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surplus-of-sarcasm · 8 months

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Burning Up

TW: Delirium, fever (symptoms described), mentioned pills (medicine, I swear)

What is this? It's the fluff snippet I promised my lovely nemesis @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 , and I really hope you enjoy this < 3 < 3

"Are you alright?"

The words seemed to snap the heroine abruptly out the void of her own muddled up thoughts, feeling as though her head were stuffed with cotton, everything an incoherent blur.

"Yes," she still answered back anyway, a trained response, one that stopped people from prying any further, from looking disappointed. It was the answer they really wanted to hear, even if it really disproved the question's validity.

Except the villain didn't smile, and he didn't leave the way he was supposed to. His brows were furrowed, and his arms were folded across his chest, and even though the hero didn't say anything, she just knew she didn't enjoy the sight.

She'd always hated it when he frowned, when he wasn't smiling, or wasn't even wearing the cocky smirk he always brought to their fights. She couldn’t tell what exactly in her response had warranted such a reaction from the criminal, but the guilt twisting knots at the pit of her stomach was very palpable.

As she stepped closer to him, pulling her rigid, aching muscles into a fighting stance; anything to distract him, the attempt hindered by her sluggish movements, all she'd managed to do was stumble towards him, losing her balance humiliatingly fast. It was only her luck that the villain's reflexes were still as razor-sharp as always, rapidly pulling her into his arms and steadying her with his weight.

And he was warm, and blissfully so, his grip firm but never unkind. As fervently as the crime-fighter wanted to lie down, the villain's embrace was comfortable, comfortable to the point that her train of thoughts, broken and destined to crash seemed to steady a bit, the world losing its edge of murkiness for just a moment.

Carefully, the villain pulled away and pressed his hand to her forehead, immediately retracting it away as if he'd been burnt. The guilt resurfaced again, an old, unwelcome demon resurrected, even more so as his frown deepened.

He let out a soft curse. "What were you thinking? Trying to fight when you're like this? You're burning up!" he interjected, his eyes wide, and a note of concern in his voice mixed in with the annoyance.

Except all her mind chose to focus on was the villain's choice of words to describe her state. 'Burning up', as he'd called it, didn't seem too far-fetched from the fire in her head, practically sizzling across her flushed skin, bile rising at the back of her irritated throat, her sore muscles burning with the pain, every movement agonising. Even if she couldn't see that she was burning, literally burning, it felt exactly as though she was.

"You're coming home with me, right now. Whatever ludicrous reason you might have for pulling this bloody stunt, I don't want to hear it," he stated, blunt as always, lifting the hero into a bridal carry almost as though it was second nature to him.

And in the midst of her delirious state, the hero hadn't memorised the route he'd taken home in his car, or how he'd accessed his lair, probably not being able to tell it was a lair as he carried her up into his actual residence. In a different state, the heroine's uncanny attention to detail would have engraved it all into her memory. She only registered the arms that were around her, and the pain that racked her body; her mind becoming too primitive to notice much beyond what she could physically feel.

Soon enough, she found herself being laid down on silk sheets. a thick blanket being drawn over her, and he took her temperature and he swore again, letting out a tired sigh. And just when the villain was about to leave the room. . ."D-don't g. . .go," she slurred, her fingers gripping onto his sleeve as firmly as she could manage.

"I'll just get a couple things for your fever. Won't take me long, I promise." Something in the villain's demeanour shifted, his gaze softening for a mere moment, except he doubted the heroine would take note of it.

There was no doubt about the fact that she would realise she wasn't holding onto his sleeve anymore as he left.

He came back with a cold compress, a glass of water and a bottle of pills, sitting himself at the edge of the bed. Carefully, with a gentleness she'd never known the villain to be capable of, he placed the compress on her forehead, the coolness heavenly against her burning, sweat-slick skin. "Okay, I just need you to sit up and swallow these," he said, and he knew full-well that if she was in a better state she wouldn't have taken the medication so willingly, ergo, she wouldn't have trusted him so willingly. He couldn't help it as a pang of guilt seemed to crawl across his skin, but he shook it off anyway, focusing his attention on steadying the heroine's shaking hands and making sure she swallowed those pills.

He realised he hated seeing the hero, his supposed nemesis, struggling to lift her head up and put it back down, every movement clearly agony for her. He'd imagined he'd revel in her weakness, but right now, nothing of the sort had happened.

The villain had found a washcloth in one of the drawers, using some of the remaining water in the glass to wet it and wipe the sweat off her face and neck, his fingers carding through her hair absently as he pushed himself inwards onto the bed, letting Hero huddle into his form for warmth.

"Y-you're. . .gorgeous," she rasped out, staring into the villain's eyes, taking in the features of his face, his figure, all of him, even in this clouded state.

"What?" he blurted out, completely taken aback, but still continuing to stroke through the heroine's hair.

"Haven't you seen yourself?" she questioned incredulously, as though it was the most obvious thing in existence.

The villain smirked in response, "Well, I guess I'm not narcissistic enough for your point to stick."

