broken vials. The air is thick with the acrid smell of chemicals.

And there, behind his masterpiece of destruction, cowers the human, pressed flat against the farthest wall, a scalpel gripped in trembling hands held out before him. Its sharp tip is pointed in August’s direction, glistening against the surgery's harsh strip lights.

August has seen fear in human eyes more times than he can possibly count, but he has never seen fear like this. The human’s eyes burn with such primal terror that they touch the very core of August’s being. In the man’s eyes, August sees his own fear, his own isolation and his own despair. But August stays there, unable to look away no matter how it hurts him. He is trapped in this man’s stare, lost in a labyrinth of his own reflections.

But August feels something else too. A raw and untamed emotion. Rage. All-consuming anger that makes goosebumps prickle down the vampire’s pale skin. Rage courses through the human’s veins like a river of molten lava.

“You stay the hell back!” the human roars until his voice wavers and wobbles. He swings the scalpel into the empty space between them, stabbing at the air. “Don’t you dare come near me!”

August’s hands fly up in surrender. Words escape him. What could he possibly say to make this right? Where does he even start? Surely nothing he could say could do justice to his regret.

“I’m sorry-”

That’s the first thing that blurts out of August’s pathetic mouth. Because it is the only and the most sincere thought that comes to him. As though his apology could ever mend the damage or heal the pain he’s caused tonight.

August is shaking now. He can’t stop. His palm slams against his mouth as he chokes back a guilt-warbled cry. “I’m - so…I’m SO sorry. I - I don’t - I…I -I never. I didn’t want to hurt you. I - I won’t hurt you! I don’t want this. Please - y-you have to believe me. You’re safe here-”

August moves without thinking, over the rubble and glass shards. He moves barely an inch closer, and the human erupts into panic. Like a great cat, the human swiftly pounces and flips the table in front of him to form a barricade, stopping August dead in his tracks. Surgical instruments clatter about, and yet more glass scatters across the cement floor. 

“I SAID STAY BACK!” the human brays like a feral animal. His chest heaves dramatically as his lungs seem to fight for breath, and he takes an unsteady step back to create even more distance between them. Gingerly, he cradles his hand, still clutching the scalpel. A gasp escapes his lips as crimson wells from a sudden gash. The tang of iron hits August’s nostrils, drool coats his tongue and his fangs tingle, ready to feed. He wrestles with his animalistic instincts and pushes back the unwanted and primal hunger that threatens to take over. He knows he doesn’t want it, but his body thinks he needs it.

The human had hurt himself in his own destructive frenzy. August can’t help but feel responsible for that too. But that doesn’t seem to deter the human, in fact, it fuels him. He launches himself at the countertops. In one fluid motion, sweeping his arms  across the surfaces, clearing it of every single object in a deafening cascade that shatters across the floor.

“HUMAN! PLEASE STOP!”

The human doesn’t speak, but a slow, cold anger radiates off him. Brows slam together, his jaw clenches until the muscles stand out starkly. A single word, each syllable dripping with disdain, finally leaves his lips:  "'Human'?"

August immediately realises his mistake. Guilt eats him from the inside out. You utter barbarian; he scolds himself.

“I have a name, you know!” The human snaps incredulously, bloody hands curling into fists.

“Of course, of course! Just…” August breathes, “What is your name?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?!”

The bookshelves are the human’s next victim. He doesn’t bother pulling or ripping at them; he just bulldozes them with a barge of his shoulder. The shelves topple with a cacophony of splintering wood and flapping pages. His gaze is already fixed on his next target: a framed diploma hanging on the wall, defying the human’s rampage.

“Wait, no! P-Please, not that!” August begs, hands clasped together in supplication. The diploma represents his proudest achievement, everything that he’s worked so hard for. It is the only proof August has that there may be good in him somewhere. “Please! Don’t destroy anything else! I just need you to hear me out!”

“Open the door and let me walk out, vamp,” the human scowls, glossing over August’s pleas. “Or do I have to go through you?”

