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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 2 years

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Vampire Caretaker- Part 2

Part 1

“Little one?”

Whumpee stirred but didn’t open their eyes. They were laying in something incredibly soft and enveloped in something warm. They wanted to stay here, wherever here was. It was so cozy, they didn’t want to go back to reality. Whumpee distantly heard a voice chuckle.

“Well, at least you’re somewhat awake, I was getting worried for a moment.”

At that, Whumpee’s eyes snapped open, reality hitting them all at once. They looked up to see Caretaker from before. They scrambled up into a sitting position. Caretaker reached out a hand to steady them, but Whumpee flinched back. They took in their surroundings with wild eyes. They were in a dimly lit room with wooden paneled walls and great crimson curtains obscuring a window. They were sitting up in a very large bed with a deep red comforter and several soft pillows. Caretaker was sitting at their bedside, their red eyes glinting in the dim lamplight. Caretaker wore a concerned expression on their face.

“Wh-” Whumpee started, “where am I?”

“You’re in my home,” Caretaker explained, “don’t excite yourself now, you’re still weak from residual poison.”

Whumpee felt something scratchy against their neck. They reached up and felt soft bandages wrapped around it.

“I patched you up as best as I could,” Caretaker said, “I’m sorry it had to come to biting you, but you were running out of time. If I hadn’t acted when I had… I’m not so sure you’d still be here.”

“What do you want with me?” Whumpee asked in a small voice.

“Nothing,” Caretaker said, “I just want you to get better. I saw you needed help, and I couldn’t just leave you to die.”

“You’re… not going to turn me into your bloodbag?” Whumpee asked.

Caretaker visibly cringed.

“No, little one,” Caretaker said gently, “I’m not that kind of vampire.”

Whumpee took a minute to breathe. Caretaker’s words seemed to be genuine; after all, Whumpee had been in their home for who knows how long and they hadn’t been bitten again as far as they could tell. Maybe they were safe here?

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Caretaker said, “what is your name?”

“…It’s Whumpee.”

Caretaker smiled.

“Lovely,” Caretaker said, “it suits you.”

Whumpee thought back to the last time they were awake. They remembered Caretaker removing the poison from their system, but they couldn’t remember how they got poisoned in the first place.

“What’s wrong, Whumpee?” Caretaker asked.

“I- I can’t remember,” Whumpee said, “I can’t remember anything about last night. How I got poisoned, how I got in the alley, anything.”

“Ah, well,” Caretaker said, “I must admit my knowledge is about as limited as yours is, I’m afraid. All I know is you were exhibiting symptoms of being poisoned when I found you. There are some dangerous characters in the city that want nothing more than to cause trouble for innocent people like yourself. Tell me, Whumpee, do you live in the city?”

Whumpee shook their head.

“I just arrived yesterday. I was staying at an inn, but I haven’t found a place to live yet.”

“Would you like to stay with me until you do? It might be safer than the inn, especially if that’s where you got poisoned in the first place. Besides, you still need to recover from your ordeal.”

Whumpee was taken aback. First Caretaker saved their life, now they were offering them a place to stay? Whumpee wasn’t sure what to say.

“I- I would love to,” Whumpee finally said, “if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Caretaker said with a smile, “I haven’t had company in a very long time. Now tell me, what would you like for breakfast? Although I don’t really eat food myself, I keep the pantry well stocked in case someone stops by.”

…

Whumper clung to the shadows of the castle courtyard. To think all it took was poisoning a random person for the vampire to come out. Following them back to their home had been simple. Whumper couldn’t believe that Caretaker actually lived in the decrepit, old castle. It was almost cliché really. No matter, soon Whumper would get Caretaker alone and would put an end to yet another vampire that plagued the earth.

part 3

Tags: @rainy-knights-of-villany

Special thanks to @deckofaces and @thepenultimateword and @rainy-knights-of-villany for helping out with this part!

#vampire x human #human x vampire #vampire hunter #vampire hunter whumper #human whumpee #vampire caretaker #whump #hurt/comfort #whump snippet #whump drabble #poison whump

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whumpspicelatte · 7 months

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New Series

So, anyone interested in a series about a vampire hunter whumper and his pet training? Multiple whumpees, lots of whumper-turned-whumpee, pet whump, conditioning, vampire whumpees, you know, the works.

#whump idea #original idea #new series?#whump #vampire hunter whumper #vampire whumpee #pet whump #could use some help for getting ideas on what kinds of whumpees he ends up with #already got my whumper down #now gotta get the whumpees

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spiralofwhump · 2 years

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Thinking about a vampire pet whumpee with a vampire/supernatural hunter Whumper, Whumper usually kills most supernatural creatures without hesitation but this vampire, perhaps they’ll be more entertaining alive than dead. They never kept a pet before but there’s always a first time for everything. So they capture Whumpee and use their encyclopedic knowledge of vampires to torture and wear down the poor pet, trying to break Whumpee down in just the right way so they’re nice and obedient. Withholding blood till the vampire is begging for the tiniest drop, exposing them to sunlight, and other methods that cause Whumpee to howl for mercy. And maybe, just maybe, one day Whumpee will have the privilege to hunt with Whumper if they’re a good pet

#Whump #Pet whumpee #Vampire whump #vampire whumpee #vampire hunter whumper #pet whump

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whumpninja · 2 months

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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 #vampire whump #vampire whumper #vampire whumpee #bloodbag whumpee #vampire hunter #whump ask game #ask me about #jack be whumpy

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oliversrarebooks · 4 months

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Hunting Dog Part One: Lowell's Mistake

Masterlist

This is a spinoff of The Rare Bookseller! It takes place in the same world, but you don't have to have read Bookseller to understand this story.

April 1922

TW: human auction, capture, drugging

Oh, he'd hit the absolute motherlode.

Lowell couldn't believe that the tip he'd received at the speakeasy had actually panned out. He'd spent all night in surveillance observing the vampires -- and there was no question that they were vampires -- bustling in and out of the old but well-kept mansion. With a specially crafted scent to disguise the smell of his blood and the moon nearly full, it hadn't been difficult to conceal himself in an a gnarled oak tree and confirm that this was likely the infamous, elusive auction house.

He watched cars and carriages arrive and depart, well-dressed vampires chatting on the porch, struggling humans being dragged into a basement entrance, and clearly enthralled individuals carrying out trash and carrying in crates of supplies, their sleepwalking movements and glassy eyes apparent even from a distance. If this wasn't the auction house itself, it was certainly a major hotbed of vampire activity, more than worth his time.

Every vampire hunter worth his salt dreamed of finding and taking down the auction house. Between all the thralls the hunter's guild had rescued over the years, they had a very good idea of what the interior was like, how they processed humans, and what kind of clientele frequented the place. But no thrall knew where it was located -- about an hour away from the city by carriage, somewhere secluded in the countryside, memories far too vague to have any success locating it. The vampires were careful to make sure that the thralls were unconscious, drugged, or hypnotized while taking them to and from the cursed place.

Lowell hadn't thought much of the alcohol drenched, barely lucid man who had stumbled into the speakeasy that night, until he claimed that he had escaped from a fledgeling vampire. Purchased at the auction for a thousand dollars, a pitiful sum for a human life, the poor thrall had managed to get free in just two months' time. His memory of the auction house had proved shockingly clear, giving Lowell the final few clues he needed to track the place down.

And now, it was within his sights, that wretched house of misery where humans were bought and sold like meat at a butcher's. Even now, within those walls, innocent victims were having their minds spirited away, their wills bent towards serving monstrous masters, their very lives stolen from them.