"Villain I. . .I'm in love with you," the hero admitted, and he'd never heard her voice so laden with conviction before, not when she'd promised to defeat him, and not any other time ever, her eyes locking with his own, her gaze unrelenting.

Sure, it still irked the villain that when the heroine had confessed her love to him, she'd been delirious, and that her strong emotion could possibly be a result of the aforementioned delirium, but that didn't mean these words held no weight or that the way the hero had regarded him - was still regarding him, had no effect on him.

So for once in his life, the villain sucked in a sharp breath and decided to risk it. "I'm in love with you too," he stage-whispered, carefully shifting the hero so that she was lying down on his lap and kissing her forehead gently.

Some locks are easy to pick, others not so much. That does not mean opening them is impossible, just that it may take a little longer to find the key. Most people aren't aware of what they are capable of feeling, of doing when their heart starts to beat for someone else. But they can never find out unless they have the courage to face the daunting possibility of taking the chance offered to them because love doesn't knock on the door; it walks in announced, and you get to choose what to do about it.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @m3rakii @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal @kaiwewi@those-damn-snippets @whatiswhumpblog

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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snaillamp · 7 months

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Sicktember - day 6

6. Sick and Injured

Whumpee coughed, feeling the vibrations ripple through their congested chest. Rolling over, they groaned, their head feeling heavy as another chill danced over their bones.

Pulling the blankets higher, they sniffed, curling into a ball as they shivered. Whumpee hated being sick. It hurt to swallow, it hurt to breathe, they felt to hot and the minute they cooled down, they felt too cold. They were hungry but the second they tried to eat food they lost their appetite…

They couldn’t win.

They had decided to wear shorts and a loose singlet, nestling under blankets, the best compromise they could think of, even if their legs felt a bit cold and achy.

Sighing, Whumpee cleared their throat of slimy phlegm buildup and sat up, immediately regretting it as the world swayed, making them feel nauseous. They forced their weak, shaking legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it over their shoulders shuffling towards the kitchen.

Their work colleague, Caretaker had made some soup and left it for them in the fridge, telling them to warm it up if they wanted any. When Whumpee hadn’t turned up to work a few days ago, Caretaker, knowing Whumpee lived alone, had come by to check in on them, finding them curled up in bed, delirious with the flu. Caretaker had then spent the past few days visiting them when they could, attempting to help nurse Whumpee back to health.

Whumpee had long suspected Caretaker had a massive crush on them. Caretaker would take any opportunity they could to talk to Whumpee, and Whumpee had caught them on many an occasion staring at them while they worked. Whumpee didn't mind, they liked Caretaker as well, maybe as a good friend or maybe something more, they couldn’t be sure…

Whumpee pulled open the fridge, shivering as the cold air washed over them. They found the small plastic container, filled to the brim with a thick, creamy soup. Whumpee lifted it out with both hands, not strong enough to hold it with just one. Carrying it their microwave, their blanket fell from around their shoulders.

Sighing in annoyance, Whumpee lifted the container into the microwave, trying to decide how long to put it in for through their hazy mind. '40 seconds should do.'

They pulled off the lid, punching in a number and pressing the 'START' button without even checking the time they had set it to. Bending down with their aching joints, they grabbed their blanket, pulling it back over their shoulders.

Whumpee stared out their kitchen window, zoning out as they waited, the buzz of the microwave droning on and on in the back of their mind. After a while they frowned, ‘That’s been in there for a while, maybe I should check it.’

Turning to the microwave, they gasped, rushing forwards. “No, no, no, no!” They begged, hitting cancel. They had pressed to 4 too many times, setting the microwave to 4 minutes and 40 seconds. Ripping open the door, they lifted the scalding soup from the microwave with the tips of their fingers, but as they tried to place it in their sink to let the soft plastic cool, the sagging bottom of the container split open, sending boiling soup splashing onto Whumpee’s bare legs. They howled dropping to the floor and watching in horror as their skin turned scarlet.

Thinking quickly, the grabbed their blanket, wiping off what they could, before rolling over onto the ice cold tiles of the kitchen, sighing at the brief moment of relief they provided. They moaned in pain as they inched across the kitchen, if they could get it to their phone, they could call for help except… a sinking feeling set in.

Whumpee had left their phone charging in their room, all the way on the other side of their house… Sobbing, they continued to crawl, making it halfway to their room, before they collapsed in a shaking ball. They couldn’t do it, they were too sick… their shins and feet were too painful. They could feel the large blisters forming as they curled up on their side and shut their eyes, accepting their fate, the hazy fever consuming them.

Caretaker lifted the doormat, finding the key and opening Whumpee's front door. The smell of Whumpee’s home washed over them as they stepped inside, followed by the smell of something... burnt?