August swallows hard, the human’s casual threat sending a fresh wave of terror through him. He doesn’t doubt the human’s raw strength or willpower for even a second. The destroyed furniture and the fiery defiance in his eyes promise more violence. A heavy silence stretches between them, thick with tension.

“I - I want to help you - please just let me explain all of this-”

The human slams his fist into the nearest wall, a crater of dust left in its wake. August flinches into himself. Then, the man lets out a sound that no soul should ever have to hear. It’s a keening cry - a grieving wail for the life he fears he has lost. It rocks August to his core. It’s bloodcurdling. 

“Why’d you choose me, huh?!” The human seethes, damn near foaming at the mouth. “Is it because I sleep rough on the streets? Is that it? Because my life is so fucking expendable?!”

Then, it’s as if a dam has burst. The human’s face just crumples as a choked sob croaks from his lips, barely even audible. Slowly, he slides down against the wall. Head in hands, shoulders slumped, any bravado completely drained from his posture. 

“You knew no-one would come for me… didn’t you?” The human manages a whisper, his head hung low in defeat. Words just seem to keep failing August time and time again, he can only watch miserably and quietly. 

“DIDN’T YOU?!” the human bellows, eyes bloodshot and wild as his head shoots up. August flinches at the outburst.

“What gives you the right to play god?! What makes my life worth any less than yours, or any other person you could have plucked from the damn street. It was a shitty life. But it was my life! There was nothing left to take from me, and you took it all anyway. You’re a… you’re a parasite.”

August bites his lips and nods, a silent, pathetic apology. He is a parasite. Every word burns like a red-hot fire poker but he knows he deserves every scorch. Scarlet-shame colours his cheeks. Monster, parasite, animal - he’s all of the above.

“I won’t stop fighting you,” the human huffs through tears of fury. “I won't stop until I kill you, even if it kills me. You're right. I have nothing, and no-one. Nothing to lose but everything to gain. So if I’m going to go down, I'm going down swinging. Do your worst…leech.”

Leech.

August has always thought of himself as a healer. A protector. It is here, in this moment, he finally realises he is nothing more than the predator he was born to be. Afterall, there is no denying what he has done. He did take the human, he took away everything the human had to take.  He, too, sinks to the floor in devastation, landing heavily in a cross-legged slump opposite the tear-streaked human. 

Worst birthday ever.

August is drained and depleted, but he won’t waste any more breath on defending himself; he isn’t worthy of any defence. But the very least he can do is comfort the human - help him to weather the storm and be the anchor he needs right now.

“You can keep the scalpel,” August sniffles, “if it gives you some comfort. If it helps you to feel safe.” It’s an impotent gesture. A scalpel would be useless against him in combat if it really did come to that, but hopefully the human can see the sentiment behind the offer. “All I ask is for a minute of your time, and I promise, I will explain everything to you.”

The human stares at the scalpel in his hand and then locks eyes with August’s in a silent duel. No accusation, no defiance this time - only a deep well of desperate inquiry burning in their depths. A million silent questions hang in the air. He begrudgingly nods for August to go on.

“I will take you home tomorrow morning. I swear it. I wish I could open the front door for you and let you stroll free and wave you off into the world, but we’re deep in vampire territory right now. You wouldn’t last five minutes out here on your own. You’ll be snatched back up in a heartbeat, and by a creature less...inviting than myself. We will go after sunrise tomorrow and not a minute later, you have my word.”

“Your word,” the human spits, “Your word means jack all to me.”

“Then let me prove that I am who I say I am - a man of my word. Let me show you to a bed for tonight. Let me give you food and water, and a pillow to rest your head. And then I will leave you be, to get all the sleep you want and need, and I will keep to myself. The next time you see me, it will be to make our journey back to human territory.”

“...Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking for your trust.” Heaven knows August doesn’t deserve it, could never earn it. “I’m asking, from the bottom of my heart, for your leniency. You could, and probably should, drive a stake through my chest for what I’ve put you through. I cannot say I would blame you, if you did. But…why don’t we both survive the night, and come tomorrow we go our separate ways?”

