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God this is beautiful

Bloodbag!carlo breaking something or majorly messing up in some way and being certain that this time, now, today, maxim will finally be angry with him, .. but he isn’t (or he is? can’t decide. i just want carlo terrified)

Maxim heard the crash from the other room. It didn’t startle him, though looking back he supposed it ought to have. He followed the source of the sound, coming upon the quite unfamiliar scene of the mortal— his mortal, he reminded himself fondly— in the kitchen. He was standing next to a broken pitcher. It had been a heavy, half a century century old thing made of sturdy glass but had met its end this evening on the cold slate tile of the floor.

Carlo looked from the shards. He was holding his hands slightly out in front of his body as if he had tried to catch it and failed to move since. To make matters worse, the pitcher had been half filled with pomegranate juice, dark as blood. It had spattered on impact, dotting the walls and staining the floor, even splashing Carlo’s new clothes.

Max raised his eyebrows at the mess. It was honestly impressive. Of all the things to drop, Carlo had the luck to drop a glass pitcher filled with purple-red juice. He almost laughed, but at that moment the boy dropped to his knees swiftly and gracefully, bending his head to the ground and picking up shards with trembling fingers. He gathered them in a little pile in front of his knees, now wet with juice.

“Carlo,” Maxim chastised. He went to take Carlo’s arm but the boy shrank back from him, as if expecting a blow or to be grabbed up roughly from the floor.

Max paused, retreating back a step. “Stop that,” he said instead. “We’ll get a broom for the glass. Don’t touch another piece.”

Carlo’s hands stilled at the order. He was staring at his small pile of glass, reluctant to look up.

“I’ll clean it, Sir,” he said in a strained voice. “Please, I’ll—“

They both noticed as the dark juice crept towards an antique runner of blues and dark greens. It began to stain that too, ruining the rug’s lighter colors. Carlo made a pitiful sound, shaking visibly.

Maxim had enough. He stepped over the broken shards and pulled his bloodbag to his unsteady feet. “You’re alright,” he told him, holding him like he did when he fed from him. The mortal sobbed in his arms, tense as a spring. Max shushed into his hair, like a child who’s had a nightmare. It had been a long time since he’d been in such close proximity with mortals. His affection for this one was seemingly endless.

“You’re alright, earth angel,” he soothed. “Why are you so frightened? Is it of me?”

The boy hesitated a long while, but then shook his head shyly against Maxim's shoulder. Yes. Max felt a pang of regret that the boy had been dropped half-alive at Erik’s door, and not his to begin with. He would’ve taken him in, he was sure of it. Even without Erik’s coaxing, there was something about this one he could not leave alone.

“I’m sorry,” the mortal boy whispered so desperately from his arms. “I’ll clean it… I’ll get it out of the rug. Please…”

Max tilted Carlo’s head back enough so he could look him in the eyes. Such expressive, dark eyes. He’d seen them full of trust, low and sedated, even a little curious once or twice now. But tonight they were full of pain, pain so familiar to him it had become muscle memory.

“I came to see if you were hurt. I don’t care about a rug.” He said it like he had some long standing disdain for that rug in particular, though he’d always liked it.

The funny thing about bloodbags— they could be terrified of their vampire keepers and still cling to them, still try and win their favor. They often knew it was the only hand they had left to play. But he wanted this one to know he was a favorite. Loved. He had many hands to play. Max thumbed a tear from his soft cheek.

“Are you alright? Did you cut yourself?”

Carlo blinked, caught off guard. The thought had not occurred to him.

Max pulled away to examine the boy's long fingers, his prominent knuckles and juice stained palms. “As long as you’re alright,” he said, and gave him back his hands. “I’ll help you fix this up.”

“No,” Carlo stammered, horrified. “I mean, I’ll do it. Its my fault. Please.”

Maxim shook his head. “I have to make sure you don’t damage my valuables.” He raised his eyebrows and gave the boy's shoulder a nudge as if to say “that’s you.”

A rush of blood glowed pink in Carlo’s face. Maxim couldn’t help but think of feeding from him later, telling him again that he was the only thing in this house he would be wounded by the loss of.

.(taglist)

@thecyrulik @wildlywhumping @kim-poce @puffball-lover554 @nicolepascaline @onyxeverett @firminfollowing @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @inpainandsuffering @melancholy-in-the-morning @pumpkin-spice-whump @afabulousmrtake @whumpy-writings @mylifeisonthebookshelf @nicolepascaline @wolfeyedwitch @top-hat-aye @suspicious-whumping-egg @haro-whumps @adventurous-agender-apricot @harri-00 @whumpforfree @ramadiiiisme

[whump-only]

[whump-only]

braiding hair

Just pure fluff (and a small dash of angst). Guppy (finally) gets to live with Misha. 

CW: slavery universe, touch starvation 

-----------------

“Elliot!” Misha called. 

Elliot’s heart raced every time Misha called him, even though he knew he wasn’t in trouble, even when he knew why he was being summoned. Elliot set down his tea and shuffled over to Misha’s bedroom. 

Misha was there, sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. I love you, Elliot thought, so hard he clenched his teeth. Elliot had wanted to be Misha’s since that first day, but he’d only dared to pray for it months later. He of course kicked himself for not asking God sooner. But such astoundingly good luck, it just didn’t feel right to believe it could happen. It was utterly painful, almost unbearable, hoping for this, when he was at the farm. Guppy could barely stand Misha then, for how heartsick it made him. How so utterly and helplessly he needed Misha. 

