#vampire caretaker
Continued from here
CW: Stitches, blood, drugged (vampire venom), stabbed/impaled aftermath, bites (vampires)
At home, August set Morgan gently on the floor. Their breathing was shallow— almost imperceptible. August’s hands were shaking as he carefully stitched Morgan closed.
He took a deep breath and then bit his wrist open. August let his blood flow into Morgan’s mouth. Morgan choked for a moment and August pulled them up to sit. After a while, the bite mark on Morgan’s neck began to bleed again. August closed the bite and, not long after, Morgan started to wake up, sinking their fangs into August’s wrist, only half-conscious of their actions.
August had to fight to remain alert against Morgan’s venom. He knew Morgan wouldn’t be able to stop themself before they took too much.
“Morgan.” August said after a few minutes. “Morgan, you need to stop for a moment.” Gently, he made Morgan release their bite.
“Please…” Morgan slurred, eyes closed.
“It’s okay, Morgan. You’re going to be fine.” August closed the bite on his wrist and retrieved animal blood from the kitchen. He helped Morgan to drink and Morgan grabbed his arm, desperately thirsty for more.
Eventually, Morgan’s hold loosened. August moved away, drank some himself, and then carried Morgan to their bedroom and laid them down.
As August turned to leave, Morgan reached out and took a weak hold on his shirt. “D-don’t…”
August turned to face Morgan, whose hand fell. “What is it?” He knelt down next to the bed.
“Don’t go… S… stay…” Morgan’s eyes were half-open, unfocused, and bloodshot.
August hesitated. “… I’m here.” No one had wanted him around for thousands of years. He felt torn. He didn’t want to be wanted. He didn’t want to get attached to anyone. And yet somewhere inside, he knew he didn’t want to be alone anymore. Not really.
Morgan grimaced. “H-hurts…”
“I know. I know it hurts, but it’ll get better— I promise.”
“What—” Morgan stopped for a moment to breathe. “What ha-happened..?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Morgan closed their eyes. “I-I remember… Azari attacked me… He… s-said he was going to find… you… then… then I don’t know.” Morgan’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Are you okay?”
“I’m… fine. But you almost died.”
Morgan looked confused.
August sighed. “You remember I told you vampires can only be killed by a wooden stake through the heart?”
Morgan gave a faint nod.
“Azari staked you. He missed your heart by a fraction.”
Morgan tried to sit up, but quickly paled and fell back.
“Don’t try to move. It’s going to hurt for a while. You’ll need to rest heavily for at least the next week and a half— even with advanced healing. A human would have died from your injuries. Do you want me to dull the pain?”
“Please…” Morgan whimpered.
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Continued from here
CW: Kidnapping, blisters, threat of murder, blood
“What is this place?” August slowed his steps, apprehensive.
“This has been my home for the last 200 years. Keep up.”
Despite knowing that he was stronger and far more experienced in his strength than Azari was, August had the nagging feeling to stop. Something told him that continuing was a bad idea.
And yet…
Azari had said no tricks yet. He had said they would go to Morgan. August didn’t expect him to give warning before a trick, but he only half expected one before they reached Morgan.
Azari opened a heavy iron door and August caught sight of Morgan, lying collapsed on the ground. There was a small pooling of blood under them.
“Morgan—” Every other thought left August’s mind for a moment. One, fatal mistake.
August didn’t have time to process what was happening as he was thrown to the side and his bare arms and face hit the wall. He hadn’t really looked at the room before he had entered, but now it was painfully obvious. The walls were made of silver.
August screamed, shouting profanities as he tried to fight back. It hurt to move his arms. It hurt to move his face to scream. He was glad none of his current clothing had tears though. It was only his arms and face.
August managed to throw Azari off, but Azari was laughing now.
“You still think you’re gonna win? You think you’re gonna fight me like that?” Azari gestured to the angry red blisters spanning August’s arms and face.
“Why don’t you come here and fucking find out?” August was on guard now, ready for the attack this time. Azari was wearing long sleeves, pants, and gloves. It would be difficult to incapacitate him using the silver.
Despite expecting Azari’s attack, August was still shocked by the pain searing through his arms as Azari grabbed his wrists. Azari shoved August against the wall again, searing the other side of his arms.
While August yelled and fought to get Azari to let go, Azari bit him, making his screams even louder.
Around the time August started getting double vision, Azari dropped him. August slid down the wall, cradling his arms close to his body as he fought to overcome the pain.
“That was pathetic. You might be strong, but you’re not particularly smart.”
“Why are you doing this?” August demanded.
