I love the idea of a willing Whumpee, especially with a Carewhumper; it fits beautifully into so many situations.
Vampire Carewhumper/Caretaker who needs blood x human at a blood bank willingly, whether for the money or just the high of a vampire bite
Scientist Carewhumper with a Whumpee who signed up for experimentation, maybe for money?
Alien Caretaker with a human Whumpee, maybe they treat them a bit like a pet. Perhaps they took Whumpee for research and Whumpee just decided to make the best of it, if they behave they have a pretty good life. Or maybe they were saved by aliens from a failing earth or a huge war/apocalypse and Whumpee is sad, maybe traumatized, but grateful.
Have some Oscar flashbacks via nightmares! This is set around New Expectations, and before Signs of Life. Warning for heavy Religious imagery and trauma, cults, etc. The ending is sweet though, can't leave my lil Oscar all miserable like that. In case it isn't clear, each paragraph in the nightmare sequence is a different scene.
Oscar slept straight and stiff as a board, corpselike on the table they had called home for the last week and a half.
The most painless week and a half they could remember. It would have been downright peaceful, if not for Father Bradshaw's voice sneering in their head, the feeling of his boot forever imprinted into their memory.
"Run all you want, you will never hide from Lord Silfur's Holy Light."
Their face twitched, the only sign that things weren't okay. Of course, no one saw.
The faces of their ma and pa, disappearing like dust. "Everyone who ever cared for you had already been turned. Don't you get it?" Why couldn't they remember?
"The rod of discipline is painful, but we will wield it with love to reform this monster." The church cheered as Bradshaw held a rod above his head, then swung it down towards Oscar, already crumbled at his feet.
Bradshaw's face, inches from their own. That inhuman snarl. "If you fraternize with vampires, you will be turned. This is your only warning."
Their fists clenched in their sleep and they whimpered, but Katy was upstairs. Scenes flickered through their dreams, faster and faster.
They were back in the basement, cuffed and surrounded by starving vampires. They didn't even try to defend themself. They couldn't. This was Bradshaw's will.
Muzzled and in the dark, alone and starving, only the sounds of the sermons above to mark the painful silence. Twice a day. Two sermons a day. Fourteen a week. How many weeks?
A sermon as the preacher nailed them to the Post. "Surrender to the Holy Light and let Lord Silfur burn away your sins! Rise from the ashes and be made new!"
Bradshaw's boot dug in between their shoulder blades. "Anyone who once loved this monster, step forward! Denounce it and be cleansed!" The boot dug in, harder. "Isn't there anyone who has ever loved this wretched creature? Anyone at all? See that, monster? You have no one."
The scenes began to overlap and meld into each other, Father Bradshaw's face omnipresent and looming, burning.
A row of vampires, all bound and kneeling. "Who wants to play pin the crime on the monster?" Children cheered at Father Bradshaw's voice, it was a party. "Whichever monster wins gets the privilege of basking in the Holy Light all week, so be sure and pick your favorite!"
Bradshaw paced at the podium, face red with rage. "When they surrender to the holy light, they will be cured! They just don't want to be cured! It is everyone's duty to stamp out the spirit of rebellion any time you see it. It is only causing them more suffering."
That sneering voice. "Don't forget, suffering now will bring peace later."
"It may be a monster now, but Lord Silfur will refine it. He will melt it down in His Holy Light and remake it in His image!"
"If the Holy Light is a privilege, why does it hurt them?" Oscar glanced up for a split second to find the voice. A little girl. Her mom patted her on the shoulder. "It doesn't hurt them, it hurts the demons. The demons have to be burned away to bring the person back." The little girl nodded, then turned to yell up at them. "Don't worry! The pain means it's working!"
"Has no one ever loved this wretched creature? No one at all?"
"I've already turned everyone who ever cared about you, and now it's your turn."
A weight on their chest. It was always Bradshaw's boot. Crushing them, always crushing them, always crushing them under the demons he had cursed him with.
The vibrations were new. Something was touching their face. No one ever touched their face. The muzzle didn't allow it, no one would touch their face with anything that didn't burn.
Their eyes snapped open to find some… creature… staring back at them.
"What, who are you?" Their voice was barely a whisper, halfway a sob.
"They call this… they call me Nine," they answered softly, eyes nearly glowing in the dim room. "Katy sent me to check on you, and you seemed to be in distress."
Oscar blinked at the creature, who twitched their antennae in response.
"You had high levels of electical activity in your amygdala and were making prey-sounds. I assumed you were having a nightmare. You did not respond to verbal attempts at reorientation, so I initiated a more physical approach."
A pause, so Nine continued. "You have now been successfully reoriented. I can leave, if you would like."
They barely shook their head, but it was more than enough for Nine to notice.
"Do you want me to get Katy?"
"N-no… don't disturb her."
"Do you want me to get off?"
They shook their head again, just barely. So Nine rested their head on Oscar's chest and arranged the rest of their body so that they weren't quite pinning them down, ensuring that their hands and legs were free, but were providing core pressure.
"Felix calls this "Deep Pressure Therapy". He seems to find it helpful during times of distress."
