#Bloodbag Whumpee

[tender-traps]

bloodbags who aren't captives

being a vampire's unofficial property. you don't live in their basement and you don't do their bidding but you're theirs

vampires who stalk their prey, in the human sense of the word. they know your schedule and they know where to find you

vampires who overpower you and enjoy the fight every time, who would never be satisfied with a captive who understands that resistance is futile

vampires who use simple threats to get what they want without a fight

(a single parent and a vampire who threatens to hurt their kids)

vampires who don't need mind control when they have blackmail and extortion

vampire boss and human employee who reeeally needs this job

landlord vampire who'll throw you out if you don't let them feed from you once in a while

loan shark vampire who's being very generous allowing you to pay part of your debt in blood

vampires who are loved and respected. if you tried to tell anyone what they really are they'd never believe you

the cold dread of realizing you're not alone in the house and knowing exactly who it is and exactly what they'll do to you

vampires with free-range bloodbags :)

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #10 - Happy Birthday, August! Part III

Previous / Masterlist

CW: kidnapped whumpee, captivity (kinda/kinda not), defiant whumpee, whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, forced to kidnap references, vampire caretaker, threat of violence/death, weapons, adult language (pls let me know if I've forgotten any!)

AND FINALLY! THE LAST PART FOR AUGUST AND LUCAS' BACKSTORY! 🎉 Thank you so much for your guys' patience, with this one - it means everything <3 We resume with our usually scheduled Declan next chapter! 😍 And a mahoosive thank you to @darkthingshappen for her beta and help!

---

August feels like a stranger in his own home. A prisoner in his own home; his sanctuary now nothing more than a gilded cage. He is forever and always a captive of his own compassion and a victim of his cowardice. 

But August curses himself for daring to think like that. It’s unjust to think like that, especially on a night like tonight. The frantic hammering of a human heartbeat upstairs is his bleak reminder that he’s not alone anymore, and yet somehow… he’s never felt more alone in his life. The quiet has never screamed so loud, and the walls stretch to endless empty space around him.

For decades, August has been a ghost haunting this house. Lost in the in-between, a nobody with nobody. For decades, August has been at peace with that. Or at least, he had convinced himself that he was - if he dared to admit that the solitude was crippling, then the silence would drag him under and swallow him whole. Contentment was a convenient lie for the last century, but August’s loneliness is a glaring truth rearing its ugly head. He isn’t ready to face it.

Despair gnaws at his insides, sharper than the bite of the cold nipping his skin. Daylight has been and gone, and now moonlight bleeds through the dusty drapes. The ornate windows have blurred over with swirling white as the blizzard wails like a banshee and rages outside. August waits and waits, the grandfather clock in the corner ticks with a maddening slowness. He waits for something, anything and nothing all at once. He doesn’t know what. His comeuppance, perhaps? A wooden stake plunged straight through his spine? 

The human is still hidden away upstairs. Hours have bled by without a sound, not a whisper of movement and not a creak of the floorboard. No doubt he is plotting and scheming, waiting for his perfect chance to strike. Who could blame him? If August were in the human's position, trapped and desperate, the only natural urge for survival would twist his mind too.

August repeats his earlier vow in his mind like a broken record, over and over. When the snowstorm clears, the human will be released, and not a second later. He is a healer, not a gaoler. Every fibre of August's being aches with the need to atone. He will right this wrong no matter the cost. 

A sudden chill snakes down August's spine. A different kind of chill than the frosty air that fogs his breath. He snaps around, his eyes zeroing in on the dark figure lurking in the doorway. The human. They hadn’t made a sound, they’d just…appeared. Materialised out of thin air. Their sunken-in and bloodshot eyes lock with August’s in the dim light. His stance is imposing, his demeanour threatening. August feels strangely diminished by the very sight of him, as though he’s two inches tall.

"Hungry."

A single grumbled word is all that leaves the human's lips. Barely audible but the demand is crystal clear. Not a beg for scraps or a plea, it’s a demand. An attempt to claw back a sliver of control in a situation spiralling wildly out of reach for both of them. The terse delivery, the lack of a complete sentence - it speaks volumes. August isn't worthy of conversation, of any respect or dignity. He isn’t human, afterall - why should he be treated with any humanity?

The realisation eats away at him more than the rumbling of the human’s stomach.

That’s another thing. August forgets how quickly the human’s digestive system and their metabolism works. It’s a miracle how they live as long as they do. It’s as though the second they swallow, their belly immediately roars for even more. It must be impossible to keep up. August can’t keep up.

"I-I'll see what's in the pantry," August stammers, his voice cracking under the weight of the human's burning stare. "It- It won't be much, but..."

He shuffles towards the kitchen and its meagre cabinets. A can of chicken chunks, a tin of kidney beans, cobwebs and layers of dust line the shelves. The human catches a glimpse of the miserable sight, his expression drops to a mix of disapproval, offence and somehow, something akin to pity.

“If you plan on keeping me prisoner, you need to feed me, vamp,” the human snarls with contempt, “That’s human biology 101. Didn’t you claim to be a doc?”

August's jaw clenches. That hit a raw nerve. He wants to retort, to defend his capabilities, but the accusation lodges itself deep in August’s gut. He feels a flush of shame and embarrassment fill his cheeks, because the man’s words were a bitter truth. How can he call himself a doctor? When all he’s responsible for is pain and misery? He can’t even provide basic sustenance.

August finds himself at a loss for words. He can’t even look at the human. Instead he hangs his head and anxiously picks at the skin on his fingers.  “I-I …I didn’t p-plan this. Any of this-”

“-Food,” the human makes his demand again. His fuse running short.

“H-Help yourself. You don’t have to ask. Please, just make yourself at home.”

“This will never be my home,” the human spits venomously, his hands balled tight into fists.

“No - I - I didn’t mean tha-”

The human tears past August in a huff, his body vibrating with barely contained rage. His shoulder slams into August with deliberate malice. August, however, stands firm and absorbs the shove without a flinch. He watches as the human throws himself at the kitchen with the ferocious hunger of a starved lion. He wrenches the cupboards open with bone-jarring bangs and slams them shut with enough force to rattle the windows.

“So what’s your plan?” the human side-eyes August, squatting down to the lower cabinets and flinging them open. They’re empty too. They all are, really. He groans in frustration and slams them shut. “Earn my trust to break it? I’ll be a mindless zombie in days?”

"My plan is to return you to where I found you. As soon as I possibly can. Without hesitation." 

“‘Without hesitation?’” the human scoffs, a bitter and humourless laugh, “what a fucking joke.”

He snatches at cans and packets, what few there are that he can get his hands on. He crams a half-empty bag of dry pasta and a tin of peaches into his arms - god knows how long they’ve been there. Nothing that constitutes a full meal but his stockpile will stretch to a couple days, at least. August feels a weight settle heavy on his chest at that. He knows with a devastating certainty that the bridge of understanding between them is crumbling away. The human will surely disappear upstairs again, never to be seen. There will be no getting through to him. Strangers, they will remain.

The human fills his arms and races back towards the stairs. August scrambles after him, his voice tight, "Please, can we just talk? Before you-”

“NO! Don't follow me! Don't talk to me. Don't you dare come anywhere near me. Don't even knock on my door. You want to make good on your promise? I don't want to hear from you or see your face until we’re heading back to human territory. Comprende?!”

If August had a tail, it would be between his legs. His shoulders slump as he nods solemnly, shamefaced.

“I understand,” August croaks,  “I’m so sorry. I won’t come near you until it’s time to go.”

“Not a moment before, and not a damn second later,” the human growls with a point of his finger, veins bulging in his neck that August can’t help but notice.

One moment he’s there and the next, he disappears up the stairs in a flash. He slams the door like a hormonal teenager and August hears the unmistakable screeching and scraping of furniture being dragged across the room all over again.

*!*!*!*!*

Lucas doesn’t count the days it’s been. He doesn’t need nor want to. Even if he tried, the numbers would slip through his fingers like grains of sand. He refuses to be one of those prisoners who scratches tallies into the walls until there’s no space left to etch, until their sanity crumbles to nothing.