“Because it’s what we were meant to do.” Azari crouched in front of August. “Vampires like you out to go to the stake immediately. If you don’t have it in you to kill and turn humans, why were you even reborn??”
“Well the coven that turned me didn’t exactly ask to see my resume.” August slurred, trying to push himself off the ground, hissing in pain when his blistered palms touched the floor.
“And that’s how it should be! You shouldn’t be hesitating or asking for permission from humans! You’re their superior. I’m their superior. All vampires are superior to humans! The council has forgotten its purpose. If no one does anything, they’ll start passing laws to protect human scum.” Azari pushed August back, knocking them against the wall again. “That’s why I have to kill you. If the council finds me, they’ll have me executed. I have too many things to do still.”
“This isn’t why vampires exist!” August growled through gritted teeth.
“Oh really? And why do you think they exist?”
“We’re accidents! Freaks of nature! There is no purpose for us!”
Azari leaned in close to August. “If you really believe that, then why are you fighting so hard?”
August hesitated.
“People don’t fight for things they don’t believe in! If you really thought you have no purpose, you wouldn’t care what I think my purpose is!” Azari kicked August in the head and August toppled to the ground.
@elizabeth-ithink@sunflower1000@scared-and-crying@thelazywitchphotographer@wolfeyedwitch@lonesome–hunter@whump-me-all-night-long@dabi-s-whore@jadeocean46910@emeraldwhump@appleejuice
Continued from here
CW: Blood, threats, discussion of murder
“This could have been so much easier for everyone.” Azari let go of Morgan, who fell limply to the ground, barely conscious and too weak from blood loss to stand. Azari drew the back of his hand across his lips, wiping away blood. “But you had to complicate things.”
Azari knelt on the ground next to Morgan. “I’m going to use you to take him down once I find him.” He whispered, a grin splitting his face. “And then, I’m going to kill you both.”
And Azari walked out the door.
—
August closed his eyes, leaning back against the tree in the park. He didn’t realize he was shaking.
It didn’t matter how many years went by. Ten. A hundred. A thousand. Ten thousand.
The pain always felt fresh when he thought about it.
Hissister.His responsibility. He was supposed to take care of her, but he didn’t.
He killed her.
Maybe he shouldn’t have walked out on Morgan so abruptly. But then again, if he had stayed, things would have only gone downhill.
Suddenly an odd feeling of uneasiness stabbed at August’s mind. He opened his eyes just in time to be knocked suddenly to the ground. He didn’t have time to register who his as a assailant was, but he could tell from their strength that they weren’t human.
August kicked them off relatively easily and scrambled to his feet.
A bitter taste settled in his mouth as he locked eyes with Azari. “You.”
“Surprise! It’s me.” He looked too happy. There was no way he was going to beat August in a test of strength— August had just proved that. So why was he smiling?
August’s thoughts snapped back to Morgan.
“What do you want? What did you do?”
“I think you can make an educated guess about that. Both of those, actually.” Azari stepped closer.
August brought up his hands to fight.
“Put your fists down. You look like an idiot. You can’t hurt me if you ever want to see your little pet alive again.”
“You know that’s not true. There’s only one way vampires can die, which means you’ve either already killed them or you have to go back to kill them. If they’re dead, what the hell is the point of leaving you alive. If they’re alive, I’ll find them after I put an end to this shit.” August lunged forward, but Azari was able to sidestep in time.
“Wrong. I mean, partially correct, except there are billions of places they could be. I’m fast enough that they could be at the bottom of the ocean right now. Or buried six feet underground— do you really think you can find them? And if so, how long will it take you? Maybe hours. Maybe decades. Maybe never. Are you really going to put them through that? When you could cooperate and save them from years of torturous waiting? Some things are worse than death, you know.”
August hesitated. Azari wasn’t wrong. He might be bluffing— Morgan could still be in his house. For some reason, though, August doubted it. He was right. August wasn’t going to make Morgan wait years to be found again. And he couldn’t guarantee he’d find him quickly.
“… So what happens if I decide to go with you? I can’t imagine you plan to just lead me straight to them. What’s your trick?”
“No trick. At least, not yet. I will lead you straight to them.”
August didn’t trust him— how could he— but he didn’t see a better option. “Fine. Take me to them.”
@elizabeth-ithink@sunflower1000@scared-and-crying@thelazywitchphotographer@wolfeyedwitch@lonesome–hunter@whump-me-all-night-long@dabi-s-whore@jadeocean46910@emeraldwhump@appleejuicee
Cat and Mouse p.12
[CW pet whump kinda, broken bones, vampire whumptaker/carewhumper, conditioning.]
