#Lucas Slater OC

[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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[brideprincess5a1]

Tell me which ship that includes my Rebecca Simpson OC, you want to see my best art of.

1. Sideshow Bob X Rebecca

2. Krusty X Rebecca

3. Milhouse X Rebecca

4. Moe X Rebecca

5. Mr. Burns X Rebecca

6. Principal Skinner X Rebecca

7. Sean Bont X Rebecca

8. Apu X Rebecca

9. Barney X Rebecca

10. Blake Black X Rebecca

11. Bode Wright X Rebecca

12. Chief Wiggum X Rebecca

13. Colin X Rebecca

14. Jack DeForest X Rebecca

15. Frank Grimes X Rebecca

16. Superintendent Chalmers X Rebecca

17. Ol' Gil X Rebecca

18. Hank Scorpio X Rebecca

19. Hubert Wong X Rebecca

20. Ralph X Rebecca

21. Jacques Brunswick X Rebecca

22. Jimbo X Rebecca

23. Professor Frink X Rebecca

24. Julio Franco X Rebecca

25. Karl (Simpson and Delilah) X Rebecca

26. Lenny X Rebecca

27. Luke Stetson X Rebecca

28. Sideshow Mel X Rebecca

29. Ned Flanders X Rebecca

30. Nelson X Rebecca

31. Brenden Biederbecke X Rebecca

32. Nick (the Daughter Also Rises) X Rebecca

33. Stonecutter Number One X Rebecca

34. Otto X Rebecca

35. Grady X Rebecca

36. Lucas Porter X Rebecca

37. Snake Jailbird X Rebecca

38. Thelonious (Trilogy of Error) X Rebecca

39. Troy McClure X Rebecca

40. Freddie Scorpio X Rebecca

41. Lionel Hutz X Rebecca

42. Hugh Parkfield X Rebecca

43. Dr. Nick X Rebecca

44. Cecil Terwilliger X Rebecca

45. Fat Tony X Rebecca

46. Edmund (Tweenlight) X Rebecca

47. Reverend Lovejoy X Rebecca

48. Todd Flanders X Rebecca

49. Walt Warren (the Bob Next Door) X Rebecca

50. Willie X Rebecca

51. Bart X Rebecca

52. Herbert Powell X Rebecca

53. Homer X Rebecca

54. Jack Lassen X Rebecca

55. Artie Ziff X Rebecca

56. Jack Crowley X Rebecca

57. Dwight Diddlehopper X Rebecca

58. Mr. Bergstrom X Rebecca

59. Freddy Quimby X Rebecca

60. Comic Book Guy X Rebecca

61. Bleeding Gums Murphy X Rebecca

62. Cletus Spuckler X Rebecca

63. Disco Stu X Rebecca

64. Larry Burns X Rebecca

65. Officer Eddie X Rebecca

66. Hans Moleman X Rebecca

67. Mayor Quimby X Rebecca

68. Michael D'Amico X Rebecca

69. Bartigula the Jerk (I, Carambus) X Rebecca

70. Dr. Marvin Monroe X Rebecca

71. Wayne Slater (The Falcon and the D'ohman) X Rebecca

72. Billie Joe Armstrong (Green Day) (The Simpsons Movie) X Rebecca

73. Kent Brockman X Rebecca

74. Carl Carlson X Rebecca

75. Langdon Alger (Simpsons Comics) X Rebecca

76. Charlie (Oh Brother, Where Bart Thou?) X Rebecca

77. Portuguese Boy (A Totally Fun Thing Bart Will Never Do Again) X Rebecca

78. Peta (Dry Hard) X Rebecca

79. Pita (Dry Hard) X Rebecca

80. Martin Prince X Rebecca

81. Kirk Van Houten X Rebecca

82. Blake (Three Dreams Denied) X Rebecca

83. Corey Masterson X Rebecca

84. Dolph X Rebecca

85. Donny (The deBarted) X Rebecca

86. Digby Diggs (Diggs) X Rebecca

87. Kevin (Stealing First Base) X Rebecca

88. Zachary Vaughn (Bart Gets a Z) X Rebecca

89. The Rich Texan/Richard Texan X Rebecca

90. Rainier Wolfcastle X Rebecca

91. Marv Szyslak X Rebecca

92. Michael De Graaf X Rebecca

93. August Steffan X Rebecca

94. Homer Simpson (Not It) X Rebecca

95. Erik X Rebecca

96. Moe Szyslak (Not It) X Rebecca

97. David (Treehouse of Horror XVI: Bartificial Intelligence) X Rebecca

98. Roger (Treehouse of Horror XXI: Master and Cadaver) X Rebecca

99. Hugo (Treehouse of Horror VII: The Thing and I) X Rebecca

100. Vampire Burns (Treehouse of Horror IV: Bart Simpson's Dracula) X Rebecca

101. John (Homer's Phobia) X Rebecca

102. Mike Wegman (Go Big or Go Homer) X Rebecca

103. Lyle Lanley (Marge vs. the Monorail) X Rebecca

104. Roger (Every Man's Dream) X Rebecca

105. Devil Flanders (Treehouse of Horror IV: The Devil and Homer Simpson) X Rebecca

106. Harry Potter (Treehouse of Horror XII: Wiz Kids) X Rebecca

107. The Fat in the Hat (Treehouse of Horror XXIV: The Fat in the Hat) X Rebecca

108. Reaper Homer (Treehouse of Horror XIV: Reaper Madness) X Rebecca

109. John Frink Sr. Robot (Treehouse of Horror XIV: Frinkenstein) X Rebecca

110. Mutant Burns (Treehouse of Horror VIII: Homega Man) X Rebecca

111. Hansel Bart (Treehouse of Horror XI: Scary Tales Can Come True) X Rebecca

112. Noir Homer (Treehouse of Horror XXXI: Into the Homerverse) X Rebecca

113. Dracula (Treehouse of Horror XX opening & Treehouse of Horror XXI: Tweenlight) X Rebecca

114. Stephen King (Treehouse of Horror XXIV opening) X Rebecca

115. Vampire Bart (Treehouse of Horror IV: Bart Simpson's Dracula) X Rebecca

116. Dr. Bartley (Treehouse of Horror XV: Four Beheadings and a Funeral) X Rebecca

[angelofbloodlust]

ALRIGHT @unordinary-simp WANTED ME TO TELL Y’ALL WHAT I HAVE ON MY NEWEST ST OC SO FAR SO HERE IT IS

(!!TW for child neglect and weed mention)

First off, his name is Slater Davis and by the time of season 4 he is 16 years old.

He dresses in a more punk-esque style, sporting a fluffy Mohawk/mullet hairstyle and leather jackets coating graphic tees of his favorite bands.

His face claim is Daniel Millar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

General Description:

Slater’s grown up a complete delinquent, raised in a completely dysfunctional household with a mother that had fled when he was young and a deadbeat, typically unseen father. Due to this he’s essentially raised himself, constantly alone and roaming the streets of Hawkins looking for whatever trouble he can get himself into next. He’s usually incredibly stand-offish and aggressive, never taking any friends growing up and avoiding too much interaction with others at all costs.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

How he’s introduced:

Slater first meets them during the timing of season 3. Due to his family’s struggle with income, Slater is a known thief and is banned from most stores in Hawkins due to it. The particular incident in which he attempts to break into Steve’s car leads to his first introduction with Dustin and Steve, who happen to catch him in the middle of his crime (which understandably, makes Steve absolutely outraged 😭). Dustin is hesitant as Steve scolds Slater, knowing Slater’s less than pleasant reputation around Hawkins and Slater panics as he tries to explain why he did what he did. Pitying the kid, Steve reluctantly lets him go and they promise not to tell anyone about him.

From that point, Slater’s seen more and more around at school by Dustin, and makes him anxious with the belief that Slater has it out for him after being caught red-handed. Though never it had never passed the occasional silent glare, each day Dustin grew more in fear of his life and eventually caved, privately telling Mike the situation in concern of what he should do. Conflicted, the two try to work on a plan to confront Slater and clear the air between him and Dustin.

Confronting Slater hardly goes well for them. Instead Slater is pissed that Dustin broke their promise and told Mike, refusing to accept their apologies despite Mike also assuring him that they wouldn’t tell anyone else. Slater storms off after stating he doesn’t want to ever talk to them again, then avoiding Dustin at all costs. Even though it was what Dustin had originally wanted, Slater’s new absence of his presence only left him concerned.

Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas eventually stumble across Slater outside of school around a week later, this time cornered by one of the school’s bullies as a fight starts out between them. After Slater throws the first punch, the group is horrified as the bully manages to overpower him and eventually flees from a bloodied Slater as he sulks in one of the town’s alleyways on his own. Though hesitant, they approach him and attempt to console him and help him clean up his wounds.

As Will wipes off the remainder of the blood on his face, they find out that Slater had gotten physically violent with the bully after he had insulted Slater, calling him a freak and making other distasteful comments about him and his father. Slater visibly regrets his decision to attack him, stating it was the first time he had started an actual fistfight. Shocked to see Slater so vulnerable, they take the opportunity to try and prove to Slater that he can trust them and that they’re there for him.