“Hey, Whumpee? It’s Caretaker.” No reply. “Probably asleep…” Caretaker murmured to themself. Whumpee had been asleep a lot recently, given their condition. It wasn’t unlikey that they were asleep now, but that burnt smell was worrying them. Caretaker crept to Whumpee's room, expecting to find them huddled under a mountain of blankets, but their bed was empty. “Maybe they went to the bathroom.” Caretaker reasoned out loud. They crossed the hallway, into the bathroom. Nothing. “Huh… Maybe they moved to the main room?”

But when Caretaker entered the main part of the house, they gasped in horror. Whumpee was collapsed on the floor, unconscious, a trail of soup behind them. Caretaker ran over to them, shaking them awake.

“Whumpee, Whumpee, what happened?” Whumpee mumbled something incoherent, raising their head to look at Caretaker, before letting it drop back down to the ground. Caretaker looked them over, finding the burns on Whumpee’s legs and feet, causing them to gasp in shock.

Large, angry blisters were stretching over Whumpee’s burned legs.

Caretaker immediately jumped into action, picking up Whumpee under their arms and dragging their heavy, limp body to the bathroom. They heaved Whumpee into the bath and turned on the tap, letting it flood Whumpee's skin with cool, flowing water.

Whumpee moaned in relief, letting their head fall back against the rim of the tub. Their skin was still quite pale and sickly looking as Caretaker watched them with worry. “Whumpee, what happened?”

Whumpee was silent for a moment, before mumbling some slurred nonsense and a microwave and a sink. They sat together in silence for minutes, letting the water run over Whumpee’s burns until they moaned quietly, their eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted in pain. Caretaker watched in concern as Whumpee’s moans grew quieter, their shivering growing worse.

Resting their hand on Whumpee’s forehead, Caretaker felt their skin. It was ice cold. Caretaker shot up, running to Whumpee’s room to grabbing them a blanket, returning to Whumpee and wrapping the blanket around their freezing friend.

“C-Care…” Whumpee mumbled, cracking open their eyes, turning their head slowly too look at Caretaker. “Too cold…” They whispered, shuddering as they wrapped their arms around their quacking body. They felt ice cold, unable to warm up, not even after Caretaker wrapped the blanket around them. Their lips were slowly turning blue, their eyes shutting as they slid down the edge of the tub, gasping and coughing as darkness began to creep into their vision. Their breathing grew faster as they tried to fight it off, but they were so, so cold…

Whumpee coughed, sliding down the edge of the bath, their body going limp as they fell unconscious. “Whumpee?” Caretaker asked, hauling Whumpee back up. Their head flopped back heavily, their skin cold and blue as Caretaker sat them up, shaking Whumpee to try and wake them. Whumpee didn’t move.

Caretaker felt sick, was Whumpee hypothermic? Had they done this to them? Whumpee was so cold and pale…

Pulling their phone from their pocket, Caretaker dialed the emergency number and waited for them to pick up. When Caretaker finally got through, they stumbled over their words as they explained to the operator what was happening.

Within minutes, paramedics had pulled up and were unpacking bags, asking Caretaker questions. “How long since they got burned, passed out, in the water, how long, when did, what is…?”

All the questions became a blur as they draped plastic wrap over Whumpee’s burns and lifted them from the bath, wrapping them in a silver sheet. Caretaker ended up in the back of the ambulance with Whumpee, watching their body jostle as the ambulance sped over bumps in the road. Whumpee looked so small and fragile strapped to the stretcher. Caretaker swallowed the urge to throw up as they watched their friend slipping away in front of them… and it was their fault.

The ambulance pulled in the the ED and the paramedics carted Whumpee out straight away, leaving Caretaker to wander in behind them, dazed. They watched as Whumpee was treated, gripping their hands into tight fists, their knuckles beginning to ache until they released them.

A nurse invited Caretaker to sit by Whumpee and wait for them to wake up, which Caretaker did anxiously. Whumpee took ages to wake up, but when they did, the first thing they did was smile at Caretaker. “Whumpee, thank goodness you’re okay, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault...” Caretaker murmured, brushing some hair off of Whumpee’s forehead.

"No... it isn't..." Whumpee whispered, as Caretaker's gentle hands stroked their face.

Whumpee groaned softly, leaning into the pleasant sensation with a contented smile, before their face fell. “I feel… weird…” Caretaker sighed, trying to hold back a laugh. “It’s probably the drugs they put you on. They said you might feel a bit strange.” Whumpee nodded, before reaching for Caretaker’s hand gently stroking their face.

Caretaker’s stomach did a flip.

Whumpee’s fingers brushed Caretaker’s, looking up at their friend's face, noticing how their cheeks were slightly pink. “Thank..you…” They grabbed Caretaker’s hand properly, pressing it into their cheek.

“If you hadn't…”

Caretaker’s eyes brimmed with tears as they leaned down and wrapped Whumpee in a massive hug. “I was so scared, Whumpee…” Caretaker whispered in their ear.

“I know, I was too, but when you were there, I knew I was safe…” Caretaker pulled back slightly, looking redder than a tomato. “What… what do you mean?” They stuttered, making Whumpee smirk as they shut their tired eyes.

“Later…” They mumbled, their hand relaxing as they passed out.

