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oddsconvert · 19 days

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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…

---

@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 @androgynousqueenie @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kadeee00 @that-one-small-world @doodlepoodle154 @sodacreampuff @cupcakes-and-pain @topsheepstudent @mylovelyme @anonfromcanada @astrokea @turn-the-tables-on-them

#shattered #lucas slater oc #august crinamorte oc #vampire caretaker #bloodbag whumpee #defiant whumpee #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #captivity #blood mention #vomit mention #whumper #forced to be whumper

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whumpsday · 10 months

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Kane & Jim #52: Trust

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: kidnapping, rescue, comfort, vampire whumpee / caretaker / whumper, whumper turned whumpee turned caretaker, caretaker turned whumpee, begging, humans as livestock, mild classism?

Whumpmas in July Day 12: Search & Rescue

here it is! i've been trying to write this one since literally april, sorry it took so long. i imagine the present arc as divided into 3 parts.

this is the finale of part 1!

It had been six months since Jim brought him home, and Kane was fully on a human schedule. He'd gotten into human music as well, with Jim bringing home new CDs for him on a regular basis. He liked to listen to them before bed, after Jim had locked him back downstairs and the sun had set. He would take notes on the music, his hand no longer shaking with weakness. And when he was done and the basement he'd come to think of as home was silent again, he would drift off to sleep. Plagued often with nightmares, but he always knew that he'd wake up safe and unharmed.

A quiet, peaceful life. Kane got a shallow bowl of fresh blood each day, Jim never hurt him, and he had his own little space with possessions of both need and want. He didn't care that he was a prisoner, that the now-fixed door bolted shut each night, that he was made to wear chains upstairs, that he couldn't leave if he wanted to. He was safe. He was happy, something he never thought he would be again.

So it was all the more worrying when his quiet night was interrupted by the screech of tires and the sound of someone's frantic struggling with the front door.

Kane got up from his desk and went to bed immediately, wrapping himself up in his blanket as his mind raced with possibilities. The hunters, always his first fear. It made no sense, they'd handed him over to Jim willingly, but he couldn't stop picturing it. His tormentors coming to snatch him away from his new, peaceful life, where he didn't hurt anybody and nobody hurt him, bringing him back to that horrible place where there was only pain. He shuddered at the thought.

The front door clicked open upstairs, the right key finally inserted. "Jim!" Liz's familiar voice cried.

Kane allowed himself to relax, somewhat. Yes, a hunter, but one who he knew by now wouldn't hurt him without cause. He could never bring himself to feel fully comfortable around her, but she hadn't harmed him yet. And if he kept being good, maybe she wouldn't ever.

Jim's footsteps came quickly, and though Kane couldn't make out the exact words of their conversation after Liz's initial shout, he could tell it wasn't good. She was crying, he was pretty sure.

Kane slowly got out of bed, concerned. Something was wrong, that much was obvious, but he was locked in the basement, and there was nothing he could do. He crept over to the stairs, but didn't climb them, unwilling to get closer to the silver door.

"They took Laken!" Liz sobbed. "They're gone!"

Kane felt his heart drop into his stomach. There was only one thing Liz could have meant by that, only one they she could have been talking about. The relief he would always feel when one of the more sadistic hunters never came back, his gratitude that vampire hunting was such a dangerous job, come back twisted and cruel. The kindest hunter he'd ever met had been taken.

He imagined Laken, always sweet and friendly, Laken who fed him with their own blood as his birthday present, alone and scared and in pain. Shipped off to the blood farms, or kept as someone's personal blood source, their mind stolen from them over and over until persuasion erased their warm, loving personality entirely.

Tears sprung to his eyes at the thought. He couldn't breathe all of a sudden, Liz's sobs perfectly encapsulating his own roaring despair. His head fell into his hands as he cried along with her, sitting on the bottom step. Laken was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Wasn't there?

Kane picked his tear-streaked face up as the gears started to turn. He stood and knocked on the wall, unable to touch the door itself. "Hello?"

"Kane, man, just- not right now, okay? Go back to bed," Jim called, voice choked up.

A direct order. Jim hardly ever gave those. Kane scurried obediently back to bed, listening to the humans cry.

It was only a few minutes before he got back up. He was defying orders, now. He hadn't defied orders in years, hadn't ever defied one of Jim's, not since coming here. His legs felt like gel, his hands shaking at the prospect. But he had to.

He knocked on the wall again. "Jim?" he asked, wincing preemptively.

The door flew open, revealing Liz: bleeding from a wound on her jaw, her eyes red and puffy from crying, glaring down at him with unrepentant disdain. Stakes and nasty silver weapons still hung from her belt.

"What? What could you possibly want?" she snapped, her voice breaking.

Kane took a few steps back, heart pounding as he stared at her weapons. He'd disobeyed, and now the hunter was angry with him. He knew all-too-well that hunters always got more sadistic after they'd lost one of their own to his kind.

"I- I'm sorry, never mind," he backtracked, cowering away from her.

Jim peered over from behind his sister, wiping his face. "Lizzie-"

Liz paid him no mind, stomping down the stairs. "What? What is so important right now?" she demanded through tears.

Kane felt sick with panic, his safe haven suddenly horribly unsafe. He'd been doing so well, and now it would all be over, pain introduced back into his life. He bumped back against the wall, no more space for him to put between himself and the hunter.

"No, no, please!" he begged, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm sorry! I'll stop, please don't hurt me!"

"Liz?" Jim came down after her, arms wrapped around himself, looking haunted.

She kept her attention squarely on Kane. "No. I want to know. What?"

He should just make something up, he really should.

But Laken.

"I had an idea." He drew out each word as if to stall, his voice barely above a whisper.

Liz's voice came deadpan, devoid of anything besides resentment. "An idea."

Kane couldn't bear to look at her. He looked past, at Jim. Jim who had never hurt him, who had assured him over and over again that he was safe here. "I could- if you allow it, I could go over and try to bring Laken back?" he squeaked.

Liz pounded her fist against the wall next to him, making Kane yelp and duck for cover. Jim winced at the sound.

"Are you fucking serious!?" she shouted, her features contorted with fury. "Now? You're using this to try and escape, now of all times? What, so you can go join the party and take a human too?"

He cowered on the floor, breaths coming quick, like he couldn't get enough air. He knew this would be a mistake. "N-no, that's not what I meant! I'm sorry!"

Jim approached slowly, stepping past his sister despite his apparent fear. "Kane, you can get up. It's okay," he said softly, eyes distant.

"It's not okay! Nothing is fucking okay!" Liz screamed. She kicked the desk hard, and both men flinched. She sobbed and kicked it again, shaking.

Jim uncurled his arms from himself. "Kane. Look at me."

Another direct order. Kane looked up.

He had never seen Jim so serious. "Do you really mean it?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up, I really didn't mean anything bad by it, I'll-"

"Did you mean it?" Jim repeated. "You could get them back?"

Kane knew he should be begging for mercy right now. The last thing he should do was double down. But... it was Jim. Jim was safe.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I would need more information." He glanced briefly at Liz, still sobbing brokenly, before looking back to Jim. "I'd need at least a description of who took them. I'm sorry. Please- I was just trying to help." He wrung his hands anxiously. "I care about Laken, too."

Jim stared at him long and hard. "I've really tried to help you, you know that, right? Make life here not suck."

"I know." It was the one constant in Kane's new life. Even when he got scared and panicked, he knew Jim would make it better, help him calm down. "I would do anything to make it up to you. If you let me go- I would try my best to find them, and I'd come back either way. I'd go back down in the basement and you could still keep me here. I don't mind. I like it here. Please, I swear I'll come back." He stood up. "Please let me help."

Liz was paying attention again, but the fury had faded. "What's in it for you?"

"I just want to help." Kane had nothing more than that. He had no way to prove himself. All he had was his word, and given what he'd done, his hopes that they would believe it were slim.

The Liebermans shared a glance.

"I think he really means it," Jim offered.