Either yesterday, or three days, or a week ago - Lucas can only guess, everyday has turned to mush - the storm knocked out the power lines. The house plunged into pitch-black darkness and stayed that way ever since.

It’s now or never. The vampire or him. Lucas knows no-one is coming to save him. No-one is looking for him. He can’t afford to be the damsel in distress and wait for a saviour or a miracle. The gnawing ache in his stomach and the dwindling rations remind him that his clock is ticking. 

Only one of them walks out of this alive.

Lucas grits his teeth, his resolve hardening like steel. He will be the last one standing. He dismantles his barricade, and the stake finds its way back to his palm again. His fingers curl around the splintered, shaved wood. On tip-toes, he sneaks through the shadowed hallway. A too-loud creak of the floor and Lucas freezes on the spot, his ears pricking. When nothing comes of it, he creeps on towards the stairs.

How will it feel? Brief hesitation coils around his gut. His hands turn clammy. How will it feel to take another’s life? There’ll be blood on his hands for the rest of his life - maybe guilt will eat him alive. But needs must. If he doesn’t slay the monster, there’ll be no life left to be wracked with guilt. How many countless other lives will this save aside his own?

Lucas holds his breath, cautiously poking his head through the bars of the stairwell railing. In flickering candlelight, the vampire hunches over a worn chessboard. Its face etched with an ageless ennui, it tediously moves the black knight across the squares. Somehow, its pale skin seems even more ghostly in the dim light, but Lucas notices how its dark eyes seem to hold a profound loneliness and deep despair.

The vampire was playing all by itself; the opposing white pieces stood sentinel in their starting positions. A ragged sigh escapes its lips as it captures a white pawn with a languid grace. The victory, if it could be called that, brought no spark of joy or satisfaction to its eyes. The vampire simply reset the captured pawn. And played on.

Lucas watches the vampire, his mind in turmoil. This isn’t what he envisioned; being kidnapped by a vampire. He’d imagined a life of forced subservience, drained for every drop of his blood. He saw himself fighting tooth and nail for a life no longer worth living. A life as livestock, waiting for slaughter. His grip on the stake loosens, and he stares down at it with deep contemplation.

This doesn’t feel like the nightmare Lucas had always feared it would be. This vampire, this monster that stole him… has kept to every promise it’s made. Lucas can’t believe that he’s admitting that. It hasn’t used persuasion. Why? It would be so easy, like taking candy from a baby. Lucas would have no choice but to grovel at its feet and offer it a drink from his neck. But the vampire hasn’t even tried to feed, claims it doesn’t want to feed. The vampire hasn’t laid a hand on Lucas. It’s given him peace and solitude, food and drink, endless promises to return him to human territory, safe and sound. 

A wave of doubt crashes over Lucas. Could he dare to trust the vampire’s word?

“Care to join…?”

Lucas jumps out of his skin. The vampire is looking right at him, its gaze fixed and intense. For a moment, Lucas fears the worst. Has he angered the creature? But as he looks closer, he realises that the vampire's expression was not one of anger. Instead, there’s a raw desperation and longing in its eyes, a look that Lucas had never seen or maybe cared to notice before. He quickly and discreetly shoves the stake into the waistband of his jeans, and grabs the bars of the stairs like the prisoner he’s been so convinced he is.

“What do I win?” Lucas calls down. There’s still hesitation to his voice, an air of stubbornness. He’s not fully prepared to let his guard down just yet.  

For the first time, the vampire actually smiles. “Bragging rights. I never lose.”

Lucas hesitates, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation coursing through him. Perhaps this game of chess would help pass the time before he goes back, and maybe, just maybe, it would give him a chance to glimpse into the mind of this vampire. He nods and heads down the stairs as the vampire frantically and meticulously restarts the board.

“I’ll let you go first, of course. Give you a headstart. It would be unfair otherwise,” the vampire lightly teases.

Lucas moves first, his fingers hesitating slightly as he places a white pawn forward. The vampire responds with equal care, its movements precise and deliberate. They play in pregnant silence, the only sound the soft click of the pieces against the board. An eternity and a half passes before the silence is dared to be broken.

“I’ve been thinking,” The vampire ponders, “when the power is restored, is there anyone you could call? Just to let somebody know you’re safe? That you will be back as soon as you can?”

Lucas leans back, his eyes glued to the board, and without looking up, simply replies, "Nope."

“No-one at all? Not a single soul?” the vampire presses.

“That’s what nope means, don’t it?” Lucas takes a pawn, and the vampire uncomfortably shuffles in its chair. “You know that no-one’s looking, that’s why you chose me, remember…?” a condescending smirk curls on Lucas’s lips. Like he can afford to prod and jibe. He’s feeling more at ease, his confidence growing with each passing moment.

"Anyway. You must be the softest leech going. Either that or you're playing the long game. The self-restraint is mind-boggling... don't you want a bite? Bet the smell is driving you almost cuckoo," Lucas outstretches his arm and waves it underneath the vampire's nose.

Lucas doesn't know how much he even believes what he’s saying anymore. His thoughts are a whirlwind. He has been so hellbent on survival, on staying one step ahead of the vampire, that he hadn't had a second to breathe and take a step back to really think about what was happening. He watches the vampire's face closely, searching for any sign of weakness or desire. Is the restraint genuine, or is it just a facade?

Instead the vampire’s face falls and it gasps, reaching out for Lucas’s wrist, “Your wound-”

The gash on Lucas’ palm is deep, the edges jagged and uneven and the skin around it is inflamed and swollen. Lucas had bigger fish to fry than worrying over a silly little cut, but now he notices it, he feels it throb with dull pain.

“That’s not looking good. Would you let me take a look at it?”

Lucas quickly retracts his arm and cradles his hand defensively. His eyes narrow. “If you win. If you win, maybe I’ll let you. But what do I get if I win?”

The vamp seems satisfied by that. So certain of its inevitable triumph. “I told you. Bragging rights.”

Lucas isn’t so certain that the vampire will best him. He remembers the long days spent practising his moves against the undefeated champion. His grandpa was tough, but Lucas had always held his own. There were times when he thought he might just be able to beat him, but the old man always managed to pull through.

A flicker of nostalgia and a flicker of grief passes over Lucas's face.  “My grandpa. He was the undefeated champ. But I got pretty damn close on occasion. This will be childsplay.”

The vampire’s face softens, its voice gentle, “Is he…still with us?”

“If he was, do you think I’d be sleeping rough on some sopping wet cardboard?” Lucas makes another sharp move, capturing one of the vampire’s pieces. Silence fills the air, and Lucas sighs.

“Why aren’t you using persuasion? You could easily win this. Make me move my knight and the game’s all yours,” Lucas suggests, shrugging. The vampire lets out a low chuckle, his eyes scanning the board as he calculates his next move. But Lucas's words lingered, a nagging thought in the back of his mind.

“No…but, in all seriousness…why - why aren’t you using persuasion? Like, at all? I’d be powerless to stop you. I’d… be y-yours,” he stutters. “Entirely at your mercy. You wouldn’t have to follow through on your promise to free me.”

The vampire's ruby-red eyes widen in shock. Its mouth drops open as though he’d been struck. It averts its gaze down to the flickering candlelight.

“Why would I?” the vamp laments, “I don’t want to use persuasion. To what aim? I’ve made a promise to you, and I intend to keep it. I value your trust, and I would never do anything to jeopardise it. You deserve your free will. Your choices and your thoughts are, and will always be, your own.”

“I didn’t choose to be here-” Lucas' lips respond quicker than his brain can comprehend. He can tell those words cut like a knife to the vampire. 

“No… you didn’t.” The vampire whispers, its tone heavy with guilt. “And that will haunt me for as long as I shall live.”

Lucas is taken aback. He’d always assumed that vampires were cold, unfeeling monsters - devoid of all emotion. But here, he saw something different. He feels something different. The vampire’s words were filled with a mournful regret. He fears he’d been too quick to judge, too eager to paint the vampire as a villain. Maybe there is more to this creature than meets the eye.

The wind suddenly picks up outside, it howls and screeches, whipping against the glass. Lucas stares out the window, a chill running down his spine as he watches the snow swirl and fall.