Danny couldn’t sleep. How could he with his wrist throbbing the way it was? Fish was curled by his feet, but he couldn’t bear to move to pet her. That was probably good, though. He couldn’t stomach the thought of Fish moving any closer to him. He couldn’t stop shaking, either. And it hurt. Every tremor jostled his wrist and he couldn’t stop.
He had no idea how long he’d been staring at the wall in front of him. How was he supposed to stay alive here? Both of these people were unpredictable, try as he might, there was no way Danny could make sense of where he was or who he was with. The only thing he could make sense of was the fact that he would die here.
Danny’s shoulders hunched up as he heard footsteps behind him. This was it, wasn’t it? The end… He just hoped that they would take care of Fish once he was gone.
— — —
Marcus had acted unreasonably. He could admit that. He had been upset and had acted rashly and he would pay the price of Danny’s trust for it. He crept down the stairs to the basement, not wanting to worsen the situation between them. Danny had heard him anyway, his shoulders stiffening at the sound of Marcus’ footsteps.
“Danny, I–” Marcus started. He could see Danny shaking from the foot of the stairs. Man, he’d fucked up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t give you a chance to explain the situation and I acted off of anger and impulse. You were unfairly hurt and for that I’m sorry.”
“Y-y-y— Y-you br-broke my wrist, and y-you’re sorry?” Danny said quietly, his chin quivering as he said it. “Ah, y-y-yes, that f-fixes everything. My wr-wrist is h-he-healed.”
“Watch it.” Marcus warned.
“No.” He said, still staring at the wall. He hadn’t moved an inch since he first laid down. “What’s th-the p-p-point? I g-get hurt n-no mat-t-ter what I d-do. I’m g-gonna d-d-d— I’m gonna die h-here. It d-doesn’t mm-matter anym-more.”
Tears fell silently down his face, his voice thick with emotion. He’d been here such a short time and he’d already given up. But he was right. If he was gonna die here, and it could be any day, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what he did, or whose good side he was on, because he was always going to be hurt.
“You won’t die here. I promised your mother that much.” Marcus answered. His voice was flat, he glared at the back of Danny. He wasn’t helping his case acting like this with Marcus still a bit mad. “I told her she’d get you back someday.”
“S’not n-nice to l-lie.” He muttered. “You’ll n-never give me b-b-back. Even i-if you d-do, th-there w-won’t be anyth-thing left. J-j-just a br-broke— no, sh-shatteredshhhell.”
Marcus took a deep breath. He needed to calm down before he did another thing he would regret. Of course Danny was acting out now. Marcus figured that at least this once, he was fully in the right, he’d earned it. He finally decided to walk over to the corner and sat down at the end of the mattress. Danny flinched when he felt the bed shift, but other than that he held still.
“I’m sorry. I know I overreacted. I didn’t mean to break your wrist, I mean honestly, why didn’t you fuc–” Marcus stopped himself and sighed, still trying to breathe the anger out of his body. “Why didn’t you tell me it was broken? I hadn’t even realized. Can I see it? I can wrap it up for you so it won’t heal poorly.”
Danny didn’t move. He didn’t trust Marcus. This had to be a trap, he would hurt his wrist more and it already hurt so bad. It was the worst pain he’d felt since being here, worse than the beating, hell, even worse than the whipping. And as far as Danny knew, Marcus just wanted to make it worse.
Marcus, on the other hand, really did want to help. He knew how bad a broken bone hurt, but at least for him it was gone in a day or so. Danny would have this for a few months, maybe. A pang of guilt shot through him when Danny didn’t move. Danny didn’t trust him at all now, and who could blame him? The one person here who was at least kind of on his side was gone.
“Ok… Listen, Danny, I came down here to check on you earlier, of course. When I saw that you weren’t here, I was blinded by anger, by panic. You won’t survive out there. You know that, don’t you? You get outta here and someone else finds you and takes you to a bloodfarm. I got scared for you.”
That was a lie. Said purely out of saving his own skin. How could he win Danny back over if he knew that Marcus was just pissed that a human with the constitution of a wet leaf outsmarted him? No, he couldn’t let Danny know what was really going on in his mind then.
“It’s not a good excuse, I know. But that’s where my head was. I was too mad already that when I saw Ciaran bring you out, I couldn’t think logically. I thought you had gotten out yourself and he had found you upstairs and it didn’t even occur to me that there might be a different reason. Would you tell me what actually happened, at least?”