Kane couldn't believe this was happening. Jim actually believed him.

Liz sighed wearily. "It was two of 'em. They were wearing the same clothes, like a uniform."

"Blood farms," Kane realized. That was good- it would be a lot easier to get them from one of those than someone's house, and there would be a lot fewer places to check. "I mean- a blood processing facility. I can find them. There's only so many of them nearby."

That broke her. For once, Liz looked at him with something other than poorly disguised hatred or the bare minimum of tolerance- she looked hopeful. "Please bring them back to me. I can't lose them," she pleaded.

It was surreal. A hunter had never begged him for anything before.

"I will," he promised. "Jim, could I borrow a suit?"

Kane was ready. Jim only had one suit, and it didn't fit him quite right: Jim was a few inches taller than him, and while Kane had made a lot of progress in the past five months, he still hadn't completely recovered from his years of starvation. But it would have to do. He looked more like his old self than he ever had, now.

He stepped into the front doorframe. He was outside, at night, fully fed and able to run. He'd never thought this would happen again.

"I'll see you soon. With Laken," he promised, determined. He put his hand forward.

Jim nodded. "Alright. You just- yeah." He shook Kane's hand, like they were making a deal, one Kane would be sure to honor. "Stay safe out there."

"I radioed base and let them know what's going on, so you shouldn't run into trouble with any hunters as long as you stay in our district on the way to the border," Liz added. "Straight shot."

The thought that every hunter in a 100-mile radius knew where he was and what he was doing was horrifying, but this meant he had permission. This was safer, he told himself. "Thank you."

And with that, he ran off into the night.

Kane hadn't run like this in years, hadn't even been physically able to until recently. There were no chains binding his ankles, not the hunters' cruel burning ones or Jim's soft padded ones. There was no weight of starvation sucking the muscle out of his body and the energy out of his stride. He ran faster and faster, and he would have laughed gleefully into the cool October air if he weren't so worried about Laken. Even the fact of being free brought fear- Jim wasn't here to protect him if something happened.

Despite his nerves, he crossed into vampire territory without issue. Like it was easy. Like it wasn't something that had been an unattainable fantasy just months ago.

It was only about two hours before he made his way to civilization. He slowed as he got to town, got to people- it was the middle of the night, and the streets were full of vampires, like him. He didn't have to hide. He didn't have to be afraid. He stopped for a few minutes and just watched, mesmerized. He hadn't seen more than Jim, Liz, and Laken since Jim rescued him, hadn't seen another vampire in so long-

"Doesn't that guy look like Kane de Sang?" a woman whispered to her friend, a hand shielding her mouth like that would prevent her from being heard.

"Stop reading tabloids. He's dead," her friend reminded her with a roll of her eyes.

Right. Father was a very public figure, his death must have made the news. He couldn't deal with this right now. He had to find Laken.

Kane hustled away. He almost went into a store to buy a map, before he remembered that he had no money. It was a strange feeling, not having any money, one he'd never experienced before. Technically he hadn't had any money since his capture, but he hadn't been in a position to buy anything either, so it hadn't come up. But now, he really could use some.

His bank accounts would be closed, of course. Not only did he have no money, he had no ID. He felt like one of those older vampires who complained that everything required paperwork these days, like Father.

That was one way he could solve things, he supposed. He could go home to Father. The thought of confronting him with the fact that he'd been held captive by humans all this time was unbelievably unappealing, but he would of course do it if that would help him save Laken. Though, his father would surely put a stop to any plans for him to take a human from the blood farms, no matter what excuse he used, naming it an embarrassment to the family. Nobles were supposed to catch their own prey, demonstrate their superiority.

But those women had mentioned a tabloid. That would mean his face was known, wouldn't it?

Kane ran a hand over his cheek, hardly even sunken anymore.

He was Kane de Sang. He just had to act like it.

It took him a while to find the closest blood farm, the one most likely to have Laken, but he found himself there eventually. He strutted in like he owned the place. Confident and assured, everything he used to be and wasn't anymore.

The blood processing facility was not a customer service establishment, and there was no obvious place to go to find someone to talk to. He approached a man carrying buckets of human food, foul-smelling as always. Cereal, he was able to recognize one as, after months of sitting with Jim as he ate his meals. The other contained some sort of organ meat he couldn't place, aside from the fact that it thankfully didn't smell human. Jim didn't eat meat anymore, said he'd stopped sometime after his escape.

"Excuse me, I need to speak to a manager?" His first words to another vampire in years.

The man eyed him up and down. "Yeah, place is too spread out for you business-types. They really should put some signs up. Follow me."

"Thank you." He definitely wasn't acting like his old self. The old Kane de Sang wasn't polite to commoners. But after years of having politeness drilled into him, it was hard to stop, and he saw no reason to.

The man took him to an office, Kane thanked him again, and it was over. He wanted to take the man's hands and weep, tell him how he was the first vampire he'd spoken to in years upon years, but he couldn't do that. He just watched him walk away to deliver the food to captive humans.

Right. Captive. Everyone in this place was keeping defenseless humans captive. They'd likely taken Laken, and even if they hadn't and Laken was at a different facility, they'd taken so many more.

He knocked on the office door twice before pushing it open. A normal office, an environment Kane was more familiar with.

"Hm?" An older man, clearly a manager, looked up from his desk.

"Ah, yes, I'd been told you're the manager? Kane de Sang," he introduced himself.

The manager raised an eyebrow. "Like the dead noble?"

"Like the living noble," Kane corrected. "I've been living off the grid, as they say."

The manager squinted at him, shock slowly dawning on his face. Perfect: he was recognizable enough to be believed. He wouldn't have to involve Father.

"I see. And what can I do for you, Mr. de Sang?"

"I believe a couple of your employees accidentally snatched up my escaped human." It was a lie that would have been completely unbelievable for anyone else except for him, given his lack of persuasion. "It wouldn't be hard to find mine, one with blue hair, just brought in earlier tonight?" It was possible that Laken could be at a different facility, but this one was so close to where they'd been captured that Kane was almost certain it was this one.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, Mr. de Sang," the manager said. "All of our humans are sourced directly from human territory. If you lost track of your human so much that it was willing to make it back there... well, a human belongs to whoever's taken it over the border."

There was no way a commoner would speak like that to any other noble besides him. The old anger rose up in him, like being back in vampire territory had allowed his old self to come crawling out of where Kane had buried him. He almost went to push away the bubbling rage, but...

He didn't need to anymore. He wasn't in danger. He was in vampire territory, and this man was keeping Laken away from him. Keeping Laken captive, hurt and scared-

Kane slammed his hand on the desk. "You will return my human at once!" he shouted.

He winced at his own outburst, visions of punishments flashing through his mind, eyes wild with fury and terror. Still, he did not stop. "Or I will do everything in my power to ruin you, through means legal or otherwise. I am not leaving without my human."

The manager seemed to mull over the idea before deciding that dealing with Kane was far more irritating than losing one human. He sighed, standing up. "Very well. Follow me."

Kane pulled his hand back, trembling. He should be punished for that. The hunters would have a field day with him if they knew how he'd acted out. Though, he doubted they'd care that he was disrespectful toward a fellow vampire.

"Yes, sir," he said on instinct.

The manager didn't seem to take it as unordinary, nodding and leading him to where the humans were stored. Kane followed along, bewildered it'd been that easy. They passed hundreds and hundreds of humans with dazed eyes and gone minds, packed into livestock pens. He was just glad they were too far-gone from persuasion exposure to feel anything at all.

Past that were closed rooms. Kane could hear someone shouting expletives behind one of the doors, like he had when he'd first been captured, and someone crying behind another, like him in all the years after. But he couldn't do anything about that: he had to focus on Laken.

"We keep the new captures in isolation," the manager explained, briefly peeking through small peepholes in the doors.

Kane remembered how Jim was when he first brought him home, a defiant teenager who hadn't yet learned fear. "That makes sense."