Elliot leaned on the bed, to lower himself to the floor. It still made him redden just to be close to Misha, to be so casual. To see him in pajama pants. Elliot put his weight into his arms, wincing at the bend of his bad leg. 

“How’s the leg?” Misha noticed. 

“S’okay. Didn’t hurt bad this morning, I got through breakfast fine.” Elliot had had to lean himself into the sink a few times, to take the weight off of his leg that punished him for every minute he stood. Elliot was just grateful Misha didn’t see him like that, draped over the counter, dry heaving. Misha would’ve made a big deal of it. But Elliot liked standing. It made him feel like he could be useful, still. And not like the tremendous burden he knew he was. 

“I-It feels good to sit, though.” Elliot leaned back into Misha’s knees. 

Misha shifted up to the edge of the mattress, allowing Elliot between his thighs, and Elliot closed his eyes. 

Misha took the strands of Elliot’s hair in his hands. This was real. Misha’s fingers gently pulled the pieces of hair taught around each other. There was no better feeling than having your hair braided, Elliot was sure. 

“What’d you make today?” Misha asked. 

“Potatoes, eggs, and toast with butter,” Elliot replied. 

“My favorite,” Misha said. Because that’s what he always said, no matter what Elliot made. 

“Hair tie,” Misha said, and Elliot handed it upwards, leaving it partially rolled onto his fingers so Misha would have to touch them to take it. Elliot’s hair now touched his shoulders, his braid reached the base of his neck. Guppy was never allowed to wear it this long. Elliot wouldn’t cut it, not ever, so it’d grow longer and longer and Misha’d have to sit here for an extra minute in the morning, to braid it all the way. Elliot felt greed flare in his belly. 

Misha put his hand on Elliot’s head, signaling it was done. As always, Elliot felt the urge to do something stupid and bad, like grabbing Misha’s leg or refusing to move, so that Misha’s attention could be on him for a few minutes, seconds longer. But Elliot scooted forward so that Misha could get up. 

The injury of their morning moment ending, and the rabidness this inspired, soon faded. Elliot could now look forward to it again, tomorrow. 

---

the one and only tag list: @deluxewhump @eatyourdamnpears @newbornwhumperfly @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@whoopsalittlewhumpy @library-albino-whumpee @pumpkin-spice-whump @crystalquartzwhump

#guppy and misha #slavery #whump writing #fluff #guppy is FERAL for misha #especially in early rescue

[whump-only]

too rough

In an AU where Lorelei is a vampire and Guppy is his blood bag. Lorelei goes too far, but then makes up for it (not really though, come on). 

CW: non-con kissing, flesh wounds, blood, slavery-esque dynamic between vampire and human, blunt trauma, non-sexual nudity

---------------------

Guppy woke up to Lorelei’s whistle. He jumped to his feet. Between the slit in the heavy curtains, the world was lightening, it was late. He hurried to meet his master at the front door. 

The lights were off everywhere in the house but Guppy could tell Lorelei was in the kitchen by the way the air chilled as he got closer. Run away, a little voice still told him. His steps slowed but he walked through that hazy fear, all the way up to the threshold, until his legs stopped, not allowing him to get closer. Some days he could come right into the monster’s arms, but today it too menacing, too dark in the house, too dark in the spot where Lorelei was standing. Guppy didn’t dare look up to see  the vampire’s eyes reflect in the darkness. It would make his knees buckle. 

Run. Run. Instead, Guppy gripped the threshold, willing himself to not step back as Lorelei neared. The chase, the resistance, made Lorelei more feral, and the memory of Lorelei ripping the limbs off of a stray human in the alleyway would arise unbidden in Guppy’s mind, frequently. 

“Slow today, little bunny,” Lorelei said, an observation on Guppy’s arrival.

Guppy swallowed, unsure if he’d triggered his master’s cruel anger. “Apologies sir,” Guppy whispered as Lorelei leaned in to inhale his human’s scent, and Guppy knew the vampire could hear the hammering heart beat in his neck. He’s drunk, Guppy noticed with dread. 

Lorelei wrapped his clawed fingers so gently around Guppy’s neck that being pulled forward then slammed into the wall came as a total surprise. Guppy’s head spun so badly that by the time the static cleared from his vision, his shirt was already torn open, Lorelei’s teeth were already sunken into his shoulder. 

Guppy whimpered from the pain of this suck, his master’s fangs were in deep and he was drinking a lot. He felt dizzied. Lorelei held down Guppy’s arms, pinning him tighter than usual, his claws pricking. 

Lorelei’s mouth seemed to tighten, teeth digging into flesh more deeply. “Ow. Ow!” Guppy gasped in surprise.

Lorelei started biting down. “Ow, master— ah! AAH!” Guppy screamed. 

Lorelei clenched his jaw tighter. “Ah! Ah! Master!—“ Guppy now used his free arm to push into Lorelei, but his body was unyielding. Lorelei growled and jerked his head, dragging his fangs. Ripping. Guppy shrieked. Lorelei released only to bite down, again. As blood gushed out of his shoulder, Guppy realized Lorelei didn’t care that the blood was being wasted, covering the floor. This is it. He’s gonna kill me. 

“Augh,” Guppy managed. It hurt. Guppy’s vision darkened around the edges. 