“I hate to say it… I am glad you are here. Not out there tonight,” the vampire says, watching the blizzard too with a heavy heart.

"Yeah. Me too,” Lucas mumbles. 

"What would you do?” the vampire frets, dragging itself back to the game’s attention and playing its turn, “If you were? Where would you go?"  

"I...I don't know,” Lucas shrugs, “Loiter somewhere warm inside until they chuck me out?" 

"Is there truly no-one you could go to?" 

"No-one. I – I don't have any family left. And try making friends in a nomadic lifestyle. I'm never in one place long enough to keep friends. And if I'm honest? I'm shocked one of you lot hadn't snapped me up sooner. I was...kinda expecting it." 

Every night was a gamble, every morning was a blessing. Lucas always had to be careful, to seek refuge in shadows and find safety in numbers wherever possible. He knew it was coming sooner or later. He was always a sitting duck for a vampire to come along and nab.

“Forgive me if I do say, I am glad I was the one to snatch you up. And not another.”

The walls Lucas put up seem to be slowly knocked down brick by brick. He doesn’t feel like a hunted animal or a captive anymore. He doesn’t feel like he has to look over his shoulder at every turn. It feels almost…safe. 

“Yeah… guess I probably lucked out, huh?” 

Silence falls once again, Lucas looks down to the board. But now he sees an opportunity. With a swift and decisive move, Lucas advances his rook, placing the king in check. The vamp’s king is trapped, cornered by Lucas's pieces.

There’s no escape. The vampire’s face falls as it realises. Lucas has won the game.

“There’s no way-” the vamp mutters, shaking its head in disbelief. “Well played,” he concedes, offering a hand out to shake. Lucas takes it readily. 

“I - I know we made a deal, but please may I look at your wound?” the vampire tries its luck.

“Finee,” Lucas rolls his eyes jovially, “Guess I’m feeling benevolent. Coming off a high from my win.”

*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*

The human sits on top of the examination table, swinging his legs nervously like a child. His eyes flitter around the room, eyebrows furrowed. There’s no sign of the destruction and chaos he unleashed last week. 

August approaches him and gently lifts the human’s hand, examining the slash across the palm. “This looks deep,” he murmurs to himself, turning the human’s hand to different angles and reaching for a bottle of antiseptic.

“Luckily, I don’t think it’s infected. Just a bit swollen. I have some antibiotic ointment - neomycin - and we’ll dress the wound. Shouldn’t give you too much trouble.”

As August pours the antiseptic onto the wound, the human flinches and hisses through his teeth. His eyes squeeze shut, snatching his hand away. The sudden movement startles August, who flinches back too, his heart hammering at his ribs.

"Are you alright?" August asks once he’s caught his own breath, his voice filled with concern. He tries to appear confident and in control, but the truth is, he’s just as nervous as the human.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the human replies, his voice a bit shaky. "It just stung a bit, is all."

August nods, his eyes filled with a strange intensity. "Want to know something?" he asks. The human nods, his own eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I used to be terrified of humans," August confesses.

The human’s eyebrows shot up. "You? Scared of humans? A vampire?"

“My mother spun tales of hunters, mobs, and lynchers. I was taught hell hath no fury like a human. I grew up believing our own blood bags would tear me limb from limb should they grab hold of me. I thought humans were my natural predator."

The human is silent for a moment, his mind racing. "…when it was the other way around," he finally finishes. “I’ve lived my entire life in fear of you - of your kind.”

“Me too. Our practices are cruel-”

“What makes you so different?” The human cuts in, desperate for answers, “Why - Why are you being kind to me?”

August gently applies the ointment to the human’s wounded palm, then a clean bandage securing it with a strip of medical tape. He places a cold compress on the area to help reduce swelling and pain.

“Kindness costs nothing, but means everything,” August explains, “You were not put on this earth to suffer, or to be my food. Nor would I ever want that. You deserve your freedom -  your humanity. I will live my life, and you will live yours.”

“Why-Why did you take me? If you never wanted me, if you never wanted this … why am I here?” the human croaks, tears brimming in his eyes. 

“I was left with no choice, I promise you. I - I took you to save you. My family - they forced my hand. They said they would take you if I didn’t. They would hurt you. They would make your life a living hell. It was the only way I could stop them - It was the only way I could make sure you made it home again-”

A tear freely rolls down the man’s cheek, he quickly swipes it away. “You…You saved me?”

“I’m so sorry it had to happen this way. But I would do it ten times over if it meant I knew you were safe in my hands.”

The human closes his eyes, and exhales a deep breath of relief. August can see the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. “T-Thank you,” the human whispers.

“Please,” August shakes his head in abnegation, “Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve gratitude. You deserve every apology I could ever utter, and still it would never be enough.”

August scuttles across the room to his cabinets, rummaging around for the painkillers he knows are hiding in there somewhere.

“August?”

August’s heart leaps. He stops still, the world stops still. It’s the first time the human has spoken his name. Not vamp, not leech, or monster. August. It’s like music to his ears.

“My…My name is Lucas. Lucas Slater. I - I thought if I gave you my name… I was giving myself away. But I trust you with my name.”

It’s not much, but it’s more than August could have ever hoped for. It feels like the sun rising after a long, dark winter. His legs feel as if they might give out beneath him, he has to lean against the countertop to steady himself.

“Lucas.” August whispers to himself. He can finally put a name to the stranger.  “It’s - It’s nice to finally meet you, Lucas.”

*!*!*!*!*!*

The day finally arrived. The day Lucas had been waiting for was finally here. Hometime. To where or whatever his home is supposed to be. But home has never been just a place to Lucas. It’s always been a feeling, a sense of belonging. This house, that was supposed to be his prison, has become more of a home in this short time than he has ever known in his entire life. The days spent with August felt like a new lease of life, their connection grew day by day. At night, Lucas slept like a baby, without a care in the world. In a toasty bed, and not on cardboard and newspaper. With a warm belly, and no starved rumbling. For the first time, he feels that sense of belonging he’s craved.

He’s never belonged anywhere, and neither has August, it seems.

The snow has melted, revealing a landscape that was both familiar and foreign. It looked so much like human territory but felt worlds apart. As they drove through the countryside, Lucas couldn't help but think about all he would leave behind. The vampire's old, dusty house had become his asylum, a place where he felt safe and protected. He had grown to trust August, to rely on him.

Lucas couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had been gnawing at him all morning. He knew his time with August was coming to an end, and the thought of leaving filled him with a sense of loss. He had grown to respect the vampire, more than he ever thought possible. He glances at August in the rearview mirror. His expression is unreadable, dormant. He’d been quiet all morning. He stares absentmindedly out the window, lost in thought. Lucas wonders if August feels the same way. They both live such lonely lives. A nobody with nobody. What if he stayed? Would that be so awful? 

They continue driving in silence, the only sound the gentle hum of the car’s engine. Lucas watches the road pass them by from the window, edging closer and closer to human territory. Lucas feels his stomach sink. Going ‘home’ shouldn’t feel like that. This isn’t right.

"Stop the car," Lucas blurts out.

"You want to get out here? We're still miles away yet!" August queries.

"No, I... I've been thinking," Lucas stammers. "How do you... feel about a new roommate? I guess I'd feel bad leaving you to your lonely, boring self with your dusty, old books."

Lucas silently scolds himself, using his humour as a shield. He lets the mask slip, and his lip wobbles with impending tears.

"I - I have nothing back in human territory. You plucked me from the streets, my cardboard bed, my only possession was a paper cup with a few coins... I'll do anything. Odds are another vampire will find me again in no time and I - I doubt I'll be as lucky to get another one as kind as you - it'd be like lightning striking the same spot twice."

"If you truly wish to stay, you're more than welcome..." August began, his voice soft. "The guest bedroom is yours for the taking, stay as long as you need or want. Please do not stay on my account, or out of fear of me. You truly are free to go."

Lucas hesitates, a thousand what if’s fill his mind. This is quite possibly the most idiotic choice he’s ever made, but it just feels right in his gut. It’s the path he’s meant to take.  "I - god this is so stupid, I barely fucking know you but... I think I trust you. If this kindness is all an act or a game then hey, props to you for keeping it up this long, you deserve to feed off me."