Guilty of how he treated them prior due to his struggle to trust, Slater accepts their efforts and says he wouldn’t mind being their friend.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His friendships:

Slater quickly becomes friends with the group, forming an especially close platonic bond with Will due to their vast difference in personality. Slater admires how mellow Will is, taking pages from his book in how to approach things from a calmer standpoint and better himself.

He also finds an immense interest in D&D once Will brings it up to him, eager to listen to everything he has to tell him about in hopes that he could eventually join them in a campaign. They spend a lot of their time with Will helping Slater work on his own character to play with, along with Slater teaching Will some of his own hobbies. Though Will is typically nervous about the legality of what most of Slater does, he eventually agrees to rebel with him a little as he finds an intrigue in Slater’s artistic abilities with graffiti.

Slater is absolutely heartbroken by the time Will moves away, promising to write to him often in hopes to keep their friendship alive between the times they’re able to visit one another. He often sends him drawings as well, whether it be doodles of D&D characters or portraits of Will based off of the pictures of them together that Slater keeps posted on his wall. In season 4 he tags along with Mike on his trip to visit El and Will, then getting wrapped up in the scenarios that occur throughout the season.

Slater also becomes close friends with Dustin, the two laughing off their unconventional way of meeting as they soon find they have more in common regarding their humor than they had realized. Slater really enjoys Lucas’s company as well, even if the two don’t have as much interaction. However he’s not so much a fan of Mike, due to Slater’s particular adoration of Will and constantly keeping a close eye on him to make sure he doesn’t upset Will in the slightest. Will often has to promise Slater that there’s no issues between him and Mike after being friends for so many years, trying to soothe Slater’s overprotective tendencies usually to no avail.

Slater is much more hesitant around the older members of the group, usually not interacting with them much unless he has to. He gets very nervous around Steve due to their past interaction, until Steve finds a vulnerable moment to promise Slater he isn’t upset with him anymore and that he promises to protect him as he does with the rest of the kids. Over time, Slater begins to see Steve as an older brother figure and grows more comfortable in his presence.

He doesn’t mind Robin or Cricket after becoming comfortable with Steve, being casually friendly with the two and occasionally teasing Cricket for the obvious pining the two girls have for one another, much to Cricket’s dismay as she realized perhaps she isn’t as subtle as she believed. He assures her he wouldn’t tell anyone else once Cricket eventually comes clean, taking it upon himself to make subtle efforts to play Cupid and try to get them together.

He’s most comfortable with Jonathan, assuming him to be trustworthy after seeing how close Jonathan and Will are and getting along with him well from the get-go. Jonathan’s supportive in Slater and Will’s close friendship, happy that Will has another friend that he has lots in common with hobby-wise. However after Slater stops by to visit in season 4, Jonathan quickly becomes fed up with Slater’s immediate interest in Jonathan and Argyle’s smoking habits and often having to shut him down when he asks to try it for himself.

He adores Joyce. Seeing that she was instantly kind to him from the moment they met when going over to Will’s house for a sleepover, he saw her as the mother figure he had never gotten to experience in his own household. He loves anytime Joyce lets him stay over, happy to be pampered and among people who treat him well.

Slater is quite honestly terrified of Hopper, both due to his own criminal history and the intimidating demeanor Hopper has. He’s gotten into trouble with Hopper on multiple occasions while stealing, typically let off the hook with a mere slap on the wrist as Hopper recognizes that he’s just a struggling kid without much of an other choice than to try and feed himself. Hopper even starts to help him out once Slater becomes friends with the other kids, making sure he gets food and essentials without having to steal it.

El is his introduction into finding out everything about the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer + Vecna. The group of kids promise Slater to exchange a secret of theirs to make up for knowing his secrets, leading to him meeting El and instantly becoming shocked over her abilities. Though, he quickly turns amazed and incredibly interested to learn everything about what she’s able to do. He becomes good friends with her due to this, thinking her strength is admirable and often trying to get her to join him in rebellious activities she could use her abilities for.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His Interests/Hobbies:

Graffiti art is his main interest, constantly searching out new spots to work on elaborate artworks as he finds it a comforting escape from his home life. He enjoys traditional artwork as well even if he doesn’t do it as often, whether it be sketching or painting on canvases

He also longs to be able to learn how to play a guitar, though is unable to as his father refuses to buy him one. Due to this he drowns himself in metal music, enjoying imagining himself to be the one strumming out the guitar solos as he promises himself that one day he’ll finally get to learn to play for real

He loves collecting things he stumbles across while wandering Hawkins, glass bottles and bottle caps in particular. He displays all of his discoveries carefully on a shelf in his bedroom, keeping everything neatly lined up to admire them often

Even with his cold exterior, Slater is incredibly empathetic and loves to go out of his way to try and care for any neglected animals he finds on his walks. Typically sneakily stealing food to offer them, he’s become a recognized source of food and love by the strays. A brown tabby cat is especially adored by him, and Slater will often search out the cat during late nights to play and cuddle with when he feels lonely

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This is all I can think up for him atm, if anyone has any other questions I’m happy to answer! Thank you to anyone who’s read this far :)

#wondering if I should do a longer post with info like this for wolf and cricket too? #not scream stuff #stranger things #stranger things oc #slater davis #billy’s stranger things hyperfixation #ocs #oc

[steve-harringtons-lover]

Masterlist!

Harry Potter (Golden Trio Era):

George Weasley

Fred Weasley

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Luna Lovegood

Neville Longbottom

Cho Chang

Lavender Brown

Ginny Weasley

Tonks

Draco Malfoy

Pansy Parkinson

Cedric Diggory

Fleur Delacor

Seamus Finnigan

Dean Thomas

Older Colin Creevey

Padma Patil

Parvati Patil

Harry Potter (Marauders Era):

Remus Lupin

James Potter

Sirius Black

Peter Pettigrew

Regulus Black

Lily Potter

Scream(1996):

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Poly!Ghostface

Sidney Prescott

Tatum Riley

Randy Meeks

The Outsiders:

Johnny Cade

Ponyboy

Dally

Soda

Darry

Two-Bit

Steve

Diary of a Wimpy Kid:

Rodrick Heffley

Dead Poets Society:

Neil Perry

Charlie Dalton

Todd Anderson

Steven Meeks

Chris

Pittsie

Knox

Cameron

Outer Banks:

JJ Maybank

John B. Rutledge

Kiara Carrera

Pope Hayward

Sarah Cameron

Rafe Cameron

Stranger Things:

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Steve Harrington

Dustin Henderson

Lucas Sinclair

Max Mayfield

Eleven (Jane)

Robin Buckley

Jonathan Byers

Nancy Wheeler

The Mighty Ducks:

Charlie Conway

Adam Banks

Jesse Hall

Greg Goldberg

Connie Moreau

Guy Germaine

Julie Gaffney

Fulton Reed

Dean Portman

Luis Mendoza

Dwayne Robertson

Ken Wu

Russ Tyler

Lester Averman

Community:

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Britta Perry

Annie Edison

Jeff Winger

That '90s Show:

Leia Forman

Jay Nelson

Nate

Gwen Rnuck

Ozzie

Niki

That 70s Show:

Eric Forman

Donna Pinciotti

Jackie Burkhart

Steven Hyde

Fez

Michael Kelso

Dazed and Confused:

Randall 'Pink' Floyd

Don Dawson

Slater

Kevin Pick ford

Michelle

Mitch Kramer

____ _ _ _

I will write Character x OC and Character x Reader

I will NOT write going to 'paris' with the Weasley twins or SMUT

Requests can be made on my page

Please be kind<33

#harry potter #scream #fanfic #the outsiders #golden trio fanfiction #scream 1996 #scream movies #scream fic #harry potter series #masterlist #stranger things x reader #outsiders #outerbanks #obx fic #dead poets society #dead poets fanfic #jeff winger #community nbc #community #abed's uncontrollable christmas #abed nadir #six seasons and a movie #annie edison #britta perry #community tv #troy community #troy barnes #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things #mike wheeler

[sunsetsvibe-archive]

Okay, I have finally updated and edited each of my muse pages ( oc / canon / reserved )  &  here are the changes I’ve made; I’ll put it under the cut, but it’s just so people know 

COMPLETELY REMOVED MUSES: Faith Clarke ( no muse / still a npc ) I was supposed to start something for @apartofthegrey with her, but if I can make it with a different muse please let me know ! Eliza Fredrickson ( no plots / still a npc ) Jamie Watson ( no plots / still a npc ) Kadir Polat ( no plots / still a npc ) Hunter Wilkinson ( no plots / still a npc ) Darius Roberts ( no plots / still a npc )

NEWLY RESERVED MUSES: Charlotte Anderson ( for @greasersbro ) Masood Anderson ( for @beautifulspines ) Marco Bernardo ( for @greasersbro ) Mikey Irvine ( for @allwcundup ) Carlos Morale ( for @beautifulspines ) Malcom Slater ( for @beautifulspines ) Brodie Smith (for @beautifulspines )

NEWLY ADDED MUSES: Craig Daly ( oc ) Harold Perkins ( oc ) Emma McGovern ( oc ) Conrad Van Dijk ( oc ) Draco Malfoy ( canon ) Harry Potter ( canon ) Dominique Weasley ( canon ) Louis Weasley ( canon )

CHANGED FACECLAIMS: Lucas Taylor : Tom Austen to Sam Claflin Kian Buckston : Liam Payne to Jamie Blackley

#( ooc; psa. ) #( ooc; pinned. ) #( ooc; important. )

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #9 - It's Cruel To be Kind

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Apologies for the wait!!! 🥺❤️

CW: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new master/whumper, vampire caretaker, bloodbag whumpee, reference to vampire whumper/previous abuse/captivity, bloodbag whumpee, recovery whump, aftermath of nightmare, emotional breakdown/self doubt (August going through it!!!) [Pls lemme know if I missed any! 🫶]

---

The wind is swept from August’s sails. It feels as though he’s adrift in the open ocean. Lost at sea with no waves or wind to carry him to shore. A storm rages overhead, lightning splitting through the pitch-black sky, dark clouds rolling in. There’s an island on the horizon, a glimmer of hope. It calls August - it beckons him. And he tries with all his might to paddle there, waiting for the gust of gaia’s wind to propel him towards salvation.