All there was to do was wait until sunup, when he'd have all the advantages against sluggish vampires who could not flee outdoors. He briefly toyed with the idea of gathering more hunters and returning the next day, before discarding it. The security around the auction house, especially as the sun began to rise and the vampires retreated within, appeared to be minimal. It was obvious that they counted on secrecy and remoteness as their main way of keeping humans out -- the security was no doubt focused instead on keeping humans in.

And if the allure of being the vampire hunter to destroy the notorious auction house was clouding his judgement a tad... well, you didn't get to be a hunter with this many dustings under your belt without a lot of confidence and a lot of risks.

Once the sun had crested the hills and the vampires had all either left or gone back within, the only souls remaining outside the mansion were some unfortunate thralls enlisted as guards. While they had clearly been chosen for strength and size, their slow reactions were no match for a hunter in possession of his full faculties. Lowell quickly dispatched the guard near the basement door with a sedative dart, liberating the poor man of his keys and entering the building. He used a small block of wood to prop the door open, a trick he'd learned from well-seasoned hunters to always leave himself an escape route.

The vast majority of vampire manors Lowell had entered were ornate and packed wall-to-wall with furniture and collectibles suiting the vampire's particular desires, an expression of their innate possessiveness. Lowell knew for sure that he was in the auction house and no ordinary manor the second he laid eyes on the hallway -- painted white, free of obstruction, sterile, resembling a hospital or military base.

It was deathly quiet, so Lowell took extra care that his footsteps did not make noise against the polished wood floor, lest he alert any vampire that happened to be awake. He passed a few rooms, cautiously peering in with weapons drawn. One was an infirmary, one was a shower, one seemed to be an office, another couple were occupied primarily by padded chairs with leather restraints.

The laundry room and kitchen each had a couple of dazed thralls doing chores. In each case, Lowell shut the door again before they noticed, if they were even capable of noticing. The guild would have a lot of work on their hands rehabilitating all of these thralls once he cleaned out the vampires, that was for certain.

Truthfully, Lowell didn't have a lot of patience for thralls himself. He felt compassion for innocent victims, and tried to rescue them when possible, but when it came to rehabilitating them... he couldn't stand their foggy, dazed expressions, their nervous flinching, the way they laced their speech with 'sirs' and empty courtesies. He especially hated to hear freed thralls begging for the touch of a cruel master, longing for fangs in their neck even months after rescue. So many of them who tried to live on their own ended up back in the sway of a vampire within a year or less. Once easy prey, always easy prey.

Lowell was eternally thankful that he was a predator instead.

Rounding the corner, he encountered the first vampire, a drowsy, scrawny thing stationed in front of a double door. It was beyond obvious that he'd never encountered a threat before -- even with his vampiric reflexes, he was far too slow to react before Lowell was on top of him, hand pressing to his mouth to stifle his cry, a sure hand driving a wooden stake straight through his heart.

It was easy. This had all been easy so far. Too easy, for such a legendary place. He knew he shouldn't let his guard down as the dusted vampire had.

But maybe this would be easy. After all, it was clear that the vampires were only concerned about humans escaping, not humans infiltrating. And despite their enhanced strength and senses and their many supernatural powers, vampires weren't especially clever compared to humans. Undeath and immortality made them stagnate -- most vampires were eternally stuck in their ways, and that made them careless and unimaginative. Lowell couldn't help the rush of pleasure that came with beating the vampires right in their own territory.

He quietly pushed open the double door, crossbow at the ready, cracking it just slightly with a doorstop. It was a long, dark hallway, and the scattered noises Lowell could hear didn't sound like vampires. It sounded like soft breathing, quiet snoring, the occasional mutter or sob. It was pitch black, and Lowell had to risk lighting a match, its flickering light revealing iron-barred cells.

Holding cells for the poor humans waiting to be processed into thralls, just as he'd expected. The motherlode, indeed. Most of the humans seemed to be either asleep or unresponsive as he passed their cells. It was just as well, because it meant they couldn't raise an alarm.

"Ah --"

Lowell could see his matchlight reflected in a pair of terrified eyes, hands gripping the bars of her cell. "Shhh, be quiet," he said.

"Sorry," she said in a voice so quiet that he could barely hear her. "Are you... you're not a vampire, are you? Are you here to rescue us?"

"Yes," he said, with a swell of pride. "That's the idea."

"Oh, thank you, thank you. They told me I was going to be taken and hypnotized tomorrow night -- and I've been so scared -- I want to go home, please -- "

"All right, all right, keep your voice down and let me do my work."

"Of course," she said, slinking back into the shadows. "Thank you, thank you."

As Lowell approached the other end of the hall, he could see another pair of double doors, and considered his options. The doors hadn't been locked against his entry, but if the vampires were concerned about potential thralls escaping, they might lock the doors to prevent exit. If he tried them, he'd be likely to alert the vampire guard that may be lurking on the other side, who could fetch backup.

Too risky. He'd have to go back the way he came.

But when he turned around and reached the door he had entered, he found it shut tight.

No -- he had certainly left it propped open. There was no way it had closed without him hearing it, not unless --

Shit, they were onto him.

He dropped his match, snuffing it out with his foot while preparing his crossbow. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his nerves steady. There might not be many vampires in the auction house at this hour. This wasn't even the worst situation he'd ever been in. He'd fight his way through them and have an amazing story to tell the guild once they showed up here to help with the cleanup.

Several tense moments passed as the hunter readied his weapons and reassured himself of his impending victory.

The double doors at both ends of the hall slammed open, and the electric lights overhead flashed on and off in quick succession -- with his eyes acclimated to the darkness, he was blinded, shooting his bow half on instinct. He shot one in the shoulder -- saw another crumble to dust -- before cold hands wrapped around his arms, forcing his crossbow to drop and pinning him against a vampire.

Vampires weren't any more clever than humans, but they were strong. Even the weakest looking vampire was stronger than any ordinary human. That's why hunters relied on skill and surprise, because their odds were so poor when it came to hand-to-hand combat.

This was it, then. He'd fucked up, and this was how he died. It was happening so fast. He'd had this nightmare so many times, and he braced himself for a knife in his gut or a snap of his neck. At least he'd died bravely. The way he always wanted to go out, really, fighting the goddamn leeches.

But then a damp cloth was pressed against his face, a cloth with a thick chemical smell. His eyes widened as he realized that he was going to be subjected to a fate far worse than death.

Capture. They were going to capture him, and with vampires, that only meant one thing -- they were going to try and make him into a thrall. A nightmare worse than death, one that he'd never even let himself entertain.

He saw the cruel grins of the vampires surrounding him as two of them held him tightly restrained and another pushed the cloth firm against his face. He held his breath, thrashing, hoping for an opening to escape, even as their grip held firm.

A vampire with the appearance of a young, innocent woman was standing nearby, watching the scene, yawning wide. "Nice work," she said. "Worth staying up late for."

"Are you sure you don't want to kill him? I mean, he just dusted Tim," said the vampire holding the cloth.

"He's too valuable to kill. A hunter turned thrall will make a fine prize. I know just the right buyer, too."

No! No, he couldn't let it happen. That would never happen. He couldn't be a mindlessly adoring pet to some prideful, cruel monster. He couldn't fawn and offer his blood and call a vampire 'sir'. That couldn't be him. He'd rather die, he'd so much rather die.

He wasn't fucking prey.