“W-wanted to use me as a b-body pillow. It was n-nice for once. It w-w-was warm… Did– Didn’t hurt…” He sniffed, longing for the sensation again, despite the person giving him the comfort. “W-wasn’t m-m-my fault. I-I-I did-didn’t deserve th-that. You said th-that you would only hurt me for d-discipline.”
Marcus just sighed. He did say that after all, and now look what he’d done.
“I know… I’m sorry, really.” Danny flinched as Marcus placed a light hand on his leg. “Please let me try to make it better. At least let me take care of your wrist… Please.”
“Pr-promise y-you won’t hurt me m-m-more?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I promise.” Marcus answered. “Go ahead and sit up, and I’ll be right back with the stuff.”
Danny felt the bed shift behind him as Marcus stood up and walked up the stairs. He waited a moment before trying to sit up. He whimpered, as even the slightest movements sent pain and heat radiating down his arm. But eventually, he got himself up. He held his wrist close to his chest protectively, like either of them would appear and break it more. A shaky inhale passed his lips and he reached his good hand to stroke Fish. Her soft fur and quiet purring helped. Just a bit.
Marcus quickly came back to the basement, his arms full of different medical supplies. He sat across from Danny on the mattress, spilling his armful in between them. Danny eyed him warily but eventually held his wrist out to him. It looked awful, bruises spread up his forearm, nearly reaching his elbow. Danny watched as Marcus grabbed a pill bottle and dumped a small capsule into his palm.
“Here. It’ll help you feel better.” He held it out towards Danny, waiting for him to take it from him. Danny looked quickly from the pill to Marcus’ face before hesitantly taking the pill from him and swallowing it. “You’ll probably get sleepy if the side effects listed on the bottle are accurate. That’ll be good, right?”
Danny nodded silently, waiting patiently for Marcus to grab his wrist. It didn’t matter if he was gonna break it more or try to fix it. It would hurt either way. It was all hopeless.
‘Just do anything they want,’ he thought. ‘Just do anything to lessen the amount of pain they put you through.’
Danny held back a pained whimper as Marcus gently grabbed his wrist to assess the damage. The tears came back fresh and hot on his cheeks, the mere act of someone touching it sending arrows through his arm.
Marcus very quickly and effectively wrapped Danny’s wrist tight, setting the bone in place. There was no point in drawing out his pain by going slowly, there simply was no way to do this painlessly. Even with the painkiller he had given him. He ignored the pained sounds coming from Danny, he had to or neither of them would get through this in a timely manner.
“There…” Marcus said quietly, releasing his grip. “I’m sorry, I know that hurt, but it was better for me to go quickly.”
Danny just silently nodded and wiped the tears from his face, his eyes fixed intently on Fish. He didn’t wanna look at Marcus. He’d trusted him, at least in terms of if and when he would hurt him. Marcus had lied and now Danny only had Fish.
“Would you like me to stay here and read to you until you fall asleep?” Marcus offered.
Danny just shrugged. “D-d-doesn’t mat-ter.” He said softly. It wasn’t that he was saying that because he didn’t care. No, Danny absolutely wanted to be alone. Danny wanted Marcus gone. But he couldn’t say that, could he? Besides, it’s as he’s been told too many times already. It doesn’t matter what he wants, prey doesn’t get to choose.
Prey doesn’t get to choose.
Taglist - @whumpsday@pumpkin-spice-whump@ramadiiiisme@octopus-reactivated@wolfeyedwitch@whumpiguess@thecyrulik@whumpeedeedoo@morning-star-whump@interdimensional-chaos@annablogsposts
DANNYYYYYYYYY
Shattered #2
Taglist:@octopus-reactivated@whatwasmyprevioususername@ramadiiiisme@darkthingshappen (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed )
CW: Vampire Whumper, Vampire Caretaker, Pet/Bloodbag Whumpee, Captivity, Restraints, Muzzled, Vegetative State/Disassociation, Use of hypnosis/mind control, Starvation (brief mention of weight), Creepy/Intimate Whumper, Mentions of death, Selling of human, Illness/infection, Implied previous abuse…*I feel like I’ve missed some, please let me know if I need to add some*
-
“You understand… this is an ‘end of life’ sale? That’s why the price on the advertisement was substantially low”, Vince cautioned with a quizzing brow, leading August through the long, winding corridors of his manor. “I very much doubt the boy will live to see the light of next week. I advise that this be a temporary blood bag till you find something a bit more ‘permanent’”. Biting his tongue, needle-sharp fangs sinking into the edges of the muscular organ, August suppresses the repulsed quips and curses he wishes he could hurl in Vince’s direction. The way in which he spoke of the boy as merely food and nothing more, it sickened him to his stomach.