At last, the manager stopped in front of one of the doors, satisfied with what he'd seen through the peephole. "Blue hair, brand-new capture. This one was reported as a hunter, though, so probably not yours. I can-"

Kane practically leapt at the doorknob. "No, this one's mine! This is my human, you must be mistaken! Open the door!"

The manager sighed again, but obliged, unlocking it.

And there they were.

Laken sat huddled in the corner inside, just like Kane had been in his cell, stripped of their hunting tools. They were in bad shape: it was obvious they'd put up a fight before being taken. Their shirt was torn in a huge gash at the side, blood staining the edges, though Kane could smell that they weren't bleeding anymore. They clutched their arm to their chest defensively, like it was hurt, and looked up at him with fear in their eyes.

But he couldn't comfort them yet. "This is my human," he insisted.

"Kane?" Laken asked, voice drenched in fear and betrayal.

It broke his heart to see Laken so terrified. Of him, at that. They either didn't realize what his plan was, or... didn't think him morally capable of coming to their rescue, after everything they must have heard from Jim about what he'd been like in vampire territory.

"Huh. I guess this is your human. Up you get, then." The manager waved them over.

Laken slid up the wall and shuffled over, shaking.

Kane scooped them into his arms, careful to avoid aggravating their injuries. Laken was bigger than him, but far weaker, he realized. He was strong now. He'd been strong for a long time, ever since Jim started feeding him. He just felt so consistently vulnerable that it hadn't really sunk in until now.

Laken didn't resist, the fact of their helplessness equally obvious to them.

"Thank you," Kane told the manager, curt. He turned and hasted toward the exit, relieved it had gone so smoothly.

As soon as they got out, he opened his mouth to start explaining, but Laken beat him to it.

"Kane? Buddy?" Their voice was too strained to sound natural as they peered up at him with nervous eyes. "We're friends, right? Remember when we did your birthday together? Listen, if it's my blood, you can have some! That's fine! I just-"

Kane hugged them close. "I'm here to rescue you," he choked out, trying not to cry. "It's okay. You're safe now."

He felt Laken untense all at once. "Oh, thank fucking god. I totally thought..." They laughed giddily, wiping their tears away with their good arm, but more came anyway. "Dude, you're a lifesaver. Like, literally."

"I'm- I'm trying to be good. I want to be better." Not just well-behaved. Good.

"Well, you're being pretty damn good to me right now." Laken reclined in his arms. "Hey, how fast can you get going? Those assholes who took me were pretty fast, and they didn't even seem like they were trying all that hard. What's, like, the fastest you can get?"

Kane burst into a grin. "You want to find out?"

He could tell it wasn't as fast as he'd ever gone. Kane was still in the process of recovering all the muscle he'd lost during his captivity, and though his speed was still at least forty miles per hour if he had to guess, it wasn't top-level for a vampire. Still, Laken seemed impressed, so he took it as a win.

Liz was waiting on Jim's porch, Jim just inside, talking to her through the window. As soon as he set Laken down, they ran at Liz, but not as fast as she ran at them. They met in the middle with such force that Laken cried out in pain, but neither stopped, wrapping each other in a tight embrace.

"I thought you were gone!" Liz wept. "You were gone, they took you!"

Laken laughed, alight with joy. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

Jim opened the front door, and almost took a step out onto the porch, but hesitated, obviously frightened by the night's events.

Kane scampered up to him. "I came back. Just like I said," he reported, grinning.

"You really did. Huh." Jim stared at him like he'd never seen him before.

"And- and now you know. You know I'd always come back. And if anyone ever tried to take you, I'd bring you back, too. Just like how I saved Laken." Quieter, he added, "Just like how you saved me."

Jim smiled at that, finally finding the courage to step onto the porch. He nudged Kane's shoulder. "Right back at you."

Kane beamed. Jim had promised him he was safe from the hunters over and over, but it felt different this time. Not an attempted comfort during an episode of panic, but mutually-assured protection. There was something to it that felt stronger, more real. A bond.

"I'm gonna take Laken to the hospital!" Liz called back. "And hey, Kane? Thank you."

A thank-you from Liz was almost as precious as the fact that she was trusting him unrestrained, alone with Jim, at night. She still wore her hunting gear, but she felt less scary for once.

He nodded back at her. "Any time."

"See you guys!" Laken gave them finger-guns, punctuated with an "Ow," when they moved their injured arm wrong.

Liz laughed and helped them into her truck, leaving him alone with Jim.

"I'll go back in the basement," Kane promised. "Just like before. Nothing has to change."

Jim blinked with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Kane, I'm not gonna keep you locked up anymore. I'm not saying I'd never be scared around you again, but... you're not a prisoner anymore."

Kane should feel happy about that, shouldn't he? That's what he'd wanted for so long, trapped in his cell back with the hunters.

Why did it make his stomach turn with dread?

"Um, I don't-"

"I mean, there's not enough time left before sunrise for you to get home tonight, especially if you wanna pack first. But you're not trapped in my basement anymore. You're free to go, man. You can head back home tomorrow night if you want."

Kane shuffled his feet awkwardly. "What if I... don't want?"

"Don't... want? You don't want to be free?" Jim asked, baffled.

Tears sprung to Kane's eyes. This was his home, the only home he'd known in years. "I don't want to leave," he whispered.

Jim exhaled a long breath, the smile dropping from his face. He was silent for a moment before taking Kane's hand. "Okay."

"Okay?" he sniffled, fingers curling around Jim's.

"Okay, you can stay. Long as you keep your promise and protect me. Plus you gotta get your own blood now. And I guess-" Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess we can figure it out as we go."

"I can still wear the chains," Kane offered. "So you feel safe."

"Man, fuck the chains." Jim led him inside, kicking the door closed behind him.

Kane went back down to his basement, tucking himself into bed. As the sun crested over the horizon, he fell asleep behind an unlocked, open door.

thank you all for coming with me on 50+ chapters of this journey so far :) i hope you guys like present arc part 2 just as much as you liked part 1! we've got some fun stuff coming up! i know a lot of you have been asking after two things in particular, a kane/bellamy reunion and kane reading jim's book. both of those will be in present arc part 2! as well as a bunch of other fun stuff :)

tune in on saturday for some non-K&J vampire shenanigans, and more K&J (jim recovery arc) on the following tuesday. present arc part 2 will start in august.

taglist in reblog, as usual.

event: @whumpmasinjuly

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 10 months

Text

Note: I've decided to tell this in a partial epistolary manner. Some scenes will be told through letters and such. Others through plain old story telling in my usual style. I've never done this before, but the prompt really took ahold of my imagination.

TW: referenced cult, parasites, hunger, fear of death, human whumpee, vampire caretaker

Dear Rahab,

Well, I've finally done it. I'm sure you'll be very relieved that I found a place to stay, given that Rosemonda or one of her loyal servants doesn't find this letter. I hope you burn it as soon as you're done reading. I know you aren't allowed to have a phone, and I still haven't gotten one, so the letters will have to work for right now.

Before you read this next part, I want you to remember that I love you dearly. Horrible start, I know. But I'm your little brother. Do you really expect anything better from me after all these years?

The man who's letting me live with him is a vampire. That's the kicker. I know you must be horrified, but it's a decent enough arrangement. His name is Ishtar. A funny name, isn't it? Belongs to a woman. I asked him about that. He acted all prickly and told me in no uncertain terms to shut my trap.

But that's all besides the point. Ishtar found me stumbling through the woods. Can't you picture it, Rae? Your dear brother, half dead, covered in leeches and ticks from marching through a swamp, chilled to the bone, I could go on. Then this vampire finds me. I start saying my prayers, because G-d knows I haven't lived a good life. I don't know much about the world to come, and too much about the damnation Rosemonda preached. I really thought I was going to die.

Then he starts yapping about how I'm trespassing. "Are you blind? There are clearly keep-out signs." I missed the signs, obviously. He wasn't really angry, just ticked off. Then he saw the sorry state I was in, and carried me back to his house. Yeah, he carried me, a bridal carry to be specific. You would have laughed if you had seen us. We looked like the cover of a trash romance novel, but I was too filthy to be any sort of princess.