Lorelei finally released the bite. Below Lorelei’s glassy eyes, his face was covered in slick, bright blood. Guppy registered that his whole shirt was heavy with blood, wet. 

One of Lorelei’s hands whipped up to grip Guppy’s chin. Lorelei leaned in and began roughly kissing Guppy’s lips. Guppy tasted his own blood, felt it smearing against his skin. Guppy knew to ‘kiss back’ but it was impossible to focus, waves of pain kept hitting him that forced him to whimper and he could hardly stand and he couldn’t breathe. 

Finally Lorelei pulled away. The vampire smiled, showing bloodied teeth. When Lorelei let go, Guppy slumped down to the floor instantly. He hadn’t been holding his own weight after all. Lorelei walked off. 

Owww. Guppy moved to hold his ripped shoulder with his other hand, but blood flowed out from under anyway. He could feel his heartbeat through his shoulder which was surely a bad sign. Ow. Ow. Ow. 

He was vaguely aware of himself sliding into laying down. His head was on the linoleum, hair in blood. Gonna clean that, he thought. If I survive. 

Guppy passed out.  

-------------------

Guppy spent the day on the linoleum, drained of strength and drifting in and out of shallow sleep that was disrupted by his throbbing shoulder. 

The kitchen lights flicked on and Guppy was instantly awake but not so sure of where he was, having been snapped out of a feverish dream. 

“Hello sunshine.”

Lorelei. Guppy gagged in fear. 

Lorelei stood over him, blocking out the ceiling light. Guppy cowered, shuddering uselessly. There was nowhere to crawl to now. 

Lorelei crouched down. The vampire was clean of blood and in work clothes—it must be past sunset—

Lorelei grabbed Guppy’s shirt in a fist, and in a swift, unbroken movement he lifted Guppy up to his feet and then plopped him into a kitchen chair. Guppy gasped from the pain of being jostled, his shoulder throbbing with fresh intensity. 

Lorelei traced a finger along Guppy’s jaw and Guppy obediently looked up into Lorelei’s eyes.

Lorelei grinned. “Hah. Look at your face.”

Guppy frowned, self conscious. 

Lorelei leaned in close. “Blood around your mouth. Just like a vampire.” Lorelei licked across Guppy’s mouth. Surprised by the gross, slimy action, Guppy shrunk away, but Lorelei tightly gripped Guppy’s hair, and kept licking over Guppy’s tightly closed lips. Guppy rigidly cringed until Lorelei had licked the dry blood off of his face. 

“All clean.” Lorelei smiled wanly to himself, no doubt entertained. 

Lorelei hooked a claw into the collar of Guppy’s shirt, tugging. “Alright. Let’s check the damage then, yeah?” Lorelei ran a sharp talon down the fabric, ripping it open down the front, completing its destruction. Lorelei pulled the pieces down off of Guppy’s shoulders. Guppy cringed at this nakedness, regretting the disappearance of that last layer between his breakable chest and the vampire. 

Lorelei was engrossed looking at Guppy’s shoulder. Guppy gave it a glance and deeply regretted it. There, the skin was ripped and discolored and dotted with deep punctures. Guppy winced. 

“Poor bunny,” Lorelei cooed. “I was too rough wasn’t I? Hm?” 

Guppy nodded, yes. Lorelei had been too rough. This Lorelei, the nice one that appeared and disappeared without warning, was gentle and even doting, and Guppy knew to lean into these moments. It was the only kindness he got these days. 

 “I was so mean, biting like that. At least I didn’t break this,” Lorelei tapped a claw on Guppy’s collarbone. “That would’ve been bad, right?”

Guppy nodded solemnly. Very bad. Guppy dared to lean into Lorelei, bumping his head into Lorelei‘s stomach, and was rewarded with soft pets on his hair. 

“Can you move your fingers?” Lorelei asked. 

Guppy looked at his hand blankly and then showed it to Lorelei. 

“No silly,” Lorelei took the other hand, the one that hung from the injured shoulder. 

Guppy flexed his fingers, weakly wrapping them around Lorelei’s. It hurt, but he could still do it, he realized with unexpected relief. 

“Good good. Such a good boy. My sweet mortal.” Lorelei planted a kiss on Guppy’s head. 

Guppy was warmed by the softness, he couldn’t help it. He was tired. 

Lorelei pulled away and busied himself, pulling down a bowl, dumping Guppy’s oats into it, rummaging in various drawers. Guppy watched, not understanding but without the energy to stand, to offer to help like he knew he should. 

Lorelei proudly plopped the bowl of dry oats on the table. “Eat up. You need your strength.”

Guppy bit back a giggle. Lorelei’s thought that this was edible, never cared to notice Guppy making oatmeal for himself, adding water and warming it up. “Thank you sir.” Guppy spooned a symbolic couple of dry flakes in his mouth to suck on, and Lorelei seemed pleased. 

“I’ll give you stitches tonight. When I’m back from work,” Lorelei said cheerfully and Guppy nodded, too tired to register the horror of that. 

“But in the meantime, you’ll dress this up for me, yeah?” Lorelei motioned toward Guppy’s shoulder. 

“Yes sir,” Guppy replied. Of course he would do it. He always did. 

The door closed behind Lorelei and locked, from the outside, as usual. 