Relief floods in as the human seems to reluctantly ponder the deal. It’s just a night. They just need to make it through the night, and then they can both go back to their separate lives and try to forget each other's faces. The human must realise that too, because his boiling anger seems to simmer down. August rises to his feet and slowly moves across the room to extend a helping hand. The human only grunts his curt refusal and snubs the offer, forcing himself up off the cold and unforgiving ground. 

“Spare bedroom. First floor. It’s all yours for the night. I’ll show you to it.” August nervously beckons the human over as he heads towards the basement door. The man sluggishly follows behind, keeping a distance that feels like miles. August feels distrustful eyes burning into the back of his head. He half expects to feel the scalpel pierce his spine any second.

But it doesn’t. As August leads the way upstairs, their unified steps echo strangely in the emptiness of the house. With each turn, the sheer scale of this place, his home, hits August anew. In the company of this poor stranger he’s pulled from the grime of the street, the house feels absurdly oversized. Every step reveals yet another opulent space – a bathroom, a bedroom, a study, a library, another bathroom.  August marches him through this excessive display of wealth with a sinking heart. Does he truly need all this, especially when the man trailing behind him apparently doesn’t have a penny to his name or a roof over his head?

August pauses before what is now the third bedroom door they’ve come across, this one already ajar. Inside, the air is stuffy and still, as though the room hasn’t been disturbed in decades, and it hasn’t; it is  untouched and unslept in. A sliver of moonlight creeps through the drawn curtains and slices across the four-poster bed. 

“This is yours,” he motions the human through the doorway, “for the night-” he quickly repeats. He chooses every word with due care and diligence, to reaffirm that this situation is by no means permanent.

Hesitantly, the human steps inside. His eyes flit across the ornately carved furniture and over thick layers of dust. August takes his moment to disappear down the hallway, returning minutes later with a tray holding a jug of water, a glass and a bowl of steaming chicken soup - he was lucky to find the tin of it at the very back of his cupboard. A strained smile tugs at August’s lips as he sets it down on the nightstand. 

Again, the human recoils from him, pressing himself into the corner of the room.

“I’ll go now, okay? I-I hope you can get a good night's sleep. If you need me, for anything, my bedroom is on the very end of the hall, on the left”.

“I won’t need you,” the human scoffs. “Go. Leave.”

The rebuff curdles August’s smile, his lips twitch nervously. “As you wish…” he mutters, stalking towards the door with defeat. Hand on the doorknob, he pauses, “My name is August, by the way. Could I please at least know your name, too?”

Rooted to the spot, the human squares his broad shoulders, a challenge radiating from his posture. “Names are sacred, leech,” he declares, teeth gritting together. “I plan to keep that secret for as long as I can keep my mind.”

The human’s words strike August like a physical blow. The air whooshes from his lungs, deflating him like a pricked balloon. Regret, sharp and bitter, settles in his chest. He can’t stay a second longer, not with the humiliating spark of unshed tears threatening to spill. His family is right, he’s a weak and pathetic excuse for a vampire. With a twist of the doorknob, he flees down the hall to his bedroom. He collapses onto his bed and buries his face in the pillow.

— 

For the human, however, sleep will be a stranger tonight. Any last vestige of drowsiness flees as the vampire vanishes. Sleep just isn’t in the cards. He has to hold out until dawn. He scrambles for anything he can get his hands on to barricade the door. It’s his first line of defence overnight;it will give him a fighting chance and an advantage over the creature.

The heavy dresser groans in protest as he drags it across the room to block the door, scratching and scraping the floorboards along its path. He doesn’t think twice about the damage, if the vamp gets to destroy his life, then he gets to destroy it’s property. Then the rickety chair and the desk it sits at gets pushed into the barricade. And the bedside tables, the bookcase too. Finally, his gaze falls on the bed and its sturdy oak bedposts. He pulls his scalpel from his pocket and digs his scalpel into the wood, feverishly wedging a chunk out of it with all the strength he has left. Shavings rain down as he whittles it down to a sharpened point. Slapdash, but a stake nonetheless.