But his struggles were fruitless, especially as more vampires surrounded him and helped to immobilize him. He couldn't hold his breath forever, and he was forced to gulp down the noxious drug along with the air he needed. His head started to spin, his extremities going numb.

He had to get free, right now, before it was too late.

But as he began to sag in the vampires' arms, his limbs heavy and his eyelids beginning to droop against his will, he knew in his heart it already was too late. He was growing exhausted, the drugged cloth slowly but surely putting him under, and his fight to wrench himself from the vampires' grasp had now transitioned into a fight to keep himself awake.

"That's a good hunter," cooed the young woman, petting his hair, and he was too drowsy to move his head away. "Just go right to sleep. I'll take such good care of you."

"You won't. Whatever you're planning... it won't work," he said with all of the fire he could muster, his voice muffled by the cloth. "You might have caught me, but you're not going to turn me into some pathetic, simpering thrall."

"Oh, I'll do that and more," she said, her sugary voice growing more sinister. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be nothing more than an eager little puppy of a thrall, laying at a vampire's feet and begging to be fed on."

The thought sickened him. He thrashed weakly, one last vain attempt to get free, but it was beyond hopeless. The urge to just shut his eyes and go to sleep was so strong, and every blink made it harder for him to open his eyes again. But he couldn't sleep, couldn't let the bloodsuckers take his mind.

"Aww, is the mighty hunter getting sleepy?" She scratched lightly at his scalp, a gesture which might be affectionate under different circumstances. "Go to sleep," she sang in a mocking lullaby, "go to sleep, go to sleep, little hunter..."

"No... don't..." His head sagged forward into the cloth, his vision blurring, his eyelids fluttering.

"Off to dreamland with you now, little hunter-thrall. You'll feel so much better after a little nap. And once you wake up, we're going to have so much fun together."

Lowell could do nothing but groan, defeated, as his eyes closed and refused to open again. His mind began to drift far away as he sank helplessly into a drugged sleep.

Masterlist

I'm not sure how many parts this side story will have, but knowing me, too many.

#whump #whump writing #vampire whumper #vampire hunter whumpee #vampire #vampire hunter #mind control #drugging #sedation #captivity #hunting dog #lowell #lily

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whump-place · 5 months

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"Leech, what are you doing there?"

Asks a very angry Whumper from the other side of the room. Whumper's fists hide behind their back holding a silver knive while looking at vampire Whumpee and the front door half open.

"I- I promise I can explain..."

#whump prompt #whumpee #whump tropes #whump writing #whumper #vampires #vampire hunter #vampire whump #i dont even know #what's this

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whumpsoda · 2 months

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Coming Back to Bite You Part 1 - Swept Up

Masterlist

Finally putting this out there, hopefully I continue it :) updates will probably be pretty slow and gradual!

cw: vampire whumper, kidnapping, hypnosis, alcohol use, mention of death

———————————————————————

He was going to throw up.

Marshall gripped the can of beer in one calloused hand, taking an aggressive swig of the beverage, still cold droplets of liquid dribbling over his fingers. His throat bobbed with each continuing gulp, and his stomach churned in a boil of acidic bile. The bitter taste of alcohol coated his mouth, swishing off his tongue and dancing down his throat, until he realized he was going to choke. Marshall’s moist lips released the can with a weak gasp.

He lazily dropped it to the concrete with a clang, the last sip of liquid slipping And seeping into the cracks of the concrete. With a groan he dug his trembling hands into the skin of his flushed face, bits of dried and cracked blood still crammed in rings underneath his crooked nails.

The sour smell of gore still tainted his runny nostrils, infecting the scent of his several tossed away and half finished drinks. Begrudged tears pricked at his eyes, leaving his vision glassy and wet as he desperately tried to wipe them gone.

He should’ve be used to it. Five plus years of vampire hunting experience should’ve prepared him, but it didn’t. It never did.

Marshall choked back a soft sob, brushing at his face roughly in an attempt to rid the tears stained with embarrassment. He didn’t know why he did it. Why he had for five years, and why he continued to. Why he still didn’t quit after seeing yet another young newbie die a gruesome death at the hand of a monstrous creature, with nothing to do to stop it.

How pathetic.

“Something wrong?”

His limbs froze rigid, the sharp, close words cutting through the nightly silence. He shifted, gaze meeting with that of a small woman seated neatly beside him.

Her face was shadowed by the light shining upon her back, but he could still clearly see her soft grin and glittering eyes.

“Um,” he sputtered, gears turning to catch his mind up with his mouth. “Leave, leave me alone.”

She grinned, eerily soft and sweet, tilting her head a smidge. The essence of a mother speaking to her child. “I’d love to help.”

Help? Puzzled anger bubbled bigger in his belly, only strengthened by her audaciousness. “I said,” he snarled, face twisting and seething, his crooked teeth bared in likeness to that of the creatures he was trained to kill. “Leave me alone.”

“Driving home?”

Marshall groaned, sickly, taking a peek at his tattered old truck sitting in the empty lot. His vision shifted, rolling down to the can he’d placed beside his foot, previously filled with alcohol.

He gritted his teeth, grabbing the can once again and lifting it to his lips as the stranger watched. “Yeah? So what?” He spat, taking a petty sip.

The woman sighed, her smug grin never so much as faltering. “Just thought I’d remind you.” She huffed, holding back a chuckle.

“Why don’t you just mind your own business?” Marshall grumbled, glaring sharply at the stranger. She simply giggled, dripping with condescension, waving him off. Was it so hard to get five minutes to himself?

“Oh, you are very funny, dear. A bit temperamental as well, I see.” She chuckled again.

What was her problem?

That was it. It was not the time. The stranger obviously didn’t have anything better to do than irritate someone crying in the middle of nowhere covered in grime and vampire blood, and seemed to be having a good time with it. Marshall, on the other hand, was no short of seething.

He pushed himself to his feet, wiping his cheeks of sweat and tears and adjusting his coat. Without another word he stepped to leave.

To his surprise, shocking strength wrapped around his wrist, holding him back and leaving him unable to walk off.

“Oh, please don’t go. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sit back down with me, won’t you?”

Marshall stared back in bewilderment at the woman firmly clutching his wrist. What? Confusion was boggling him, poking at his brain. Was she crazy? Who was she to think he would follow her request? After she’d been practically taunting him when he was obviously distressed?

Though-

He paused. He had meant to snap another insolent response, but nothing came out. Why did he-

His vision swiftly glazed over blurry, fogging up his eyes as they turned glassy and unfocused. Marshall wobbled in his spot, legs buckling and shivering with weakness. The ground spun under him, dizzying his head and coating his mind with wretched nausea. His fingers reached out for something to grab, something to stabilize him.

He needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit-

He lazily stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, plopping right back into his seat. This time, he was a smidge closer to the woman. Marshall’s head lolled into his hand, catching himself from such dizzying disorientation.

Why was he… back on the bench? Was he not just about to leave? Was she touching him?

Lightly she rubbed in circles over his back, a motion he almost took no notice of. “Sorry about that, dear. It’s alright now.”

“I… what…?” Marshall slurred, his mind still a thick sludge that desperately gripped the walls of his, hopeful not to slip further into befuddlement.

He… he’d felt similar. Before. Marshall knew the sensation well, the sensation of his brain slipping through his fingers like water, liquified and stolen right out from his own control. Stomped to mush.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no-

“Very pretty rings you have. Mind if I take a look?” She held his hand between both of her gloved ones, fingers trailing over silver that glimmered in the light.