It never comes. The ferocious ocean waves sway August further away. Totally stranded and utterly helpless. 

August skulks out of Declan’s bedroom in bruised defeat. The desperate screams for mercy and freedom fade until they’re nothing but a distant echo, swallowed up by the silence of the house. This isn’t working. This isn’t fair. They’re getting nowhere. The road they are paving for the human’s recovery is nothing more than them blindly stumbling in the dark and feeling their way around, and it’s to Declan’s detriment. At his expense. Torturing the already tortured soul. 

It’s cruel, August thinks. He took an oath when he devoted his life to medicine; he swore to alleviate pain and suffering, to do no harm, and uphold ethical practices. This cannot be ethical. Surely. What he’s doing feels downright criminal and inhumane. Is it worth the healing of Declan’s body only to terrorise his mind? Leaving him in perpetual anguish and dazing confusion day in and day out. Keeping him hidden and isolated far away from his loved ones.

August slides his back down the wall, head buried in his hands. He can still hear Declan’s shrill cries ringing in his ears, piercing through his heart. Honestly? He always hears them. Day and night. Since that first day Declan woke up and nearly burst his eardrums with his terrified screams. August’s conscience won’t let him forget them, it’s harrowing.

Because Declan is scared half to death of August. The screams are because of him. 

Home might just be the best medicine for Declan. That is the true cure August is searching for. Declan may not be held here with ropes and chains or kept under the lull of persuasion; but he is wholly and unwillingly dependent on August for his survival. Declan has no choice now but to rely on the vampire for his entire humanity -  he’s too weak to fend for himself, let alone chase his own heart's desire. He is reliant on the vampire for his nourishment, for his health, safety and protection and even his communication. His whole way of life. The only way Declan can exercise his own free will, is if August helps him to.

And well…Declan keeps asking for home. Who is August to deny him that?

“He’s going to try some sleep again,” Lucas whispers across the hallway, careful to slowly and gently pull the bedroom door to. No loud or sudden noises. They’ve learned that the hard way. “I’ve promised him we’ll leave him to it for tonight. He just needs space to breathe.”

And then what? Declan jolts awake an hour later in floods of tears and hiccuping sobs again? Do they ignore it this time? Leave him be and let him cry it out? Or send Lucas back in…he likes Lucas. August knows he shouldn’t be, but he’s so envious of that. He’d never harm a hair on Declan’s head, he’s fought tooth and nail to save him. Why must he be branded the bad guy?

August knows the answer. That doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have never seen fear like that in my life,” Lucas slumps beside August on the floor, a far-away look on his face like he’s just seen a ghost. He stares blankly, dead ahead, at the floral wallpaper across from him, and shakes his head in disbelief, “What the hell do you put a man through to make him scream in his sleep?”

Hell. Exactly that. That’s what you put him through. You turn him into a zombie, living dead. A body forced to live when its mind is melted to a puddle. You send him to tango with death and live to tell the tale. Hurt him until he can’t feel it, and even then still hurt him some more. It’s impossible to comprehend the horrors Declan suffered, or fathom why or how someone could do that to another living, breathing being. But it happened, and August can’t change that no matter how hard he tries. 

“Lucas? Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

It’s a question that’s been rattling inside August’s skull for a while now. Guilt and sympathy fighting each other to the death. He only ever wanted to help Declan back on his feet, bring him completely back to himself and, help deliver him home all in one piece. August could never live with himself if Declan went home to his family,  lifeless and comatose. They may as well have sent him with his casket too. And he can’t send him back as he is now; the tattered man weeping himself into another dread-fueled nightmare.

Or can he? Should he?

“Without a doubt in my mind,” Lucas asserts, certain as can be. He says it with his entire chest, and he seems almost offended by the question. He straightens himself from his slouched slump on the floor, sitting up against the wall and crossing his legs underneath him, “What makes you ask that?”

August opens his mouth, but no words come out. His jaw clicks shut before he can even dare try. If he says it, it makes it all real, doesn’t it? Every worry springs into existence, everything he’s frightened of is brought to life. August will have to face all his mistakes and misdeeds, every foolish mis-step he’s taken in Declan’s care. But he has to own up to it sooner or later. Face the music. So he can do what’s right by Declan.

“I fear…  I fear we’re doing more harm than good to the boy.”

“August-”

“W-What if I’m getting this all wrong?” August falters, his voice thick with shameful, threatening tears. As Lucas shuffles closer to console him, August crumbles even more into the floor and wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “What - What if we’re hurting him, and sure maybe not hurting him like that vile monster who stole him but... in a different way?”

Declan still thinks and feels like a prisoner. He was trapped in Vince’s basement, and then he was trapped in his mind, his body and now trapped all over again. This time as August’s patient, stuck helpless in bed. 

But Lucas shakes his head passionately, giving a reaffirming squeeze to August’s knee. Lucas is too good to August, too kind and forgiving. It’s more than he could ever deserve in this life or the next. But right now his words of encouragement fall on deaf ears, August needs to be told how it is. And it's plain as day that his presence is damaging Declan, not helping him. Declan is still suffering. He’s supposed to be free and thriving, and he’s still hurting.

“Were it not for you, Declan would have taken his last pained breath that first night you brought him home. Even worse, he could have died a broken shell of a man in that basement, alone and suffering. You revived him. You gave him a second life.”

It doesn’t feel like it. What kind of life is jumping at shadows and cowering behind blankets? Terrified of what’s around the corner. A thousand words trapped in his mind that he could never say.

“I bought him. Like livestock…he thinks he’s my property-”

It’s time to call it a day, and let him give up the fight and lay down his sword.

“He’s just scared, August. He’s so scared, and all alone and horribly confused. He’s been through hell and back. It’s not you.”

“It is me, Lucas,” August disagrees,  “It’s what I am.”

A blood-sucking monster that stalks the night looking for its next prey to feed from and drain dry. August has spent his whole life trying to break free from that mould, to run far away from what he’s supposed to be and never look back. Somehow Declan sees right through him, right down to his core. He sees what August refuses and tries to hide from. His own blood, his very nature.

“How could he ever heal at the hands of something he fears the most?” August asks, disgusted with himself. He should rip out his fangs and run outside to bathe in the sun’s agonising rays. It sickens him that he is associated with the brute that did this to Declan. That August’s kind hunt and kill humans for food… for sport. Who could blame Declan for being scared of vampires. August is scared of vampires.

“He deserves better-”

“-Declan deserves you,”  Lucas’ tone was clipped, as if his word was final and there was no possible room for discussion. But August had known him so long, he could hear the affection underneath the terse words. “You are the best thing that could have ever happened to him. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lucas once looked at him the same way Declan looks at him now. With nothing but fear and disdain in his eyes. Backed into the corner like a scared small animal.  August remembers the way he felt when they both locked eyes for the first time, terror meeting terror; it felt like he wasn’t worthy of breathing the same oxygen. That he was a monster, and should whittle the stake himself and hand it to Lucas with an apologetic bow. 

Has August always mistook help for harm?  He must be doomed to repeat the same cycle of pain. Maybe it’s just in his cold-blood. His vile, worthless blood. Vampires hurt humans. That's how the story goes. There’s nothing he can do to escape that fate.

“My friend,” August chokes up, grabbing Lucas’ hands to squeeze in his own, and stroking his thumb over his wrists.  “I wronged you. I hurt you. Just like I’m hurting Declan now.”

A thousand apologies could never make up for what he’s done, the hurt he inflicted. Years down the line the shame and regret still plagues him, festers inside him deep down. Over and over he’s told he’s forgiven, more times than there are drops in the ocean. Again, it doesn’t change the fact it happened.

“You saved me,” Lucas gasps in awe, astounded by August’s confession. Something they’d both long agreed was water under the bridge. “ Just like you’re saving Declan. Would you have given up on me?”

“Never.”

“Then why give up on him? When he needs you more than I ever did?”

A fire lights inside of August, determination burns within him. This isn’t throwing in the towel, this is him fighting. Doing what’s right, even if it feels wrong. If it means letting go-

“I’m not giving up on him. I would never give up on him. I want to do what’s best by him.”

“I trust you, August. And I think if you just hold in there, Declan will learn to trust you too. It just needs time.”