His house is quaint. I like that word. Quaint. It sounds nice. Anyhow, no electricity. It's not like a nocturnal vampire needs light bulbs. I've had time to look around since half-way recovering, and he has a lovely garden. Oh Rae, you'll hate this part of my oh so lovely story. But I promise nothing happened. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.

Ishtar stripped me down and tossed my half conscious ass in a bath, without saying much of anything. Wrinkled his nose a lot, and I don't blame him. I can't recall exactly what I was thinking, just that I was too tired to be scared anymore. I do remember him picking off the leeches and ticks though, mostly cause he kept looking at me like he was daring me to crack an offensive joke. I sure as hell didn't.

He got me outta the bath and gave me some water. Surprisingly, he had food. That is to say, he left me in the kitchen and came back two hours later with a basket of plums and a freshly butchered duck. I made quick work of as many plums as I could fit in my mouth without choking while he cooked the duck. I think he used tumeric or something, it tasted weird but I was too starving to care after not eating for two days.

I think I must have fallen asleep. It's all so effing hazy. But I woke up in this grand bed. Nicest thing I've ever slept in. I don't know why exactly a vampire has a bed when they sleep in coffins. Or is it caskets? I don't really know the difference. Anyhow, he was just sitting there staring at me all creepy like.

Vampire eyes aren't exactly red, you know? They're reflective like a cat, all the way down to having those thin pupils. Red, orange, green, they just keep shifting when the candlelight hits at different angles. Not exactly something you want to wake up to staring at you in a darkened room.

He broke the creepy ass silence to ask me why the hell I was on his property. I told him the truth, figuring there was no way in hell a vampire was in cahoots with Rosemonda. She hates them, as you know full well. He was oddly impressed. Muttered something about heroism. I don't feel like a fucking hero. Oh, he liked my name. Kept repeating it under his breath. Real weird fellow.

Anyway, I'm a bit embarrassed to admit I begged him not to turn me away. I may have cried. Just a little. He just looked me over, silent for a few minutes, and offered me a deal. Remember what I said about how much I love you? Good. The deal went like this. He'd let me live with him and he wouldn't breathe a word if our darling cult came to call. In exchange I'd give him a healthy amount of my blood. Once the anemia from the leeches goes away, obviously.

I know, I know. I'm being stupid and reckless. My body is going to end up fertilizing his garden. Mother would be so disappointed in me. I've heard all of that from you before. Well, besides the second to last one. But close enough. I'm fine though. Still not over the anemia, so he hasn't tried to drink me. You know how low my pain tolerance is, so I hope I don't act like a coward next time he gets peckish.

He doesn't talk to me much, you know? Just lets me wander around his house and pick fruit from his garden to eat. I haven't admitted that I know nothing about butchering yet, despite the meat cravings. I don't see how you went vegetarian. I would kill for some bacon.

Sorry, I know I shouldn't be joking so much. But I'm not sure what to say. A lot has happened, but I'm safer than I've been in years. I have food in my stomach and don't have to listen to sermons to get it. If you want me to rescue you at any time, just say the word. I'll whisk you here when you're out proselytizing. I doubt Ishtar will mind. I mean, you're my sister.

I'll cut this letter short. I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here. I hope you're doing enough proselytizing for Rosemonda to give you good meals and a blanket to sleep in. I know I'm repeating myself, but I need to say it one more time. Just in case. I love you.

Sincerely yours, Mordecai

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @devourerofcheesecake @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whumpshaped @heavenly-whumper

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Whump #Human whumpee #Vampire caretaker #Expository whump #Modern whump #Cult whump

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mj-iza-writer · 5 months

Text

"Whumpee please don't go that far away from me", Caretaker requested, "I can't go into the sunlight like you can."

"I'm sorry Caretaker", Whumpee jumped around in the new puddles a recent storm created.

"Thankyou", Caretaker watched them get closer, they adjusted their umbrella.

"Caretaker?", Whumpee stopped suddenly.

"Yes Whumpee", they smiled.

"How come you come outside with me even when you could get hurt?", Whumpee jumped closer, "and why can I be in the sun, but you can't."

"I come out to make sure you are safe, and have company", Caretaker sighed, "as for the sunlight, no one really remembers why we can't come out into the sun. We just know we get severally burnt from it."

"I get burnt from the sun to" Whumpee showed their arms.

"Yes, you're right. My burns are a little different though", Caretaker smiled, "humans have to have sunlight, it helps your body. That's why I rushed you out here after the storm, it's been a week since we've had sunlight here."

"Caretaker, if you're not human, what are you?", Whumpee stopped in front of Caretaker now, almost splashing them.

Whumpee gave a terrified look, "I-I'm sorry."

"No harm done, Whumpee", Caretaker smiled, "for right now, just know me as your Caretaker, I'm sure you will find out soon enough on what I am."

Whumpee looked down and nodded.

"You seem sadened by my answer. Do you not trust me?", Caretaker looked at Whumpee sadly.

"I'm sorry, it's just....", Whumpee thought for a second while staring at the ground, "secrets are hard Caretaker, I don't like them."

"I understand. For this one secret though, I need you to trust me. I will tell you as soon as I feel you're ready. We are still new to each other after all", Caretaker sighed, "I must ensure that I am safe with you, as I have to show you your safe with me."

Whumpee looked up at Caretaker sadly, "are you a vampire?"

Caretaker felt their heart sink, "no, what a thing to suggest", Caretaker tried to remain calm.

Whumpee looked at them for a second, then went back to splashing in the puddles. Out of the corner of their eye, they watched Caretaker breathe a sigh of relief.

Later, when the sun was down, Caretaker tucked Whumpee into bed.

"Remember stay in your room until I come get you in the morning, the castle can be a little scary at night", Caretaker smiled as they patted Whumpee's head.

Whumpee nodded, "okay, goodnight Caretaker."

"Goodnight Whumpee", Caretaker started to leave.

"Um Caretaker?", Whumpee sat up.

"Yes Whumpee", Caretaker turned and walked back to the bed.

"I'm sorry if I made you sad today", Whumpee said shyly, "I shouldn't have asked if you were a vampire."

"Whumpee, you didn't make me sad. You asked a question you were curious about", Caretaker gently brushed some loose hair from Whumpee's face, "I just don't know where that came from."

"Whumper was a vampire", Whumpee sighed as Caretaker helped them to lay down, "they never drank from me, but I was forced to watch while they drained all of the blood of their victims."

"Oh", Caretaker said sadly, "I-I'm sure that was scary to watch."

"Yes it was", Whumpee frowned as they thought back to those days.

Caretaker also thought back to the night they raided Whumper's mansion, then rescued Whumpee.

"Well their is no reason to worry about vampires any longer. Vampires will never hurt you", Caretaker smiled, "I promise."

Caretaker left the room. Once the door was locked, they recited a protection over the room and Whumpee to keep Caretaker and any vampires out.

Caretaker went to their chambers to hide until dawn. Their blood lust had become increasingly worse, but they couldn't bring themself to hurt a human, and animal blood was starting to not help.

Caretaker sighed as they tried to sit and ignore the stabbing pains in their stomach.

"You can handle this Caretaker. Once morning comes, the pain will subside", Caretaker sighed.

"Why fight it, you've got a nice human upstairs", a voice mocked from a shadow in the room.

"Whumper", Caretaker jumped up.

Whumper walked out of the shadows with a grin, "you have something of mine, I want them back."

"Not going to happen", Caretaker bared their fangs, "they are safe from you."

"Don't bother. I know you're weak. I injured you when you raided my mansion, and I know without blood, your healing has been a very slow process", Whumper bared his fangs, "you don't stand a chance", Whumper jumped toward Caretaker and they started to fight.

Whumpee jumped when they heard a crash.