“Um…”

Not waiting for an answer, the stranger swiftly slipped each ring off each finger, holding them oh so carefully. “Very nice. Very.” She inspected them for a moment, right before turning and tossing them in a garbage bin behind her.

With widened eyes he sputtered, lazily trying to claw for them a second too late. She swept right back into his personal space, forcing him to retreat back with distraction. “Hm. And what might that be?”

She pointed to his pocket.

To his wooden stake, a necessity for vampire hunters.

It couldn’t be-

“I- you, that’s-”

Before he could so much as react, she slipped it right from him with her impossibly quick and nimble hands. “A wooden stake? Silly, silly.” She tisked, ignoring his growing concern and tossing it to the floor. It rolled a few feet away, and with drowsy, draped eyes Marshall watched it crawl out of reach. “You won’t be needing that.”

Please, no-

“You! You- you’re-!” Voice rising with muddled heat, his brain’s realization was catching up with his mouth.

Oh, God-

“Relax. I’m just here to help you. Calm down, dear.”

“N-no… you’re-! Get off me!” He swiped at her outstretched hand, feebly slapping it away.

How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let a vampire so close? How? He’d been so distressed and out of it from that nights job he hadn’t even noticed. What a fool, what a fool, what a fool.

He recoiled, jumping right off the bench and running. With his brain already such a mangled mess he nearly fell over, only catching himself with one hand and pushing himself back up.

His steps were slow and drowsy, swaying arduously and dramatically on his weighted feet. Nonchalantly the stranger stood behind him, taking her sweet time to catch up.

“Go-! Go away! Go away!” he hollered, stumbling around in a growing daze toward his truck, slipping over nothing several times. Her follow persisted. “Go away!”

Her vampiric aura strengthened by the second, taking hold of his susceptible mind and pushing him back into a distant, fuzzy haze. His words were tumbling and quieting, his movements gradually decreasing.

“N- no… no… leave…! Go…”

Soon enough subtle fingers trailed swiftly down his spine, stopping him in place. “Shhh, shhh… relax, dear. Just allow your limbs to go all numb and sleepy.”

His shoulders buckled, jaw falling slack under the immense weight of hypnotic force. Even still, infected by disgusting pleasure, his stomach tensed with sour acid. “Nooo…”

She walked around him, meeting his gaze with sweet, mind melting eyes. “I know you must be scared, little one. My apologies for messing with you, I just couldn’t help it. I’ll be nice now, okay? So be a good boy and just sleep.”

Easy. She’d overpowered him, so easily. Five years of practice and he’d lost just like that. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. How could he not hate himself? How could he not detest the world for such a fate he never deserved? Five years of service and he was going to lose his life at the hands of a vampire?

He’d been so careful.

“Just calm, oh so calm. Your mind settles, all sleepy and exhausted. Just let go for now. I won’t hurt you.” She soothed, cupping his face in her palms.

“Nuh… no… go…”

He didn’t want to let go. He had to escape. He wanted to escape. He wanted…

He wanted…

“Let… go…”

She smiled, warmth spreading through his belly, a blissful, distracting sensation that scattered any coherent thoughts clawing to the edges of his mind. “Good, good. Let go, dear. Just for a bit. You’ll have a very nice nap, okay? It’s all dark out here, which means you must be very tired. And nighttime means you sleep, doesn’t it?”

Marshall yawned, head lolling and body melting. He’d like a nap. He’d been working so dreadfully hard, he deserved one, did he not? A nap would be just wonderful.

“Aw, how cute. You’re so drowsy. Just falling asleep right in my arms, huh? Lovely. An easy catch, weren’t you?” He hummed in agreement, her words flowing through one ear and out the other. He was swiftly floating into unconsciousness, head gradually falling forward into his chest. “Shh… so very relaxed, sleep just holding your putty like mind in it’s hands. Just let go to the call of sleep and exhaustion. I know you want to, dear.”

It was strange, how delightful it felt. He’d been enthralled before, but never so deeply and thoroughly. His brain never so overridden. Why had he ever fought it? Why had he ever rejected such heaven? Marshall couldn’t so much as think of an answer.

Or, think at all, really.

Placing the kind pressure of her hand on the back of his neck, she easily guided the exhausted Marshall’s slick with sweat forehead into the nape of her neck.

“Good boy, good boy. Just let all your worries go. I tried so hard to make this easy on you, I know how easily fussy you humans can get. But everything is fine and calm. Calm and sleepy. Sleepy and relaxed. The darkness of the night makes you oh so exhausted and ready for bed.”

He shivered from the sound of praise, as well as the vampire stroking down his arms and stirring more pleasant feel as he drifted, brain coming to a stop. It felt better than it ever had to fall asleep. He smiled, and so did she. Even in the middle of winter, he’d never felt so pleasantly warm.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” She whispered sweetly, rocking him gently like a small child into an entranced sleep. “I’ll take great care of you, dear.”

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

#Coming back to bite you #Whump #whumpblr #whump story #vampire #vampire story #vampire whumper #whump writing #my writing #Marshall oc #Evangeline oc #Vampire hunter #enthralled #hypnotized #hypnosis #hypnosis whump #hypnotized whumpee #kidnapping

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seasaltandcopper · 11 months

Text

Summary: Teddy is a former thrall turned vampire hunter. After a decade of chasing her revenge, she gets wind of a group of Hunters keeping an all-too-familiar monster in their custody. Now finally, after ten years waiting, maybe she'll finally get some answers.

And much needed payback.

Pt 2 | Vampire Hunter AU

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, non-graphic mentions of torture, violence, imprisonment, starvation, dehumanization, 'it' as a pronoun (only used by one character), referenced past captivity and enthrallment

Teddy left Will to watch the truck while she made the journey into the compound alone to pick up the vampire. He seemed to understand, and didn’t argue or ask why. Just turned up the radio, and leaned back the passenger’s seat to nap until she showed back up to drive them home.

The Hunter Teddy had talked with on the phone—Brooks—led her on a meandering path through the repurposed factory. Past living and dining areas where many Hunters gathered in their off hours, and past the armory in the factory’s basement.

Down, again, to a sub basement that reeked of must and rot and worse. Long used to it, Teddy simply studied the layout, mapping her path back out to the surface, a habit ingrained after years of training in a place not that different from this one.

Brooks led them to what looked like an old walk-in industrial kiln, now fit and reinforced to work as a containment cell. The box was covered in locks and seals, both magical and mundane, layered intricately with each other in a masterful weave.

Brooks glanced over his shoulder as he worked to unlock the cage. “So uh, if you don’t mind me asking, why this one?” He shrugged, clearly asking out of boredom or mild curiosity. “We don’t get many transfer requests out here.”

“Got a score to settle with it.”

Teddy didn’t elaborate, but Brooks didn’t push. The man just nodded, clearly accepting that as answer enough. “Fair enough. Still one less leech I gotta keep tabs on.”

The final lock released with a dull clack, and the Hunter trailed a hand over the wards. They shimmered, pulsing a deep crimson before fading again. Reaching for the handle, Brooks paused long enough to glance at Teddy.

“It shouldn’t give you much trouble, long as you keep it restrained. It’s been here long enough it knows how this shit works by now. We’ve mostly been using it for training and educating new recruits. Put up a hell of a fight when we first processed it though.” Brooks shot Teddy a conspiratorial grin. “I mean, damn. Should’ve seen that motherfucker in the first couple weeks. Had the whole crew taking bets on how long it’d take to finally break it.”