Time does heal all wounds, as they say. And maybe Lucas is right. Maybe if they just play the waiting game, Declan could make it through to the other side, unharmed and unafraid. Yet August knows that these aren’t fresh wounds - not anymore - they’ve turned to ugly, withered scars. A permanent mark on the boy’s mind, body and soul. There’s no curing that. But could Declan learn to live with that?

“Tell yourself what you tell him. He’s not a captive. We’re going to take him home, yes?” Lucas quirks an interrogative brow, and August nods miserably in response. Declan is starting to feel like a captive against all intent and promises. “I think if we drop him off in human territory now - lame and pain-riddled, scared of everything that moves - that is what would be cruel. Us looking after him and building him back up for a little bit longer; that’s the mercy he’s begging for. Even if he doesn’t realise that right now.”

“How do I know which path to take?” August whispers with a wince, like the daunting thought threatens to implode inside his mind.

“Humans know so little of vampire persuasion, how it affects the brain and body. He could be stuck like this forever. His family will get half their son back at best. Who knows if his state will deteriorate? If he’ll ever walk or talk again. We can help him, August. You know that we can help him feel human again.”

“I don’t want to cause him any more unnecessary pain,” August laments, “He’s been through enough.”

August was never under any illusion this would be easy. He was prepared to weather the storm from the second he first laid eyes on Declan. Down in that basement; knelt and bound, small and fragile, unreachable and lifeless - drowning in Vince's power. August can help Declan, he’s got him this far already, he’s nearly out of the woods. They could do it, this could work. But at what cost? 

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you,” Lucas promises, “Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Always…”

August had saved Lucas before, hadn't he? Perhaps there is still hope. Perhaps he can still save Declan.

---

Thank you to @darkthingshappen for beta-ing this chapter!!!!

Next update will drop on Monday! (7/8) 🫶 Time for a lil flashback to how August and Lucas met... 🤫

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername @ramadiiiisme   @darkthingshappen  @whumpsday   @thecyrulik   @t0rture-me   @redwhump   @the-cryptid-finch   @snowstuffscuff   @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump   @wolfeyedwitch   @interdimensional-chaos   @termsnconditions-apply   @whump-blog   @leyswhumpdump  @not-a-space-alien   @onlybadendings   @darlingwhump  @sparrowsage   @flynnswhumpprompts  @whumpcereal  @wolves-and-winters  @ashh-ed  @idkmansomeusername @whuarri  @33-sdtr-45 @pigeonwhumps  @canislycaon24  @the-whumpers-grimm  @damienxozmoze  @predacon-skydrift  @morning-star-whump @neverthelass @espresso-depresso-system @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @mushroomlover554 @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kadeee00 @that-one-small-world @doodlepoodle154 @sodacreampuff @cupcakes-and-pain @topsheepstudent

Let me know if you would like to be added or if I forgot you! 🥰

#Shattered #bloodbag whumpee #vampire caretaker #vampire whumper #recovery fic #rescued whumpee #declan durant oc #august crinamorte oc #lucas slater oc #angst #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity #emotional breakdown #vampire whump #whump fic #whump series #whump writer

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Where does August get his blood? If he drinks from Lucas, then where did he get it before?

He does drink from Lucas in our current timeline! With Lucas' consent, of course! And just a little from his wrist, definitely not his neck.

Before Lucas though, I think August paid a pretty penny for some ethically sourced blood packets ;) I imagine bags of blood probably shipped from overseas where vampire and human relationships are a taddddd less tetchy, and maybe there is some volunteer blood-donors for vamps! 🥰

#thats what I always see in my mind anyway! #if that makes sense? and hopefully that works asdfghjkl #thank you for asking!!!! #💗💗💗💗 #shattered #august crinamorte oc #lucas slater oc #vampire #vampire caretaker #blood mention

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Shattered #8 - Lies, Lies, Lies

Previous / Masterlist / Next

CW: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new whumper/master, Vampire Caretaker, Reference to vampire whumper/previous abuse/captivity, Bloodbag Whumpee, Recovery/Rescue, Nightmare (drug induced), Panic attack, Talks of death/hopes of death, Denial, Paranoia, Drugs/Medication, Noncon drugging(?) Loss of speech, loss of autonomy

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername  @ramadiiiisme  @darkthingshappen  @whumpsday   @thecyrulik   @t0rture-me   @redwhump   @the-crypid-magpie   @snowstuffscuff   @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump   @wolfeyedwitch   @interdimensional-chaos   @termsnconditions-apply   @whump-blog   @leyswhumpdump  @not-a-space-alien   @onlybadendings   @darlingwhump  @sparrowsage   @flynnswhumpprompts  @whumpcereal  @wolves-and-winters  @ashh-ed  @idkmansomeusername @whuarri  @33-sdtr-45 @pigeonwhumps  @canislycaon24  @the-whumpers-grimm  @damienxozmoze  @predacon-skydrift  @morning-star-whump @neverthelass @the-magpiesystem @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @mushroomlover554 @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kadeee00 @that-one-small-world

(let me know if I’ve missed you or if you’d like to be added!)

-

How do you plead for your life with pen and paper? Would the fear, desperation and agony translate to the ink? The question wracks Declan’s brain, pounding against his aching skull as he clutches onto his pen like it’s his last lifeline.

It might be.

A shaking, yet stern death grip nearly crushes the plastic. Countless balls of paper are scrunched up and strewn across the room, and the notebook sitting on his lap is drowning in countless scribbles, all scratches of words that he determined were not enough to save his life. Splotches of ink once begging for home, or even a scrap of mercy; now blurred. Splattered with his tears. 

The vampire thinks he’s fast asleep. Resting, recuperating - whatever the hell it is he should be doing. But Declan’s night is August’s day. The terror keeps Declan wide awake, knowing that the creature is stalking the halls, waiting for the right moment to strike when Declan lets his guard down to sleep, at his most vulnerable. Why else would he have taken Declan in?

He’s scoured the room already; there’s nothing to whittle or fashion into a makeshift stake. There is no protection. Because August has thought everything through, of course. No weapons, no defence nor even privacy or dignity.

He’s a prisoner again and nothing more, he reminds himself. He won’t be fooled by the simplicity of a blanket or hot meals, even if the feeling of fullness in his belly feels like an impossible blessing he knows he’s not worthy of. His purpose is to be a blood-bag. Food. It’s nothing short of cruel and barbaric to trick him into thinking that anything more than anguish lies on his horizon. Freedom is a privilege not for the likes of him. He’d squandered his, took it for granted. 

The vampires had won. They’ve broken him down into nothing. The leeches have taken everything from him, and even with nothing left to give, they still want more. They can’t suck him dry of his blood, so they’ll drain his life away. He misses when he didn’t know the difference. 

Please - Declan writes down for the millionth time. It’s a good start. It’s just whether he pleads for mercy, or maybe for direction and orders? Just so he can know what his new master actually wants from him. It feels like he’s back at square one all over again. Stumbling in the dark, so terrified of the unknown and not knowing what to expect, how to behave and stay out of trouble. He knows now. It took everything from him, but he knows how to be good now and he just wants to show August how well behaved he can be. He won’t fight back, just so long as August tells him what to do. He’ll listen. 

He could write ‘please let me go’ and leave it up to August’s interpretation, whether letting him go means returning him home or…to finally be put to rest. If August truly wants to be merciful, and follow through with his promises of no more pain; he’d put him out of his misery. It would be a kindness.

The jarring creak of the door snaps Declan out of his thoughts;  he yelps and stuffs the notepad quickly under his blanket. He is quick to hide the damning evidence that will no doubt land him his first punishment from his master. He can’t lose the little comfort Sir is allowing him right now. Not yet.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you’d be asleep,” August mumbles, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as his eyes dart all over the room to avoid eye contact. 

Declan presses his back flat against the headboard of the bed, his spine forced pencil straight, cowering under his blanket, glancing over the top. His eyes stay peeled on August, pupils blown wide with fright. Like a scared puppy in the pound, cornered by the dog warden. He’s sure August was hoping he was asleep. It’s easier to take advantage of a blood bag when they aren’t ready for you. Declan knows. He knows all too well.

“I was just going to-" August trails off, pointing to Declan’s bedside, sheepishly scuttling over to turn up the drip. The look of panic in Declan’s eyes instantly glazes over into a foggy, far-away look. A wave of ecstasy crashes over him. Pain melting away that he didn't even notice was there, he'd long grown accustomed to it.

"There. That should be more comfortable. I hope."

Declan’s eyes roll back into his skull, eyelids fluttering shut as he lets out a low and throaty groan, slouching back into the bed. Even the panic seems to be shoved down deep in his mind, even if he doesn’t want it to. He just lets the sleep come for him, no energy to push back, and steal him under. 

Only then does August notice the dozens of balls of paper littered around the room and Declan's notepad sticking up in a jagged shape underneath his blanket. August rifles through the sheets to pull it out.

“What?” August gasps to himself, flicking his thumb through page after page of just black ink blocks.

He can't make out much. It's all scribbled out. But he can make out a few words lurking underneath the abyss of swirls.

A few “please”’s are hidden in there, a “home” dotted here and there. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what the intention of the letter was. A letter crying out for mercy. Declan still can't quite comprehend, or even trust that he's in good hands. That just maybe the hell he’s endured is truly behind him and he can look forward, without having to look over his shoulder. 