When Whumpee checked out of the hospital, Caretaker was waiting there to pick them up. They hugged each other awkwardly, before getting into Caretaker’s car sitting in silence as Caretaker drove.

The curiosity soon got the better of Caretaker, and they turned to Whumpee. “Hey, so you said something back at the hospital… you never ended up explaining it.”

Whumpee frowned, “Honestly, I hardly remember anything, they had me doped up on so many drugs.” They laughed, running their hand though their hair nervously. “What was it?”

They glanced at Caretaker who glanced back briefly, before turning into the driveway of Whumpee’s house. “Oh, nothing, you just said that you were scared… until I was there…” Caretaker tried to sound casual as the car gently stopped in the driveway, but they began blushing hard, looking at their lap, embarrassed.

Whumpee looked at them, chuckling, before getting out of the car. They waited for a second before bending down and looking in.

“Well, you coming in, or what?”

Caretaker’s eyes sparked with excitement as they got out of the car, helping Whumpee back inside, making sure they were comfortable lying on their sofa. Squeezing in next to Whumpee, Caretaker blushed again, stealing a glance at them as they lay back a little, supporting themself on their elbows. Whumpee noticed, sighing slightly and smirking at them.

“I meant it, you know.” They piped up, looking at Caretaker’s face. They watched their friend frown as Whumpee moved slightly closer, sitting up a little more. “I was scared, until I knew you were there. I couldn’t move, but I knew I was okay, because I could hear your voice and you…” Whumpee’s eyes searched Caretaker’s their faces slowly growing closer.

Before Caretaker realised what was happening, Whumpee’s lips touched theirs. They felt a zing down their spine as Whumpee’s hand made it’s way up Caretaker’s back and neck, settling gently in their hair. Caretaker reciprocated, leaning into Whumpee’s body and melting into their arms. They straddled Whumpee's waist, tilting them back onto the sofa, both of them completely engulfed in each other’s presence until Caretaker’s foot brushed Whumpee’s burned leg.

Whumpee felt a sting flash like lightning through their shin, pulling back and gasping in pain. Caretaker sat up, panicked as they watched Whumpee groan in pain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Whumpee, I didn’t mean to hurt you! I just got a bit carried away and... Oh fuck, are you okay?!” Caretaker stumbled over their words, getting off Whumpee's hips and sliding away, mortified.

Whumpee smiled moving into a sitting position, legs safely out of the way. “No, it's fine... I think we should just stay up right for now…” They murmured, pulling Caretaker on top of them again. Caretaker met Whumpee halfway, giggling through the kisses, fingers becoming wrapped in each other’s hair, the both of them oblivious of the world around them.

All that mattered was that they had each other, and that nothing, not even 2nd degree burns were going to take that away from them.

~masterlist~

#whump #burn whump #sick whumpee #soft caretaker #whumpee x caretaker #whump writing #whumpblr #sickfic #comfort whump #fluff whump #i dont usually write romance so yay diversity #i didnt know what to write for this one but i like how it turned out #sicktember 2023 #snaillamp #original post #i needed something wholesome after greg #get fucked greg

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promptspa · 2 years

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Random prompt #80

Villain swayed on their feet, tears still running down their face and chest heaving. They were struggling to just keep themself standing.

Despite the criminal being out of costume, Hero immediately recognized them, and that something was missing. Quickly, the hero moved Villain into their arms, leading them inside while murmuring hushed, comforting words.

Their wings. Villain's wings were gone. The villain had kept their wings as well-kept as possible at all times. They avoided getting them dirty and wet unless washing them, spent hours (sometimes even with Hero) combing through their feathers when they felt even one was off and tried to keep them from getting hit when in battle.

Something was wrong, and Hero knew it. They lowered themself onto the floor, still cradling their enemy in their arms and carding one of their hands through their hair, running lovingly over their scalp.

Villain murmured something unintelligible, words slurring together and sobs cutting them off. They curled into Hero and hid their face in the crook of their neck, trying to distract themself from the empty feeling on their back.

As Hero's hand brushed along their spine, the villain let out a strangled cry, the movement immediately stopping at the noise. "Villain, what happened?..." The hero asked softly, moving the hand on their back to cup their waist instead. They didn't get any answer besides another babble of incoherent stuttering.

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i-eat-worlds · 3 months

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The Perfect Setup

Created as a part of Whump Community for Palestine. Donate and get your own little whumpy piece of writing.

Thank you to @whumperofworlds for giving!

cw: broken bones, romantic relationship (Caretaker/Whumpee), unrealistic depictions of head injuries, restraints

Caretaker quietly slinked through the darkened hallways of Whumper’s base, the musty smell of cold basement filling their nostrils. It enraged them to think that Whumpee was being kept down here, in the frigid, damp basement, while Whumper cruelly enacted what ever revenge they considered their due.

It was true that Caretaker had made mistakes. They’d hurt people in ways they couldn’t undo, and any attempt they made to atone for that would always fall short. But Whumpee’s only crime had been falling in love with them, and that didn’t warrant getting kidnapped, locked in a basement, and hurt in the cruelest of ways. That wasn’t fair. That wasn't justice.