Every creek of the settling house, every rustle in the wind sets the human’s teeth on edge. He crawls into the bed and slips under the blankets. He’s pleasantly surprised at how soft they are, and how the mattress feels like he’s floating on a cloud and how warmth seems to instantly envelop his fatigued body. He’s not felt this much comfort in…in, well, years.

But he can’t afford to let his weary eyes slip shut. He stays watching the door like a hawk from his bed, his staked clutched close to his beating chest.

Morning can’t come quick enough.

*!*!*!*!*

Dawn finds the human bleary-eyed but alert. His crafted weapon is still clutched tightly in his palms as he half-stares and blinks drearily at the barricaded door, as ready and poised to attack as he can be. Moonlight has dwindled and now sunlight beams through the velvet curtains instead. He leaps up, rips the curtains open and basks in the sun’s kiss. It’s something he thought he’d never feel again,

He survived the night. It’s nothing short of a miracle. A silent thank you rises in his throat as a single tear slips from his eye. Someone, he thinks, has to be watching over him. His parents, he hopes. There’s no way he would have made it through this without them.

Now the vampire just has to hold true to his promise. If his word holds any weight, the human will be back in human territory before dusk. Yet, the whole situation defies any logic. The human can’t wrap his head around the absurdity of it all. Why would a vampire snatch him, just to return him by nightfall, less than twenty four hours later? He can’t fight the feeling that a deeper motive lurks beneath the surface, a sinister plan at play. Suspicion clings to the human like cobwebs. Beyond the hospitality and kindness… the vampire has to be up to something.

The human dismantles his barricade and heads out to go downstairs. Every fibre of his being screams ‘it’s a trap!’...but the human can’t deny the smallest sliver of hope in his chest, piercing his bubble of suspicion. The vampire had kept true to its word so far, it had left him alone and untouched, fed and watered, a bed to sleep in. It hasn’t laid a hand on him nor tried to feed. In fact, it had kept far away.  Maybe the vampire deserves the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, there isn’t anything more to this than meets the eye, and there are no strings attached? 

But hope is a dangerous thing, tempting him to lower his guard and leave himself vulnerable for thirsty fangs to sink into. No, he thinks grimly, tightening his grip on the makeshift stake. He will not trust, cautious acceptance will have to do. He’s ready to fight with all he’s got when it all heads south.

He reaches the landing and sneakily peeks over the railing. The vampire stands by the front door, guarding it like a troll bridge. To stop the human from escaping? The vampire meticulously folds up his sleek, black umbrella and places it back in his stand. He looks so tall, impossibly tall, even from the human’s vantage point. The vampire is dressed in a three-piece suit and leather dress shoes that seems more suited to an office boardroom than house wear.

As the human strains for a better look, a sudden creak of the floor makes the vampire snap his head up. Chilling red eyes lock with the human’s in a way that sends a jolt of pure terror down the man’s spine. Would he be punished for this? Would the vampire strip him of his free will and send him marching down to the basement for punishment? He’s heard they can do that–and worse. All the fear sparks anew. He can’t catch his breath - he’s panicking.

But the vampire's eyes aren’t actually filled with the predatory and furious glint he expected. Instead, a swirl of emotions flickers within them - concern, sorrow,  even…anxiety? It’s a disarming sight. This creature looks nearly as worried as Lucas feels…

—

"There's been a change in plans,” August laments.

August could literally hear the human’s heart drop in his chest, like a lead weight falling into a deep well. The human’s eyes are wide with despair, and his mouth drops open as though he’s been struck across the cheek. A wave of guilt crashes over August, and he isn’t oblivious to how this looks. It looks like the betrayal and deceit the human has anticipated since he first set eyes on August.  August is well aware he just crushed the man’s hopes to dust, and confirmed every doubt and fear. But it’s out of his hands. Mother nature is a cruel mistress.

“No-” the human rasps, nearly falling down the stairs as his legs give out on him.  “No, vamp. You said you’d take me home. You said today. You promised-”

“That’s not the element that’s changed. My promises are sworn and imperishable. There is, however, a delay.”