Guppy set his head on the table, thinking he could fall asleep right then and there. His eyes focused on the now-dried blood stains on the linoleum. He’d have to clean that, too. 

Before Lorelei gets home, he thought, before drifting into a nap. 

------------------

Tagging my sweet cheese, my good time bois: @deluxewhump @eatyourdamnpears @newbornwhumperfly @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whoopsalittlewhumpy @library-albino-whumpee @pumpkin-spice-whump @crystalquartzwhump

#slavery #master/pet #whump writing #guppy and misha #guppy lorelei arc #blood #trauma #vampire whump #lorelei is like humans like these dry flakes right? #noncon #non-con

[whump-only]

part 2 of a fanfic for @deluxewhump’s Cam and Zee, in an AU where the frat boys are vampires. part 1 here. =)

cw: starvation, universe where humans are owned by vampires, physical abuse, broken bone mention

--------------------------

Cam peeled open the can of human food. It smelled horrid and was about as appetizing as mud. But he supposed he remembered eating shit like this when he was human. 

Cam set the can and the water bottle down near Z, who hadn’t shifted from his spot.  

Cam sat Z up but he drooped like some rag doll, totally boneless. Humans were so disgustingly fragile, so easy to rend apart. Cam held Z up by the collar, then brought the water up to his lips. “Drink it, dumb dumb.”

Z of course didn’t respond, so Cam tipped the water back. Much of it dribbled down Z’s chin then his bare chest, or onto the floor. But some of it must’ve gone in, because Z’s mouth moved and he coughed. He then coughed a few more times and opened his eyes, just a crack. 

“The princess wakes!” Cam said. 

Z just stared forward dully, shivered. Cam realized he didn’t know if humans preferred to be warmer. That it might be too cold for him in the house. 

“Eat this,” Cam commanded, putting the can up to Z’s face. 

Z grimaced, leaned away. 

“What! Don’t you like this shit?” Cam double checked the can to make sure it was human stuff. “Eat!” Cam insisted but Z kept turning his head. 

“Stupid human.” Cam plunged his fingers into the can, pulling out a glob of the food. 

He then pressed the chunk up to Z’s lips. “Yummy. Eat your cat food.”

Z gingerly sucked a bit off so Cam pressed some more into his teeth until he nibbled more. That’s more like it. Cam took more of the food, holding it up to Z’s mouth until he nibbled it off. 

“Do the freshman feed you?” Cam asked. 

Z paused, furrowed his eyebrows like it was a hard question. He couldn’t seem to keep his head up. “Is Alex… a freshman?” 

Cam scoffed. “No, he’s not.” Of course Alex would do that. He was so high and mighty about protecting the human, as if that made him better. It was so pathetic and annoying that it made Cam want to slit Z’s throat right in front of that asshole, just to see his reaction. 

Z closed his eyes again, listed to the side. 

“Hey! No!” Cam lightly slapped Z’s face. “No more napping. You gotta eat up. Here. Drink more.” Cam handed Z the water bottle. 

Z took the water bottle and seemed to consider it in his lap before bringing it up and chugging it down noisily, crinkling it as it collapsed. 

Cam grinned. “That’s it, Zee Zee.” 

That’s when it came to him. Cam would keep Z in his room, to piss off Alex. And even better, Alex wouldn’t even be able to complain because Cam would do such a better job saving Z2. It was brilliant. 

Cam pressed the can into Z’s palm. “Make a dent in this. I’ll be right back.” 

———

Cam returned, having found his prize after rifling through all his drawers. He was so glad he insisted on keeping one of the keys to Z2’s padlock. 

Z was laying down again. 

“Hey! Lounging, princess?” Cam scolded. 

“…Nno. Eating,” Z insisted, indicating toward the can that lay by his face. 

Cam grabbed the can and couldn’t tell if anything additional had been scraped out of it. 

Cam placed his heel on Z’s arm. “You’re gonna regret bullshitting me, ya know? I’m trying to help your stupid ass.”

“I’m not. I swear. Really,” Z said, voice breaking on the last word. “Please Sir.”

Cam sighed, jerked Z2 upright, ignoring his wince. Cam jammed the key into the lock that attached the chain to Z’s collar, until it clicked open. Z’s eyes followed the chain as it slipped off, fell heavily onto the floor. 

Cam hooked his fingers under the collar. “Get up. We’re going upstairs.”

Z grimaced. “Oh—ugh. I don’t think I can—”

“I know we said you’re not allowed. But I say it’s fine so it’s fine.” Cam yanked Z up to his knees.

“Ah!— Urk—“ Z grabbed his collar with both hands. “Wait—wait—My ankle, ah! AH!” Z shrieked. 

The noise startled Cam so much that he let go of Z, who dropped to the floor with a thud. “Shut it!” Cam hissed, but Z had already slapped a hand over his mouth.

The human had gone pale, shivery. He was boring like this, so fussy and unappetizing.  Cam noticed, one of his ankles was all wrapped up, and a bit of purple coloring bloomed from the edges of the bandages. 

“What’s wrong with you,” Cam growled. 

“I, um. Someone broke my ankle. I think,” Z squeaked. 

“When?” Cam replied. 

“At the party…” Z breathed.

Z had been unchained then, handed around. Made to crawl. Cam felt heat in his chest, he could imagine Z being tossed to the feet of the wrong vampire at the wrong time. “Who did it?”

Z grimaced. “Don’t know.”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll carry you then,” Cam said. 