Teddy’s face stayed emotionless, though her eyes flicked to meet the Hunter’s. “How long did it take?”

“Four months, one week, and three days is when Nadia officially called it but—” Shrugging, Brooks gave the door handle a firm yank. The heavy metal groaned, a deep metallic wail like a thing in pain, and swung open to reveal a box of pale firebrick. The creature lay chained on the floor inside. “—between you and me, I don’t think it has yet. You can see it in its eyes. The way it looks at you sometimes.” He shook his head. “Nah. Might be too weak to fight, and smart enough to mind its manners, but there’s a spark of something still in there. Don’t give that motherfucker an inch, unless you’re prepared for it to take it.”

Teddy stayed quiet long enough the Hunter just shrugged again and led them into the tiny room. He strolled inside, aiming a heavy kick at the creature lying curled up on the floor. The vampire grunted, chains rattling with the impact.

“Alright leech, up. You got a visitor.”

Slowly, the vampire moved to comply, pushing himself stiffly up and settling into a kneeling position, bound hands resting on his thighs. He didn’t look up or move beyond the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed air Teddy knew for a fact he didn’t need.

Inclining his head, Brooks stepped aside to let Teddy take the floor.

She’d waited for this moment for over ten years. Before she’d even known she was waiting for it, before she’d been able to hope this kind of reversal could be possible for a vampire’s thrall.

Now that she was here, standing in the room with one of her former masters—one of the keystone pillars of Jericho’s coven, his bloody right hand, his former lover, one of only a handful left that had still been unaccounted for, and the only one left alive who could tell her what she wanted to know.

Teddy still couldn’t believe it was real.

This was a victory. Retribution a decade in the making. Closure.

She drew in a breath. Then stepped forward, heavy black boots thudding hollowly on the bricks. The vampire stayed quiet as she approached, kneeling and hunched forward like just keeping himself upright was a monumental effort. He stared at the filthy floor in front of his knees without acknowledging either of the two humans in the room.

If she hadn’t gotten confirmation of his identity beforehand, Teddy wasn’t sure she would’ve recognized him. Naked, emaciated, filthy, muzzled, bound in iron manacles and so covered in marks of abuse it was a challenge to find an untouched patch of skin. Even the color of his hair was impossible to judge from the matted, shoulder length mess it’d become.

Teddy held her breath. Silence followed. The kind of heavy, pressing quiet, like watching lightning flicker on the horizon before hearing the thunder. A static charge to the air.

She let out the breath in a rush, heart hammering in her chest. Desperate. Frantic. Hopeful.

Furious.

“Mal.” His name dropped from her lips like a condemnation, and that got his attention. He slowly lifted his head, meeting her gaze through a tangled curtain of hair with wary confusion. “Today’s your lucky day, bloodsucker. You’re coming home with me.”

AN: So this is apparently the second time I independently had more or less the same idea. Teddy (and Will) end up in a kind of antagonist role with Mal, and the story progresses as a back and forth between both these povs as they navigate this reversal, and all deal with the messy consequences of the choices they've made and the lives they lived.

If you really want to boil it down to basic tropes I suppose it'd be whumper turned whumpee?

I'm pretty happy with the direction this one is going, I am pondering continuing it. The next 'chapter' would be Mal's pov, so probably much heavier on the whump than this one lol.

Edit: added links to header since this is now an official series

#whump #vampire whump #whumper turned whumpee #original whump #my writing #salt ocs #salt oc: mal #salt oc: teddy #salt oc: will #i actually completely forgot i wrote this #it was older than the other excerpt of a similar idea I posted #apparently my subconscious really wants to put these two #angry feral cats in a room together and see what happens #sorry guys you're my science experiment now #misc aus #vampire hunter au

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 1 year

Note

Can you continue the vampire caretaker series?/nf

Hi there anons! I would love to continue Vampire Caretaker! Thank you all for your patience while I worked on it! Thanks for requesting this, here you go!

This final part is a bit long, so I put it under the cut!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Caretaker pulled their hood a little farther over their head. They hadn’t expected it to be such a sunny day. No matter, they would be home soon, and then they’d make some breakfast for their guest. They only wished Whumpee would be willing to stay permanently; it had been so long since they’d had someone who didn’t want to kill them after finding out what they were, much less a companion.

Caretaker opened the front gate, and the sound of distant screams assaulted their ears, thanks to their enhanced hearing. Caretaker ran with incredible speed into the mansion, hearing the screams get louder. They sounded like they were coming from the basement. Caretaker threw the basement door open and sped down the stairs. What they saw made their red eyes widen in horror.

“Ah, so nice of you to finally join us, creature,” a stranger said, “we’ve been waiting for you.”

As they spoke, Whumpee writhed in their chains, wailing in pain.

“What have you done to them?” Caretaker growled, flashing their fangs.

“I’ve given them a little something to get your attention, that’s all,” the stranger said, “but let’s just say your attention comes at a price. Coursing through their veins right now is a rather slow-acting poison, a bit different than the last kind I gave them.”

“You were the one who poisoned Whumpee,” Caretaker realized, “in the alleyway.”

“Brilliant deduction, you should join the secret service,” the stranger said, “as I was saying, the poison is slow-acting but by no means is it not deadly. Your friend has about a few hours of agony to go through before they die. Of course, I could be persuaded to give them the antidote…”

The stranger held up a small bottle of a strangely-colored liquid.

“What do you want?” Caretaker asked.

“I want to rid the earth of filth like you,” the stranger sneered, “it’s my mission to purify this world of aberrations such as yourself. Surrender yourself to me, and I’ll make sure your little blood bag here lives.”

“D-don’t,” Whumpee sobbed hoarsely, “please don’t.”

As Whumpee continued to scream, something snapped inside Caretaker. An instinct that they had worked long and hard to bury resurfaced. Before they knew what was happening, they lunged. One moment, they were at the entrance to the basement, and the next, they were on top of the stranger. Their clawed hands tore at the stranger’s flesh, eliciting a harsh cry from them. The stranger went to reach for a wooden stake at their belt, but Caretaker pinned their arms down. Their fangs were bared menacingly as they bit into the stranger’s neck. They were tempted to suck them dry, but the last thing this world needed was someone like them living forever. They drank and drank, relishing in the taste of their blood.

“Caretaker!”

Caretaker’s head jolted up and turned to look at Whumpee.

“S-stop,” they said, “you’re not a monster…”

Caretaker looked down at the stranger. Their breathing was short and labored, and their eyes were half-lidded. Caretaker wiped the blood from their mouth and stood. They looked around for the bottle containing the antidote and discovered it shattered on the stone floor, its contents spreading out slowly. Caretaker ran to Whumpee.

“I’m sorry,” they said, unwrapping the chains, “I’m so so sorry.”

“Don’t let me die,” Whumpee pleaded, “please.”

Caretaker nodded, cradling Whumpee in their arms and turning their head, exposing their neck. They tore the bandages off and bared their fangs. They sank their teeth into Whumpee’s neck, sucking out the poison in their system. Compared to the untainted blood of the stranger’s, Whumpee’s poison-riddled blood tasted terrible. That didn’t stop Caretaker from sucking it out. When Whumpee’s blood started to taste normal, Caretaker pulled away and spat out the contents onto the floor.

“There,” Caretaker said, “you’re going to be alright- Whumpee?”

Whumpee’s eyes were closed, and their breathing shallow.

“Whumpee!”