"A ‘delay’…” The human repeats incredulously, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. His suspicion eats away at him, misplaced though it is. August is many things - a liar, he is not. But there’s no way the human could know that. Not yet, anyway. The human takes a cautious step back from August, staring him up and down with disdain. 

"A storm is raging outside. The streets are thick with snow and ice, and the skies are dark with thundering clouds. It’s too dangerous to make the drive.”

“I don’t care,” the human snidely retorts. “I’ll walk it if I have to. Just open the door for me, and I’ll be on my merry way. I’ll be out of your hair and you can have your big, lonely mansion all to yourself again.”

Yes, his lonely mansion. All to himself. The words sting more than August cares to admit. He winces like a knife is twisting in his belly. When the human goes home, he will be all alone again. It was nice…is nice…the company. Talking to someone that’s not a suffering patient or his own reflection in the mirror.  He already feels the emptiness settling over him once again. He longs for companionship, for someone to share his home with. He sighs, knowing that he'll have to wait a bit longer for his wish to come true. He can’t keep the human here–at least not indefinitely. But he will have to make the human understand that tonight is non-negotiable. 

“You can’t-” August shakes his head. The man would never make it home. Not with the minus temperatures and the blankets of snow.

“I can. I am. Move,” the human growls, his hands balled into fists. Only then does August notice the crude stake in the human’s white-kncukled hand. No, this human will never be his friend, but even still, August has a duty to him.

The human storms towards the door and tries to push it open. It doesn’t budge. He barges his shoulder into the door, desperately ramming it. Still it doesn’t give. Soon, he’s kicking and shoving and a warbled cry rockets up his throat. Despite his frantic assault, the door only cracks open slightly.

“Snow,” August chimes in, pointing to the falling white powder crumbling through the gap in the door. “We’re snowed in. Must be at least twelve inches of it, I would think.”

“No. This can’t be happening. We-We climb out the bedroom window!” The human’s eyes light up at the idea, sprinting towards the staircase in a panic.

“And then what will you do? Trek all the way back to human territory in this snowstorm? Do you know how far out we are?”

In the blink of an eye, the human tumbles to the floor in a heap, screaming into his hands, pulling at his hair. The blizzard howls like a banshee outside, a gust of snow blows in from outside. The human knows he’s stuck here. He’s trapped here, with a bloodsucker. He’s going to die. Or at least that’s what he must believe. 

“I can’t stay here. With you. I won’t do it.”

“Please,” August says. He resists the urge to move closer; there’s no point in riling the human any more than he’s already riled himself up.  “My word is my bond. I won’t harm you. But I can’t in good conscience return you to where I found you. I’m a physician. I can’t put anyone in harm’s way. To sleep rough on a night like tonight–it would be a death sentence.” 

The human laughs coldly. “Was this your plan all along? Crush my spirits? Delude me into thinking it’s my choice to stay?” 

“I don’t control the weather,” August sighs. “This doesn’t change a thing. I will still take you home as soon as the roads are clear.”

The human remains silent, his jaw clenched. With a final, hate-filled glare, he storms towards the stairs, and, like a sulking teenager, stomps upward in a whirlwind of fury. The slam of his bedroom door reverberates throughout the house.

But the human is still here. He is still safe. August hasn’t failed entirely. 

An exhausted breath escapes August’s lips. He isn’t used to this, the vulnerability of sharing his haven and bearing the weight of responsibility for another life. A knot of unease tightens in his gut. These forced close quarters may at least offer him a chance to ease the human’s fear and earn a crumb of forgiveness, but August can’t help but wonder –  will they be able to bridge the chasm between predator and prey?

This is going to be a long couple of days…

---

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[mj-iza-writer]

Whumper came down the stairs and glanced at Whumpee.

"Come on, you smell horrible", Whumper stood at the bottom step.

"Yes Master", Whumpee worked to stand up. Their small naked frame shook with the exertion of moving. They fell forward, but caught themself.