They quickly found Whumpee, pulling open the door of a tiny storage closet to reveal their lover’s curled up, terrified body. It was too small for them to even stretch their legs out, and with the duct tape plastered over their mouth and the zip ties digging into their hands, the concept of comfort was a remote idea.

“It’s me, whumpee, it’s me, yeah?” Caretaker whispered, hands running over them as they checked for major injuries. “I’ve got cha’ now.”

Whumpee’s eyes went wide when they realized who had come to rescue them, and they started frantically shaking their head, grunting against the tape.

“You’re okay, love, it’s going to be okay.” Their lower leg seemed to be broken, food twisted at an unnatural angle. “I know it’s scary, but I’m going to get you out of here.”

They pulled out their pocket knife and snipped the zip ties away, stomach turning at the red, bloody marks on their wrists. The moment their hands were free, Whumpee reached up and tore the tape from their face. “You have to go.” They said, breathlessly, trying to push Caretaker away.

“I’m not going to leave you, love. Not now, not ever.” They turned their attention to Whumpee’s injured leg. “I’m going to have to splint it, alright? Then I’ll carry you out of here.” Their eyes landed on the broken end of a broom handle. Perfect.

“I’ll be okay,” Whumpee assured them. “Whumper’s not going to hurt me but they’re-”

“They already have!” Caretaker hissed, gesturing to their leg. The gentleness returned to their tone. “Be still for me, love. This is going to hurt.”

Carefully, they held the handle to Whumpee’s leg, then lashed several leftover rags around it. Their pained whimper made Caretaker’s heart shatter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Whumpee’s gaze steeled again. “No, you don’t understand. Whumper doesn’t want me, they want you.”

They looked at Whumpee quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“I’m only the bait, darling. Just a ploy to get you here.” Their voice was lined with daggers. “You need to leave. I’ll get out on my own. Don’t doom yourself for me, please.”

Caretaker shook their head. “I promised I’d never leave you. I intend to keep that promise, love.” They bent down to pick them up, despite their protests.

“No, please, just go.” Tears started to ow from their eyes, and then they widened in horror. “Caretaker go!”

But it was too late.

Just as Caretaker turned, Whumper’s bat made contact with their face, hitting them square in the jaw. A crack echoed down the hallway, and they slumped over sideways, unconscious.

“Hello, Caretaker,” Whumper purred. “I’m so glad you nally decided to show up.”

#worlds babbles #whump #whump community for Palestine #broken bones #head injury tw #caretaker x whumpee #romance cw #restraits #used as bait #whump writing #whump community

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painsandconfusion · 7 months

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Petition for brainrot vamp oc to be your new icon 🤩

asdkfaskdfaksdkl RIKAH

im so glad you like her!!

...honestly that wouldnt be too different from the current one.....hmmmmmm

100 notes on this post and ill do it

#my current one is my first ever oc whumpee #her name is charlotte #i tried to write a vampire romance in high school because i thought that was the highest form of art asdkfak #cut to me only writing the whump scenes and getting SO fucking bored with the romance #poor charlotte never got her book #she just got fuckin DESTROYED by a vampire and i lost interest when the caretaker/love interest hit the scene #...rikay would be much more accurate for my blog #HMMMMM.

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in-love-with-writing-whump · 1 year

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Prompt

Whumpee and Caretaker had been through hell and back together countless times, and somewhere between rough beginnings and the present, they'd fallen in love. Whumpee spent years by their side, a stoic right hand who carried out the will of Caretaker, the virtuous leader of the group, making the tough calls, but not without guilt that they admitted to Whumpee behind closed doors. In turn, Whumpee would open up about their own past and concerns. They were each other’s person, matching halves.

Most didn't know about their relationship, not really anyway. There were rumors of course, but given Caretaker's rank, things were mostly kept quiet. A, Caretaker and Whumpee's friend, knew and often was the one spreading rumors, making jokes about how Caretaker and Whumpee embodied the "tall x smol" dynamic.

One day, Caretaker dies in a battle of some sort, and despite Whumpee's efforts, they can't stop them from bleeding to death. A watches with utter horror, openly bursting into tears as Whumpee closes Caretaker's eyes.

The rest of the group grieves quietly, busy tending to their wounds, not paying much mind as Whumpee and A take Caretaker's body to a nearby building where they can retrieve it later for burial.

For the first time ever, A sees Whumpee fall apart, kneeling before them, crying violently. They find themself at a loss for words, Whumpee's screams of agony the only sound in the building.

The only difference the rest of the group seemed to notice when they returned was that Whumpee's cloak/coat was a bit larger. Only A knew that it was Caretaker's name inscribed on the inside.

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bilightningwriter-writing · 7 days

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Mangst 2024- Day 2

"If you can't trust yourself right now, trust me."