August can't help but smile, a gentle expression that warmed Lucas's heart. "Only if you're absolutely, positively sure. You can change your mind at any time. But...I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

Lucas takes a deep breath. He rests his head against the window.  "Turn the car around. Let's go home."

---

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@tobiaslut

[deluxewhump]

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

(Two Vampires feed from human bloodbag)

The human bloodbag knelt at the vampires’ feet. Vampire A hummed in approval. They hadn’t fed in nearly three nights. They were looking forward to savoring this. Their bloodbag knew how they liked it by now— short sessions, shallow draws of blood. A respite, and then again. Sometimes Vampire A was truly satisfied by the time they finally stopped, and sometimes they only did so because their bloodbag was weak and growing pale and had started murmuring a hopeful little please.

Knowing what was next, the kneeling bloodbag bared their neck for them.

“Other side,” Vampire A said softly. “You’re not entirely healed. There you go.”

Vampire B touched the bloodbags wrist. They tensed and whimpered, already being fed from by the neck.

“Easy,” soothed Vampire B, running their fingers up and down the bloodbag’s forearm in light amusement. “Where are the trust issues coming from tonight?”

Whether it was trust or the human giving up, they turned their arm wrist-up to offer to Vampire B. Vampire B took it in both hands like an instrument and kissed the skin before the puncture.

[kabie-whump]

Hi! I started following you recently and I LOVE your writing!!! May I make a request? I'd love to see your take on a yandere vampire whumper keeping a darling human whumpee in captivity. Maybe they see Whumpee as both a bloodbag and a companion/pet?

Only if you want to!!

Thanks so much! I'm sorry this took so long but I finally found time to come back to this! All hail spring break!

Content: hypnosis, ex-vampire hunter whumpee, pet/bloodbag whumpee, intimate whumper, vampire whumper, memory loss, gaslighting

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"Is there someone outside?"

Surprised, Whumper glances down at Whumpee, who blinks groggily as they wake. They usually stay out for longer after Whumper feeds on them. Maybe the noise woke them.

Whumper runs their fingers through Whumpee's hair. "Yes, darling. Someone's trying to take you away from me again. But don't worry - my hounds are taking care of it."

There's a distant, muffled scream. Whumpee flinches, their eyes going wide as they sit up. They'd left a dark patch of drool in the fabric of Whumper's pants, but Whumper doesn't mind at all.

"Wait... I know that voice. Who's out there?"

Whumper acts quickly, grabbing Whumpee's face and turning them to force eye contact. They can't let their most treasured companion remember that those humans used to be their friends; that Whumpee used to be a vampire hunter along with them.

"No one important," Whumper insists, pouring a sprinkle of magic into their words. "They're bad people. They want to take you away and hurt you."

It's always so cute to watch the effects of the hypnosis weigh Whumpee down, relaxing their anxious mind. Their pupils dilate until the color of Whumpee's eyes shows in only barely visible rings. Their breathing slows down. Their shoulders slump.

"'Kay," Whumpee whispers. "Sorry. I... got confused."

Whumper presses a kiss to their forehead. "It's alright, pet. I'll take care of everything. No need to worry. No need to even think."

Whumpee nods sleepily, allowing Whumper to pick up their wrist and examine the fresh bite mark. It's already scabbing over nicely. Whumper doesn't like biting their wrists, but their neck is so covered in marks now that they'll have to wait for some of those bites to heal before they can make more.

"Does it hurt?" Whumper asks as they kiss right next to the wound.

Whumpee shrugs, then nods. "A little," they admit. "I'm dizzy."

"Aw, I'm so sorry. You know I hate having to hurt you, don't you?"

"You'll die otherwise, right?" Whumpee asks hopefully. "You need me?"

"Yes. I need you to keep me alive, and you need me to keep you calm. You're much better off as my companion than you were before."

Whumpee's brow creases. "What was I before? I don't remember."

Whumper hums, pulling Whumpee into a gentle hug. "No one at all, dearest." Definitely not one of the city's most renouned vampire hunters, they think with a smirk. "No one at all."

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[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

Whumpuary 2024 Day 6

6. (Jan 11-12) Exhaustion / Blindfolded / Old Injuries  

cw reluctant whumper, exhaustion, blood loss, vampire whumper, human whumpee, scars, intimate whumper 

Whumpee stood in front of the mirror, head tilted to the side as their fingers traced the bite marks going down their neck. They were in various stages of healing—some had faded to white scars, others were bruised and scabbing, and the most recent one was still an aggravated red. If Whumpee scratched at it, it would start bleeding again easily. 

“You okay?” 

They glanced up quickly. “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

Whumper shrugged, eyes locking with theirs in the mirror. “Perks of being a creature of the night, I suppose. Very sneaky.” 

“Right,” Whumpee said with a chuckle. 

A moment of silence passed, with both of their gazes drifting to Whumpee’s neck. Most of the marks were concentrated there, but others were hidden by Whumpee’s clothes. Their wrists, the inside of their elbow, their thighs. 

“You look tired,” Whumper pointed out. 

“I’m fine.” The constant blood loss left them exhausted and perpetually dizzy, but it really was fine. Whumper worried too much. 

They frowned, closing the distance between them and Whumpee. Whumper kissed their neck gently, lips fitting over one of the older bites. “I wish they didn’t scar so much.” 

“I don’t mind,” Whumpee muttered. “I like the reminders of you. Knowing that I can give you what you need, instead of letting you worry about where your next meal is coming from. Or hurting someone who doesn’t want this.” 

Whumper nodded slightly, eyes meeting theirs in the mirror. “We can’t keep doing this forever, though. Someday I'm gonna take too much, and then I don’t know what I'd do with myself.” 

Whumpee took in their own reflection—the pallid skin, distant eyes and dark circles, thin frame—and wondered if that day was very far in the future.  

[mj-iza-writer]

The last thing Whumpee remembered was a bright light coming at them from seemingly nowhere. It felt like a bus when it hit them.

Whumpee squinted their eyes open. They felt drowsy from whatever was thrown at them.

'Whoever's magic that was needs to tone it down', Whumpee thought to themself, 'they must not of had proper training.'

Whumpee already felt that they were tied down with rope and black shrink wrap. A gag had been forced into their mouth, and a tube was connected to it. The tube ran partially down their throat so they could breath and eat. Without it, they would suffocate, but for the inexperienced, the gagging could be worse than suffocating.

Whumpee carefully wiggled, any panicking would make them gag. This wasn't their first time in this situation, they knew this, they were to experienced to make a mistake like panicking.

'Slave trade', Whumpee told themself after receiving a hit to their stomach, 'I'm in the blood market for the vampires.'

'This is terrifying... what if I go to someone else', Whumpee whimpered, 'at least Master makes sure we are properly cared for. Even if it's to cultivate our blood for himself.'

Humans on the purchasing block were wrapped up tightly in black shrink wrap so they couldn't see. A picture was posted of them when they first came in, and their blood was tested by several vampires in the trade so a correct description was posted for interested owners.

Whumpee had a very specific flavor in their blood. Their Master enjoyed it immensely, so Whumpee questioned how they ended up here.

'Master kills the humans he no longer wants. He doesn't resell', Whumpee thought to themself, 'they must have been watching me. Master won't be happy when they find out that I'm missing.'

Whumpee could feel hands caressing their body.

'I always hated this part', Whumpee groaned.

"Whumpee is that you?", someone whispered near Whumpee's head.

Whumpee quickly nodded.... somehow that voice seemed familiar enough. They gagged slightly from the tube.

"I thought so", the voice whispered again, "hold on, I was trying to find Tatum's branding on you, and I couldn't remember where they place it. Don't worry I'll get you out of this situation."

Whumpee felt relieved.

"Their picture of you was questionable, and I know Tatum wouldn't give you up so easily", the voice whispered, "with how much they praise your blood."

'I'd be dead if master wanted me gone', Whumpee sighed to themself.

"Excuse me", Whumpee's rescuer called over an employee, "I would like to put a hold on this one.... a friend of mine has been looking for blood like this slave's, I need to call for them."