August can feel his heart drop in his chest. He can feel the terror radiating from the pages, and it’s devastating to think of what must have been running through Declan’s mind in the moments when he tried to write those letters. 

They can't keep going like this, round in circles with this breakdown of communication. How can August ever get through to Declan if the boy can't even voice his worries and wants? There’s no way for August to guide him. 

It doesn’t matter. August will figure it out. Tomorrow, he will begin the journey to help Declan recover his voice. 

*!*!*!*!*!*

“D-Declan? Oh, my baby… I’m here. Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay-”

Mom? 

The tears already spill down his cheeks before his eyes can flutter open. The world stands still around them. In this moment, there’s just him and her. Nothing else exists. No horrors lived through, and no monsters hiding under the bed.

She’s here. She’s really here. She doesn’t look a day older than the last time he saw her, God knows how many years ago now. Same outfit too. The scratchy wool sweater he bought her for her birthday one year, beige with bunnies on it. 

His jaw stutters open, a strangled rasp making its way out instead of all the words he wishes he could say to her. How much he’s missed her, thought of her every single day that he could think, loved her with every fibre of his being when all his world was consumed with hate.

All he can do is weep, stretching his arms and reaching out for her, grabbing at the air with his hands. She daren’t wait a second longer, sprinting towards him and pulling him up into a crushing embrace, wrapping her arms so tight and burying her nose into his ruffled hair. Who knows if she’ll ever let go again?

She smells the same too. She smells like home. 

After all these days of August swearing safety and freedom, all those lies he’s been fed, this is it. This is the first time he’s felt he can accept that he’s safe. Now that she’s found him, everything will be okay.

Declan squeezes tighter, tighter than ever before. He nuzzles in towards her belly and lets his eyes slip shut. It’s time to finally go home. 

Then, a dark chortle rumbles above him. The sweet smell of perfume diffuses in the air, and a musty smell swims up Declan’s nostrils instead. The room feels stale, like all the light has been extinguished and the air has been sucked out of it. Or maybe it’s his own lungs; all he knows is that he can’t breathe all of a sudden. The terror grips his throat again. The arms around him crush against him, and sharp nails dig into his back. 

“Aw. Needy little blood bag, aren’t we, Deccy?”

Vince.

Where did  his mother go? She was just here in his arms. The world was right again, and now it’s been flipped upside down. The dark snuffs out the light, and loving touch is replaced with pain. 

In the entire time Declan lay dormant, his eyes saw a thousand horrors that his mind wasn’t awake to comprehend. Now, he’s awake. Now, he can understand and feel the fear. How can that be fair? That living as a zombie, not quite here but not quite gone, is somehow miraculously better than the alternative? 

Life. Life that he fought tooth and nail for. But he lost himself in the fight. And now Vince has come back to drag his sorry ass back down to that vile basement, to reclaim what’s rightfully his. It doesn’t matter how many times Declan tries to remind himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone; Vince is always there to remind him of his place. 

Declan screeches, trying in vain to untangle his limbs from the demon who tore his life to shreds. He thumps his fists against Vince’s chest to get out of his grip. It doesn’t matter. Vince holds him easily. Finally, With all the strength he can muster, Declan shoves Vince out of his arms, pushing him away from the bed as he goes stumbling backwards.

But it’s not Vince who staggers away from him. 

August nearly trips backwards over his own feet and stares back at Declan in astonishment, hurt painted across his face. August’s eyes are full of betrayal and concern, and Declan can’t wipe the confusion from his face. None of this makes any sense. He heard Vince, he saw him, he felt him.

“I’m so sorry. Did I spook you? I didn’t mean to. You’re okay, no-one’s going to hurt you!” August stresses, holding his palms out before him as if to demonstrate his innocence. 

Declan's head is about to implode. He can't begin to fathom what's unravelling before his very eyes. Curling into himself, he wails, mourning the loss of home all over again. The universe won't grant him an uninterrupted moment of silence, not without fear.

If he could, he’d go back and talk to himself; go and speak wisdom to the poor old Declan curled up and sobbing himself to sleep on his mattress and tell him it’s okay. To stop fighting. Because what was he fighting for?

He thought he was fighting for life. But what kind of life is this suffering? Is pain and terror? Deception at every turn.

Strangely enough, Declan recalls hearing a voice telling him that. That it was okay, everything would be okay. To let himself fall, because Vince’s words would be there to catch him. The burden of thought and choice, the risk of messing up would be taken away. He’d be the perfect vessel and blood bag.

At the time, Declan thought it was Vince’s persuasion luring him into giving over that final bit of control. Sweet tempting words to let him slip away,

Now, he wonders if it was him. If it was that final bit of him left suffocating under Vince’s power, laying down the sword. Giving up the fight. Telling Declan that they lost, but that’s okay. The sweet surrender of sleep was coming. 

Whatever was coming for him, was okay. It would be better.

It would have been. If it wasn’t for August. The saviour that’s condemned him…

*!*!*!*!*

Declan jumps awake in his bed, springing to sit upright, a scream tearing its way out of his dry throat, drenched in cold sweats through to the sheets. He pats his cheeks, feeling the dampness of tears latch to his fingertips.

It wasn't real.

No-one is there. A sliver of moonlight spotlights the space where August was standing moments ago. No, not August, Not Vince… or Mom. She was never here, they're still worlds apart. And it's like a knife to the heart, losing her all over again. 

He's living to suffer, despite the words his captors try to delude him with. Alive under August's wish only, to feed from and toy with. It doesn’t matter that August hasn’t used him yet. He will. Declan knows it. It’s August who is responsible for this; he caused that vile nightmare. August had drugged him in the middle of the night. 

The blood pounds in Declan’s ears, his heartbeat thumping rabbit fast in his chest. Panic beats him to a pulp, and he chokes on his own wet sobs as he desperately gasps to catch his breath. He rocks back and forth in his bed, slamming his palm over his mouth to trap in the cries.

Footsteps thunder down the hallway, and Declan’s ears prick up at the sound of sprinting at lightning pace as August and Lucas burst into the room. They both look terrified.  They must have  heard the blood-curdling scream echo through the house, and come running that very second. To subdue him again, Declan is sure.

"Declan! Everything okay in here-?"

Declan doesn't respond, he can't - he's too busy crying himself into hysterics, hyperventilating for breath. His eyes so wild, bloodshot red that they nearly matched those of the monster gawking at him in shock.

“What’s wrong? What happened?!” August gasps, rushing to one side of Declan's bed, Lucas the other. Declan cries out again, rolling away from August and reaching out for Lucas for protection, grabbing onto his t-shirt and burrowing his face to hide away. He must look so pathetic right now.  But Lucas is the one thing he's got left that’s closest to humanity in this place. An ally, someone he can rely on.

“C-Ca…Can’t-” Declan pants, sucking in desperate breaths as nausea twists in his gut. 

He can’t do it. He can’t cope anymore. He can’t be here, he can’t be food, or a plaything. Whatever he’s done in his life to deserve this, he’s so fucking sorry. But surely it’s time served by now, there has to be a point where he’s suffered enough. He deserves to go home and be free like the vampire keeps promising him he can. Why give him false hope? So he can revel in watching it be crushed again?

Lucas kneels down to Declan’s level, shooting him a solemn look. He slowly reaches for Declan’s trembling hand and places it flat on his chest, “Do what I do, yeah? Match my breathing. Slowly now, in and out.”

Declan feels his hand puff out with Lucas’ chest, following his exaggerated breaths. He focuses solely on matching, keeping in time–he does know how to do what he’s told, after all. He keeps inhaling through the nose…deep breath…back out again through the mouth. His eyes stay trained on Lucas’, and they breathe together until Declan’s back in the rhythm and the staccato gasps for air are no more.

“There we go. You’ve got this. It’s going to be okay,” Lucas consoles, beaming a smile at him. Deep down, Declan feels like he may be able to spare a pinch of trust in him. 

“I think you just had a bad dream. You’re safe, Declan," August chimes in. He sounds as though he’s trying to comfort, and even if Declan doesn’t believe him, he tries his best to not to scream at the top of his lungs to stop lying, no matter how badly he wants to. It doesn’t matter anyway. August probably knows exactly what he’s thinking. They always do. 

"Can you say it back to me? You’re safe.”

Declan presses his lips together. Not a chance. He's not falling for it, not playing along with the sick mind games. That is, of course, until Lucas nods encouragingly at him, a reassuring smile begging him to at least try. Maybe if they hear it, hear him try, they’ll leave him alone. 

“S-...s-sa-” Declan stammers and stutters, his voice barely rising above a whisper. The entire time, his brain is begging him to not believe his own words.

When was the last time he truly felt safe?

“-fe. S-sa..fe” 

Who is safe anymore? Where is safe? What does that word even mean anymore? He thought maybe Lucas was safe… and he seems it. But maybe he's just as bad, he's complicit. Declan pulls his hand away from Lucas and holds it close to him. It’s a fool's game to trust.

“S-Sa..fe.”

He’ll never be safe again. 

Declan bursts into tears, shaking his head furiously and snatching his notepad from the bedside stand. August stops and takes a step back to give him space. Declan feels August’s eyes as he writes. 