Whumper watched them semi concerned, "you okay?"

"Um yes Master, just a little weaker than normal", Whumpee limped toward them, "think I'm a little cold, that's all."

"Mmm-hmm, so you get two options for bathing today. Option one, a warm bath with some medical attention, but you do not get a meal tonight. Option two, you get cleaned by the hose outside, but I'll give you a nice meal for dinner."

"Uhm, may I have a warm bath", Whumpee followed Whumper up the stairs.

"Yes you may, that was a fast decision", Whumper started to walk to the bathroom.

"Yes Mas-master it's cold downstairs, so I think it's cold outside", Whumpee watched as Whumper prepared the tub, they glanced at the toilet.

"You're right it is cold outside", Whumper started the bath.

"Master you said I was right", Whumpee gleamed.

"Yes, I guess I did. You're right occasionally", Whumper grinned.

"Master may I use the toilet instead of the bucket", Whumpee looked at the toilet again.

"Go ahead", Whumper watched them.

"Alright, try not to make too much of a mess, and enjoy.... it... hold on", Whumper noticed something.

Whumpee froze as they had just gotten into the water.

"I'm sorry Master did I do something that made you unhappy", Whumpee worried, 'was this all a joke', Whumpee thought to themself.

Whumpee's skin quivered as Whumper felt around their back.

"No, I think you have an infection on your back", Whumper frowned, "I'll take care of it when I do your medicine."

"Yes Master", Whumpee lowered into the water and exhaled a sigh of relief.

Later Whumpee waited for Whumper in the living room.

Whumper had already finished medical treatment and decided to trim Whumpee's nails.

Whumper came out carrying a steaming bowl of something that caused Whumpee to drool.

Whumper set it on the coffee table in front of Whumpee.

Whumpee didn't dare look at it, but they savored the smell.

'I don't get dinner tonight', Whumpee reminded themself, 'I chose this.'

Whumper sat on the couch and pulled out their phone.

"You can eat that if you like", Whumper didn't pay any mind to Whumpee.

"Master you said I didn't get any dinner", Whumpee sat up on their knees to get closer.

"I know, but that infection on your back is pretty bad. I think your body is weak because of it. It would be better to give it sustenance to help", Whumper watched Whumpee sniff at the bowl.

"You going to eat it?", Whumper frowned.

"I'm sorry Master it smells so good", Whumpee looked at Whumper, "I appreciate this."

"You're welcome, now eat it."

Whumpee almost fell over with how good the food tasted. 'I haven't had warm food in so long and I had a warm bath today even', Whumpee smiled to themself. It made them feel almost human again.... they didn't dare tell Whumper that though.

"I'll get you some better medicine tomorrow when I go out", Whumper eyed the infection again as Whumpee ate, "hopefully we'll get that under control."

Whumpee looked up happily.

When done, Whumpee followed Whumper down to the basement again.

"Why are you acting sad?", Whumper frowned, "I did more for you than I originally intended."

"Yes Master, I apologize. I enjoyed being upstairs with you", Whumpee looked at Whumper sadly, "I'm lonely down here."

"I have one more surprise down here for you", Whumper pointed, "but this is where you stay. Right?"

"Yes Master", Whumpee looked at where Whumper pointed and saw a blanket waiting for them.

They limped quickly to the blanket, "is this for me?"

"Yes for right now at least", Whumper turned to go back up, "don't make me regret my kindness to you."

"Master, thankyou so much", Whumpee looked up at them with a smile.

"Yep", Whumper called from the top of the stairs.

At the sound of the lock, Whumpee pulled the blanket over themself and cuddled into it. They limped to a corner of the room and laid down.

The next day, Whumpee overheard Whumper leaving.

They hadn't seen Whumper yet, so Whumper hadn't taken the blanket away yet.

Whumpee was going to soak in all of the warmth they could.

Whumper now stood in the medicine aisle, looking at all of the options available.

"Sorry, I'm coming beside you", someone stepped closer and grabbed something, "got an infection?"