They ran to the door and remembered what Caretaker said, they held the door knob for a second. Another crash, and they found themselves opening the door.

This caused the room protection to be broken. Whumpee was the only one who could do that, they just had to open the door. The second protection over them could be removed by anyone as long as they knew the magic to do it.

Whumpee followed the sounds of struggle until they peaked into Caretaker's chamber.

Both Whumper and Caretaker instantly looked at Whumpee.

Whumper laughed as they threw Caretaker and ran toward Whumpee.

"No", Whumpee cried.

Whumper grabbed at Whumpee but pulled away in pain.

"So you have an enchantment on you, by Caretaker no doubt", Whumper turned to Caretaker, who was struggling to get back up, "if I kill you, it should remove that pesky protection."

"Run Whumpee don't look back", Caretaker yelled as they huffed to get up again.

Whumpee sobbed, "but you..."

"Don't worry about me", Caretaker groaned as Whumper attacked mercilessly, "just go, I'll hold them off as long as I can."

Whumpee cried as they watched Caretaker being attacked.

"Your weak", Whumper laughed as they continued to attack.

"Please", Whumpee yelled, "don't hurt them."

"Whumpee, I want you. They only stand in my way of that', Whumper stopped for a second, "once they die, it will be much easier for me."

Caretaker was thrown against the wall. Whumpee glanced over at a suit of armor, which held a spear.

Whumper stood over Caretaker. They were locked eyes. Whumper didn't pay any attention to the fact Whumpee was behind them until the spear was stabbed through them.

"Why you little", Whumper turned slowly with a wince, and they stumbled and fell to their knees, "you missed my heart, wait until I get my hands on you, you'll pay for that."

Whumpee quickly knelt beside Caretaker.

"You need to drink from me, that's not going to stop them for long", Whumpee pleaded watching Whumper work to remove the spear.

"I can't. I swore I'd never drink from you, no matter what. Vampires will never hurt you again remember", Caretaker groaned as they tried to stand again. They fell forward weakly.

"Please, they're coming", Whumpee cried.

"Desino (cease, stop)", Caretaker pointed at Whumper.

Whumper paused moving as though frozen in place.

"Whumpee listen to me, I want you to run. Get out and run, don't worry about me", Caretaker fell to their knees.

Whumpee whimpered and held Caretaker's face, tears streamed down their face.

"That spell won't last much longer", Caretaker groaned, "go."

"Caretaker you were the first person in my life to show kindness to me, please don't make me leave you to die when I know my blood will help you", Whumpee sobbed, "I'm scared if you get killed. I'm scared they'll find me again. I'm so scared. I don't want to lose you."

Caretaker looked deep into their eyes finally understanding. Caretaker nodded.

"Are you sure, Whumpee?", Caretaker finally sighed, realizing the spell on Whumper wasn't holding.

"Yes please, I don't want to be scared anymore. I don't want to be alone anymore", Whumpee knelt and showed their neck to Caretaker, "drink from me."

"Dimittis (release)", Caretaker waved their hand over Whumpee to remove their protection, then leaned in for the bite.

"No", Whumper cried out, still partially frozen.

Whumpee winced as the teeth went through, "I'm okay", they whispered.

Caretaker drank as they watched their spell weaken on Whumper.

"I can still destroy you", Whumper yelled as they yanked the rest of the spear out.

Caretaker smiled as they looked up at Whumper.

"Thankyou Whumpee", they stood, and gently leaned Whumpee against the wall, "that's all I need for now."

Whumpee slid weakly against the wall until they were lying against it. They hadn't realized how much blood was going to be drained and how that was going to feel.

Caretaker felt their power being restored as they were able to stand now.

You shouldn't have come here", Caretaker frowned, "Et non morieris (you will die)".

Whumpee's head felt heavy. They went in and out of consciousness. The last thing they saw was Caretaker delivering a deathly blow.

Caretaker grinned as Whumper fell to the ground, eternally silenced now.

Caretaker sighed, "and stay down", they stumbled sideways before catching themself.

"Oh Whumpee", Caretaker gently stroked Whumpee's face, "so brave, I am indebted to you."

Whumpee fluttered their eyes open, then jolted up in their bed.

"What happened?", they grabbed their neck, which had been bandaged, "oh right."

A small noise caught their attention. They were scared to look, not sure if their blood was enough to help Caretaker.

"I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up", a familiar voice called from where the noise was.

"Caretaker" Whumpee turned quickly, "ouch", they grabbed their neck.

"Oops yep, that will be a bit sore for a while", Caretaker came and sat on the edge of Whumpee's bed, "that was very brave of you, even in a scary situation you were able to help me."

"I didn't want you to leave me", Whumpee looked down, "isn't that selfish Caretaker?"

"No, not when it comes from so deep in your heart. You didn't want to be alone. You didn't want to lose someone important to you. You were afraid", Caretaker smiled, "you are not selfish at all my dear."

"So what happened to Whumper?", Whumpee looked up.

"Thanks to you I was able to finish him, he's gone forever."

"What language were you speaking, and, and, and I have so many questions", Whumpee's eyes grew wide in excitement.

"I was speaking in Latin", Caretaker smiled, "we have plenty of time for questions. For right now how about some dinner, then you need to rest. I took more blood then you were ready to lose, I'm sure."

Whumpee nodded, "but that's okay, and if you ever need anymore, don't be afraid to ask me. I don't want you to feel sick, and I know you need it."

"Thankyou Whumpee, I'll keep that in mind."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #caretaking #oc #vampire whumper #vampire story #vampire whump #vampire caretaker #monster

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a-crumb-of-whump · 1 year

Text

i made. a vampire whump bingo (hence all the vampire related prompts lol)

some of these are extremely vague so please use whatever interpretation that comes to mind if you do decide to use it!

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump thoughts #whump tropes #whump prompts #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #vampire caretaker #vampire whump

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 2 years

Text

Vampire Caretaker

Whumpee cowered further back against the alley wall as the creature advanced.

“D-don’t come any closer!” Whumpee squeaked out.

“Calm down, love,” the vampire said soothingly, “I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Caretaker, and I’m here to help you.”

Whumpee curled in on themselves as Caretaker crouched down to their level. They reached out a slender, pale hand and felt Whumpee’s forehead.

“Hmm, a fever,” Caretaker said to themselves, “that poison is kicking in quicker than usual.”

“G-go away!” Whumpee cried.

“I can’t do that, love, I need to get that poison out of your bloodstream first.”

Whumpee saw through blurry vision as Caretaker reached over and tilted their head. They tried to push Caretaker away, but between Caretaker’s superhuman strength and Whumpee’s poison-fueled weakness, Caretaker was barely moved. Whumpee gasped as Caretaker sank their fangs into their neck. Caretaker sucked the poisoned blood out of their system, all the while Whumpee grew more lightheaded. When all the poison was drained, Caretaker lifted Whumpee into a bridal carry.

“Don’t worry, little one,” Caretaker said, “I’m going to take care of you.”

Whumpee felt too dazed to fight back. They let themselves be carried out of the alley and toward a large castle in the distance. Whumpee’s vision faded as exhaustion took its toll. Whumpee fell asleep cradled in Caretaker’s arms.

Part 2

#yes it's short I'm sorry #human whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #vampire caretaker #immortal caretaker #whump #hurt/comfort #let me know if y'all want a continuation #writing #writeblr #creative writing #whump snippet #hurt/comfort snippet #poison #poisoned whumpee #fever

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crowzwhump · 7 months

Note

Vampire caretaker? And human whumpee, they’ve known eachother for a while but whumpee doesn’t know caretaker is a vampire and caretaker doesn’t know about the heap load of trauma ( possibly from early childhood abuse? Trust issues, ptsd ) untill whumpees parents come to visit while caretaker is over and they see how they treat whumpee

Whumpee ends up getting beat up ( however you want ) once caretaker finds them, they end up biting them ( no turning them, just giving a bit of venom )

Headcannon of mine on vampires Is that they have venom but instead of turning whoever they give it to, it’s like a drug, making that person go limp ( or just make their limbs really heavy ) and makes there heads feel fuzzy and ‘stuffed with cotton’

Whumpee would be 19 to early 20s?