L I E S

August crumbles to his knees at the sight of the words. Declan doesn’t understand. If he’s angry, why doesn’t he just hurt Declan like Vince always did? Why go through the motions of pretending to care? It’s not as if it makes a difference. Declan is August’s to use, no matter what.  

"Declan, please believe me. It's not a lie."

LET ME GO

"I will. I promise I'm not - I'm not keeping you here. You’re not a prisoner. No harm will ever come to you. You just need to heal, then we can look at getting you home. I can’t send you back like this - a shell of yourself."

The mask slips, August has finally dropped the ball. Just like Declan knew he would eventually. He’s being sent back to Vince. Patched up and shipped back. He just can’t believe August can dare refer to it as ‘home’. He was right all along, he knew August was tricking him. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, knowing that when he’s recovered and healthy, August will hand him back over to Vince so he can be broken all over again. 

It’s not fair that he woke up. It’s not. He’s been through hell and back. What is the fucking point if he’s only being made strong enough so that they can drain him all over again? They had no right to wake him up. They had no right to continue his suffering. Who gave August the right to play god?

-

Special thank you to @whumpcereal for the amazing beta on this for me! <3 and to @darkthingshappen and @sparrowsage for cheering me on when I was struggling!

#Shattered #Vampire Whumper #Vampire Caretaker #Bloodbag whumpee #whump OC #whump #whump community #whump writing #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #Declan Durant OC #August Crinamorte OC #Lucas Slater OC #recovery #recovery fic #rescued whumpee #non verbal #nightmare #noncon drugging #panic attack

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Some dialogue from my next shattered wip chapter 🫣 between August and Lucas

"...my name is August, by the way. Could I please at least know your name too?

"Names are sacred, leech. I plan to keep that secret for as long as I can keep my mind."

#drops and skidaddles away nehehehee #shattered #wip #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #august crinamorte oc #lucas slater oc

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✨for August and Lucas and Declan!

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

August - I can't explain this but for the longest time I've been infatuated with the name 'August' for a vampire. I just love it. And I've mentioned before that I adore name meanings for my characters and August means 'great, magnificent' and I think it does suit him!

Lucas - I'ma be totally honest, I think I just scrolled through name lists for Lucas asdfghjkl - He's one of the few OC's where his name didn't immediately come to me.

Declan - MANY A REASONS! One, I love the name Declan and have for many years. And whenever I think of the name Declan, I always imagine brown hair, brown eyes. And it also means "full of goodness" my sweet boy. Nothing better than the sweetest, innocent whumpee being completely broken ;)

#ty for the ask! #shattered #august crinamorte oc #lucas slater oc #declan durant oc #vampire caretaker #bloodbag whumpee #whump #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #oc ask game

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Shattered Masterlist

Vampire Whumper, Vampire Caretaker, Pet/Bloodbag Whumpee

Years of being held captive, under the vampires brutal persusasion has finally broken Declan, shattered his mind. Not living but not quite dead, paralysed in a comatose-like state. Vince decides his once delicious bloodbag has finally reached its end, selling it during it's final few days. When August sees the advert for the dying human, he knows what he must do. Taking on the responsibility of nursing Declan back to health - though he is woefully unprepared for just how deep and severe the damage is and the hardships that will arise whilst tackling it.

(Forgot to mention!: this was heavily inspired by both @whumpsday 'Kane & Jim' series and @t0rture-me 'Cat & Mouse' which are so beautifully written and I love to no end - cannot reccomend enough!!!)

*I will attempt to update regularly!

Chapters:

× Chapter One - 'End of the Road'

× Chapter Two - 'Sold'

× Chapter Three - 'Trials & Tribulations'

× Chapter Four - 'Clever Boy'

× Chapter Five - 'Slowly But Surely'

× Chapter Six - Waking Nightmare

× Chapter Seven - A Foot Wrong

× Chapter Eight - Lies, Lies, Lies

× Chapter Nine - It's Cruel to Be Kind

× Chapter Ten - Happy Birthday, August! Part I

- Part Two

-

UPCOMING:

Chapter Ten (Part III) - Happy Birthday, August!

-

Drabbles

Asks

Picrews

Fanart

Collabs:

'Shattered Shadow'

-

Big thank you to @sparrowsage for his wonderful help with the banner!!! 🥰😘

#Shattered #vampire whumper #vampire caretaker #bloodbag whumpee #pet whump #whump oc #my ocs #whump #whump community #whump blog #whump writing #whumpblr #whumpee #whumper #whump writer #whump masterpost #whump masterlist #masterlist #just updating masterlists dont mind me 👀 #August Crinamorte OC #Vince Morelli OC #Declan Durant OC #Lucas Slater OC

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #3 - Trials & Tribulations

Masterlist / Previous / Next

CW: References to Vampire Whumper, Vampire Caretaker, Pet/Bloodbag Whumpee, References to captivity, Recovery Whump, Wound cleaning, Drugs/Medication, Stripping of clothes (Non-sexual, for wounds), Vegetative State/Disassociation, Use of hypnosis/mind control, Choking, Mentions of death, Illness/infection, Referenced previous abuse

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername @ramadiiiisme @darkthingshappen @whumpsday @thecyrulik @t0rture-me @redwhump @the-non-binary-cowboy @snowstuffscuff @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @wolfeyedwitch @interdimensional-chaos @no-terms-and-conditions-apply @whump-blog @leyswhumpdump @not-a-space-alien @onlybadendings @darlingwhump (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed 👀)

-

Was this a foolish endeavour? Such irrational attachment and concern for a mere mortal, one August didn't even know existed until a day prior.

Because August would turn the world upside down if it meant that Declan could understand that he was finally safe…finally free. To know that his captivity and all its pain was a burden of his past, and that August would be honoured to ensure the safety of his future.

And with the unsettling way in which the boy's struggling breath wheezed from his bruised chest in the troubled slumber, dead-weight slumped in August's arms and the nauseating temperature pressing against him: skin to skin. Fire to ice.

August knew this was right.

Declan just needed someone - anyone to care. That's all he had ever wanted as well. When he could want, that is. When his mind still allowed him the capacity for desires and dreams. If only he were lucid enough to know that his wishes were coming true.

Night after night locked away in the vampire's basement, silently praying for someone to drag him out from the pits of hell, far away from the devil himself. The only company had been the lingering pain that had scarily become a comfort: after the beatings came merciful silence. Vince would leave him to writhe and sob in agony but at least he left - maybe only for a short while but it was a break nonetheless. Relief from constant torment.

August had called ahead of his arrival back home, asking his housemate to prepare Declan's new room and to begin setting up the medical equipment from his work study. He was beyond grateful that he had Lucas, a human, on side to ease Declan's recovery. It would help him acclimatise to the new environment, to have a sense of familiarity.

But also to vouch for his character. As much as August desperately wanted the boy awake, aware and able - there remained a niggling feeling pitting in his stomach. Dread. Dreading that moment where their eyes would lock for the first time, the inevitable strike of panic and a wash of pure terror in which Declan would realise:

Another vampire.

-

A corpse? Surely not…

Lucas’ jaw damn near broke from his skull when it dropped from bewilderment, eyes captivated by the harrowing sight of the lifeless boy cradled in close towards his friend’s chest; ashen-faced and lank limbs swaying loosely through the air. His lips were turning blue.

The vampire had warned him the new human he was going to collect was in rough shape; battered and broken. But this… this was beyond comprehension - a knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach.

August quickly scurries through the door, neglecting to notice or even acknowledge his friend standing dumbstruck in the hallway. Instead he hurriedly rushes past, barrelling up the stairs and carrying Delcan into one of the bedrooms.

The poor thing is just so incredibly feather light, and so unbelievably frail; he feels as fragile as fine china. So much so that August is hesitant to place him down in fear of him smashing to smithereens. He gently lowers Declan on top of the bed, allowing the limp form to slowly slip from his grasp - plummeting into the soft sheets that cushions the slight drop.

He wants to wrap the boy up in heaps of warm fluffy blankets, to tuck him in and leave him in peace to get the rest that he’s been so deprived of, the sleep he’s been refused for who knows how long? Alas, they must get the hard part out of the way.

When August had become a doctor, opening a surgery within his own home, he wanted to help ease the suffering of humans, lessen their horrific ordeal - he'd never anticipated it going down the malicious path it did. His skillset grew to be used against him; affluent, high class vampires dropping half-dead yet 'valuable' pets on his doorstep - demanding a miracle. It quickly transpired that his work made no difference to people's lives, he was essentially slapping a band-aid on them and shipping them back to torment .

A vicious cycle of fixing blood bags up to send them on their merry way and then bought back again the next time they were nearly killed. But maybe this time, with Declan, he could actually make a difference. He could actually save a human. And they could remain saved.

August’s ears twitch at the light pitter patter of footsteps creeping into the room behind him, swiftly followed by the waft of fresh, delicious blood that makes his nostrils flare and fangs itching to bare. He’d been around Declan for so many hours now, inhaling the rancid smell of near-decay that he’d almost forgotten how tempting that scent was.

“August, I -” Lucas whispered with concern, fiddling with his fingers from the nerves.