Cam crouched and Z drew back, with a small gasp. Scared? Cam smiled broadly, flashing his fangs. It had the intended effect as Z’s eyes widened. Cam thought he could hear the human’s heartbeat in his throat. 

Cam picked up Z off the ground effortlessly, and the way he rigidly hung from Cam’s grip made Cam laugh. Cam swung Z onto his back, piggy back style. 

“Hold tight,” he commanded, but it was useless. Z clearly couldn’t hold on for his life. So Cam held his arms tightly, so he wouldn’t fall off. 

Cam went up the stairs. He kind-of liked the weight of the human on his back. Humans were warm. That’s what was good about them. 

#abuse #starvation #broken bone #vampire whump #whump fic #i love that cam wants to spite alex but also secretly impress him heheh

[whump-only]

part 2 of this. tagging @whumpsday <3

cw: dehumanization, healing of stabbing wound, magical exhaustion, abandonment 

-----------------

Pet’s magic slowly wove the fibers in Hero’s leg back together. The wound was very deep, and it was taking all the energy Pet had. Though his body ached, Pet only paused to wipe sweat off of his forehead with his arm. 

Hero stirred, their eyes finally flicking open. “Mmmrrugh. Ugh. Ow. Oww, god.”

Thank the stars, Pet thought. He hadn’t been too late. The stupid Hero would live. 

Hero watched in awe at the golden glow underneath Pet’s palms. “You’re a healer?” Their head whipped around. “Wait. Where—where’s Villain?”

“He’s gone, for now. He’s gonna let you leave,” Pet informed them. 

“Gone where?” Hero replied. “Wait… let me leave?”

“Yes. That’s what I said,” Pet hissed, surprised at how mean it came out. 

“God. I really thought that was the end!” Hero marveled and then laughed so loud that the joyful sound rang throughout the hall. 

Pet bristled. Yeah, because you almost died! I had to save you! Idiot! Pet growled, “You shouldn’t have come here. You can’t kill him. Nobody can.”

Hero got serious again. “I’m sorry I lost. I won’t lose next time.”

Pet was floored. He stopped his magic. “Next time?! Next time?! No! What are you thinking? I just, I just—” Pet waved his hands in disbelief, then grabbed Hero’s shirt collar. “Do not come back here. Ever. Ever!”

Hero looked surprised. Pet shook them, willing them to have some sense. “Promise me. Please. You won’t come back. Please.” Pet’s voice wavered. 

“I can’t leave you here,” Hero said flatly. 

Pet shook with rage. Hero was going to throw his life away again? “Are you stupid! You want to die!? I’m trying to help you and you’re being a—an—a stupid asshole! Don’t you—”

“—Hey,” Hero interrupted, firmly. “I won’t come back. Okay?”

Pet breathed, staring at Hero. Hero had beautiful, calm brown eyes, a fine face. 

“Promise?” Pet asked. 

“Promise,” Hero replied. 

“Good.” Pet relaxed, returned his hands to Hero’s leg. It was almost done. Soon the skin would pull back together as well. 

Moments of silence passed between them. Hero was tense, his breathing labored. Yes, it was painful, Pet knew. Hero must be quite tough, to endure this without a sound. 

“Why’s he letting me leave?” Hero asked. 

Pet licked his lips. The horror of his deal with Villain had not yet sunk in yet. “I asked nicely.”

“Thanks, kid. You saved my life. It was supposed to be the other way around,” Hero said sincerely. 

Pet wasn’t a kid. But he couldn’t help but feel soft at the comment. “It’s… it’s fine,” Pet replied, suddenly quite sad. “Just— just don’t come back.”

“What’s the name of my rescuer?” Hero asked. 

Ouch. The question was an unexpected twist to his heart. It had been so long since Pet had spoken to anyone other than Master, let alone so casually. Pet had nearly forgotten that form of embarrassment that came from his human half. A humiliation by his status. By what had become of him, by what he was. “…Don’t have one.”

Pet could tell Hero was looking at him. What kind of an answer is that? Everyone has a name. Pet felt himself blushing. “…Or I guess he calls me Puppy.”

Hero tilted their head, their eyebrows furrowed. Pet waited for them to reply, but they didn’t. Pet could sense them judging his answer and it hurt. Pet realized that he did want this stupid beautiful human to respect him. To respect the pathetic dog of Villain. 

Hero’s silence was too much. Pet blurted, “Here. Let me do your chest too. You were hit at close range. The magic does damage inside.”

For a beat Hero just looked at him and Pet wanted to dissolve, to die on the spot. But then Hero took Pet’s hands and gently pulled them to their chest. Pet felt gooey. He released a swell of magic into their chest, more than he thought he had left. Hero breathed. In and out, up and down. 

“You’re amazing. You’d be such an asset in the kingdom,” Hero said quietly. 

“No,” Pet replied sharply. “I—I can’t. I can’t leave. Remember?”

“Sure,” Hero said, but it wasn’t convincing. 

“Just trust me on this,” Pet insisted. Even if I could leave…he reflected. They hate things like me there.

Pet sighed. The magic was no longer flowing out of his hands but stuttering, sparking out. He was exhausted and just about drained. “That’s all I got.”

Hero took Pet’s hand and it held it in their large, calloused one. “Thank you.”

Pet’s heart fluttered. He had to laugh at himself. How idiotic, to go all romantic for a pretty hero. 