Hi Lizzy!

I apologize for taking so long to get to this, I absolutely loveit though! And could not help but throw something together for it? It just gave me so much inspiration I had to figure out exactly how I wanted to do this, but I do hope you enjoy it. ^ - ^ゞ

Heavy Tw: Parental Whump | Mother Whumping Adult Child

Tw: Vampire Whump | Vampire Caretaker | Degration | Drugging | Female Whumper (Mother)

In a small, cozy cottage nestled deep within a secluded forest, Whumpee lived a life that felt like a sanctuary.

They had been through more hardships in their young lives than most could imagine, but their world had recently become a little brighter, thanks to the kind and caring stranger who had taken them in.

Unbeknownst to Whumpee, their mysterious caretaker was far from ordinary; they were a vampire who had watched over them since the night they had saved Whumpee from a violent attack.

The caretaker had kept their true nature hidden from Whumpee, never letting them see the fangs or the crimson eyes that betrayed their undead existence.

The caretaker wanted nothing more than to protect them and give them a chance at a peaceful life, and they knew that revealing the truth about themselves would only bring chaos and fear.

One chilly evening, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cottage, a sudden knock at the door sent a shiver down Whumpee's spine.

They weren't expecting any visitors, and their heart raced as they exchanged a nervous glance with Caretaker.

"I'll handle this," Caretaker assured them, forcing a reassuring smile as they strode to the door.

Opening it, Caretaker was met by the stern faces of Whumpee's parents.

Their arrival was unexpected, and it filled Caretaker with unease.

They had heard vague stories of Whumpee's past with their parents, but they had never gone into any great details about them.

"Caretaker, is it?" Whumpee's father inquired, his tone icy.

"Yes," Caretaker replied, his heart pounding as he tried to maintain composure.

Whumpee's mother, a woman of piercing judgment and strict principles, stepped inside without invitation.

"We came to see our child," she stated, her gaze fixated on Caretaker with a critical eye.

Whumpee stood frozen in the corner, their anxiety mounting.

They hadn't seen their parents in years, and the memories of their harsh treatment and punishments still haunted them.

Caretaker led the way, guiding the unwelcome guests to a sitting area.

The atmosphere grew tense as they settled in, with Whumpee's father eyeing Caretaker with suspicion.

"We're concerned about Whumpee," Whumpee's father began, his voice cold and unwavering. "We want to make sure they're on the right path."

Caretaker forced themselves to appear nonchalant, though every instinct screamed for them to protect Whumpee from their parents' judgment.

"They've been doing well," Caretaker replied, choosing their words carefully. "They've found some peace here."

Whumpee's mother took matters into her own hands, rising from her seat. "Come, Whumpee, let's have a private conversation."

Whumpee reluctantly followed her mother to another room, leaving Caretaker alone with their father, who continued to regard him with suspicion.

As the two were left alone in the dimly lit room, Caretaker couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

The tension was thick, and Whumpee's father's gaze bore into him with increasing intensity.

"Caretaker, is it?" Whumpee's father asked once more, his tone even colder than before. "You seem rather unconventional."

Caretaker gave a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep his composure. "I suppose I am. Whumpee's been through a lot, and I just wanted to help."

Whumpee's father's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, his voice a low whisper. "You may not be aware of this, but our child has a history. A troublesome one. They've caused us a great deal of pain."

Caretaker, unaware of Whumpee's tumultuous past with their parents, could only offer a falsely sympathetic nod. "I see. Well, people can change. Whumpee deserves a fresh start."

The conversation grew increasingly tense as Whumpee's father probed Caretaker with questions, and Caretaker did his best to deflect them while maintaining his facade of calm.

In the other room, Whumpee's mother confronted their child with harsh words and a cold demeanor, reopening old wounds that had never truly healed.

The air grew heavy with tension as Whumpee's mother unleashed a torrent of belittlement and cruel insults, targeting every insecurity and vulnerability she knew her child possessed.

"You always were a disappointment," she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "No matter how hard we tried to correct your flaws, you remained a failure."

Whumpee, feeling the weight of her words, remained silent, determined not to give her mother the satisfaction of seeing their tears.

They had endured years of emotional abuse at her hands, and they had learned to build walls around their heart to protect themselves.

But Whumpee's mother was relentless.

Her anger escalated, and she stepped closer to Whumpee, her face contorted with rage.

Without warning, she lashed out, striking her child across the face with a sharp slap.

Whumpee's head snapped to the side from the force of the blow, and they tasted blood where their lip had split from the impact.

Still, they remained silent, refusing to give her the reaction she craved.

They knew that engaging in a fight would only make things worse, and they had grown skilled at enduring her cruelty in silence.

Undeterred, Whumpee's mother continued her physical assault, raining down blows on her child's already battered body.

With each strike, Whumpee's resolve to remain stoic only grew stronger.

They clenched their fists, determined not to let her see their pain.

After the torment had ceased, Whumpee's mother finally seemed to exhaust herself with her rage.

She stepped back, panting heavily, her eyes filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

"Perhaps now you'll learn your place," she spat, turning and leaving the room, leaving Whumpee battered and bruised but unbowed.

Whumpee remained on the floor, trembling in pain, their body aching from the physical assault.

They took shallow breaths, trying to regain some semblance of composure, as they heard their parents' voices in the living room.

"We're leaving," Whumpee's mother announced coldly, her tone still tinged with anger. "This place is a lost cause, just like our child."

As the front door closed with a resounding thud, Caretaker waited for the sound to fade before quickly rushing to check on Whumpee.

Their heart ached at the sight of their friend lying battered and bruised on the floor.

Kneeling down beside Whumpee, Caretaker's eyes were filled with worry and regret.

They gently cradled Whumpee's trembling form, apologizing softly to them.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through this," they whispered, their voice filled with sorrow.

Feeling Whumpee's pain and vulnerability, Caretaker made a difficult decision.

With great care and tenderness, they lowered their head to Whumpee's neck and bit softly, injecting their vampire venom. The effect was almost immediate.

Whumpee's body relaxed as the venom coursed through their veins, spreading a warm, euphoric sensation that eased their pain.

The tension in their muscles melted away, and their mind became fuzzy but serene.

Caretaker held Whumpee close, cuddling them gently, and whispered soothing words until the pain and trauma of the evening faded into a distant memory.

Slowly, Whumpee's eyes grew heavy, and they drifted into a peaceful, healing sleep, safe in the arms of the vampire who had become their protector and solace in a world filled with cruelty.

Thank you again for taking the time out of your day to read, I wish you a wonderful day and send many Fuzzy blankies, cookies, and snacks to you all! I appreciate you for reading!

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whumpshaped · 5 months

Note

either write a vampire caretaker thralling whumpee temporarily to go to sleep or go to sleep

well i cant sleep so that leaves me w little choice

tw nightmares, dubcon hypnosis, forced treatment for insomnia <3

“No, no, please, you don’t– don’t understand–”

“Shh, sweetheart. I do. It’s okay.” Caretaker was gently petting Whumpee’s head in their lap, scratching their scalp in a way that made their eyes flutter.

“I don’t want… another nightmare…”

“I know, baby. I know.” They watched with a sad little smile as their friend slowly relaxed, knowing well that these were the only times when they could unwind. They doubted Whumpee would get much sleep while they were away on that trip next week.

No need to stress about the future for now, they supposed. For now, they could give Whumpee all the rest they needed and more.

“You’re doing so well,” they whispered as Whumpee’s breathing evened out. “So good for me. The sleepiest little thing. So peaceful.”