“I know… I know.” August cuts him off, not turning his head away from Declan laying on the bed - running the back of his knuckle lightly across his bony, sweat-drenched cheeks as though to lessen the blow when he stabbed the cannula into the back of his hand. He couldn't stop trying to redundantly comfort and soothe the boy, it was in his nature.

What does he know? Lucas ponders to himself. Does he know that boy looks like he’s already knocking on death’s door? Does he know that he’s definitely in way over his head?

“Is he even alive?”

“Just about.” August sighs, not entirely convinced himself, “He’s really fighting, Lucas. Clinging on to life by a thread.” August now fiddled with numerous pouches of IV antibiotics, painkillers, nutrients - pulling the stands by Declan's bedside ready to flush into his body.

“His owner was a cruel bastard… another day with him and he would be a goner-”

“How can I help?”

“I - I need some help undressing him if you don't mind. I need to examine his injuries, send some painkillers in his system, get him cleaned up. Could do with a hand?"

"Anything you need, man."

As the pair peel away the still drenched clothes clinging to Declan's skin, August freezes. Rolling Declan’s shirt up to reveal his torso covered in vicious and recent injuries littering the entirety of his body. Raw, weeping gashes from whip marks, smoldering blistering burns, deep slashes from stab wounds - warm colourful bruises spotted around his skin in polka dots. All overlayering already healing scars and marks.

“Vince said Declan has been like this for months…”

Lucas stops what he’s doing, remaining silent and cautious as his eyes land on his friend who stands lightly tracing delicate fingers around heated, wounded skin on the boy.

“These wounds… I - they can’t be anything more than a few weeks old”

August retreats and slightly paces, sticking his tongue in his cheek and clenching his fists. He had half a mind to return to Vince's manor and drive a wooden stake through the fuckers's heart - provided he actually had one. But that would be too dignified an end for the likes of him.

“Even in this helpless state he was still being hurt - that’s fucking sick-”

“He doesn’t deserve this-”, Lucas sighs sympathetically in agreement, clutching onto Declan's hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Nobody deserves this - was killing his soul not enough? He needed to break his body as well as his mind?! A race to see which one cracks first-” August was almost screaming the words, disgust and fury warping together.

“You’re right to be angry about this, August. It’s disgusting. But you need to channel that anger into something positive, to help Declan.”

Damn it, he was right. He couldn't allow himself to get emotional - he needed to detach himself and focus on Declan's health. The time could come later for righting wrongs - he needed to get the boy through this first.

August didn't know if Declan could even register pain anymore. He hoped he couldn't, as he returned to his side, beginning to run alcohol swabbed cotton along his infected bites - knowing that this should draw a hiss of discomfort from the sharp sting. Repeating the disinfecting on his numerous wounds, dressing them all in fresh bandages. Feeding the drips into his veins - they were impossible to find with how much weight he'd lost, they were almost invisible and hiding.

“Can you fix him up with something to eat? Something easy, something smooth - I wouldn’t know what’s best-”

“Don’t worry, I got it.”

Lucas returns a short while later, clutching a bowl with a thick red liquid sloshing around its edges. It looks delicious. It looks like blood. But the sickly scent fills August's nostrils and he nearly wretches as the taste infects his mouth, covering his nose from the smell. He tries to suss out what it is.

“What is that?”

“Tomato soup. It’ll be easy for him to swallow, he won’t have to chew", August pulls an unsure face but accepts the food with a thankful nod.

"August, I must ask... Is it your intention to feed from the boy?"

"Oh goodness, no! I know Vince said that he'll probably get through a few more days, but I believe that one last feed will be his end. He needs to recover", August reassures, though slightly offended at the implication. Declan wasn't food or prey - not anymore. He was a patient under his care.

When Lucas leaves the room, smiling with satisfaction at his friend's answer, August turns to return to Declan, he spots those big brown eyes staring off into space. He’s awake, which is a good sign.

"Hey… Declan. I bought you something to eat. My friend tells me it's motato soup or something? God, I hope you like that…". He perches on the side of the bed, helping Declan up into a sitting position and trying to get a spoon of soup into his parted lips.

But Declan’s body refuses to cooperate, his woozy head continuously dropping to fall back asleep.

"Come on, buddy…just a few spoonfuls - then you can sleep as much as you want-"' his fingers catch Declan's head before it flops again, "in your nice, comfy bed, hm?" August ‘s palms trail across the soft blanket sitting underneath Declans body, fingertips trailing through the fibres beside the boy’s legs. A luxury he was well aware Declan was never allowed, he'd spotted the grimy, ripped mattress with rusting springs popping out when he'd picked the boy up. And specks of what he could only assume was dried blood; he didn’t want to think about that.

A part of him was frightened that if he let the boy fall back to sleep…

Well, what if he never wakes up?

Declan blinks, his lip drooping as the spoon enters his mouth, tipping the warm gooey liquid onto his tongue. But as it slides down past his tonsils and to his throat, his body begins rebelling against the sensation, spluttering and choking as his body heaves and gags. A gasping, gurgling noise sounding from his throat.

“Nononono, shit!”, August frantically crawls to his side, throwing his fists around Declan's ribcage and abdomen, thrusting him backwards to get the thick liquid back up his throat before finally bending him over to the side of the bed and getting him to throw up.

Declan sits wheezing with bile trickling down his chin, short chesty breaths, August holding him in his arms and rubbing his back.

"There you are…you're okay…you're good"

August is so exhausted already. So frustrated. He sits Declan upright in the bed. If he lays him down and he retches again, he’ll choke. Game over. He picks up the bowl and the spoon and storms out the room, slamming the door so hard cracks splinter within the walls.

He isn’t furious with Declan, he could never blame him for whatever hell he endured to end up like this. He’s furious with the entire situation. Furious with Vince. And furious with every bastard vampire that selfishly puts their own hunger above the life of another being.

As he enters the kitchen, he lunges the bowl flying straight at the wall with a growl. The ceramic smashes to pieces, crashing to the ground with thick tomato soup coating and splashing against the walls and marble floors. The tremendous bang alerts Lucas who comes speeding into the room

“What the hell happened here?!”

Lucas’s sight lands on his friend, crumbled to the ground, head in his hands, panting with anger. August brings his hands to cover his face as he screams into his palms with defeat, muffling it.

"Hey, hey, hey, what happened?" Lucas crouches beside him, a hand landing on his shoulder, rubbing it to console him.

"I knew it was bad. That his mind was mush but… fuck, Lucas! He can't even eat!"

"What if … you persuaded him to eat?"

"Then what's the point of us doing this? What's the point in doing any of this if we have to resort to the very thing we rescued him from?"

Lucas listens. That’s what August needs right now, just someone to recognise and hear that he’s trying.

"He'll never heal if I have to control him just for survival. His mind needs a complete respite from just… functioning."

"What do you plan on doing then, where’s your head at?"

"I don't know.." he runs his fingers through his hair, deep in thought, "Seeing if we can get some liquidized food down him without retching? Feeding tube? Intravenous nutrition?". All such invasive procedures, most needing anaesthetic. August wasn't sure Declan's body could handle that much physical stress.

"I did do some research before buying Declan; on vampires, our abilities, the effect of persuasion…Have you ever heard of the fungi: Ophiocordyceps unilateralis?"

"I - what?", Lucas stares blankly, befuddled.

“Zombie-ant fungi. It's a fungus in the Amazon rainforest that infects ants, hijacking their mind and draining its nutrients. They corrupt the host, seize control of its muscles - the infection causes the neurons that control the body to die. Its brain is still in the driver seat, but the fungus has the wheel."

"Sound familiar?" August lets out a faux scoffed laugh, pointing his finger to the ceiling where Declan's room lays above.

"Persuasion…", the puzzle pieces click together. There could be an answer.

"I have a connection in Brazil that has been researching fungi and the insects it hijacks, trying to develop a sort of antidote…antivenom per se to vampiric persuasion. It’s in very early development but… they think they may be onto something. It’s shown to have a significant effect in reducing its effects on humans."

“Well, shit! how do we get our hands on some?”

“I’ll reach out to them, she owes me a favour. See if I can get my hands on a sample… it may not work, but it’s worth a try, right?"

“That or let him die.”

There's a beat of awkward silence. The two sit slumped together on the floor, glaring at their folded knees.

"Lucas, I think it’s best if we don't get our hopes up.” August chimed in, realising their doomed mission and the hoops they needed to jump through to save the human.

“I hate to say this… I agree.”

“He’s in rough shape, it’s a very slim chance he might make it. We can only do our best for him now, either help him turn the tide or offer him comfort in his final days. But we couldn’t have left him there.”

“What we’re doing is very experimental… it’s not guaranteed to work-”

“But…you did say their research had promising results”

“And it does, but it’s still in early development. It’s never been tested on a case like this.”

Maybe it was cruel to put Declan’s body through this amount of stress; maybe the kinder thing to do would be to let him go, and to end the suffering. Even with this 'antivenom', 'vaccine', whatever you'd like to call it: it wasn’t guaranteed to work, and if it did he still wouldn’t be out of the woods for a while - it would be taxing.

But it just felt so wrong to let him slip away. To not be given a fighting chance. August pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up his contacts, hovering his finger over the name of his old university friend.