…

Whumpee stirred on a soft surface. The memories came back in fragments as they lay with their eyes closed. Whumper had poisoned them… Caretaker had tried to save them. Had it not worked? Were they dead? Something cold clasped Whumpee’s hand. They had never heard of angels’ hands being cold, but then again, they didn’t know much about angels. Whumpee opened their eyes, expecting to see their guide to the afterlife.

Funny, Whumpee thought, their vision blurry, this angel looks a lot like Caretaker.

“Whumpee?” the angel asked.

“mx. angel?” Whumpee responded.

“No, not an angel. It’s me, Caretaker.”

“…Caretaker?”

Whumpee squinted, waiting for their vision to clear. When it did, they saw Caretaker’s face staring at them.

“Caretaker!” Whumpee cried weakly.

Whumpee sat up and hugged Caretaker, though they were so weak that it wasn’t much of a hug. In fact, they immediately regretted their decision as a dizzy spell washed over them.

“Easy, easy,” Caretaker said, laying them back down, “don’t sit up yet.”

“You saved me,” Whumpee said, “again. Thank you.”

“I would do it a hundred times over for you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said, smiling softly.

Whumpee smiled back. Then they felt a twinge of fear twist in the pit of their stomach.

“Whumper,” Whumpee breathed, “the stranger- did they-?”

“They can’t hurt anyone anymore, I’ve made sure of it.” Caretaker said.

Whumpee’s eyes widened. Caretaker, they didn’t…?

“No, I didn’t kill them,” Caretaker added, anticipating Whumpee’s question, “I’ve just made arrangements for them to live out their days more peacefully from now on.”

Whumpee visibly relaxed at that. They were curious what Caretaker meant by that, but they didn’t press it.

“So, um, I was thinking,” Caretaker began, “once you’ve recovered, maybe I can help you find a safer, more permanent living space from now on. If you’d like that.”

Whumpee’s face fell. Of course, how could they have been so stupid? It was their fault Caretaker was put in danger, and they had probably overstayed their welcome anyway. While it was true that Whumpee had fantasized about making this place their home, they could see now that that was a selfish desire.

“Of course,” Whumpee said quietly.

Caretaker tilted their head. Why did Whumpee seem upset? Surely Whumpee wanted to get as far away from vampires as possible after all that had happened. While Caretaker would love nothing more than to have a companion in Whumpee, they couldn’t be so self-centered.

…

Caretaker escorted Whumpee to the front gate.

“We’ll get your bags from the inn, then we’ll head into the village to see what housing is available,” Caretaker said, “sound like a plan?”

Whumpee nodded quietly, their head down. A couple of tears fell, staining the ground below.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker asked, “what’s wrong? Oh-!”

Whumpee hugged Caretaker tightly, their tears falling freely now.

“I’m sorry!” Whumpee cried, “I know it’s selfish, but, you’re the first person that’s been kind to me in a long time, and I don’t want to leave you!”

Caretaker was stunned. They ran their hand up and down the back of Whumpee’s head.

“Oh my,” they said, “I’ve misread the situation entirely. I thought you wouldn’t want to stay here anymore after all you’ve been through. I thought you’d want to live somewhere safer-”

“There’s nowhere I feel safer than when I’m with you!” Whumpee sobbed.

Whumpee cried for a few more minutes. When their tears had reduced to sniffles, the pair pulled apart.

“Whumpee, I had no idea that you felt this way- that you felt the same way I did,” Caretaker said, “you’ve only been here a few days, and you’ve been the best companion someone like me could hope for.”

“Really?” Whumpee asked.

“Yes.” Caretaker nodded, “if you’re serious about living here permanently-”

Whumpee nodded vigorously.

“-Then we’ll go to the inn, grab your things, and bring them back here. How does that sound?”

Whumpee nodded, wiping their tears, and hugged Caretaker again.

“Thank you, Caretaker,” they said.

“Of course, Whumpee,” Caretaker said, “now let’s go before the sun gets too high, this hood only does so much.”

Caretaker and Whumpee headed to the inn to grab Whumpee’s things. They would bring them back to the castle, where they would start their new lives together.

… Whumper rose from their bed and strode over to their window, pulling the curtains back and gazing out at their yard. It was a perfect day for gardening. In the recesses of their mind, there was imprisoned their memories of their time as a hunter, locked away by the power of a vampire’s hypnosis. Whumper got dressed, grabbed their gardening tools and headed outside; the roses were looking quite beautiful this time of year.

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

Tags: @rainy-knights-of-villany ,@wolfeyedwitch, @lokigodofaces, @burningkittypoet, @a-crumb-of-whump, @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

------

ko-fi

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spiralofwhump · 2 years

Text

Marius & Oskar - Ground rules

Warning: Vampire whumpee, defiant whumpee, hunter whumper, stoic whumper, backhanded slap, going over rules, chained up whumpee, captivity, talk of breaking whumpee, ────────────────── Taglist: @whumpsday ────────────────── Marius had his back pressed against the stone wall, eyes closed as he felt his body repair the very last bits of flesh from his stab wound. But despite the flesh having been stitched back together, there was still an echo of an ache. That was the downside of things, Marius would’ve been in tip top shape hours ago but he hasn’t been able to consume blood in a while. The healing process was a tad slower and the aches lingered around. But Marius will survive, like he always has.

The vampire glanced down at his attire and scoffed in disgust, it was caked with dirt and dried blood; not to mention how his waistcoat had the hole from where Oskar’s knife made a home in his side. He looked like a dirty lowlife in these rags! Marius straightened his posture and adjusted his tie in an effort to look more presentable, though the chains on his wrist clanged as a reminder of his predicament.

Marius tugged at the chains but they remained strong, which isn’t a surprise. He didn’t realize it then but these chains had silver in them. Not enough to sear Marius’s wrists and make them useless, but enough to cause a slight burn and to hinder the vampire’s abilities. Marius gave one last pull with all his strength but closer to where the chain buried itself into the wall, perhaps pulling at the source would make a difference. As he pulled on the chain on the wall he muttered with venom dripping from his lips, "I’m going to kill that bastard, maybe I’ll put his corpse on display. That’d send a nice and clear message to the hunters…"

The effort was hopeless. Marius stopped while he was ahead, carefully rubbing his wrists with a defeated sigh. As Marius was about to consider counting the cracks in the wall to escape boredom, that’s when the sound of a metal door opening captured his attention. This day just keeps getting better doesn’t it? The vampire looked forward and watched as Oskar, his kidnapper, descended the creaky old stairs with a cigarette between his lips. His hair was as messy as ever and he wore a green field jacket and brown boots, not too different from what he wore yesterday.

Marius rolled his eyes and snapped, "Come here to antagonize me? Burn me again perhaps? Or did you perhaps finally get it through that thick skull of yours that keeping me here isn’t in your best interest?" He hoped it was the latter, he’s had enough of the awful basement. But Oskar remained silent, electing to ignore Marius as he took a drag from his cigarette. Oskar shoved a hand in his pocket before he walked over and stared at the vampire with an undecipherable look in his eyes. Without a word, Oskar leaned down and blew smoke directly into Marius’s face, who coughed and looked away in revulsion. Vampires don’t need to breathe, if at all but that doesn’t mean things like smoke and such don’t affect them.

It was disgusting being treated like this, the audacity of the hunter was almost shocking, but most of all, loathsome. Marius’s eye twitched with irritation, this hunter deserves what’s about to happen, he’s close enough after all. With a snarl, Marius launched forward and tried to swipe at Oskar but somehow, maybe it was the silver in the chains, maybe it was the lack of blood, but somehow he was too slow. He’s usually far more swift, enough to be considered a blur to some but this was so…sluggish. Oskar only had to take a quick step back to avoid getting his blood spilled, which he did as he shook his head in disapproval.