Whumpee inhaled deeply, letting out a pleased mmmmm at being praised so generously. They jolted for a moment, only to settle down once Caretaker shushed them.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, precious. Not while I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #vampire caretaker #recovery fic #comfort #hypnosis #nightmares

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whumperofworlds · 6 months

Text

ATTENTION ALL WHUMPERS WHO HAVE VAMPIRE OCS

Tell me everything about what vampires are like, how they function, etc in your worlds! I want to learn more about vampires, since I'm planning on writing my own vampire OCs!

Doesn't matter if they're a Whumpee, Caretaker, Whumper, etc. I'd love to learn how your vampires work, and maybe even learn more about vampires overall!

#whump #whump community #vampires #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #vampire caretaker #vampire ocs

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oddsconvert · 9 months

Text

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... 🤫

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whumpsday · 10 months

Text

Kane & Jim #E2: Stay With Me

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: recovery, comfort, nightmares, whumper turned whumpee turned caretaker, whumpee turned caretaker turned whumpee, vampire caretaker

Whumpmas in July Day 9: "Stay with me"

this is a flash-forward taking place about two years out from the present arc! made as a sort of follow-up to A Nice Thought.

be warned that this piece has... ⚠️spoilers⚠️ for the present arc! it's nothing i haven't hinted at before in ask-answers though, and this series is non-chronological anyway.

Kane was up and running the second he heard the scream.

He flung the basement door open, dashing up the stairs as fast as he could without breaking them. Up, up, down the hall, another door-

No one else was there. Jim was just lying in his bed, trying to catch his breath, the room dimly illuminated by the plain night light he always kept on.

Just a nightmare.

"Are you alright?" Kane asked, stepping back into the doorway. He knew how Jim was with nightmares by now, that his presence wouldn't be welcomed. "I was just- I can go."

Jim looked up at him with tired, scared eyes. "Stay with me? Please?" he asked, his voice small.

Kane was surprised, but he didn't need to be told twice. He was by Jim's side in an instant, the bed creaking slightly as he sat down on the soft blanket next to him. "Of course. Whatever you need."

"Thanks, man." Jim stared up at the ceiling, eyes wet with tears as he tried to control his shaky breathing.

"You don't usually scream," Kane noted, concerned.

Jim gave him a weak laugh and a nudge on the arm. "Guess I'm turning into you, huh?"

Kane rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile a bit, too. At least Jim felt well enough to joke around. "I don't even do that as much anymore." It'd happened about once a month when Jim first took him home, but by now, it was down to two or three months between. He'd almost never heard Jim do it, maybe twice in nearly three years here. Not counting back in vampire territory, of course.

"Yeah, you do." Jim scooted closer, resting his head on Kane's hand.

"Do you want me to hold you?" Kane blurted out. He regretted it as soon as he said it. How stupid, Jim was a grown man, he didn't need-

Jim didn't even hesitate. "Yeah."

Well, if he was agreeing...

Kane scooped the man into his arms, leaning back against the headboard. Jim rested his head against Kane's chest, tears leaking into his shirt. He must be so scared...

"I won't hurt you. Never again," Kane reminded him.

"Wasn't you this time," Jim mumbled. "It was your brother."

Ah. "Well, he certainly can't hurt you."

"I know. My dumbass sleeping-brain's the one that doesn't." Jim tapped the side of his head and sighed. "You know, it's stupid, but I actually used to- ah, forget it."

Kane pushed down the urge to question him. This was about making Jim comfortable, no matter how curious he was. "Alright," he agreed.

But Jim had never been one for holding his tongue, and continued without encouragement. "Back then, back at your old place, after- like during the last two years especially? I used to fantasize that you'd hold me. Like if I asked on my birthday or something. You were nice on my birthdays. I just wanted someone to, and you were the only one there." He turned his face away, embarrassed by his own admission.

Kane would never stop regretting how he'd treated Jim, but this was a particular knife between the ribs, hot and silver and twisting. He clutched Jim a little closer. "I'm sorry. I'm glad I can hold you now," he whispered.

Jim turned back to look at him. "Would you have said yes?"

He didn't answer for a bit. He had to think about it, had to give Jim the real answer, not whatever he assumed Jim wanted to hear. He'd been getting better at that. So much had changed, it was hard to put himself in his past self's shoes, the man who would hurt Jim without a second thought.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe. Depending on my mood, I could have gone either way. I can tell you this for certain, though: even if I'd said no, I would have wanted to, for the same reason as you."

That earned him a small smile. "Yeah, that tracks."

"I can stay here the whole night, if you want," Kane offered. He glanced at the window: the blinds were already closed. He was okay. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I've been just as bad."

Jim was well-aware. He'd stayed with Kane some nights, too.

"Yeah, okay."

They laid silently like that for a while, the crickets softly chirping in the night. Jim worried about inconveniencing Kane- there was still a layer of fear to it, even after all this time, even after he was the one who asked Kane to stay. Like he would be judged as badly-behaved and requiring discipline.

But Kane didn't do anything. It was just nice.

"It's kind of pathetic," Jim muttered. "He barely even got me, you know? C or Chewie or Graham or whatever the hell he's calling himself now was with him for eight years. I shouldn't be having the stupid nightmares and needing to be held when I'm a goddamn thirty-six year old man and he barely even got me."

"He's back to C again right now, I think, but he told me he's thinking about trying Graham again last time we spoke. I think he might really stick with it next time," Kane mused.

"Good for him." Jim always just asked him what his name was that month whenever he said hi to the guy so he wouldn't get it wrong.

"You know, I think of thirty-six as rather young," Kane continued. "Most humans probably would-"

Jim laughed. "Yeah, 'cause you're old as shit, grandpa."

Kane sighed, his chest rising and falling deeply under Jim's head. "Yes, I'm up there, so you can't go saying you're too old to be getting frightened when I do the same thing at one-hundred and eighteen. As I said, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides... I don't think I helped things, as far as your reaction went. You already had nightmares, the face just changed."

"Well, you're helping things now."

Kane didn't have a rebuttal to that one. "You should try and get some sleep. I won't let anything happen to you."

He was safe. He was safe. Jim just had to remember that. Couldn't get much safer than with a vampire protecting him. "Okay. Thanks."

"Any time." Kane began softly humming a tune, a song Jim didn't recognize, but one that soothed him anyway.

He slept peacefully through the rest of the night.

stay tuned, the big one's coming wednesday.

taglist in reblog!

event: @whumpmasinjuly

#kane and jim #whumpmasinjuly2023 #wij23day9 #whump #vampire caretaker #recovery whump #comfort #nightmares #whumper turned caretaker #whumpee turned caretaker #caretaker turned whumpee #my writing #whump writing

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avvail-whumps · 1 year

Text

contagious thoughts

content warnings: fantasy whump, vampire whump, non-human whumper, human whumpee, non-human (ish) caretaker, blood, vampire bites, blood drinking, forced turning, intimate whumper, non-con touching (not sexual), mind control, kidnapping, implied future pet whump, implied future conditioning

–

Whumpee almost let out a horrifying screech.

“Caretaker!”

They darted towards the door just as the caretaker crumbled to their knees, their body covered in fresh blood and their eyes woozy. Whumpee frantically mumbled pleas under their breath as they tried to lower them onto the ground, feeling the blood stick to their own skin.

“Oh, god. Caretaker, what’s going on?” They cried, their wide eyes flickering across the various injuries on their body. The one that worried them the most, was the one inflicted on their neck. Two large gashes were deep in their flesh, no doubt an attack from a vampire that was meant to kill.

Whumpee’s heart pounds at the thought. Had the vampires breached the walls?

They scrambled to yank a white cloth from the table, pressing it securely against their wound. Caretaker groaned brokenly in pain, their face scrunching up. The whumpee flinches, a horrible chill running down their spine.

“Please, j-just...hang in there, okay? Let me find something to help.”

Whumpee’s breathing was frantic as they went to stand up, but a hand on their arm quickly stopped their attempts. Caretaker was fighting the urge to slip into unconsciousness, blood bubbling past their lips.

“No,” they choked, voice exhausted. “G-Get...out of here, please.”