"Who… who is Felix?"
"Felix is our chef. He is a satyr, and allows me to live in the kitchen. He gave me a basket to sleep in, and feeds me snacks while he cooks."
"So you're… his pet?"
"I do not understand your question. He does 'pet' me, but I have been repeatedly told I do not belong to anyone anymore."
"Anymore? What does that mean?"
Nine's whiskers twitched. "My previous owners threw me away. I landed here, as space trash, which was not supposed to happen."
"Is that where you got…" Oscar tapped their own shoulder, and Nine nodded.
"They carved this into my shell when I failed, so everyone would always know."
Oscar frowned. "That must've hurt. I'm sorry."
"I was not aware of pain at the time. I believed it was the feeling of disobedience." Nine placed a careful paw over Oscar's still heart. "Disobedience does not have a physical feeling. Pain is pain. It is cruel to inflict upon another person."
Tears welled in Oscar's eyes, and they tried to blink them away. "Healing can hurt, though. And that's still pain being inflicted, but it isn't cruel. Setting a broken leg, cleaning a wound, those things hurt. They were... just trying to heal me."
Nine's eyes narrowed, trying to discover what Oscar was getting at. "I was supposed to self-destruct. Spruce and Felix did not allow me to. At the time, I thought that cruel. Would you consider it cruel?"
Oscar shook their head hesitantly. "No, it was the people who said you had to self-destruct that were cruel."
Nine held up a paw, burn scar evident from when they had jumped into the fire on that first night. "What of your previous owners? Making someone burn is, by your own admission, cruel."
Oscar looked away from Nine's searching eyes. "I … don't wanna talk about it anymore. If that's okay."
"Very well," Nine purred, and laid their head down on Oscar's chest.
"Rest. I'll stay here to keep your monsters away."
Talic was moving just as they heard the explosion through their communications hub. He grabbed his first aid kit, a rifle, and ran just in time for Zanvir to activate a portal for him. He met the other side with a bombardment of smoke and ash, spots of fire appearing in his vision from close and far. He coughed and looked around for the rest of the team.
He couldn’t see anyone.
Not time to worry yet. He just got here and the smoke made it difficult to see. He kept his rifle charged as he moved forward, prepared for any Diçian soldiers that might still be lurking. If any were caught in the blast, they might be just as badly injured, but one could never be too sure.
“Hey, medpack!” Talic heard a voice shout not far from his position. He turned and saw movement, a figure he soon realized was Byruk running off to the left. He quickly followed and came into view of Byruk and Lulan kneeling down next to someone. As Talic approached, he saw Lexus’ shocked expression, screaming from the metal shard puncturing through her leg. Byruk was already cutting off the excess.
No…
“Here!” He knelt down next to Byruk, glancing at bruises and cuts on them both. Superficial, and he’d check both of them later in case they were concussed. Lexus would be fine just as soon as he got this thing out and stopped the bleeding. With Lulan and Byruk’s help and a medpack cover, it would all take about fifteen seconds. He looked back at her and tried to smile.
She would be fine, he tried to promise.
She would be fine.
“Alright, we’ve got to be quick…” He directed Lulan and Byruk to hold her up on either side. It’d hurt like hell for her, but they didn’t have any other choice. “Steady her, then lift on three. Ready? One, two, three!”
Lexus was screaming before he ever reached three. The sound of metal pulling through her flesh was made audible only by watching it as blood quickly leaked out as soon as it was removed. Talic quickly wrapped the medpack around the gaping wound and activated it, allowing it to inflate around the tissue and stop the bleeding. Lexus appeared to calm down some as it set, but Talic could still see the signs of shock in her eyes.
“Get her back, now!” He instructed Lulan and grabbed Byruk’s arm. “Byruk, help me find the others.”
He and Byruk rushed to their feet as Lulan carried Lexus out. They turned back to the wreckage, Talic’s eyes now better adjusted to the smoke and light to see the damage inflicted on the area. It was sheer luck the structure was still intact. But it might not be for long.
“There!” Talic spotted a hand in the wreckage and sprinted forward. Blood and dust covered it, but he could see movement in their fingers as they got close. He couldn’t tell who it was yet, but he noticed a pool of blood gathering on the ground from underneath the wreckage.
“C’mon, let’s lift this.” He and Byruk grabbed one side of the debris and started lifting. Talic was already running through the upcoming scenarios in his head.
I’ll have to get Zanvir to help me with triage. Lexus’ wound will hold for a while, I’ll get to her once we figure out who’s worse off. We’ll need blood donors, me, Zanvir, Ganex, Byruk and Lulan don’t look too bad so I can use them too. We have enough painkillers and anesthesia, are there enough stations for everyone injured? Hopefully we won’t have to activate the molecular regeneration pod. Takes up too much power.
That smell. The cold. An empty, cavernous, unearthly sensation that felt familiar. Jim’s other senses woke before his sight did, forcing him into wakefulness. His eyes flickered open and shut, and he instantly remembered. Poisonous spores. Suffocating. The alien—
His eyes opened wide.
The alien was standing directly over him, its face hovering above his own.
It was Scroop.
Jim jolted upright, feeling for his pistol before his mind could catch up, his heart almost pounding right through his ribs. Scroop. Alive. But how—
“No, human must lie still. Not out of danger yet.”
It wasn’t Scroop. It wasn’t the traitor’s voice.
Jim gasped for breath, his lungs suddenly painful, his chest tight. The spores. They were still affecting him. He couldn’t breathe.
“Must lie still,” the alien repeated, ducking out of Jim’s blurry vision. It returned, cradling a device that glowed faintly in its skeletal hands. “Help breathe.” Something that looked like a mouthpiece lowered over Jim’s face.
No. No way. He jerked backward, gasping for breath but ready to fight.
“Get away from me! Don’t you dare—don’t—touch me—” His protests fizzled out. A wave of weakness dragged him under, nearly sending him back into unconsciousness. He felt the alien grab him and tried to wrench himself out of its grip. “You can’t…I won’t let you—”
“Human…stop…” Frustration leaked through the alien’s voice. It tightened its hold. Jim lashed out with a balled fist and struck strange cold flesh. A thud, a low snarl, a faint jangling of metal. The boy sank back, fighting to get enough air in his lungs.
“Don’t…touch me,” he hissed.
The alien got to its feet, discoloration spreading across one cheek. “But human will die!”
“I won’t die,” Jim gasped, doubting the words even as they left his mouth. “I won’t—”
His gaze strayed to the other side of the cave. Morph. Morph was there, a tight pink ball curled at the bottom of a tiny cage, motionless.
Jim’s anger flared again, tingling down his arms and up into his head. “What did you do to Morph?” he yelled.
The alien approached the end of the makeshift cot, a frown deepening the creases corrugating its face. “Did nothing. Creature sick. Just like human. Keeping safe for now.” The device was back in its fingers. Jim tensed up again, ready to resist, but the movement set his chest and lunch burning. He didn’t have the strength to get away this time, not even to rescue Morph. He didn’t have any strength at all.
The alien fastened the device over Jim’s nose and mouth, and immediately the boy could breathe more easily. He sat up, still weak but alert, assessing his surroundings. His pistol was lying in the corner on a pile of rocks.
“Must wear device to breathe,” the alien said. “Tunnels and spores too dangerous for humans. And—” It paused, not looking at Jim. “Hunters. Hunters will search for human.”
A new kind of fear prickled in Jim’s stomach. “Hunters?” he repeated. “Hunting me?”
“You,” the alien replied, striding to the cave entrance. “For skin and organs. Evil.” It shuddered, and when it turned back to Jim, its eyes had changed. Wider now and full of apprehension, they seemed to mirror the way Jim felt. “Hunters on the way. Need to go, now.”
They were coming.
Jim swung his legs over the side of the cot, fear pulsing through his veins. In a flash, he had his pistol back in its holster and Morph’s cage in his hand. What kind of material could hold Morph in its original form? But there wasn’t time to wonder about that now. They had to get out of here. And the only way to do that was to obey.
Jim sighed heavily as he fastened up his jacket. He’d never been very good at obeying anyone.
I made this story, it's yet another "alien caretaker(s) and human whumpee" one, but i finished it this time
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Desmond laid incapacitated, Fever being slowly drawn from his feeble body. He was not in good shape when he was found; His wounds were infected, bruises painted upon his skin, his long hair tangled, he was gaunt and rather pale, with markings that look like prongs from an electric prod. He was suffering through delirium as he was being tended to….. With bandages changed, herbs placed on the wounds, water poured into his parched throat, and his forehead mopped by a damp and cold cloth.
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It would be days til’ he fully awoke. His eyelids felt heavy, not wanting to open. Soon he gained enough strength to open them, his vision fogged up and doubled, and it seemed like shadows looming over him. “Theeere we go, nice to see you lucid…” a femenine voice said. Desmond immediately felt adrenaline kick in out of fright, jolting up and backing away from these beings…. Whatever they are…. “Calm down, young man… we aren’t here to hurt you.” another being said. Desmond soon felt pain burning through the wounds, he stifled a groan, and laid back down, though propping himself up to get a better view of where he was. “W-where am I?” Desmond rasped, gripping the soft blanket with one hand. “You’re back at my home.” one being said, sitting next to Desmond. “What planet is this?” Desmond said, now seemingly more calm. “You’re on the planet of Nerilia, it’s like what earth is, except every diverse extra terrestrial lives here, like an odd intergalactic melting pot.” the fem alien said. Desmond slowly sat up again, looking around a bit more at the home where he was. “You’ve been out for a week.” the scaly alien said. “Who are you guys?” Desmond asked. “I’m Nyado Lysilis, that chick over there is Nileth Iandi, and that other guy is Isan Kafrii”. Nyado explained. “Well then, I’m Desmond, Desmond Asen.” Desmond said.
Alien Whumper and Alien Caretaker both being a part of the team that tests and monitors the health of captured human Whumpee. Whumper takes a very hands-on approach to teaching themself human anatomy through experiments on Whumpee, while Caretaker is trying to learn how to communicate with Whumpee and tell them that Caretaker is trying to help them.