Not much of any warnings for this one. It's a bit angsty, but ended up more hurt/comfort fluff. Didn't mean for it to be this long, but you know, the characters do what they want to do, lol. Characters: Sienna- Red Riding Hood Rae- "Huntsman"

Sienna’s POV

Her skin was burning. Not overwhelmingly or painful yet, but she could feel it boiling under the surface. Tucking her head between her legs, she curled up more into herself on the couch.

Bad omegas didn't deserve a nest. Didn't deserve comfort. Didn't, didn't, didn't-

She stayed where she was when the door opened. Rae must have come home. How stupid did she have to be, staying out of her room like this? She should have been hidden away. Rae shouldn't have to deal with her right now. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch. The hand immediately left, so Sienna finally looked up to see Rae frowning at her.

"Did you hear me at all?"

Flinching again, Sienna should her head, stuttering, "S-sorry. I- I was, I mean..." Fog clouded her mind, the heat slowly becoming more unbearable. What had she been saying?

Cool hands rested on her forehead and the side of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, leaning into the touch.

"I was asking why you weren't in your nest." Rae sounded concerned? Upset? "Your hear is coming on really fast. Why didn't you call me? I'd have come home early."

Sienna just shrugged, the foggy feeling taking over as Rae's scent surrounded her. She smelled like sea salt and sunshine.

"Come on, let's get you to your nest. It'll be more comfortable than the couch, yeah?"

Sienna tensed. "But I've been a bad Omega. The kitchen still needs to be cleaned and-"

"Chores can wait." Rae interrupted firmly. "Your comfort comes first right now."

Reluctantly, Sienna let herself be coaxed from the couch. They made it to the doorway of her room before she froze up. She waited for Rae to say something, but she just rested a hand against Sienna's back, waiting.

She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to think through the fog. "It's not that good. And kind of a mess. Maybe too small?"

Rae's soft chuckle followed by her scent surrounding Sienna in a cloud made her relax, leaning more into her hand and chest.

"If it's comfortable and makes you happy, then it's perfect, hun." Rae rumbled in her ear.

Sienna couldn't tell if the burning feeling was the heat setting in or her face flushing. She opened the door, tentatively pulling Rae to where she’s made her nest in the corner of her room. It was small, but big enough to be cozy for the two of them. She wanted more blankets and pillows, but there was only so much she could do without taking from Rae’s bed too.

“Are you happy with it?”

“… Yeah.”

Rae put her chin on Sienna’s shoulder. “That wasn’t a very convincing yes. What’s missing, hun?”

“I mean,” She cleared her throat. “Would it be okay if, well,” Her face burned more. “Could I take some of your things? Blankets, pillows, and stuff?”

A kiss on the side of her neck did not help the increasing burning feeling in her face. Or the feeling of slick starting to build up between her legs.

“Of course. It’s not like I’ll be in my bed since I’ll be here with you.” She moved to turn Sienna’s face towards her. “Do you want to get them, or stay here while I get things for you?”

Sienna rested her forehead against Rae’s, the fogginess coning back again. It was tiring, swinging from feeling to feeling.

“Can you?” she murmured, eyes closing.

“I can.”

Rae’s hands on either side of her face was the only warning she had before feeling lips on hers. Inhaling sharply, she melted into it, fingers twisting into Rae’s shirt. A purr started deep in her chest. She wanted her closer… closer….

Then Rae was backing away. “I’ll be right back,” she rumbled, her own face flushed as well as she traced her fingers along Sienna’s jaw with her fingertips. “You should get settled… Omega.”

Sienna’s knees weakened again as she let out a small whimper.

Rae giggled at her, kissing her nose before leaving to get the blankets for the nest.

Letting out a shaky sigh, Sienna rubbed at her eyes. It’d been so long since she’d had a proper heat like this. Was she supposed to be this muddled? Even in pre-heat?

She plopped down in her nest, pushing things around to prepare for the additional materials. Everything had to be perfect for her alpha.

A gentle clucking sound announced Rae’s return with an armful of blankets and pillows.

“You’re stressing again, hun. Is something wrong?” Rae asked as she put everything down at the edge of the nest.

Sienna grabbed the pillows first, setting up more of a frame for the sides. “It’s nothing.” she said, smiling over at Rae while she worked.

All she got was an unconvinced look in return.

“I just-” She pushed back at her hair. When had she started sweating? “My head feels like static and I’m nervous that this isn’t normal and I’m not good enough for you and…” She gasped for air, tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t think and I don’t know how to be a good omega anymore.”

Sienna couldn’t bring herself to look up in the silence after her outburst. Her heat had barely started and she’d already fucked it up.

“Sienna, may I come into your nest?”

Something in Rae’s tone made her shiver. She nodded, sitting back so Rae could sit beside her. Once Rae got settled, Sienna leaned into her immediately, resting her burning forehead against Rae’s shoulder.

“Hun, you don’t need to be perfect to me.” Rae said, rubbing Sienna’s back. “Your heats are going to be weird to get used to for a while, especially now that you’re somewhere where you feel safe. And besides, life is messy. I’d chose being a mess with you over perfection with someone else any day.” She gently lifted Sienna’s chin up to meet her eyes. “If you’re willing for me to be your Alpha, I’d be honored to have you as my Omega. Even if you weren’t my soulmate.”