"My friend does, they're not able to make it into see a doctor right now. I thought I'd help them out. I had no idea there were so many medications though", Whumper frowned.

"Coming from a doctor I suggest they get into see one, but these should help hold them over until they can", the person grabbed something off the shelf, "I always recommend these to my patients."

"You're a doctor huh?", Whumper reached for the products, "thankyou so much, I appreciate this."

"Yes the names Caretaker", they reached a hand out.

"Whumper", they extended their hand for a handshake.

"If your friend needs a doctor, here is my card", Caretaker offered a business card.

"Thankyou", Whumper felt the wheels spinning in their head.

During the next week Whumper watched Caretaker, he knew their routines perfectly.

The medicine that was recommended had cleared up Whumpee's infection perfectly.

"Master, I feel so much better", Whumpee smiled as Whumper applied more medicine to the infected area.

"It definitely looks better", Whumper studied Whumpee's backside, "I'm glad."

"So I'm going out for a drive tonight again", Whumper stood and started to go to the stairs, "what does that mean for you?"

"I am to be good Master", Whumpee smiled up at Whumper, while trying not to draw attention to the blanket that was still down there.

"Good Whumpee", Whumper turned to go, but eyed the blanket, making Whumpee's heart sink.

"Are you enjoying having a blanket?", Whumper turned to them.

"Y-yes Master", Whumpee nodded.

"Good", Whumper sighed as they walked to the stairs, "I'll see you later."

Whumpee cuddled into the blanket after Whumper had left. They were careful not to let it touch the medicine, Whumper would punish them harshly if they messed it up.

Whumper watched Caretaker leave the office and get into their car.

Whumper followed Caretaker to a store they often frequented.

On the way out Caretaker found his path blocked by a car, then noticed his car was on fire.

Before he knew it, he was pushed into the car and they were speeding off from the scene.

"What is the meaning of thi....?", Caretaker was met with a gun, "who are you?"

Whumper had hidden most of their face with a mask.

"Place your phone in your bag and put everything in the backseat", Whumper commanded.

Caretaker sighed as they followed orders.

"Are my things back here? You broke into my car?", Caretaker frowned.

"How do you think your car caught fire", Whumper handed over a set of handcuffs, "put these on, hands behind your back."

Caretaker frowned as a firetruck sped by, "you are twisted."

Whumper chuckled, "you have no idea."

Whumpee heard Whumper crash through the door, and force open the bars that locked the basement.

"Oh no, they're mad", they pulled blanket closer trying to get every ounce of warmth before it was taken away.

Whumper came down the stairs, but someone was with them.

"Whumpee I've solved your loneliness issues, and your medical issues", Whumper announced as they guided the person to a kneeling position, "I can't take you to the doctor, so I brought one to you."

Whumper yanked off a blindfold they had forced onto Caretaker.

Caretaker looked around and locked eyes with Whumpee.

"Where am I?", Caretaker then glanced up at Whumper, "you?"

"Yes, you should really be careful with your personal information", Whumper chuckled, "you never know what someone is capable of."

Whumper unlocked the handcuffs, "if you move before I am at the top of the stairs you'll regret it. Am I clear?"

"Yes", Caretaker felt his throat tighten, this couldn't be happening right.

The bars slammed shut, clearing Caretaker to move.

They stood and quickly went up the stairs.

"It's locked", they came back down and eyed Whumpee.

"How long have you been here? Are you a captive too?", Caretaker frowned.

"I've been here a long time.... yes", Whumpee nodded, "if I may give you some advice."

Caretaker frowned, but nodded.

"Listen and do what they ask, or you'll look like me", Whumpee wasn't brave enough to pull off the blanket yet.

Caretaker sat down in the corner across the room, "I-I'm sorry, I need a little bit to think about what just happened."

Whumpee nodded, "okay", they whispered.

After a while, Whumpee noticed that Caretaker was shivering. They still had clothes on, but it was still pretty cold down their.

Whumpee looked down at their coveted blanket.