"Yes of course", the employee nodded.

Whumpee felt arms cradle them from underneath. They were lifted and carried to a private room.

"If I may remain with them until my friend arrives. So I can make sure nothing happens to them", Whumpee heard the friend talking.

"Of course you can stay in this room... just do not remove the wrapping. In case your friend doesn't want them we won't have to rewrap them. It's harder when they're awake", Whumpee heard the person leave.

"I'm pretty sure your master wants you back. I just texted them, and they are not happy", Whumpee heard the person sigh, "I'm not leaving you like this... that tube has to be uncomfortable."

Whumpee nodded, then gagged again.

"Okay hold still."

Whumpee felt the person start cutting the wrapping away.

They were finally able to see who it was.

"Master Collin", Whumpee whispered after the gag and tube were removed.

"Yes dear", they smiled, "don't make too much noise, I don't want them coming back."

Whumpee remained in a laying down position.

"I don't know what happened", Whumpee whispered hoarsely, "I was outside to get some sunlight at Master's requests..... a bright ball of light hit me. When I woke up I was here. They used a lot of magic, I'm still drowsy."

Master Collin nodded, "these traders have been kidnapping different humans from their masters and reselling them again", they sighed, "I'm sorry I don't have any water for you. I know that tube dries you out."

"It's okay", Whumpee whispered.

"Tatum should be here shortly... I know they've been hunting you down since last night", Master Collin frowned.

Outside of the room rumors amongst the employees spread across the sale floor. A mysterious person was walking up and down every aisle.

Mysterious meant rich for most slave traders.

Master Tatum's frown deepened as he passed every human that was not Whumpee.

"I hate these places so much", Tatum complained, "this is inhumane even for lowly creatures like humans."

Tatum pulled out their phone, "I'm getting irritated. Where is my property?", they texted Collin.

"I had them brought to a private room for protection", Collin replied, "I'll open the door."

Collin opened the door and waved at Tatum.

Tatum rolled their eyes and started toward the room.

"Hello Master, can I interest you in....", a seller approached.

"No, I already know what I'm looking for... out of my way", Tatum gruffed.

"Yes I apologize", they quickly moved out of the way and watched Tatum storm off.

Tatum came into the room and saw Whumpee's state.

"They didn't waste any time preparing you for sale", Tatum frowned, "I am quite irritated seeing you like this."

"Please Master, I-I didn't do anything", Whumpee pleaded.

"I-I'm well aware", Tatum sighed, "I can smell the magic seeping off of you."

"Collin will you help me untie them?", Tatum stepped closer.

"I told you not to do that", the seller from earlier came in yelling.

Tatum turned quickly and snapped their fingers.

The seller flew back into the selling room, and Tatum stormed after them.

"You dare steal my property, then tell me what I can do with them", Tatum yelled.

Collin peaked out the door with a grin.

"What's happening?", Whumpee whispered.

"Tatum has reached their last straw. They'd burn this place down if it wasn't for the humans and innocent bystanders here", Collin chuckled.

Police had been called on Tatum's behavior, but it was quickly reversed on the slave traders.

The doors would be closed permanently on this company. All humans would be checked to ensure they were not stolen. All the others would be given to other sellers who followed more humane practices.

Whumpee was quickly returned to Tatum.

"Thankyou", Tatum looked at Collin, "I appreciate you finding them for me."

"Of course", Collin grinned, "I'm happy to help."

Tatum carried Whumpee home.

"Bed now, we will get that filthy place cleaned off of you after you've rested", Tatum frowned.

Whumpee looked down sadly.

"What?", Tatum tried to settle down. Whumpee wasn't at fault for this incident. They knew Whumpee didn't deserve their anger.

"Co-could I have something to eat.... a-and some comfort", Whumpee tried not to cry, "I tried to stay strong, but", Whumpee felt a tear sneak out, "I-I was scared."

"Yes you can have food.... you know I'm not the most comforting vampire right", Tatum glared.

"I know... b-but I'll take anything", Whumpee shook.

"Fine, let's get this over with", Tatum frowned, "let's get you some food first..... I'm guessing they never fed you then."

"No Master, Whumpee followed shyly, "unless they fed me through the tube while I was unconscious."

"I had thought you ran away when you didn't return when I called. I swore I would hunt you down. You knew the outcome for running from me. I wondered how brave you thought you were. When I came outside I smelt the magic spells used on you, and I realized you were taken", Tatum talked while they prepared a meal, "then I received Collin's message and I hurried to you", Tatum frowned, "I'm sorry", they forced out, "that should of never happened to you. I will take precautionary measures to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Whumpee smiled weakly as Tatum set a plate of food in front of them.

"Will you require a meal from me tonight as well Master?", Whumpee took a fork from Tatum, "thankyou for this food, Master."

"You're welcome... you may eat", Tatum sat at the table.

"As for a few days, I'll feed from the others. This way you have time to recover. Your blood won't taste good to me from the stress you were put through. I'll feed when I feel you're ready."

Whumpee choked.

"Slow down, you are over filling your mouth", Tatum warned.

"I'm sorry my throat is still sore from the tube", Whumpee looked at the plate, "plus this is delicious."

"Good", Tatum sighed, "let's get you cleaned up next.... then I will attempt to comfort you... I guess you deserve something for your trials."

Whumpee was taken into the bathroom, a different blood slave helped them bathe.

"Yeah, Master came into the kitchen and saw us eating, and they asked where you were. None of us knew, so they called for you", they talked with each other, "we were scared when you didn't return, then Master was ticked. Out of all of us you were the least likely to run from Master."

Whumpee nodded, "I would never dare such a thing, they would kill me. You wouldn't be truly free, constantly looking over your surroundings until the inevitable happened and Master came for you. With the bounty on my blood, they'd probably leave me in the dungeon and feed on me when they wanted."

"Probably", the other smiled, "in complete honesty, I don't even think Master is as bad as they could be. So what if they feed off of us, Master does it to survive, they have a right to survive as well. Master never hurts us unless we deserve it. We are well taken care of, and they don't over feed. There are five blood slaves all together."

"Plus they are a good cook", Whumpee laughed, "I know the care they put into us is to ensure our blood is of the best quality for them. I don't know many owners who put that much effort into their humans. Though we are fairly expendable for Master, it's still nice to be taken care of "

"I'm glad you both find me to be a good master", Tatum stood by the door and chuckled as the two jumped.

Whumpee and the other looked down shyly and tried to hide their embarrassment.

"No please continue saying good things about me. I've been listening for the last few minutes", Tatum came into the bathroom, "truly I am happy to know that at least two of you like me, and don't plan on running away. I at least know who I don't have to watch as strictly."

"You protect us Master", Whumpee looked up slowly, "why would we want to run?"

Tatum turned, "hurry and finish, unless you feel this was comforting enough. You are at least smiling now. Do you still require me to care for you?", Tatum frowned.

"You don't have to if you don't want to", Whumpee whispered, "but I would appreci...."

"Good", Tatum quickly left the bathroom and down the hall.

"I guess you aren't getting any hugs from Master tonight."

"I-I guess not", Whumpee sighed.

Whumpee tossed and turned half the night, nightmares and discomfort gnawed at them.

They sat up in bed and looked around.

"My throat hurts so bad, and these covers feel like I'm tied up again", Whumpee looked at their hands, "I wonder where Master is."

Whumpee got up and grabbed their teddy, then quietly left their shared bedroom.

After a few minutes, they found Tatum by the fire reading.

"Why are you awake?", Tatum didn't look up.

"Nightmares and discomfort Master", Whumpee stood in the doorway, "ma-may I have comfort now... please."

Tatum sighed, "it's not my specialty to be comforting that's why I have six..", Tatum caught themself. They had just killed one of the slaves for not obeying and breaking rules, "five of you to comfort each other."

"Please, even if it's your hand on my shoulder, it would help", Whumpee's voice cracked as they tried not to cry. They held their throat, "it still hurts Master."

"I've already asked for the doctor to come by and check on you. Collin reminded me of a few things they would have done to you. They will be by tomorrow", Tatum sighed, "well if you must, you must... come here then."