Hoping with his whole heart that she can offer some help.

Some light in the dark.

-

#sorry I didnt mean for this to get so long! #but im excited for captivity flashbacks 😈 #vampire whumper #vampire caretaker #bloodbag whumpee #whump #whump community #whump writing #whump blog #whumpblr #whumpee #whumper #recovery fic #rescued #recovery whump #captivity #Declan Durant OC #Vince Morelli OC #August Crinamorte OC #Lucas Slater OC

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☾ - sleep headcanon ★ - sad headcanon

for Declan, Lucas, and August thanks

HEADCANONS THAT ARE ACTUALLY CANONS LOLOL

☾ - sleep headcanon

Declan - From captivity onwards, Declan mostly sleeps in the fetal position. Balled up as small and tight as he can get. And if he can, he never sleeps facing away from doors, and if his bed is against the wall - he sleeps with his back pressed against it so he's not vulnerable in his sleep.

Lucas - Lucas has to have the TV on to fall asleep! He needs background noise. He used to live on the streets, and I think he's used to sleeping with the sound of traffic and chatter etc.

August - (Again this isn't so much a headcanon as canon canon buT OH WELL!). We all know that as a Vamp, August is nocturnal. He sleeps during the day. With Declan in his care, he swaps his sleep schedule around so he can be with Declan, and awake when he needs him. He starts forcing himself awake all day and crashing at night. But it also means he barely gets to go out and socialise because the sun-

★ - sad headcanon

Declan - Not so much a headcanon as a fact but it's still sad... Declan has missed six years of his sister growing up </3 He left when she was just starting to talk, and when he returns home, she'll be in school. Declan will be a stranger to her, she'll only know him through stories from their mum and dad.

Lucas - Lucas has no living relatives left </3 He was living rough on the streets when August 'found' him (next chapter will go into this more ;) )

August - (i have a scene written for this) As a child, August was terrified of humans. His mother told him that humans were violent and aggressive, and would rip him limb from limb if they got hold of him. So one day when he sneaks one of the bloodbags some food because he feels bad for them, his mother locks him in the cellar with all their humans. Terrified baby August sobs his little heart out and pounds on the door because he thinks the humans are going to kill him for what his family has done to them.

#Shattered #Declan Durant OC #Lucas Slater OC #August Crinamorte oc #bloodbag whumpee #vampire caretaker #whump #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #captivity

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🙃 for Declan please

From this ask game!

🙃 - Someone to share their suffering with

Aaaaaa yes! Please accept this AU drabble of Shattered where Lucas was held captive by Vince alongside Declan (DW in my mind, within this AU, August would still save them both eventually </3)

-

"It's okay, Dec... It's okay. Just sleep."

Lucas was trying his best to protect Declan. He just hated that his best didn't ever seem to be enough. The drained whimpers and protesting cries broke his heart. Declan restlessly rolled about on his mattress, weakly pushing against the gentle hands trying to hold him down, urging him to rest.

For once. Just rest for once. He needed a few days at least to recuperate, and Lucas would try and buy him that time no matter what it takes.

"I-I can't!" Declan wailed, his voice hoarse and scratchy, "It's feeding time soon. I can't be asleep when sir comes down. Not... Not after last tme- please, Lucas-"

Declan pulls down the neck of his shirt, pointing to his long slit of a scar across his throat. Now partially faded and silvering in it's healing, but it will always be there. To remind Declan to be a good bloodbag.

"I wasn't here last time. I'll cover for you. He gets me or no-one today."

Lucas reaches over Declan to grab the thin blanket discarded into a bunched heap up against the wall, pulling it over Declan's shivering body.

The blanket that cost him a whole day of zero control whatsoever, only existing to be Vince's puppet and plaything. Which is technically normality anyway, but at least they got relief when left alone during the daytime. A whole day where he couldn't so much as breathe or blink unless Vince allowed it, and every minute was filled with agonising pain.

But it was worth it when the blanket was chucked carelessly to the bottom of the stairs, and he wrapped it over Declan as he slept and he could've sworn he saw a slight, exhausted yet content smile grow on his face.

"H-Have to be on my knees! Neck ready!" Declan repeated his instructions, still scrambling to get up and run to the centre of the room before Vince arrives to see his disobedience.

"Not a chance" Lucas pushes him back down, more suggesting than forcing him to. He's so frail, he just flops back against the mattress.

And then the door locks rattle, Vince is coming. Declan gasps in horror but Lucas rushes to the usual spot, taking Declan's place in folding to his knees and offering his neck.

The vampire had made it abundantly clear that Declan's blood was his favourite; delicious to every last drop. Lucas' however was more so a means as a backup, a last reserve. So when Vince descends into the basement to see Declan curled up in bed and that Lucas is to be his dinner...

An unholy fury fills him.

"And what in the fuck do you think you're doing?" Vince scowls at Lucas, blinking from him to Declan at the audacity of the pair. Conspiring against him to ruin his meal.

"He's too weak, you can't feed from him today. Take me" Lucas informs, folding his neck further to his shoulder to fully expose his throat.

Vince storms towards him and grabs him by the throat, lifting him off his knees as Lucas strangles and chokes around his hand, "You don't get to tell me what to do, human. I want his. It's sweeter, divine... yours tastes stale."

In one swift, sudden motion - Lucas is thrown across the room with brute strength. Crashing into the brick wall and slumping on the floor in a hysteric wheezing, coughing fit. Hot pain floursishing across his back from the impact.

He can only watch through dazed vision as the vampire nears the bed, and watching Declan's blurred form suddenly startle and rush to untangle himself from his blanket.

"S-Sir, I didn't mean to disobey you, I'm sorry! Please, take as much as you want!" Declan pleads, offering himself as quick as he can, the vampire already bearing his fangs.

"Fine, do it" Lucas calls from the other side of the room, Vince's eyes burning into him, "Feed from him. Enjoy your dead, rotting bloodbag when he doesn't survive much longer. And you're only left with me."

That catches his attention. Vince leaves Declan's side, even though he's still pulling himself to his knees, unaware the vampire is leaving him be.

"He needs a break. Just a small one. Let him recuperate, build up his blood cells. Try again in a few days. You need to compromise if you want to keep your tasty bloodbag, Sir" Lucas narrows his eyes, his tone turning stern, knowing that he's ordering his owner. But it seems to be working, as Vince glares between his two bloodbags, weighing up his options.

"A day, Lucas. He gets one day to rest. And then I expect to be met with him kneeling next time I come down here and not you, am I understood?"

Lucas nods, knowing one day is the only mercy they will be granted and to bargain for more would risk losing it altogether.

"Am I understood?" he now directs the biting question towards Declan, who too frantically nods in agreement. Tears in his eyes in amazement at the mercy he's being allowed. One day is enough, it's more than he ever could have dreamt of. How could he ever thank Lucas enough for this?

Vince bites down into Lucas's neck, drawing out a sharp gasp as he winces and grits his teeth, tensing the muscles in his neck that only makes it worse. He can't quite meet Declan's teary gaze as he's being fed from, feeling the blood being sucked and whooshed from his neck. He's just glad it's him this time, he can take this.

"Bleh. That was fucking rank" Vince pulls back, still licking his lips before kicking him in the gut and making him keel over on the floor. Growling up at Vince.

"Does the job, though. Next time it's Declan's" and then Vince leaves them - he actually follows through on the deal and leaves them down in the basement. Declan untouched, unfed from.

Declan beams a forlorn but an attempt at a comforting smile at Lucas on the ground, mouthing "thank you...". He'll try to repay this when he's back on his feet, he knows he doesn't deserve the kindness, loyalty and friendship Lucas constantly offers him.

But he's forever grateful for it. Forever indebted to him.

He lets his tear-filled eyes slip closed, finally allowing himself to fall into the much needed rest. Lucas leans back against the wall, letting his head flop back to hold it up, keeping watch over Declan as he falls asleep.

#answered asks #comfort my OC #Declan Durant OC #Lucas Slater OC #Shattered #Vampire whumper #bloodbag whumpee #multiple whumpees #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity #ShatteredAsks #ShatteredDrabbles

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Could you make Lucas and august picrews as well?

this is for scientific experimental purposes <3

I can indeed! My two bois who do not have a picrew! (More can be done upon request, I need to hunt down a few good picrews to fully capture them! ❤️)

Here are my fave caretaker duo!

So this is August!:

And here is Lucas 🥹👉👈

#I need to do more - I KNOW I KNOW #but this is the basics of how they look and their features!! #Shattered #vampire caretaker #august crinamorte oc #Lucas Slater OC #whump #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity #bloodbag whumpee #vampire whumper #rescue #recovery whump #ShatteredPicrews #ShatteredAsks

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"Light" for your ask game!

Lucas 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. Until he’s kicking and shoving and a warbled cry rockets up his throat. “Snow,” August chimes in, pointing to the falling white powder crumbling through the door step, “We’re snowed in. Must be at least twelve inches of it, I would think.” “No. Nononono. This can’t be happening. We-We climb out the bedroom window!” Lucas’s eyes light up at the idea, sprinting towards the staircase in a panic.

#thank you for the ask!!! #shattered #august crinamorte oc #lucas slater oc #vampire caretaker #whump #whump writing #answered asks #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper