☢️🔞☢️ 26~He/Him~Artist This will probably be appreciated in Hurt/Comfort and Whump spaces? Feel free to send asks about anything, I try to be pretty open. Always try to excercise kindness where there's space, and remember, nothing is forever, and change will always come. 🐐 (icon by @motinthemainpot )
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Someone important to me died. I haven't been able to deal with it. I dont really know how. I'm torn between fury and guilt. The further I get from the incident the harder it gets to actually try to let myself process. I keep telling myself I don't have time to process it. I feel like I cant if I don't do it right. I've never been good at handling stuff like this. I dont want condolences. I really need help just. Knowing how to start. I know im not handling it well because I'm not handling it at all and I'm afraid it's going to set a precident for bad habits to get worse.
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Is it weird that I'd like to see more caretakers with disabilities? Just. Disabled people in literally any position but the whumpees honestly. Caretakers with chronic pain. Whumpers with wheelchairs. Let my mans with anxiety still be able to take care of others while anxious. Idk just. Not helpless disabled people please?
#loving that this one is getting more attention <3#if anyone has any stories or art about this sort of thing please add in the tags?
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"You don't know me. I'm not the same person anymore."
"That's okay. I'll get to know you again."
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@febuwhump 2025, Day 1. Vocal Chords.
OC Old Dude (He/him)
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He'd gone to the livestock auction for chickens. His great uncle had died and left his smallholding to him. Overgrown land full of weeds and a small house in desperate need of updating. He'd cleared out a section of the yard and had planned on getting half a dozen Bantums to get him started. Eventually he thought maybe a couple of old donkeys when he got the field cleared.
The boxie looked old for a pet, maybe 30 or so. Covered in scars and looked like he'd been hastily hosed down after a long period of being covered in his own filth. Long streaks of muck still clinging to him in places.
The men by the cage were jeering at the boxie.
"Nah look at the state of it, it's barely fit as dog bait"
"I thought Owens was meant to be coming today he usually has something decent"
Turning the tag on the cage to show the guide price
"£500 they're having a laugh, most expensive dog meat on the market at that price"
"Might be worth a punt if it goes cheap enough though. Give the guard dogs something to keep em busy this weekend"
The auction thankfully didn't drag the animals up one by one, the bids going too fast for that to be practical. The Bantums came up and he got them for less than he'd thought. He should go, something made him stay. The boxie came up. Opening bid a measly £50 it climbed slowly to £200 peering around he spotted the man he'd seen at the cage. Taking a deep breath he raised his number. The other man bid another couple of times but soon gave up, the worn out boxie not worth much.
Well this was a stupid idea. What the hell was he gonna do with a box boy at the end of its use? Maybe he could at least make him comfortable in his last days, like he'd planned to do with his donkeys.
The dog cage was hefted up onto the bed of his defender and strapped down. The cage of hens beside it then he was off home
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Have a random character i drew! This is Azazel! He's not having a great time. A bunch of cultists church members are attempting to purify this already pure boy. The only permanent damage he can sustain is holy damage, so that cross is probably gonna leave a mark, and i sure hope none of the communion wine in the back spills anywhere,,, thatd be a real shame lmao.
I spent, too long on this and burnt myself out with the background lol but I'm happy with how Azazel came out himself :)
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do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot
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A whumpee with terrible memory problems, worsened when under stress until they go blank and/or mute with terror while their mind scrambles to think about anything other than the growing panic fogging up their mind. What are they forgetting, what are they forgetting?!-
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Roadhog dealing with Junkrat’s gangrene-ridden limbs just days after Junkrat hired him.
Based on Chapter 1: Pain of the fanfic Kabobs by brickinthewall and maximum124
time to put my comics education to some proper use
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Can confirm <3
Wow, being a trans butch is awesome.
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I need more forced and painful transformation whump in my life.. "what's happening to me?" is such a good line
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chosen one not as in the one the prophecy foretold but as in lamb to the slaughter. as in the only person both brave and foolish enough to do it. chosen one as in sculpted, molded to be the perfect sacrifice to something expertly, divinely crafted to annihilate you wholly and surely. chosen one as in taken away. chosen one as in death sentence. chosen one as in goodbye
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Kane & Jim #57: Indulgence
Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist
content: recovery, comfort, starvation, body image issues, fear of torture, whumper turned whumpee
sorry for the long wait! i really do want to write more this year :)
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Before Kane could get a single word out, he was tackled.
He just barely managed to keep his balance and stop himself from toppling to the ground as Bellamy’s arms wrapped around him like a blanket, pulling him in warm and tight.
“You were dead.” His voice came out squeaky, thick with quick-forming tears. “There was that incident last month, but everyone thought that must have had to have been an impersonator. You’re truly here! Truly!”
“I’m here.” Kane hugged him back, but they only stayed like that a moment before Bellamy pulled back to see his face, still looking quite as though he couldn’t believe Kane were real.
“Where on Earth were you?” he asked, hands still clutching Kane’s arms with the grip of a man who imagined those arms would vanish if he let go.
“It’s a long story.” Kane took a deep breath. “Bellamy, I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. I’m so sorry for how I treated you. I know–”
“Oh, don’t worry about that right now,” Bellamy did free one hand then, requiring it to gesture flippantly and then wipe the tears from his face. “Appreciated, to be sure, but there will be plenty of time for that after more pressing matters. Please, do come in, darling.”
A soft smile grew on Kane’s face. Bellamy wasn’t angry with him, at least. “Thank you. I would love to.”
It was only after he’d crossed the threshold of the doorway that Bellamy dared to let go, though he didn’t let his eyes off Kane for a moment as he made his way to sit on a plush couch in the living room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, all politeness, though Kane knew exactly what he must look like. What Bellamy must see. Perhaps if Bellamy had seen him months earlier, he would have been unable to maintain such composure.
Not that Kane really minded at all. He was being offered food. “Yes, please.”
Before he knew it–Bellamy having dashed the whole way to the refrigerator and back–there was a pack of cold blood in his hands. “I’m able to warm it up for you, of course, but I do recall that when we were boys, you’d always said the pre-packaged never tastes as good reheated.”
“I don’t mind either way, nowadays.” Truthfully, Bellamy could have tripped and spilled the blood all over the floor and he would have gladly licked it up without much thought. He had before.
He bit into the soft plastic casing and drank. The cool blood was a bit stale, though nowhere approaching spoiled. He wouldn’t have cared if it was. It was delicious nonetheless, and after he’d exhausted what he could suck out through the holes, he tore the packaging apart and licked up every remaining drop clinging to the sides.
“It’s ethically-sourced,” Bellamy commented. “From free, willing, paid humans overseas.”
“It’s really good! Can I have another?” Kane asked before he could stop himself. He’d never been able to indulge before, not since his capture. He was grateful for what Jim had given him, of course. Grateful would be the understatement of the century. But Jim was one human, and he could only give so much at a time.
“Of course!” Bellamy clapped, just once, delighted. And when Bellamy returned, he had two.
Kane downed both, in the same manner as the first. Three meals, just like a human.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Bellamy started slowly, despite that it was very obvious he quite badly wanted to pry. His voice got a touch lower, gentler. “But Kane, my dear. Have you been… eating well?”
Kane crinkled the empty casings, something to do with his hands. He’d really been very proud of the progress he’d made. When he’d first seen himself in Jim’s bathroom mirror, he looked almost like a skeleton, every available bit of fat and muscle his body could spare cannibalized in its attempt to find something to keep him going, until there was nothing left.
He did look better now, after six months of regular meals. He was still far, far skinnier than he was before the hunters, but he had some meat on him now. His cheeks only sunk in a little bit. His collarbone jutted out in a way that just barely bordered ‘passably normal’. You could see the bones of his arms from the inner arm, but not the outer, so as long as he took care to hold his arms just so, no one could tell. Not that he ever really made an effort. His hair didn’t have bald patches anymore, didn’t shed every time he touched it. If he wore layers, which he always did–and not even for that reason–you couldn’t see his ribs. So long as one didn’t look too carefully, he could pass as a regular man.
But Bellamy always looked carefully.
Bellamy didn’t look starved at all. He didn’t have to try not to, of course. His skin was smooth and his face was full. His hair was thick and lucious and styled. He had the figure of a healthy man, one who had food available to him every single day of his life. He only wore one shirt and his abdomen didn’t fall inward from under his ribs like Kane’s did. He smelled like lavender cologne. He practically glowed.
“I… went through a period where I hadn’t been eating very well at all. But as of the past few months, I have,” he answered honestly.
Bellamy sat beside him. “Truth be told, I do mean to pry this time. On account of my increasing worry, you see. Where have you been all this time?”
“Human territory.” Kane looked down at the empty packaging in his hands. The label used the same phrasing Bellamy had–Free, willing humans! “I was captured by vampire hunters when I’d, I’d, ah, hunted f-for a new human. Things were not, um, good there. I wasn’t fed, as you’ve gathered. Then Jim, you remember Jim? He came and got me out. I’ve been living with him for the past seven months. Not owning him!” he clarified hastily, looking up then. “As roommates.”
“I see.” Bellamy’s eyebrows had slowly drawn together in concern more and more the longer Kane had talked. “Well, I’m certainly glad you’re out of there now, dear. I did always like that Jim boy.”
“And I’m sorry,” Kane tried again. “You were right about everything. About humans, about me, about our families, all of it. And I was a bad friend. Even before we parted ways, I always acted like I was better than you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this. I really am sorry.” And then, before he could stop himself: “Do you think we could try again?”
Bellamy smiled. “Well, I really am right about everything,” he mused. “I’ll admit, it’s all true. It took me a time to see as well, that you really were dreadful, though I never imagined I’d hear an apology from you.”
Though Kane had expected worse to start, it still tore a hole in him to hear Bellamy call him dreadful. Even if he knew it was true.
“That said,” Bellamy continued, “We were children. I was never the one bearing the brunt of your wrongs, and you’ve clearly turned over a new leaf. If even Jim has forgiven you, I see no reason not to. Absolutely, we can rekindle a friendship.”