Whumpee quickly walked to the couch and sat beside Tatum.

Tatum awkwardly rested their hand on Whumpee's shoulder and then went back to reading.

"You are safe now", Tatum forced themself to say, "I assure you that will not happen again."

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee whispered.

"Ymhmm", Tatum hummed.

Whumpee started to grow tired sitting there.

They closed their eyes and absent-mindedly laid down; their head now on Tatum's leg.

"Whumpee I didn't agree to this", Tatum tried to lift Whumpee off, but Whumpee was out.

"Great now what?", Tatum sighed and looked at Whumpee awkwardly, "I'm only allowing this, so you'll sleep... do you hear me?"

They rested their hand on Whumpee's shoulder again and went back to reading.

Tatum's slaves required a full eight hours of sleep every night for their blood quality. Either Tatum had to wake Whumpee and mess with their already destroyed sleep schedule, or deal with Whumpee laying there until morning.

"At least no one else will see this", Tatum whispered.

Tatum saw movement at the doorway a while later.

"Now why are you up?", Tatum complained, "no humans should be awake in my household."

"I'm sorry Master, I saw Whumpee was away from their bed... I was going to check on them", the slave smiled when they saw Whumpee, "I see you got them."

"Yes I do, and if you say anything about this to anyone I will tear out your throat. Am I clear?", Tatum threatened.

"Yes of course Master... we wouldn't want anyone to think you have softened for something lowly like a human", the slave prodded.

"Go back to bed... now", Tatum ordered, "take your sarcasm with you."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump

[whumpninja]

Ask Me About…Vampire Whump!

That’s right, the first ask game in this project is for you, Fang Gang! (I’ve accepted using that name for vampire whump creators.) Since vampire whump takes so many different forms, I’ve split the twenty questions in this ask game into different categories. So no matter what type you write, there’ll be questions that match your characters! Stick to one section, or mix them up- whatever fits your OCs best!

I’m accepting suggestions for next week’s ask game genre, and soon the “order form” for custom ask games will be up! Hope it isn’t a pain in the neck waiting a bit longer, but while you do, sink your fangs into these delicious questions!

Warning: these are whumpy questions, so they involve some dark content! Blood, death, et cetera.

Taglist: @sleepyiswhumping

QUESTIONS FOR A VAMPIRE WHUMPER

🦟- what’s your favorite blood type?

🍷- how does your thrall/bloodbag/juicebox’s blood taste?

⏳- what is it like being so powerful and/or immortal?

🩸- what do you think of humans?

🦇- do you have any remorse?

QUESTIONS FOR A VAMPIRE WHUMPEE

🫗- do you still get to drink blood?

🧛🏻‍♂️- what was your life like before this?

🕸️- are you a monster?

☀️- what’s the worst thing that’s been done to you?

🌙- what would you do first if you could escape?

QUESTIONS FOR A VAMPIRE HUNTER

🧄- what weakness do you exploit the most against vampires?

💀- how many vampires have you killed?

😈- what’s your motivation for being a hunter?

⚰️- what’s the best way to deal with a vampire, in your opinion?

🕷️- have you had any close calls?

QUESTIONS FOR A THRALL/BLOODBAG/JUICEBOX

🥀- are you happy?

🦷- do you like being fed from?

👠- is your owner/master cruel to you?

🗝️- if you were to try to escape, how would you do it?

🪦- do you think you’ll die here?

[whump-queen]

whumpee being kept as just a blood source~

it’s just so much more dehumanizing, getting tossed around and kept restrained and covered in bruises and bite marks all the time, always on the precipice of deleriousness from the constant blood loss. weak and angry and desperate but too drained of blood and energy to do anything but snarl and struggle weakly against the ropes that keep their hands behind them

[doumidas-whumps]

you can only bite her so many times! why not save some for later?

[whumpy-writings]

Sold

Of Vampires and Men Masterlist

Takes place between Recollections and The Blood Market

CW: Vampires, slavery, verbal abuse, dehumanization, restraints, scars, non-sexual nudity, anxiety, panic attack, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, carewhumper

Master's man, Jerel, bound 023's wrists in front of him with coarse rope. 023's breath caught in his throat and every inch of him trembled. He was being sold. After everything Master had put him through, after the years of torture and abuse, after his final, desperate, escape attempt, Master was throwing him out. Like a toy that he had grown bored of.

"Cut that shit out," Jerel snapped. 023 tried to steady his breathing, he tried to stop the tears that were flowing down his face. Jerel grabbed 023's arm and hauled him up the stairs.

He led him through the house right to the door, opening it to reveal a calm, warm summer night. A carriage was waiting. Jerel settled himself on the seat and forced 023 onto his knees on the floor.

023 had a sudden flashback of the last time he was in a carriage. When he was first delivered into this hell. He couldn't suppress a strangled whimper of fright.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a bloodbag," Jerel said. He rapped on the ceiling and the carriage started to roll. "Radford knows that he won't come anywhere close to making a profit on you. He won't even break even. But he dosen't want to look at you anymore." He grabbed 023's chin. "You've really fucked up, 023. Radford can overlook many flaws, but he can't overlook disobedience."

"I-I'm sorry," 023 whispered.

Jerel rolled his eyes. "It's a little too late for that. Blood merchants are in town, so we're getting rid of you. Though I don't know if they'll even buy such an ugly fucker."

He leaned over and smiled at 023. "But if they do buy you, there's so many places you can be sent. I personally hope that you're sent to a university. The scientists there are always looking for fresh humans to experiment on. After all, test subjects don't last long."

"Or you might end up with another private owner. I'm sure you would like that. Another owner to disrespect. Most owners aren't as patient as Radford. I know if I was your owner, the first thing I'd do is cut out your tongue so I wouldn't have to listen to your pathetic pleas." 023 closed his eyes and swallowed the cry in his throat. "Wherever you end up, I hope that it hurts. That's what you deserve."

The carriage rolled to a stop. Jerel opened the door and gestured for 023 to follow. 023 struggled to his feet, his legs shaking so hard they could barely support his weight. Jerel grabbed 023's arm and led him toward a table.

"I have a human for you," he said. The vampire at the table had a bored expression.

"Strip it," he said.

023 didn't have a shirt, so Jerel grabbed his trousers and pulled them down. 023 felt a twinge of shame, but he was too scared to feel more than that.

The vampire behind the table stepped in front of 023. He grabbed his chin, turning his head left and right to examine his neck.

"What's with these wounds?" He asked, tapping on the long, twin scabs that ran from 023's ear to clavicle.

"He tried to escape, so his owner taught him a lesson," Jerel said.

The vampire's eyes narrowed. "Is that so? Have you learned your lesson, bloodbag?"

"Y-yes sir," 023 said shakily. "I won't try to run away again."

"Good. Open your mouth."

023 did as instructed. He barely stopped himself from flinching when the vampire reached his fingers into his mouth. He prodded at his gums.

"His teeth are good," the vampire murmured. He withdrew his fingers. "Unbind his wrists, I want to see them."

023 looked at the ground as his wrists were untied. The vampire grabbed his arm and looked at it. "Lots of feeding scars. That'll affect his value. And what's this brand?"

"Just his identification number, 023. He was surplus army property."

The vampire nodded. He walked around 023 in a slow circle.

"Any illness or major injuries?"

"He's had a few broken bones. All have healed well."

"How's the temperament?"

"He's not aggressive, but quite skittish. He's inclined to anxiousness. He's obedient though, for the most part."

The vampire sighed.

"I'll offer you 500 for him."

"500!" Jerel sputtered. "That's ridiculous. He's worth at least 2,000."

"There's no profit at that price. Best case scenario, I get 1,500 when I sell him to a dealer. Worse case, I get 300 at a blood butcher. All the scars show how much he's used up. Nobody wants to pay that much money for used goods."

023 eyes burned with tears of humiliation.

"I can't let him go for 500. He's still in his twenties, there're plenty of years left in him. 1,400?"

"I'll take him off your hands for 1,000. As a favor. Take it or leave it."

"Fine. It's a deal." They shook hands.