Nuzzling into Rae’s shoulder, Sienna couldn’t help but smile. “Sap.” Then heat hit her like a wave and she shuttered, clutching the blankets between them. She could feel the slick starting to leak through her shorts. As much as she tried, she couldn’t hold back a whine.

“You okay?”

She nodded, taking slow breaths. “I think pre-heat is just about done.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Groaning, Sienna sat back. “Well, clothing hinders things. I mean-” she blushed for what felt like that for the thousandth time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it so bluntly.”

Rae just shook her head, smiling again as she took her shirt off. “It’s okay, you’re on a one track mind at the moment. Kind of nice to see you letting your guard down like this.”

It was very hard not to stare at Rae… Her arms. Her tan skin. Her chest. So soft, smooth….

“Sienna,” Rae took hold of her chin again, amusment twinkling in her eyes. “Heat really muddles your brain, huh?”

Even though she knew Rae was only kidding, that made a chill run down Sienna’s spine.

“I, um,” She drew back, even though every instinct at her screamed to go the other way, into Rae’s arms. “Maybe this is too soon. I might take things too far. Or convince you to do something we don’t want, or-”

Rae cut her off again, cupping her face in her hands. “Sienna, you trust me, right?”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Then if you can’t trust yourself right now, trust me. Trust me to keep things like we agreed before. You’ve been taking your meds, right?”

Sienna nodded again.

“And I have protection with me too. There’s very little chance we’ll have kids since I’m only knotting you once for the bonding mark. Then we have all the other toys and things to lessen the chance of me knotting you again. Okay?”

Little by little, Sienna relaxed again, leaning into Rae’s hands heavily. “Your hands feel nice.” she mumbled.

Rae pulled her into another kiss and Sienna responded eagerly, her own shirt joining Rae’s on the edge of the nest. Skin, hands, heat, scents mingling, gasping, moaning. Rae took control as Sienna felt herself devolve into her heat.

Her alpha would take care of her.

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whump-thoughts · 16 days

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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

#robot whump #whump #human caretaker #whump prompt #no shipping on my posts thumbs up. i dont like or write romance between whumpee and whumper or caretaker.

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 6 months

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Bloody Love Letter

The overdue fluff (I tried, okay?) snippet for @thelazywitchphotographer

TW: Blood, murder mention, knife mention

To most people, the sound of footsteps padding across asphalt in the middle of the night would have been worrying, but Villain didn't exactly fit into the category of 'most' people. Besides, these particularly heavy footsteps were dragging across the street slowly, probably belonging to a drunkard, all the more reason for her not to give a damn.

Still, she decided to humour her unfortunate stalker, turning around to face them, the expression on her face something between irritable and smug, one dark eyebrow arched and a very slight upturn of her lips.

The familiar mask that she was so used to wearing seemed to practically melt into nothing as she realised who the footsteps actually belonged to: Civilian. The man was dressed in his usual business casual, a pair of jeans and a white shirt, except this time, it was more of a shredded rag of blood-stained fabric than a shirt.

Scratches and bruises littered his face, dark crimson encrusted on the corner of his lips, and he was also sporting a black eye. Except the civilian was unfazed in the slightest, as though this was some sort of everyday occurrence. "I'm sure you've seen a lot worse," he remarked casually in response to the look of utter shock the villain had failed to hide, her eyes going wide.

"What happened?" she questioned, as the muscles of her face worked to pull it into a neutral expression.

The civilian snorted incredulously. "I skipped my skincare routine, so I don't look as pretty as usual," he retorted, his lips stretched into something between a smirk and a dark scowl.

This was the kind of insolence that the villain would kill people for, but Civilian had been sharp enough to notice he was an exception, an idea that was frankly poisonous to the villain. She wished to remind him exactly just how dangerous the game he was playing was, but in his current state, it really didn't seem like the time.

So, she simply ran a hand down her face exasperatedly, "Who did this to you?" she demanded, a slight edge of well-concealed anger to her tone that she knew the man would catch.

"What I did to him. You should've seen the other guy." He grit his bloodstained teeth in a feral grin, an expression the villain had never known he was capable of, thanks to his usually mild-mannered nature.

The villain sucked in a sharp breath, folding her arms across her chest. Whatever had warranted this kind of reaction from the civilian was definitely terrible.

Or maybe, if his words and cocky attitude weren't misplaced, this was an indication that the man was a lot more dangerous than he'd seemed, and she just wasn't entirely pleased with that conclusion.

"Alright, hotshot. What did you do?" she challenged, her own piercing blue eyes trained on the civilian's sage green ones, trying to stare through him as though he was no more than a sheet of paper, as though something in his resolve would crumble.