Was it not that the boy’s heart still beats vehemently within his chest? Hopes and desires nesting in his soul that he may now never fulfill, affection that would go unshared, goodbyes never to be uttered? This was not a matter as simple as some food going off; did Vince really not comprehend the complexities of humanity? Or was it more so that he chose not to understand, lacking the necessary compassion and empathy to care? A slight suspicion indicated it would be the latter reasoning. The boy’s suffering will not end with him upon his death, as brutal as that truth was. It will only trigger a ripple of despair amongst those who care for and miss him, and that’s why August swore to himself and will later swear to Declan if given the chance, that he will one day reunite with his family again.
“I understand. I wish to proceed with the sale.” August bluntly retorted. Keep it professional, no letting tangled emotions get the better of you. See the boy, pay Vince, take him home. Done.
Vince hums in approval, a toothy smile growing on his face. When they finally approach the brass-bound, hefty door locking away the basement, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume it imprisoned an unimaginable monster, maybe even the devil himself - instead of a measly human with a melted mind. Dozens of varying locks bolted down the entire length of the door; chains, bolts, key locks. By the time the first couple were done, the rest of them were completely redundant. Overkill. August crosses his arms across his chest, tapping his feet impatiently on the floor with a vexed huff, awaiting for Vince to go through the hassle of opening every single one. When he does, he forcefully shoves the door open, causing an almighty metallic bang to ring through the house. Outstretching his arm inside the dark abyss of the room, gesturing for August to enter first.
“After you…”, Vince grins at him, waving his hand to usher August through the doorway,
Descending into the basement, the icy hush of air instantly wraps itself around August’s body - an involuntary shiver coursing down his spine, goosebumps prickling along his arms. If August; a cold-blooded creature, is bothered by the extreme chill, he dreads to imagine how the human must be coping with it. Rusty squeaks of the metal stairs sound with each cautious step down, and then the boy comes into view. Crimson eyes widening at the sight laying before him.
Declan is crumpled onto callused, bruised knees, head bowed down towards the floor with sopping wet hair leaking water droplets off the end of his curls. The boy is violently shivering, the freezing temperature and his soaked, dripping wet skin and clothes being the culprit. Though August imagines that Declan is entirely oblivious of just how much his body is rocking and trembling on the ground, fatigued muscles involuntarily straining from the physical stress.
“I did you the favour of getting him all spritzed and cleaned up”, Vince chirps, striding towards the boy and hooking his fingers underneath his chin to snap his head up and aimed towards August - his body just limply rolls in whichever direction it’s forced towards, not an ounce of stiffness. Half-lidded, glassy eyes just wearily blink at him, completely out of it and truthfully not comprehending a single word spoken in his vicinity. But now the boy’s face is lifted, August notices the thick leather muzzle buckled around his head and swallowing the lower half of his face. Scrawny arms stretched impossibly tight behind his back, wrists and upper arms bound with lengths of scratchy rope forcing his chest to puff outwards.
“He absolutely stank; reeked of sweat and piss and well… god knows what else. But don’t worry, that service is all free of charge-”
“You said he was broken? That he was living in a comatose state?” August queried, beaming a look of perplexion towards the other vampire that was now working at flicking wet strands of hair out of the human’s expressionless face.
“That he is, indeed” Vince let out a chesty sigh, plucking his hand away and allowing the boy’s head to plummet back down onto his chest. “It’s a shame, really-”
“So then why is he muzzled and tied?” August interjected, the disgust in his voice unintentionally evident.
“Ah! That…” Vince trailed off, back and stroking a finger across the muzzle, tracing along the boy’s prominent jawline to zero reaction. “Some other prospective buyers expressed… concerns. Believed him to be faking, trying his luck at a little escape. Wouldn’t hear a word of it when I ensured the boy can’t string a sentence let alone devise an elaborate escape plan. Just a precaution, to give you peace of mind-”. August’s stomach churned, observing the demeaning way Vince’s fingers swept across Declan’s paling complexion, floating over angry scars and old, healing wounds that were seemingly painted across his entire body.
“Thank you, but that’s unnecessary.”
“Want to inspect the goods before you buy? Maybe a little taste sample?” Vince roughly forces the boy’s head to the side, shoved into his own shoulder; exposing the sore, wounded throat with two perfect puncture marks.
Infection. August immediately homes in on the sore, inflamed skin circling the two fang incisions, and can almost see the sickly heat radiating from it. Poorly scabbed over wounds, weeping and raw. It’s definitely infected.