Hero stood. Hero’s leg looked like it would hold them up. They were tall. If Pet were a peasant, he would feel safe with Hero walking by. It was stupid of them to toss away their life, especially for a forgotten dredge in Villain’s layer. They would be missed if they fell here. Pet was glad he saved them.

“You’re a real hero, Pup. You’re a brave, honorable man,” Hero said, and pulled Pet into a hug. 

Pet breathed into Hero’s chest. It was nice to be seen this way, though it wasn’t true. Pet was not a man, nor brave. How many dozens of people had he seen Villain kill, never once stopping him before? How many people had Pet healed just so that Villain could torture them again? No. Pet was a monster. His humanity was long gone. 

Pet pulled away. “Front door is out that way, turn left, end of the hall, turn right. You’ll see it.”

Hero gave a wide grin and turned to leave. His footsteps faded. Pet gripped his hair because he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to call out, wait! Hero would turn and Pet would smile. Can I come with you? Hero would smile back and say, of course! I would never leave you here! And they would go through that door together and when Villain came after them, they’d kill him together. 

The door closed and Pet knew Hero was gone. Pet laughed at the insane idea, how insane Hero made him. If Villain knew about that disloyal thought—Pet stopped laughing. No. No. He would never know. Pet would be here forever. There was no other way. The outside was not for things like Pet. Pet wept. 

#whump fic #dehumanization #stabbing #magical exhaustion #abandonment

[whump-only]

Hi! Was just thinking fondly about your blog and I hope you are doing well! Xoxo

Thank you, I appreciate your note so much!!!

[whump-only]

One-shot story with the trope of a whumpee being given an unpleasant choice by the whumper. Hero uses they/them pronouns

CW: dehumanization, stabbing, magical torture (both explicit and promised), master/pet dynamics 

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Pet cowered under the table, forgotten by both Hero and Villain who were locked in furious battle. Pet shrunk away from the hot roar of his master’s magic, the crack of splintering furniture as it was thrown aside. Pet could see just a blur of Hero’s boots and dark pants, running, lifting off the ground in powerful jumps. Pet wondered what type of person barged into Villain’s lair at dinner time and barely uttered a word before drawing a gun, aiming. What type of person thought they could kill Villain…

The table lurched as Hero slammed into it. Pet yelped, then quickly slapped his hands over his mouth.

Pet hoped they hadn’t heard. But Hero crouched down and seemed to look directly at Pet before Pet could recoil. In the next moment, a blast of Villain’s magic smashed into the wall next to Hero as Hero leapt away, only just in time. 

Pet ducked from the scorching heat and the ensuing gust of hot wind. When Pet looked up, the table had been thrown by the blast, leaving him exposed. 

Pet scanned for cover but his attention was caught by Hero who was looking directly at him. They locked eyes for a second and Pet thought he saw Hero point his finger toward the far wall before jumping away from another one of Villain’s blasts. 

Pet glanced in the direction Hero had indicated. There was nothing except splintered dining chairs. And the door. Was Hero indicating the door? But the door was such a long, treacherous distance away. 

Pet looked back towards Hero who was in a constant motion, leaping. But as Pet tracked Hero’s movements, it occurred to him that if Hero continued to move along the far wall like that... that would focus Villain’s attacks. And leave an open path. Pet took off to the door. 

It was working. Pet could tell Villain’s magic wasn’t being channeled in his direction. He could safely get out of Villain’s way—

A cry rang out, followed by a muted thud. Pet whipped around and sure enough Hero had been hit out of the air. They were writhing on the ground as Villain’s magic coursed through them. Pet winced, knowing how that felt. How your muscles were fire. How it made you want to beg, beg and die to make it stop. How stupid Hero was for coming here, of course they couldn’t defeat Villain!, Pet thought bitterly. 

“Ts. A little distracted today, are we Hero?” Villain said, his voice ringing clearly through the dining hall. “Unlucky for you.” The heels of Villain’s good shoes clicked on the hardwood as he walked casually up to Hero who was probably still twitching. The magic made you twitch, Pet knew. Pet didn’t want to watch. Villain hated when his good shoes got dirty…

“Fuck you, Villain,” Hero coughed, “Back there, you almost hit…” there was a pause and Pet could feel Hero’s eyes on his back. “…Your sidekick?”

Pet prickled with embarrassment and fear as surely now Villain was staring too, angry, angry at Pet for getting in the way!

“That. Is not my sidekick,” Villain said simply before releasing another hit of magic, this time from close range.

Pet squeezed his eyes closed, knowing it must’ve made Hero’s whole body jump, how it burned from the inside out. A sudden sob caught in Pet’s throat. 

Hero would die and it would be Pet’s fault, for distracting them, for getting in the way. Surprised by his own audacity, Pet ran back toward Villain. 

Villain drew his sword, and Pet knew its most likely path, could trace its swift plunge into Hero’s chest. No, Pet thought desperately, but Hero didn’t even seem to register that this was their last few seconds alive. Instead Hero fixed a quizzical look on Pet, mouthed something. Go. Run. 

Pet didn’t have time to think about that— Reaching Villain, Pet dropped down to all fours breathlessly and gently bumped his head into Villain’s leg. 

Villain snapped his hand down and hit Pet’s head and Pet yelped. Villain’s hand sparked with magic and Pet tensed for the ripping pain that was certainly deserved.  