Whumpee whipped around when they heard screams and loud crashes from outside. The streets filled with blood with each passing second. They turned back with a firm shake of their head, keeping the cloth against their wound.

“I’m not leaving you,” they whispered softly. “Not for a second. We...have to get out together.”

Caretaker looked dangerously pale. Their eyes were getting heavier by the second. “They’re...coming. Whumpee, please. Please, l-leave before they find you.”

Whumpee sniffled. Tears were burning their eyes, threatening to spill down their cheeks. They wanted to run. They wanted to find a way out of here safely before the entire town was infested with vampires, but they couldn’t.

Not without Caretaker. They couldn’t do this without them.

“We’ll both leave,” Whumpee stated, trying to keep their voice firm. It was difficult to keep their composure when the windows were rattling and it felt like monsters were trying to break in. “Whoever’s coming, and whatever vampires they bring, we can leave before they find us. Caretaker, please...”

Caretaker’s eyes flickered past their shoulder, but the panic couldn’t reach their eyes. Their body was too weak to warn them.

“W-Whumpee...” They begged, but it came out as nothing but a breathless groan. The whumpee swallowed nervously.

“Y-Yes?”

Caretaker wanted to scream. They wanted to grab them by the shoulders and hurl them through the door to safety. But the venom infecting their body was too potent. They felt trapped.

“B...” Their breath caught. “Be...hi...”

The whumpee tried to hold back their tears. They shifted on their knees, adjusting the position of the cloth to make sure they wouldn’t lose anymore blood, their hands trembling with uncertainty. They didn’t know what they were trying to say, but no doubt they were trying to get them to leave before vampires flooded in.

Whumpee cursed quietly under their breath as Caretaker gripped their arm as tightly as they could. “We’ll leave. I-I’ll get you to a hospital on the outskirts, Caretaker, you’re going to be...”

That’s when they felt it.

It was like a cold presence had entered the room, a bitter air brushing against their limbs and seizing their muscles. Their heart jumped as a terrible, unknowing dread pooled into them. It was like a thousand eyes had pinned against them all at once, surrounding their body, keeping them shuddering and overwhelmed. Something soft brushed across their shoulders, a silky material draping around their body, as well as a large, cold hand weighing against their neck, making them freeze.

“Why don’t you stay a bit?”

Whumpee’s muscles locked. Something was prodding against their mind, seizing control of their body. They wanted to rip away, and escape from the intrusive, icey presence that had wrapped around them, but it was constricting them from every direction, making it impossible to move.

They could see Caretaker trying to sit up, but they were far too weak. Whumpee’s hand slipped from the cloth as they were drawn back into a chest by the hand on their neck, the silk almost engulfing them. The voice in their ear lingered, like a parasitic whisper in their mind.

Whumpee felt their head drop against their shoulder in their moment of weakness, pressing into the crook of their neck. The figure wasn’t warm, but the hand dragging across the collumn of their throat felt like it was burning.

Caretaker sputtered a mouthful of blood, but they couldn’t do anything. “Don’t...touch them...”

The vampire grinned, those terrifyingly dangerous fangs on display.

“Don’t?” They echoed, pressing Whumpee closer to them. They wanted to rip away from them, the terror racing through their veins, but they couldn’t do anything. They couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. They felt horribly trapped and useless.

“I’ll...” Caretaker winced, their hand weakly coming up to cover the painful bitemarks on their neck. “...k-kill you.”

Whumper chuckled lowly under their breath, dragging their sharp nails across Whumpee’s skin. Their body involuntarily shivered as goosebumps littered their flesh. “Kill me? I’m immortal, darling. A half bred scum like you wouldn’t even be able to lay a scratch on me.”

Whumpee’s thoughts clouded with confusion, and the fear that flashed in Caretaker’s eyes made the vampire smirk.

“Did you not tell them?” They purred, stroking the underside of their jaw. “Did you think they wouldn’t trust you? That’s cute.”

Whumpee’s heart pounded in their chest. Terror was consuming their brain, but they couldn’t break free no matter how hard they tried. Caretaker clenched their jaw, anger flashing in their eyes. They felt fangs grazing along their neck. The pressure was ghost-like, knowing it wouldn’t take much for teeth like that to pierce through their human skin.

“I wonder what you’d do if I turned them, right here,” Whumper murmured, a soft, but sadistic edge creeping along the edges of their tone. “Made them my thrall. Keep them by my side until they’re a good little pet that would do anything for me.”

The caretaker seethed, chest rising and falling jaggedly as they attempted to drag themselves onto their arms, fighting through the burning pain. “Keep...your hands off them.”

“I came all this way to find them,” Whumper sighed, tugging down the fabric of their shirt from their shoulder. They gently tilted the whumpee’s head to the side, a cold breeze tickling their exposed skin. “It would be a shame not to put on a show, hm?”

Whumpee managed a small, choked whine. It made their heart run faster and their blood rush to their ears, begging with their thoughts to let them go. Whumper shushed them, cupping their jaw as if they were as fragile as glass. Caretaker cursed under their breath, the blood gushing from their neck as they weakly collapsed back onto their side.

“Relax, and enjoy it,” Whumper murmured, and the whumpee felt their body obeying despite so unwilling to. They felt those fangs press into their neck, and pierce through the flesh, but it didn’t seem to hurt like they had expected. Caretaker had told them it was agony. But it was the complete opposite.

Whumpee relaxed into their hold as that hand stroked affectionately at their jaw, keeping their head still, and another wrapped snugly around their waist, pulling them closer into their embrace. Whumpee’s breath shuddered and their face flushed a shade of deep red, each drag of blood being drained from their body only making them feel lighter and lighter with bliss.

Caretaker grit their teeth and looked away, unable to watch anymore. A horrible feeling stirred in their belly, almost overpowering the nauseating pain wracking through their joints. Blood trickled down their neck, matching Whumpee’s own.

“Fuck...you,” they groaned, the smell of the whumpee’s blood making them wince. “Please, don’t...”

Whumper smirked against their skin, slowly stopping their feed and licking the ruby red blood from their lips. “You should have thought about begging a long time ago...”

Their eyes fell back onto the whumpee, who seemed to be pressing themselves closer as a small whine escaped their lips, thoroughly under their influence. They gripped onto the arm around their waist with trembling hands, nails digging into their skin. Whumper smiled, pressing a kiss to their cheek.

“Oh, darling,” they purred softly, slicing their nail into the skin of their neck, and feeling the blood begin to pool on the surface of their skin. “Come on.”

They didn’t have to tug on their mind to get them to do as they were told. Whumpee was delirious and the bite had made them yearn for any kind of way to reciprocate those feelings. They clumsily wrapped their arms around their neck, pressing their lips to their throat and gently feeding from the small wound. Whumper wrapped their arms around their small body, and lifted them off the ground. The whumpee melted into their embrace, lapping at the blood eagerly.

Caretaker shakily shook their head, feeling completely and utterly powerless. “I’ll hunt...y-you down. And I’ll take them back.”

Those words made Whumper laugh as they pulled their cloak around Whumpee’s body, cacooning them in a fabric of warmth as they drowsily continued to feed.

“You are mistaken if you think I’ll let such a precious treasure go,” they smirked. “You must have known you wouldn’t have been able to hide them from me forever.”

Caretaker grunted as a the venom shocked their system. They knew they wouldn’t be able to stay conscious for much longer. The world was starting to go fuzzy around the edges.

“Besides,” Whumper cooed, turning smoothly towards the door once the caretaker had begrudgingly dragged themselves too close. “I’ll make a loyal thrall out of them yet. Who knows...”

Caretaker caught a glimpse of their red eyes and sharp grin, before their final words lingered as an echoe in their mind.

“...maybe they won’t want to leave.”

#whump #whump scenario #whump drabble #whump writing #whumpblr #whump fic #vampire whump #vampire whumper #vampire caretaker #human whumpee #vampires #fantasy whump #writing #my writing #whumper #whumpee #caretaker

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