“No. I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen. I’ll take him”. To leave the poor thing to suffer another day in that state was nothing short of barbaric and cruel, and to sit idly back and allow another vampire to swoop in and buy him first, was complicit in what would be the boy’s murder.
“Perfect!” Vince’s face lights up, clapping his hands together with anticipation, “I don’t do returns. No refunds. I believe I’ve been pretty transparent; the boy is dying. Will die. There’s no dragging him back in three days time when he’s finally kicked the bucket-”
“Understood.” August chucks the envelope of cash into Vince’s hands, a smug grin emerging as he flicks his finger through all the notes, stepping away with satisfaction from the bowing pet.
“All yours.”
August bends to his knees, lowering to Declan’s level, refusing to insinuate any derranged hierarchy of power by towering above, looking down on him. The human’s pupils were mere pin prick dots almost lost in the murky brown eyes, glaring blankly back at the vampire’s deep ruby one’s. And though his body racked with trembles from the cold, when August gently places the back of his hand against the boy’s pale forehead, he’s warm to the touch. Blistering hot and sweating in fact; August hisses and withdraws his hand, his worries of infection further confirmed. He begins scooping the boy into his arms, he doesn’t expect him and will not make him stumble to the car, doubting his abused body could handle the exertion. Even if Declan wasn’t incredibly light, reduced to skin and bones - August was more than strong enough to carry him without so much as busting a sweat.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that!” Vince scoffs, “Walk with your new master, pet!” he bellows the order over August’s shoulder. Declan instantly obeys much to August’s horror; attempting to wobble to his feet, stumbling off balance and looking like he was experiencing an earthquake with how much every muscle was plagued with pained tremors.
“NO! Sleep!” August shouts the alarmed command to override Vince’s, watching with regretful eyes as Declan’s body crashes harshly back to the ground, eyes rolling back into his head and eyelids fluttering shut. Vince shoots a questioning look at August, glancing down at the unconscious boy and flickering his attention back up to the peculiar buyer. August really resented the idea of using persuasion on the boy, he had no intentions of everdoing it but Vince forced his hand. It was safer, kinder and merciful in the long run to force him unconscious… he’d avoid using persuasion at all cost in future.
August unclips the muzzle from Declan’s mouth, carefully removing the bit pressing down on his tongue, the saliva drooling out with its removal and tossing the repulsive device across to the other side of the room.
“You can keep that vile thing!”, August growls, the mask finally slipping and his true emotions leaking out. He wordlessly scoops Declans limp body into a bridal carry, the boy’s legs dangling to the side and freely swinging through the air with each step. This buyer absolutely befuddled Vince; acting so high and mighty, ‘holier than thou’ type bullshit. He silently judges the man, his cowardly gentleness with the pet.
“Pleasure doing business with you-” August grits between his teeth, making a point of barging past Vince with the boy cradled in his arms, and seeing himself out.
Carefully, he shuffles Declan into the car, laying stretched on his side across the leather back seats. Fiddly fingers working at the tight knotted ropes brutally restraining the poor thing. A sense of relief washing over when the binds are pulled away, limbs falling to his sides, but a pang of guilt ensues when he spots the raw, bruised skin that had been concealed underneath. August unwinds the seatbelts from their holsters and clinks both sets around Declan’s sleeping body. For a moment, he just sits with him and watches the weak, tired breaths shudder from his lips - the troubled rise and fall of his chest. Circling soothing rubs on his back that he is well aware have no effect on him, it won’t calm any nerves because there are no nerves to calm. Just hollow. But August is determined to fix that, certain he can breathe life back into the boy and nurse him to health.
It may not work. Not oblivious to the fact that a rough journey lay ahead. Maybe it will all be fruitless and fighting for a lost cause. But he can at least try, right?
He can only try.
-
Shattered Masterlist
Vampire Whumper, Vampire Caretaker, Pet/Bloodbag Whumpee
Years of being kept held captive, under the vampires brutal persusasion has finally broken Declan, shattered his mind. Not living but not quite dead, paralysed in a comatose-like state. Vince decides his once delicious bloodbag has finally reached its end, selling it during it’s final few days. When August sees the advert for the dying human, he knows what he must do. Taking on the responsibility of nursing Declan back to health - though he is woefully unprepared for just how deep and severe the damage is and the hardships that will arise whilst tackling it.