But Villain just leaned down and scratched Pet’s hair lightly, behind his ears. “Puppy. Not now. Master is busy.”

Pet breathed with relief at the mercy. He started to back up, get out of the way, as Villain commanded. But from this distance Pet now heard Hero’s labored breathing, the kind heavy with pain. Hero thought Pet could get away, didn’t they? That was silly. Stupid. Now they’d die. Die because of Pet. 

Before Pet could stop himself, he let out an urgent whimper and touched his head to Villain’s leg again. 

Villain didn’t look down this time. “I said get out of my way.” He kicked Pet hard in the stomach. 

Pet shifted back, hurting and ashamed. But when Villain grabbed Hero’s face, Pet couldn’t stand it and blurted, “No! Please don’t kill them! Please?”

Villain’s cold attention was now fully fixed on Pet. “Puppy,” Villain growled “…Why shouldn’t I?”

Pet was frozen under Villain’s anger. “Um. I just. Um. I-I just thought—“

Villain moved his hand down from Hero’s face to their neck, wrapping his deadly fingers around. Pet thought he could feel the light squeeze on his own windpipe.

Villain explained coolly, “Hero came here to kill your master. Look at the mess they made, destroying my dining room. And you want to suggest I just let them go? Would that be fair?”

Pet shrunk to the ground, covered their head. Of course Villain was right. What had Pet been thinking? “N-No. I’m sorry, Master.” 

Villain rested the tip of his sword on Hero’s chest. “Yes. Hero deserves to die.” 

Pet covered his ears. But instead of hilt hitting ribcage, Villain spoke. “Say, for example, I did let Hero live. Would you pay for Hero’s mistakes? How much is Hero’s life worth to you, Pet?”

Pet sat up, surprised. The tip of Villain’s sword still rested on Hero’s chest. Hero too, raised their eyebrows. 

Pet stumbled for ideas. “I’ll clean it all up,” Pet motioned toward the destruction. Villain, of course, just smirked. What could Pet possibly offer that he didn’t already give, whenever Villain asked? “I’ll— um. I’ll…” 

Hero shouted, “Don’t—!“

Villain plunged the sword into Hero’s thigh. Hero shrieked. Pet closed his eyes, curled away, but Villain grabbed him by the collar, yanked him up. 

Pet shakily looked into Villain’s eyes. Look up. Look at me. Pet remembered.

Villain’s gaze was icy. “Focus Puppy. How long does Hero have to live if we don’t touch them anymore?”

Pet squirmed. Pet didn’t need to see the blood gushing out, soaking Hero’s pants, pooling below them, to know it was there. “Ten, ten minutes? Or-or fifteen.”

Hero moaned. Pet wanted to rip away and clap his hands over his ears, but not now. Now he could only tremble. 

“Yes. That’s about right…” Villain mused, looking Hero up and down. Villain then tightened his grip on Pet’s collar, so it bit into his neck. “Say I let you heal Hero. So they can crawl away from here and never come back.” At that, Villain twisted the sword in Hero’s thigh and Hero screamed, and Pet maybe screamed too. 

When the ringing in Pet’s ears subsided, he realized Villain was shaking him, roughly pulling up on his collar. Villain growled, “Go on, tell me. How many days on the table would you spend for Hero?”

“On table?” Pet breathed. That was the worst punishment, worse than anything, reserved for when Pet really misbehaved. He’d only ever done four days at the longest, and that was really early, when he was still bad. Pet was overwhelmed by the memory of it, the nerve wrending—

“Tik tok, Puppy. Hero’s not doing so good,” Villain hummed, and forced him to look at Hero who had slumped over. The sword was still lodged in them, poking out like a toothpick. 

Pet gripped his hair. “I’ll—I’ll— I’ll do seven!” 

Pet stared at Villain’s face, searching, searching for his reaction. Villain stared back, coldly until a small smile twitched on his lips. 

Villain flung Pet aside, sending him hard into floor. When Pet opened his eyes, Villain had already ripped the sword out of Hero’s thigh. 

“And I thought you took a liking to Hero… how sad,” Villain snarled, raising the sword up. 

“No! W-wait! I—I’ll do more!” Pet cried. 

Villain paused, eyes glinting. “Speak quickly.”

“T-Two weeks. I’ll do two weeks,” Pet stammered. 

Villain lowered the sword, then sheathed it. “Fine. Two weeks. You may heal Hero. Though you might want to work quickly.”

Pet exhaled in relief, then scrambled over to Hero, lay his hands on their thigh. 

“I hope you don’t regret your choice, Puppy,” Villain said. 

Pet really, really hoped so too. “Thank you Master,” he replied and willed the magic into his palms. 

#whump fic #master/pet #dehumanisation #torture #stabbing #pet whump

[whump-only]

Klaus telling Diego he "barely got out with his life" when Hazel and Cha-Cha tortured him back in S1 but now we know he probably actually did die a couple of times in the process and just CAME BACK TO LIFE WITHOUT EVEN REALISING ?? Klaus ?? 😭😭

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sometimes i forget that I am in fact an artist too and I can just draw whatever shit I want

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# of times i yawned when drawing this: 39

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Oh my I’m so excited ! The bar rough up is so good. Carlo stressing Martin will find out and think he was cheating

Carlo breaking from nervousness and jealousy and offering himself to Martin after seeing the girl

What about Carlo doing something a little too “normal” that implies he’s forgotten his place like getting into the front passenger side door of the car. And Martin disapproves, reminding Carlo that they are not equals and never will be

Martin Olson AU ideas/notes/ potential spoilers 

Keep reading

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Warning: Servant Caretaker, [implied] pet whump, slavery, wounds, blood, [implied] abuse.