Oskar took another drag from his cigarette and said, "Good thing today is the day we’re going to lay down some rules, isn’t it?" Marius gave a halfhearted chuckle, rules? This is too good, he thinks Marius will follow some stupid rules? Good luck.

The hunter pulled his hand out of his pocket and gestured to Marius, "I think it’d be most appropriate to start with the most important rule, which you just tried to violate, mind you. Rule 1, don’t attack me." Oskar crouched down to eye level with Marius, who stared daggers at him, "I’m the only one who knows you’re here. What do you believe would happen if you murdered me? You wouldn’t be able to get out of those chains, I made sure of that." Oskar leaned closer but still out of reach. He spoke softer, "You’d starve. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with my rotting, bloated corpse with maggots eating away at my insides in the same room as you, reminding you of all your mistakes." Oskar leaned back and shrugged, "Sounds fun, but maybe that’s just me."

Marius went to open his mouth but closed it, remaining silent. He didn’t want to give Oskar the satisfaction of him responding. But the lack of an answer only made Oskar grin with satisfaction, "Ah. That’s what I like, silence. That’s actually rule 2, don't speak unless spoken to. Look at you, already making progress. Perhaps I should give you a pat on the head,"

This man is vile. The idea of him getting satisfaction from Marius’s silence caused Marius’s prideful nature to take over as the vampire spat out in protest, "Oh please, you idiot. You think you’re all scary but you’re absolutely pathetic, you know that?" He was pulled from his rant as Oskar backhanded him, sending Marius's glasses to the floor with a clatter. Marius paused in pure disbelief before slowly raising a hand to touch the stinging cheek, "Wha…" He trailed off, trying to recover from what just happened. The ragged hunter in front of him used the tip of his boot to lift Marius’s gaze towards him, "You speak when spoken to, you’d best remember that. You already violated one rule, try not to reach 3 strikes, understood? It’d be better for your health long term."

Marius stared down Oskar but kept his mouth shut. Oskar, seemingly pleased, continued, "Now rule 3. I told you this yesterday but you shall call me Sir or Master. I can see why you make your servants and thralls use them, I really do." Marius rolled his eyes, he might be being overdramatic but he wished Oskar would just kill him now.

"Rule 4 is to behave and follow the orders I give. I know this will be the most difficult of the rules for you to follow but don’t worry. I’m a very patient person." Oskar gave a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Today marks the start of your training into something beautiful. Or well, pitiful. Because you know what I’m going to do?" Oskar removed his foot from underneath Marius’s chin only to lean forward and grab the vampire’s chin, borderline whispering, "I’m going to break you down and open you up, dissecting your soul and mind apart till you’re nothing but a husk of what you once were." Oskar’s feigned smile turns into a genuine, but cruel one as his hand grips Marius’s chin tighter. His nails begin to dig into the vampire’s flesh as he spoke, "You may despise me and all that I stand for, but one day you’ll learn to fear me. Really fear me. Because I won’t be just some hunter, I’ll be your worst nightmare. And even if I scare you half to death, you'll always crawl back to me and grovel at my feet for forgiveness. "

Marius swallowed hard and kept his gaze on the ground, refusing to lock eyes with his captor. "Savor this moment, leech, because when I'm done with you, you'll be someone unrecognizable," Oskar let go of Marius's chin and took a step backwards with a sadistic glint in his eye. "Give you a taste of your own medicine, that’s how the saying goes, right?"

#whump #whump fic #whumpblr #vampire whumpee #defiant whumpee #vampire hunter whumper #hunter whumper #captivity #chained up #marius #Oskar #slapped #whumper turned whumpee

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patchworkorphan · 6 months

Text

The Immortal Hunter: part one

Heath stalked up the marble steps to the ostentatious mansion. The annual masquerade party was in full swing, the smell of blood permeating the air was intoxicating, and for a moment just outside the open doors Heath hesitated. Slowly closing his hands into fists and opening them again. It occurred to him that he could leave, and the idea was all too enticing.

Maybe coming here was a mistake.

“May I take your jacket, sir?” Heath looked at the servant and was glad for the red mask obscuring part of his face, it would make the night go smoother.

Though the servant wore a full faced decorated mask, through the eye holes Heath’s maroon eyes met blue ones staring back at him.

Human. Interesting.

“That’s quite alright, thank you.”

“Of course, Mr Cain. Mr Felix has been expecting you and would like a private audience as soon as you have mingled.”

“Would he now?” Heath asked, going to stand beside the servant leaning against the wall and pulling out a metal case of cigarettes.

He clicked his fingers lighting the cigarette between his teeth and took a drag, as he watched the boy from the corner of his eyes.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and the boy hesitated.

“Forgive me, Mr Cai –”

“You can call me Heath.”

“Of course. Forgive me, Heath, but with all due respect you’re a vampire… if I tell you my name- well, I’ve heard the stories.”

Heath let out a snort of laughter, looking at the boy plainly now.

“Smart boy.”

“In this line of work, I have to be.”

Heath smiled, taking a long drag then offering the cigarette to the boy.

“Do you smoke?”

“No sir.”

“Good lad. Smart lad,” Heath said genuinely, then cocked a brow. “Not smart enough to be as far as possible from a vamp party, though?”

The boy swallowed and looked away from Heath’s penetrating stare.

“What do you owe Felix?”

“Umm…”

“You don’t reek of any thrall,” Heath began, exhaling a lungful of smoke into the cool night air. “Which either means you’re in debt –”

The servant hesitated. “The party is in full swing inside, sir.”

“I’m aware,” Heath said easily, humour lacing his voice. “Full of loathful bloodsuckers like me who eat people like you. So, either- you’re one of Victor’s pets waiting to be turned, which I’m guessing not because you knew not to tell me your name… Or you owe him something. Feel free to correct me.”

The servant said nothing for a moment. Then faltered. A dip of the head. Then back to their rigid posture, head held high.

“Family?”

“How –”

“It’s always family that fucks you. Whether you like them or not,” Heath said, throwing the cigarette to the floor. Crushing it beneath his shoe. “You live a few centuries; you see the same mistakes. I’m not saying your family isn’t worth it. I’m just saying, there will be no thanks for your sacrifice. For the years you give up.”

“You say that as if you know from experience.”

Heath smiled again, winking at the servant. “Like I said, smart boy.”

With that Heath pushed off the wall, fixing his suit jacket and mask before turning to the servant, extending a hand.

“If all goes well, I hope I never see you again,” he said, and the boy looked as if he had just solved all his problems. Like his words had somehow lifted an invisible weight from his shoulders.

“I hope so too.”

Heath nodded, taking a deep breath before breaching the doors of the building.

*~*~*~*~*

“Ah, if it isn’t Chaos himself, hmm?” Heath turned and saw the familiar face of an elegant woman strutting towards him. Wicked grin painted in red, hair immaculate as always and delicate hands outstretched to greet him.

Heath took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Celeste, is it me or do you get more gorgeous with the centuries?”

“Oh darling, it’s not just you. I age like a fine wine.”

Heath chuckled, letting her lead him through the crowds of blood drunk vampires and love drunk fools who let the vampires tap them like maples.

“When did you get back?” she asked over her shoulder, her sultry tones carried like the word of God on a breeze, making music in his ears as they walked.