Shattered #2 - Sold
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CW: Vampire Whumper, Vampire Caretaker, Pet/Bloodbag Whumpee, Captivity, Restraints, Muzzled, Vegetative State/Disassociation, Use of hypnosis/mind control, Starvation (brief mention of weight), Creepy/Intimate Whumper, Mentions of death, Selling of human, Illness/infection, Implied previous abuse…*I feel like I’ve missed some, please let me know if I need to add some*
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“You understand… this is an ‘end of life’ sale? That’s why the price on the advertisement was substantially low”, Vince cautioned with a quizzing brow, leading August through the long, winding corridors of his manor. “I very much doubt the boy will live to see the light of next week. I advise that this be a temporary blood bag till you find something a bit more ‘permanent’”. Biting his tongue, needle-sharp fangs sinking into the edges of the muscular organ, August suppresses the repulsed quips and curses he wishes he could hurl in Vince’s direction. The way in which he spoke of the boy as merely food and nothing more, it sickened him to his stomach.
Was it not that the boy’s heart still beats vehemently within his chest? Hopes and desires nesting in his soul that he may now never fulfill, affection that would go unshared, goodbyes never to be uttered? This was not a matter as simple as some food going off; did Vince really not comprehend the complexities of humanity? Or was it more so that he chose not to understand, lacking the necessary compassion and empathy to care? A slight suspicion indicated it would be the latter reasoning. The boy’s suffering will not end with him upon his death, as brutal as that truth was. It will only trigger a ripple of despair amongst those who care for and miss him, and that’s why August swore to himself and will later swear to Declan if given the chance, that he will one day reunite with his family again.
“I understand. I wish to proceed with the sale.” August bluntly retorted. Keep it professional, no letting tangled emotions get the better of you. See the boy, pay Vince, take him home. Done.
Vince hums in approval, a toothy smile growing on his face. When they finally approach the brass-bound, hefty door locking away the basement, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume it imprisoned an unimaginable monster, maybe even the devil himself - instead of a measly human with a melted mind. Dozens of varying locks bolted down the entire length of the door; chains, bolts, key locks. By the time the first couple were done, the rest of them were completely redundant. Overkill. August crosses his arms across his chest, tapping his feet impatiently on the floor with a vexed huff, awaiting for Vince to go through the hassle of opening every single one. When he does, he forcefully shoves the door open, causing an almighty metallic bang to ring through the house. Outstretching his arm inside the dark abyss of the room, gesturing for August to enter first.
“After you…”, Vince grins at him, waving his hand to usher August through the doorway,
Descending into the basement, the icy hush of air instantly wraps itself around August’s body - an involuntary shiver coursing down his spine, goosebumps prickling along his arms. If August; a cold-blooded creature, is bothered by the extreme chill, he dreads to imagine how the human must be coping with it. Rusty squeaks of the metal stairs sound with each cautious step down, and then the boy comes into view. Crimson eyes widening at the sight laying before him.
Declan is crumpled onto callused, bruised knees, head bowed down towards the floor with sopping wet hair leaking water droplets off the end of his curls. The boy is violently shivering, the freezing temperature and his soaked, dripping wet skin and clothes being the culprit. Though August imagines that Declan is entirely oblivious of just how much his body is rocking and trembling on the ground, fatigued muscles involuntarily straining from the physical stress.
“I did you the favour of getting him all spritzed and cleaned up”, Vince chirps, striding towards the boy and hooking his fingers underneath his chin to snap his head up and aimed towards August - his body just limply rolls in whichever direction it’s forced towards, not an ounce of stiffness. Half-lidded, glassy eyes just wearily blink at him, completely out of it and truthfully not comprehending a single word spoken in his vicinity. But now the boy’s face is lifted, August notices the thick leather muzzle buckled around his head and swallowing the lower half of his face. Scrawny arms stretched impossibly tight behind his back, wrists and upper arms bound with lengths of scratchy rope forcing his chest to puff outwards.
“He absolutely stank; reeked of sweat and piss and well… god knows what else. But don’t worry, that service is all free of charge-”
“You said he was broken? That he was living in a comatose state?” August queried, beaming a look of perplexion towards the other vampire that was now working at flicking wet strands of hair out of the human’s expressionless face.
“That he is, indeed” Vince let out a chesty sigh, plucking his hand away and allowing the boy’s head to plummet back down onto his chest. “It’s a shame, really-”
“So then why is he muzzled and tied?” August interjected, the disgust in his voice unintentionally evident.