"Get dressed," the vampire said. 023 pulled up his trousers and wrapped his arms around himself. The vampires discussed the details of the sale, but he wasn't really listening. Master didn't want him, the merchant didn't expect to make any money on him. He really was a worthless, pathetic bloodbag.

"Come with me," the vampire ordered. 023 followed him to a wooden building. He opened the doors and walked in. 023 followed, and immediately his eyes watered from the stench of unwashed bodies. In the dimness, he could just make the huddled shapes of about a dozen humans. The vampire led him to a wall. "Kneel." 023 knelt and the vampire pulled on a metal chain attached to the wall. 023 let the vampire clamp the shackles around his wrists. Without another word, he left.

...

The ride to Tervis was bumpy and uneventful. Now, 023 sat in a room with all the other humans waiting to be sold. This was an invitation-only sale where those involved in the blood industry came to buy humans. There were vampires who made human food, like bakers, in attendance, as well as those who ran blood cafes, or had their own private human selling businesses. 023 hadn't known there were so many vampires involved in the human business, but he guessed it made sense.

"I heard that the blood butchers are the worst," one of the humans whispered. 023 hadn't bothered to learn names. There wasn't any point. "You're kept drugged on venom and bled every single day. Most humans don't last more than a month. The blood butchers come around at the end of the sale and buy up whoever is left for a discount."

023's chest tightened. He didn't want to go to a blood butcher. Or the university. He didn't want to be hurt anymore. He had overheard one of the humans talking about how some humans were purchased by vampire business owners to help out with various tasks, in addition as acting at bloodbags. That sounded nice. If he was expected to work, his new master probably wouldn't beat him too badly.

The dealer, Denis, approached with a well-dressed vampire and a human. The human looked ... good. They were clean, with well-maintained clothes. A leather collar encircled their neck.

"As you can see ma'am, we have a wide variety of humans for you to select from. Any of them would be an excellent addition to your bakery." 023 sat up a little straighter. The vampire baker looked kind. He would gladly work for her.

"What do you think, sweet?" She asked her human. "Do you see anybody you'd like to work with?"

Her human bit their lip. Their eyes swept over the humans, until they landed on 023. His heart skipped a beat. He locked eyes with them, silently pleading. Please. But they gave a tiny shake of their head and moved on to the rest of the line. 023 muffled a sob. He didn't know what he'd done wrong. The baker's human picked someone else, and 023 didn't have the heart to watch as they walked away.

023's stomach was twisted with fear. The night would be over soon, and he still hadn't been sold. He didn't want to be bought by a blood butcher, he didn't want to be bled to death.

Every muscle in his body tensed as Denis approached with another vampire. Was this the blood butcher?

"As you can see, Rackham," Denis said, "we have plenty of humans to choose from. This one right here has never been bitten."

Rackham nodded. "My clients like fresh humans. Do you have any others?"

023 deflated. This vampire was probably some sort of human dealer or cafe owner. Of course he wouldn't go for a scarred human.

"That's it?" Rackham asked. "I was hoping to get a couple more. If you don't have any other fresh ones, bitten is fine. As long as the temperament is good." 023 felt a spark of hope.

Denis nodded and pointed out a two other humans. "And then we have this one," Denis gestured at 023. "He's obedient but has fits of anxiety. I'll give you a discount on him."

Rackham looked at 023. 023's palms sweated and it took all his strength to stop his body from trembling. Rackham walked over to him and crouched down. His looked over 023 from head to toe.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you?" he said softly.

023's throat was dry but he forced himself to nod. He couldn't contain his shaking anymore. Fuck. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Rackham was saying something, but he couldn't hear him. He was dying. He couldn't breathe and he was dying and he was going to be hurt-

A hand landed on his shoulder. He snapped his eyes up to Rackham. "Ple-please sir," he gasped. "Please don't hurt me."

"You're okay, I'm not gonna hurt you," Rackham said.

"I'm sorry," Denis said. "I have a couple other options for you-"

"No, I'll take this one," Rackham interrupted. "Thank you."

023 stared at Rackham with wide eyes. His heart pounded and tears coursed down his cheeks. The panic attack had him fully in his clutches.

"Are you sure?" Denis asked.

"Yes," Rackham said decisively, standing up. "He seems like a sweet human. I'm sure that once he's settled in with an owner his anxiety will calm down."

023 could barely comprehend what was happening. But as his panic dulled from a roar to a whisper, he realized that Rackham and Denis were shaking hands.

Rackham had bought four other humans in addition to 023. Denis secured each humans wrists before leading them to Rackham's waiting cart. 023 stumbled as he followed the others.

"Woah there," Rackham said, grabbing him around the waist before he fell to the ground. 023 suddenly found he didn't have the strength to stand. He went limp in Rackham's arms, struggling to stay conscious.

"Poor thing. Let's get you to your new home."

Taglist: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik

@neverthelass @whumpsy-daisy @the-monarch-whumperfly

@aswallowimprisoned @secretwhumplair @whumpzone

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @nicolepascaline @susiequaz12

@itsleelove @pumpkin-spice-whump @wiwinia

@sunflower1000 @whump-blog @melancholy-in-the-morning

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpsday @ceph-the-ghost-writer

@inkkswhumpandstuff @whumpycries @darlingwhump

@whumpshaped @dragonqueenslayer6

Ask to be added or removed!

[whump-in-the-closet]

“Tell me, what do you fear?”

The vampire entered the basement loudly.

Their human swayed suspended from the ceiling, clothes torn and hair matted. They opened one eye— the other swollen shut. Their toes barely brushed against the floor.

The vampire grinned and set down her coffee on the bloodstained counter, next to a pair of pliers.

“Hello again.”

The human’s breathing was ragged, like each breath was painful. “Leech,” they said with a small gasp. Talking was also painful.

The vampire ran her hand over her tools but didn’t pick any up. “Is that how you address me? If you had any fingernails left, I’d take them.”

The human, despite their defiance, flinched. They didn’t doubt it. Their hands were crusted with dried blood.

“I—”

The vampire grabbed their shoulders and sent them spinning before they could finish talking.

“I like it better when you’re quiet,” she said.

“You think you’re so scary?” The human only saw glimpses of the vampire as they spun, but they spat the words out all the same. “You don’t scare me.”

The vampire yanked their head back, stopping them mid spin. They cried out, head tilted at an awkward angle and shoulders tight. Their neck was exposed, two red marks swollen and bruised.

The vampire leaned down, teeth bared.

The human shuddered, panic suddenly bright in their eyes. “Wait— wait p-please—”

The vampire saw the terror and grinned. “Tell me,” she hissed in the human’s ear, “What do you fear?”

The human bit back a sob, all defiance gone. “You. You’re a monster.”

She laughed softly. “And you’re a pest.” She bit down and the human sobbed.

[dragonfireridge]

Livestock

Part 2

@whumpsday

The vampire doesn't grab him, doesn't beat him, doesn't choke him.

The human can't help but be absolutely, utterly confused.

Why? That's all he can think about. Why, why, why?

The vampire turns, and the human's heart beat just stops.

Impossible. 

And yet, it happened.

The human had said the word out loud.

Bellamy turns back to face the human, eyebrows furrowed with sadness. Still, he's glad the human is speaking to him.

"I'm sorry you've been subject to such cruelty in your time here," he says softly. "There will be no violence in my home. You are safe here. I can bring you back to human territory, should you like. Though it would have to wait for tomorrow night if I'm to make it back before sunrise. Would you like that, dear? To go home?"

The human almost laughs outright.

What home was left for him?

It didn't matter, anyway--it never did.

The human's owners would most certainly come after him.

Well... he's not entirely sure, who his owners are anymore. Either way, he can barely remember his life before the vampires. It seems like existence is nothing but constant pain and darkness. 

The human doesn't know why the vampire (who said he called himself a Bellamy. What's a Bellamy?) is even asking. But he knows his new owner is expecting an answer.

Sullenly, he shakes his head.

Bellamy is surprised by the answer, but tries not to let it show. "That is alright as well. You may stay here as long as you wish. No harm will come to you."