"C-Caretaker?" Whumpee whispered, watching as Caretaker looked up from the dishes they were doing at the sound of their voice. The moment they saw them, all beaten and bloodied after their time with Whumper, the servant was quick to drop everything and come to their aid. "Wh-Whumper said I could come see you f-for, uh, for a hug."

"You don't want me to patch up those wounds for you?"

Whumpee tearily shook their head, hiccupping a little. "Hu-urts to much. Just wanna be held. P-please?"

Caretaker brought them into the warmest hug they could possibly muster, kissing their temple and swaying them both gently as they stood there in the kitchen. Whumpee was in so much pain, every joint in their body aching.

"I wish I could live in the servants' quarters with you..." Whumpee whispered, burying their face into Caretaker's shoulder. "I don't want to belong to Whumper anymore."

"I know, I know... It's okay now. May I please run you a hot bath and help clean you up a bit?"

"Mm- Whumper won't l-like that. Don't wanna- don't wanna get in trouble."

Caretaker shook their head. "I'll take the fall for it, and I'll even give you your favourite scalp massage."

"R-really?" Whumpee lit up a little, despite the tears falling rapidly down their face. They loved when Caretaker gave them baths. They were so gentle and loving, nothing like they were used to. "Okay."

Caretaker promptly scooped Whumpee into their arms and began their journey to the bathroom in the servants' quarters.

All they could do was hope that none of Whumper's guards were watching them as they did so.

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You’re being enabled by your own father. Yeah, but I really think if you just give him a little chance–

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Obedient

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Can we see Dark!Alex and Zee’s first time? 👀

CW: early timeline dark!Alex AU, dubcon, dubcon touching, implied nsfw.

Alex’s hair was wet from a shower when he came down the stairs that evening, only to be met with guilty help-me eyes from Z2. He hated to ask Alex or Dominic for anything, after all they’d done for him. But Michael and Tyler were already drinking, and he could sense something unpleasant was in the cards for him very soon if he did not get off their radar.

Alex grabbed his post-workout drink from the fridge and tapped the side of his thigh in a come with me gesture. Zee followed him up to his room like a puppy with his head down, shoulders relaxing a fraction when the door shut behind them. He climbed on Alex’s bed with permission and took the tv remote Alex handed him gratefully— though he would gladly sit there in silence and do nothing but rest and listen, heavy-lidded, to the sounds of Alex tapping on his keyboard, the little click of his mouse.

Alex gave up studying after twenty minutes and came to sit beside Zee on his bed, listlessly scrolling his phone. After a moment, he reached his free hand over and laid it on Zee’s thigh. It was a heavy, nonchalant touch, like it was something that happened all the time, but Zee jumped and tensed as if he had pinched him.

“No?” Alex laughed. He dropped his hand back in his lap.

Zee reddened, knowing it was too late to fix his reaction. But Alex had never touched him, and he had not expected it. And they were alone, which seldom happened around Alex. It was still sinking into his brain that Alex had touched him. Aloof and adored Alex, who’s smiling eyes always made him feel like the two of them shared an inside joke, though he suspected Alex made everyone feel this way.

“You can,” Zee whispered.

“Yeah?” Alex tilted his head at him, studying him. “A little birdie told me you’re not as shy as you look. Unless that was some other cute Boxboy we have around here that no one told me about.”

Zee’s mouth felt dry, and his heart did an uncomfortable flip. Had Cam told Alex about the things they did in his room at night? The thought of Cam telling the sordid details to anyone, let alone Alex, made him want to hide his face in the pillows and never come up for air.

Alex tried it again. This time, Zee did not jump when he laid his hand on his thigh. He watched Zee’s face and squeezed his quadricep lightly. His voice was soft, just above a whisper. “So? Was it you I heard about?”

Zee nodded, trying to maintain the same air of composure that Alex seemed to have. He let his knees fall open a little more, giving Alex easy access to his inner thigh under the silky fabric of his borrowed basketball shorts. Alex took advantage slowly, letting two fingers drift over his tender skin. A door slammed down the hall and made him flinch. Alex acted as if he hadn’t even heard it.

“How come you and I’ve never played together then?” he asked. “What’s so special about Cameron?”

Zee’s breaths were growing shallower, his entire world reduced to where Alex’s fingers were touching his thigh, sending little ripples of pleasure up between his legs. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully.

“Do you love him?”

“No,” Zee whispered, breathless.

Alex’s gaze lowered to Zee’s lips, drifted back up to his eyes. “Can I have a turn then?”

Zee’s skin was hot. On fire. He willed Alex to lift his hand higher up his inner thigh— up up up. Yes, please, I want to know what it’s like with you, too.

“Yeah,” was what came out of his mouth.

Alex pulled his hand out of Zee’s shorts. He leaned back against the pillows at the head of his bed and patted his lap. “C’mere then”

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i love whump scenes where it’s the first night of whumpee being with caretaker and they’ve had a warm bath and some soup and they get tucked into bed for the first time in years and they lay there like