“Ah! That…” Vince trailed off, back and stroking a finger across the muzzle, tracing along the boy’s prominent jawline to zero reaction. “Some other prospective buyers expressed… concerns. Believed him to be faking, trying his luck at a little escape. Wouldn’t hear a word of it when I ensured the boy can’t string a sentence let alone devise an elaborate escape plan. Just a precaution, to give you peace of mind-”. August’s stomach churned, observing the demeaning way Vince’s fingers swept across Declan’s paling complexion, floating over angry scars and old, healing wounds that were seemingly painted across his entire body.
“Thank you, but that’s unnecessary.”
“Want to inspect the goods before you buy? Maybe a little taste sample?” Vince roughly forces the boy’s head to the side, shoved into his own shoulder; exposing the sore, wounded throat with two perfect puncture marks.
Infection. August immediately homes in on the sore, inflamed skin circling the two fang incisions, and can almost see the sickly heat radiating from it. Poorly scabbed over wounds, weeping and raw. It’s definitely infected.
“No. I’m satisfied with what I’ve seen. I’ll take him”. To leave the poor thing to suffer another day in that state was nothing short of barbaric and cruel, and to sit idly back and allow another vampire to swoop in and buy him first, was complicit in what would be the boy’s murder.
“Perfect!” Vince’s face lights up, clapping his hands together with anticipation, “I don’t do returns. No refunds. I believe I’ve been pretty transparent; the boy is dying. Will die. There’s no dragging him back in three days time when he’s finally kicked the bucket-”
“Understood.” August chucks the envelope of cash into Vince’s hands, a smug grin emerging as he flicks his finger through all the notes, stepping away with satisfaction from the bowing pet.
“All yours.”
August bends to his knees, lowering to Declan’s level, refusing to insinuate any derranged hierarchy of power by towering above, looking down on him. The human’s pupils were mere pin prick dots almost lost in the murky brown eyes, glaring blankly back at the vampire’s deep ruby one’s. And though his body racked with trembles from the cold, when August gently places the back of his hand against the boy’s pale forehead, he’s warm to the touch. Blistering hot and sweating in fact; August hisses and withdraws his hand, his worries of infection further confirmed. He begins scooping the boy into his arms, he doesn’t expect him and will not make him stumble to the car, doubting his abused body could handle the exertion. Even if Declan wasn’t incredibly light, reduced to skin and bones - August was more than strong enough to carry him without so much as busting a sweat.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that!” Vince scoffs, “Walk with your new master, pet!” he bellows the order over August’s shoulder. Declan instantly obeys much to August’s horror; attempting to wobble to his feet, stumbling off balance and looking like he was experiencing an earthquake with how much every muscle was plagued with pained tremors.
“NO! Sleep!” August shouts the alarmed command to override Vince’s, watching with regretful eyes as Declan’s body crashes harshly back to the ground, eyes rolling back into his head and eyelids fluttering shut. Vince shoots a questioning look at August, glancing down at the unconscious boy and flickering his attention back up to the peculiar buyer. August really resented the idea of using persuasion on the boy, he had no intentions of everdoing it but Vince forced his hand. It was safer, kinder and merciful in the long run to force him unconscious… he’d avoid using persuasion at all cost in future.
August unclips the muzzle from Declan’s mouth, carefully removing the bit pressing down on his tongue, the saliva drooling out with its removal and tossing the repulsive device across to the other side of the room.
“You can keep that vile thing!”, August growls, the mask finally slipping and his true emotions leaking out. He wordlessly scoops Declans limp body into a bridal carry, the boy’s legs dangling to the side and freely swinging through the air with each step. This buyer absolutely befuddled Vince; acting so high and mighty, ‘holier than thou’ type bullshit. He silently judges the man, his cowardly gentleness with the pet.
“Pleasure doing business with you-” August grits between his teeth, making a point of barging past Vince with the boy cradled in his arms, and seeing himself out.
Carefully, he shuffles Declan into the car, laying stretched on his side across the leather back seats. Fiddly fingers working at the tight knotted ropes brutally restraining the poor thing. A sense of relief washing over when the binds are pulled away, limbs falling to his sides, but a pang of guilt ensues when he spots the raw, bruised skin that had been concealed underneath. August unwinds the seatbelts from their holsters and clinks both sets around Declan’s sleeping body. For a moment, he just sits with him and watches the weak, tired breaths shudder from his lips - the troubled rise and fall of his chest. Circling soothing rubs on his back that he is well aware have no effect on him, it won’t calm any nerves because there are no nerves to calm. Just hollow. But August is determined to fix that, certain he can breathe life back into the boy and nurse him to health.
It may not work. Not oblivious to the fact that a rough journey lay ahead. Maybe it will all be fruitless and fighting for a lost cause. But he can at least try, right?
He can only try.
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