'I'm more use to this down here, than they are', Whumpee weakly stood and cautiously carried the blanket over.

Caretaker turned quickly when they felt the blanket cover them.

They looked up and watched Whumpee limp back to their spot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were naked under their. Please take this back, you'll catch a cold", Caretaker started to get up.

"No please, it's okay", Whumpee whispered, "I'm more used to it down here than you are. We don't always get a blanket down here."

Caretaker frowned, "what have they done to you?"

"I don't really want to talk about what I've been through", Whumpee looked down at their beaten body.

"Okay, I'm sorry", Caretaker sighed.

"Hey Whumpee", Whumper called from upstairs.

Whumpee got up as quickly as they could and went to the stairs.

"Yes master?", Whumpee limped up a few steps.

"Catch these", Whumper tossed down two bottles of water and another blanket, "I'm going to bed, don't be up too late."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou so much Master."

Whumpee handed Caretaker a water bottle.

"This blanket is probably cleaner than that one if you want to switch", Whumpee showed the blanket off.

"It looks thicker though, you use it", Caretaker gave a weak smile, "if you like, I'll give you a full checkup tomorrow, I can't imagine the last time you've seen a doctor."

"It's been a while", Whumpee sat down again, "I take it you were the doctor Whumper said recommended the medication I've been getting."

"Yes that was me", Caretaker nodded.

"Thankyou so much, I didn't feel good. I feel better now", Whumpee smiled, "Master says my back is better as well."

"That's good, I'm glad it helped", Caretaker watched Whumpee curl up on the floor.

"I hope it's okay, I'm quite tired", Whumpee yawned.

"I'll probably turn in soon to", Caretaker sighed. "I guess I don't have much of a choice right now."

Whumpee nodded, before resting their head on the floor, "goodnight, um doctor."

"Goodnight", Caretaker felt their heart ache.

'How long have you been here, and no one knew?', Caretaker thought to themself, 'the world went on, and you've been in the basement of a madman.'

Whumpee stretched out as they made happy sighs.

"I'll take care of you, and I'll get us out of this... somehow", Caretaker whispered, "I promise."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @thebejeweledwatercat

[cyberwhumper]

The animal is quite skittish. Despite being alone in the quiet room, able to do whatever it pleases, the creature chooses to spend days pressed up against the corner, terrified of imaginary punishments that don't seem to come. Even as Imran steps into the room to swap old food for a fresh serving, the biopet still doesn't move much from its spot despite being so obviously terrified of him. Every step makes Horus flinch in fear.

He had been so patient with it up to this point, giving the injured creature plenty of space and a consistent environment to help soothe its nerves, yet Imran still couldn't help but feel concern. It hasn't eaten in almost a week, it barely moves from the corner of the room, it whimpers if the man so much as looks it in the eyes. At night it cries itself to sleep, the soft sobbing carried through the house tugging painfully at Imran's heartstrings.

The bruises and cuts which littered its body blossomed into horrifying shades of crimson and purple, areas where he hadn't even noticed the animal was hurt seeming to be bruised as well. In fairness, his eagerness to remove the creature out of that squalid situation likely played a part. He should have inspected Horus better, assessed the damage more calmly, actually planned what to do once he got home. Not that it seemed to mind.

Imran doesn't know whether or not it's even intelligent enough to understand what's happening around it. In the eyes of an animal, the constant change in environments, owners, even down to the rules it's supposed to follow, must be extremely stressful. In a way, he almost hopes Horus doesn't understand, so that it may be spared the burden of knowing the full extent of what it has gone through.

It takes almost another entire week before Imran catches the faintest glimpse of progress, the slightest sliver of hope. The animal, hungry and desperate, had slowly dragged itself to the food bowl. He caught it passed out right on top, so exhausted it didn't seem to have had the energy to drag itself back. Food, he hoped, could be the way to coax the biopet out of its shell. To get confirmation that his strategy was working made Imran elated.

Perhaps one day he could live to see a situation in which Horus would truly be happy and healthy.

Perhaps then, and only then, he could feel like he atoned.

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