It was the civilian's turn to take in a heavy, measured breath, his gaze refusing to meet the villain's. He seemed almost lost, for lack of a better word, worrying his lip between his teeth, his smug attitude crumbling incredibly fast. "I- killed him," he admitted, trying hard to hide the solemness in his tone with a matter-of-fact intonation, a poor cover-up he failed to paint over the nervousness.

The civilian was never the type to take risks. Before he'd met the villain, he was as cautious as could be, a normal man with a normal job who lived in a very normal neighbourhood. Or that was what the criminal had took him for at first, until she'd found out that this was merely the tip of the iceberg. The civilian had gotten tired of trying to glaze over every side of him with well-fabricated normalcy.

But to confess to murder? That was lightyears away from "trying to change things", from driving a little faster than he was used to or any of the new things he'd done after he'd known her. If there was any shred of his old self, of any basic common sense, he should've already noticed by now that there was a great chance he'd ruined his life, shredded it to pieces.

"Why?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper, instinctually feeling like she would despise his answer.

This time, there was no hesitation in the civilian's tone. "He said he'd go after you. Said he'd hurt you, and I wasn't giving him that chance. Consider it my bloody love letter," he half-snarled, his fists clenched and the muscles of his face taut with conviction.

The villain tried for a few false starts, only for nothing to come out, her lips left parted in surprise.

At that, the civilian's expression softened into something she'd never seen before, into something she realised she wished to see more often, something that lit up his features beautifully.

The civilian was a good-looking man, in a strangely dishevelled sort of way. Dark, wind-ruffled hair with very slight flecks of grey and unwaveringly bright tourmaline eyes that never seemed to dim no matter how exhausted he was. Surprisingly, the crimson streaked across his face seemed to highlight the high-set cheekbones; somehow rendering his current frazzled state even more beautiful than what he usually looked like.

And the realisation that she found the civilian attractive seemed to hit her like a freight train, as did any wave of strong emotion she wasn’t accustomed to. Still, the lingering tension in the air as he crossed the distance between them was very palpable.

“I love you.” The soft smile he gave her at her expression of surprise was equal parts cruel as it was kind. The villain had never been the oblivious one, the shocked audience of a plot twist. So openly vulnerable with someone who downplayed his own cleverness more often than not as a protective tactic.

But she wasn’t exactly sure she hated it. Quite the contrary. She’d evaluated their relationship as that of two unlikely friends aware of each other’s attractiveness and no more, something surface-level and entertaining, but she’d come to realise in that moment, that she’d been wrong.

“I love you too,” she offered as the civilian’s surprisingly warm fingers skirted across her hand, and Villain tentatively got closer, her lips pressed to his jawline, almost fitting there perfectly. She didn’t mind the blood on her mouth, she probably didn’t even notice as the civilian pulled away for a moment, her breath catching in her throat until he got closer again, a soft, almost high-pitched laugh of euphoria escaping his lips as they made contact with the crown of her hair, velvet-soft and blissfully cool against her skin.

“Do you trust me enough to let me take you home so I can fix you up?” she asked.

He pulled away again, a wild, wolfish look in his eyes. “You know, I didn’t even need a knife to kill him,” he answered cryptically, except between the two of them, this was a clear enough response.

✨Timeskip✨

"Just one more left," she said placatingly.

"Well it burns," he hissed, pulling himself away from the cloth soaked in antiseptic near his face, and yet he made absolutely no effort to stop her from pushing him down on her lap again, unless you considered a petulant mock-pout an effort.

"I'm sure you've seen a lot worse," the criminal replied swiftly, quoting him from earlier with her lip curling upwards subtly as she wiped away the last of the blood and dirt on him. The civilian looked significantly younger with all the gunk off, the white hairs seeming to have shown up prematurely, with him being so stressed half the time.

Except right now, he sported a lazy half-smile, looking at her admiringly through half-lidded eyes, lashes so enviously long they fell against his cheek when he blinked. He lifted himself upright, easily pulling her into his lap and tracing the shape of her cheekbone with his finger and then slowly kissing it. "It's never been fair, how gorgeous you've always looked, but now that you're mine, maybe it is, only slightly more just," he crooned, kissing the other cheek with a haunting gentleness that made it seem impossible that he could've killed someone, but with enough passion to prove the previous assumption incorrect.

The villain hummed thoughtfully, pulling him even closer somehow and running her fingers through his hair, smooth like strands of silk now that he'd showered. She felt him shiver, knowing full-well he was touch-starved, "It's alright. You'll get used to it."

"I will," he replied with a smirk, except he leaned further into the touch as she ran her hands through his hair and down to his shoulders, still unaccustomed but the small smile on his lips as he closed his eyes indicated his approval of the touch.

Love is not as concrete as we like to believe. It is certainly senseless to try and learn the exact mechanisms of it because only a fool would wish to learn of something that does not exist and never could. And sure, it is a terrifying product of fate, an outcome of a game where you can only control half of the moves, but still, love is such an awfully human quality; just as wild, just as unpredictable and just as beautiful. It holds the power to draw blood, to start fires but also to bring the taste of euphoria to your lips better than any drink or drug could ever hope to.

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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