It occurs to Bellamy that this human has to be thirsty—and hungry, too. Heaven knew what they feed them in the farms, but Bellamy guesses it isn’t the best.

Crossing the room, he goes to the sink and fills a glass, returning to the crate and holding it out. "Here you are, have some water."

The human is utterly grateful. This is something he understands.

Deep inside, his stomach always aches with hunger, and his throat is always dry. But this? Extra food or water is a treat--and a treat to be savored at that.

Eagerly, he snatches the water, and happily drinks the whole thing. A faint smile crosses

 his face when he's done.

"There we go, dear, what a lovely smile you have." Bellamy smiles back, mouth closed. Careful not to bare his fangs. "Would you like to come out now? I could show you to a guest room, and get that garish thing off your face so you could have a meal. It would surely be more comfortable."

The human can't help but whimper. He isn't sure what this... Bellamy is talking about.  What's a guest room? What's a garish?

It doesn't matter. He knows what the vampire wants.

It hurts his heart. Feeling like he's being stabbe physically, he shakily climbs out of his crate, kneels in the appropriate positon, and bares his neck to the side. Silently, he looks down at the floor--he hopes this vamprie is one of the nicer ones.

[oddsconvert]

I'm due to donate blood later and I feel like it's going to put me in a very whumpy vampire bloodbag mentality 👀👀👀 we shall see (and hope)

[deluxewhump]

Nightfall

When the moon is in the ditch and the hour is none

A bloodbag must remain useful to a vampire.

CW: vampire and bloodbag, recent kidnapping (by other vampires), very light blood drinking, comfort and reassurance, fluffy vampire content, platonic hand and forehead kiss

There was a time he would have been indescribably relieved that a vampire showed no interest in feeding from him.

Now it was a source of unease. Carlo could not get through a night without a strong sense of uselessness. It had been several weeks since Erik took him, and he and his revolving door of friends and followers had made him their chewtoy again.

He was grateful that Maxim took him back at all. But this prolonged period of abstinence was agonizing to him now. It was just past eight when he worked up the courage to offer himself— an hour that in the dead of winter was indistinguishable from midnight. Outside, snowdrifts climbed the house’s exterior, and icicles as long as five feet had formed in the eaves.

“I’m ready now,” he said as casually as he could. “If you’d like.”

“There’s no rush,” said the vampire, whose nonchalance was more convincing than his own. “And you need to recover.”

“I am recovered.”

“Physically, maybe,” Maxim said. He was copying a pile of letters, yellowed and cracked with time, into a document on a laptop. The light from the screen made the reflective sheen of his eyes more noticeable than usual, like shining a light at an animal in the dark. “Your bruising hasn’t even had time to fade yet.”

“I still need to do my job.”

He kept on typing. “Why?”

“Because it’s why I’m here. What good am I to you just freeloading? Why am I here if I am not being fed from?”

The vampire stopped typing and turned to him. “So I can feed from you later.”

Carlo stared wordlessly. It was uncharacteristically direct of him to put it that way.

“You’re thinking of this on your own timeline, not mine,” he continued. “It’s only been three weeks. You’re rattled. You try to hide it but I can hear it. And why wouldn’t you be? You’re not going to be discarded or replaced because of a few months of recovery. What’s a few months to me, do you think?”

He knew he’d lost, but he answered to be polite. “Like how a few nights is to me, I guess.”

“Exactly. Come.”

Carlo obeyed and curled up next to him. He was heatless but solid, inhuman and yet adept at all the motions with which humans show affection to one another. He tilted Carlo’s face in his hands and kissed the crown of his head. “I enjoy your company, too, you know. You’re not a vending machine.”

“I have good dual use as a lapdog, Erik says,” he said darkly.

Maxim sighed. “My maker has a way of perverting even the simplest pleasures in life. A gift he’s always had.”

“Do other vampires do this?” Carlo asked, resting himself against Maxim. “With their humans?”

“Plenty do. There’s as much variety in those relationships as there is in human ones.”

“I really feel fine. It’s just the bruises that are left.”

“I almost think you enjoy being turned down.”

“I do not, no,” Carlo answered, not entirely without humor.

“If you insist, I’ll show you a trick.”

Carlo turned to look at him. “Okay.”

Maxim smiled. “Your trust is flattering. Give me your hand.”

He did.

“Just a pinch,” said the vampire, and nicked the tip of his index finger with the scalpel tip of a concealed fang. Carlo flinched lightly, but did not pull away. Just a finger prick, he thought. Anxiety swelled in him but subsided when he reminded himself whose arms he was in. The vampire squeezed his hand until a red drop of blood pooled at the tip of his finger. He put his mouth over it in a swift but gentle motion and the blood was gone.

Carlo was skeptical. “Does that do anything? A drop?”

“Think of it like drag off someone else’s cigarette,” the vampire said with a grin.

“You did that to shut me up.”

“Yes, little mortal, I did.” The creature kissed the back of his hand and gave it back to him. “Now be quiet about it or I’ll give you nine more sore fingers before I feed from you properly again.”

[hyper-real-hedgehog]

vampire whump but a twist i havent seen be done yet

Whumpee has experienced both being a bloodbag and being a vampire tortured by hunters

what i have so far

Whumpee has been kept captive by vampire Whumper for years, and eventually hunters are aware of a particularly dangerous (both powerful and cruel) vampire at that location, Whumper finds out hunters are after them and decides to turn Whumpee, leaving them as bait before leaving the area

the hunters find what looks like a weak, scared, confused and freshly turned vampire, but they were told 'one of the most dangerous vampires in this country is here' and assume Whumpee is playing a trick on them, and hey if the vampire isnt gonna resist, easier for us, so Whumpee is taken to the hunter base

usual 'vampire Whumpee tortured by hunters' plays out

maybe eventually after Whumpee either escapes or gets rescued it turns out Whumper ended up captured by another hunter guild and was also being tortured all this time, after Whumpee takes time to heal and get to full vampire strength they set up a rescue and the usual 'whumpee turned cretaker to a whumper turned whumpee' scenario happens

as for vampire powers im thinking

each vampire aside from immortality and superhuman strength could have a different special skill (kinda like in twilight but without the sparkling*)

*speaking of which, the sun: very painful, prolonger exposure will incapacitate them, but also not deadly (only a stake through the heart can kill them, they also dont age after being turned)

like i said, turning is a thing here but theres probably still born vampires/dhampirs, those would age normally up to ~18-20 and then stay like that forever, there might be conflict between born and turned vampires about which is the better/right kind

thats it for now i think

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

cw vampire whumper, conditioned whumpee, past nonconsensual blood drinking

"Why do you keep letting them do this to you?" Caretaker asked, eyes narrowing at the fresh bite mark on Whumpee's neck. Subtle bruising surrounded the puncture wounds.

Whumpee frowned, quickly tugging the collar of their shirt to cover the mark. "I'm—it's not really a big deal."

Caretaker sighed. "I hate seeing you like this. You keep getting paler and thinner and...quieter. I keep wondering how long it will be before there's nothing left of you."

"It's not like that," Whumpee insisted. "Whumper isn't hurting me. And besides, did you ever consider that maybe I like what they do to me?"

They didn't tell Caretaker how they used to wail and thrash against Whumper's hold, before they understood their place. Before Whumper taught them how incredible it was to provide for someone else with your very life force.

Whumpee didn't tell Caretaker that underneath their clothes, their body was littered with bruises and bite marks. Some were old and fading, others were fresh and still sore, but each of them was a claim Whumper had made on them.

And they didn't tell Caretaker that some nights Whumper would take too much when they fed, leaving Whumpee drained and lightheaded as their blood soaked the bedsheets. They would wake up in Whumper's arms the next day, disoriented and achy, with gentle praises whispered in their ear. "I like seeing you this way," Whumper would murmur. "All dumb and empty-headed. How a good little human is meant to be."

Whumpee didn't tell Caretaker any of this; they wouldn't understand. They didn't explain that the more Whumper fed from them—owned them—the easier it got.

"How could you possibly enjoy being treated that way?" Caretaker asked softly.

Whumpee shrugged and looked away. "I don't know. Whumper makes me feel...needed. I guess that's the part I enjoy the most."