Jim has not forgiven him: he’d made that clear. But he moved forward anyway. Maybe he could do that himself, too.
“I would love that.” Kane let out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding, like a weight had been lifted from him after a century. “Maybe–maybe you could visit sometime. If you want to. I’d have to get permission. Do you ever go to human territory? I mean, you shouldn’t, but if I got permission, Jim’s sister is a hunter, you see, so it should–”
“Oh, yes, the sister! Elizabeth, if I recall? Yes, I’ve spoken with her, though well over a decade ago,” Bellamy cut in. “I do imagine she’s quite pleased to have her brother returned.”
Kane blinked. “You know Liz?”
“Oh, Jim and Caroline had exchanged phone numbers that night we met, you see. Caroline and the young girl had had a few conversations, but the girl had stopped at some point when she’d realized we had no way to affect Jim’s situation. I do not mean to imply I know her, I’d merely answered the phone and handed it off to Caroline a time or two. She’d always sounded frightened when I’d been the one to answer, so I did not linger,” he explained. “My, she must be grown by now. How time flies!”
“Oh. That’s–she never mentioned,” Kane stammered. “Is Caroline still…?”
“Alive and well, I assure you, though she has moved on to greener pastures. She’s found love, you see. She lives with her boyfriend nowadays, though she’s over often enough that my kitchen is still stocked with human food.” Bellamy reached to collect Kane’s empty packages, which he reluctantly released.
“So she’s back in human territory?” he asked.
“No, just across town. Her boyfriend is no human.”
Kane’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Oh my.”
He supposed he shouldn’t be too scandalized by the thought of a human and a vampire together. Humans were people, he knew that now, he’d accepted it long ago. Still, it felt… odd, in a way he could not adequately explain.
Bellamy laughed. “You must get with the times, darling.”
-
They sat there chatting for hours, and Kane had almost never felt lighter. It was like he was someone else, a version of him he’d never been before, where he was not horrible to anyone and no one had ever been horrible to him. Bellamy didn’t know what happened, not really, and with him, it was like he could forget, too. Just for an evening.
Just until he happened to glance at Bellamy’s clock and notice the time.
He startled out of nowhere. “It’s late,” he gasped. “I’m not–am I going to be able to get home in time?”
“Well, I’m not sure, as I’ve no idea where you live,” Bellamy points out. “Will you?”
It was the wrong thing to say. Kane grabbed Bellamy’s sleeve, terror striking his heart. “Please don’t make me go out there,” he begged. “I can’t–please, Bellamy, please.”
“What?” Bellamy put his hand over Kane’s, though he made no effort to remove his hold. “Of course, dear. You may spend the day if you wish. Why on earth would I force you into the morning?”
It was all crumbling apart. Of course he couldn’t be normal.
“I’m sorry,” Kane squeaked out, tearing up, but before he could say more, he found himself enveloped in a hug.
“It’s alright.” Bellamy held him as he struggled to collect himself. “You needn’t explain. Or you can, if you’re ready, or once you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Kane breathed.
It was silent, then. He didn’t want to explain. Not yet.
When he’d stopped crying–not that long after, by Kane’s standards, to his pride–Bellamy pulled back. “You know, I was wondering… how you’re getting blood? Is it still Jim?”
“Oh, yes,” Kane sniffled. “He’s very generous. But he’s actually just recently stopped, and I’m to provide my own from now on. I was meant to go to my parents and clear my status as deceased, but at the last second I decided to come here.”
“I’m flattered,” Bellamy said haughtily, a hand on his chest. “You’d mentioned my going to visit you. What if I were to bring you blood? The kind you’d ‘sampled’ tonight.”
“You’d really do that?” Kane asked. The idea was beyond tantalizing–he could have all the blood he wanted, and not have to run across human territory, even the part with friendly hunters.
“I do. I would so like a chance to visit human territory without scaring the locals, besides!” Bellamy enthused. “A win for us both!”
The next night, Kane returned home with a bag full of blood packs. For once, he could see a future for himself.
-
…
He reviewed the grainy VCR footage captured by the security cameras at the de Sang estate. It was the strangest thing: he just ran up to the gate, stood there for a moment, and ran away. And everyone else was ready to write it off as if it had never happened, all hush-hush. The boring lot of them.
Anton smiled. “Well, look who’s not dead.”
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taglist in reblogs
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BTW i see these posts all the time like "ohhh i dont know what to comment on fics.." and every response is "keysmashes! or hearts!! anything works :3" and thats GREAT!! thats helpful!!
but: consider. if u genuinely like analyzing writing.. do u know ur just allowed to go through and quote your favorite parts and ramble abt what they mean to u and the author will LOSE IT WITH HYPE?
genuinely. i felt SO WEIRD the first time i did it.. but like. holy shit authors love it. its crack for authors. the first time i did it, it was on a fic that hadnt updated in half a year, give or take, and the author made 3 updates that month BECAUSE OF MY COMMENT.
LIKE. as an author every comment is INCREDIBLE!!! but also, dont feel like your comment has to be short or otherwise ur invasive or smth!! authors ADORE long comments more than ANYTHING.
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