“I’m not back,” said Heath, eyes scanning the room for the reason he was here at all. “Just visiting Victor.”

Celeste laughed her beautiful laugh, both scathing and genuine at once.

“What’s so funny?” Heath asked, the Irish accent leaking out when he got defensive.

Celeste turned to Heath then, a manicured hand on his chest as she said with knowing eyes, “everyone knows what Just visiting for you means. No one can seem to get you out of that – oh what is it called again?”

“Ireland.”

“Just the same who seems to have captured your heart. Normally you have to be dragged away,” her eyes narrowed as she looked at his lips. “Just what could it be that’s piqued your interest this time?”

Heath smiled his dazzling smile at her and took her hand in his. “Can’t you just say it’s good to see me?”

“It’s good to see you,” a new voice said. Both Celeste and Heath looked to the left to see the host of tonight’s festivities.

Victor Felix stood to their left, a wine glass of blood in one hand, the familiar hint of a smirk on the corner of his quirked lip. He was dressed in a velvet navy suit, a purple cravat tucked into his wine waistcoat that matched his wine domino mask that had horns growing from the top. The devil himself.

“Felix!” Heath exclaimed, stepping out of Celeste’s arms and went to kiss each of Felix’s cheeks.

“Mio vecchio amico, it’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed.”

“We were just discussing his absence in favour of the Emerald Isle,” Celeste added walking towards the pair, her hand extended to Felix who took it and pressed a kiss to her now gloved knuckles.

“Celeste, gorgeous as always.”

Celeste just hummed, stepping back to be in line with Heath. Heath threw an easy arm around her waist keeping her close as he shot a megawatt smile at Felix.

“How have you been, Victor?” Heath asked, smile only half forced.

“I’ve been… busy,” Felix replied, looking between Celeste and Heath with golden eyes. “Where are my manners, dear boy, you don’t even have a drink! Waiter!”

A waiter appeared in less than a second, with a tray of wine glasses half full of blood. Heath took one, holding it at his side. Celeste took one too with a smile and a thank you, before taking a sip. Felix watched the exchange with calculating eyes, that same amused smile now shining in his eyes.

“I met your boy outside,” Heath said casually, and Felix looked towards him, daring him to continue. “Smart boy.”

“He is,” said Felix bringing the glass to his lips. He paused right before he took a sip, stare cutting through Heath’s and said, “reminds me of you way back when.”

“I was just about to say the same thing. Do you plan on turning him?”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Perhaps. It’s always good to keep the sharp ones, Heath. Speaking of… I have a friend I’d like to introduce you to.”

“Do ya now?”

Felix let out a short breath of a laugh, as if there was a joke that Heath wasn’t privy to. “I do. He even asked for you by name.”

“What an honour.”

“You boys are so boring,” said Celeste, stepping out of Heath’s hold. She placed a hand on Heath’s cheek bringing him down into a short, sweet kiss and said, “come find me after you’re done doing business at a party.”

“Of course,” said Heath. Celeste looked back at Felix then.

“Don’t keep him too long,” she ordered, and Felix nodded. Then Celeste turned and disappeared into the crowd once again.

Heath looked to Felix who turned and walked into the crowd, expecting Heath to follow, so Heath did. Through winding crowds, occasionally stopping to greet someone, or someone stopping them to greet Heath and welcome him back.

“It’s good to be home, no?” Felix commented as he led him to the back of the ballroom out towards the gardens. Heath kept his head up, eyes forward.

“I’ve made my own home Felix. It was never here.”

“You wound me. After everything I’ve done for you,” Felix said with a pantomime pout.

“That boy. Outside, the human –”

Felix stopped, stepping in front of Heath, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re going to beg me not to turn him.”

Heath shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And what would you do for me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to stop you from making the same mistake twice.”

Felix hummed, starting to walk again to the balcony overlooking the garden. When they got to the edge, Heath leaned his forearms over the rail looking out over the green expanse below. The garden was his favourite part of Felix’s mansion. It was the one place that was peaceful. When he was human, it was his brief reprieve from Felix and his orders, out in nature with the animals and the insects, the smell of the flowers calmed him. With his vampire senses, everything was too much, and the garden became too bright, too beautiful, too smelly.

“You wouldn’t like a little brother?”

“He wouldn’t like an older one more like,” said Heath taking a sip of the blood. Tastebuds tingling with iron. It was fresh. Heath hadn’t drunk fresh blood in so long.

Felix put his back to the railing looking at Heath from the corner of his eye. “I did miss you, you know,” he said quietly. “Even if you didn’t miss me.”

“Who is this person that wants to meet me? Have you been telling stories about me again?” Heath asked without missing a beat.

Felix cleared his throat, taking a sip of his drink looking back into the ballroom. “His name is Wolfe. Ah, and here he comes.”

Heath turned as Felix stepped away, going to greet Wolfe. He was tall. That was the first thing that struck Heath, that he was tall, taller than Felix. But where Felix was slim, Wolfe was broad. He was muscled to the point of being ripped under his white collared shirt and waist coat. A half smile was on his lips, stubble lined his strong square jaw that went up into his hair line where shoulder length purposefully messy hair lay perfect.

He also wasn’t wearing a mask, Heath noted, eyes narrowing slightly. A loose tie hung around his neck untied, a mask in one hand and his drink in the other.

“Felix,” his voice rumbled smooth. “It’s been too long, mate.”

English accent. Northern. That’s about as much as Heath could discern before Felix led the hulking stranger over.

His eyes were a piercing, opaque grey colour that sent Heath’s mind reeling. He listened for a heartbeat but heard none and when Wolfe outstretched his hand Heath took it robotically and felt no warmth. No pulse of blood. Yet his eyes were grey.

“You must be Cain, Felix’s boy, yes?”

“I’m Heath,” said Heath. Not friendly and not unfriendly. “You’re English.”

“Very astute. You’re Irish.”

“For the weather I am.”

Wolfe let out a booming hearty laugh, hand tightening around Heath’s with mirth. He cupped his other hand around Heath’s and pulled him in close for a hug. Wolfe swamped Heath’s frame, his strength unnatural even for a vampire and for the first time in a long time… Heath was scared.

“Good, good. The weather is shit in our parts, innit?”

“Never any sun to contend with,” Heath laughed, but at the joke or the fact that Wolfe finally released him he didn’t know.

Wolfe’s face levelled into a happy neutral expression. The same expression he walked up to them with. “Sorry about the mask, I didn’t want to greet you without you knowing what I look like.”

Heath glanced at Felix and nearly hated himself for it. Looking to Felix for a command. An order. A silent question. Does he need to take his off too? Heath decided against it because he could, because he was his own man. He didn’t need Felix to tell him what to do anymore.

“Felix told me you’re young. What is it? A couple decades?”

Heath opened his mouth, but it was Felix who answered. “He’s 149.”

Heath shot Felix a look, but Felix just smiled back like a proud father.

“Barely out of your fledgling days!” Wolfe laughed.

“Or maybe you’re just ancient,” Heath said twisting his lips into a smile. He could do this. Don’t show any fear. Play it up. It’s fine.

Wolfe laughed again, some ancient knowing settling into his eyes as he said, “maybe.”

Heath couldn’t hold the stare long, glancing at Felix beside Wolfe instead. “Felix said you wanted to chat with me?”

“Yes. I do. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all, what about?”

Wolfe fixed Heath with a pinning stare, his grey eyes enthralling Heath just a little bit to keep his attention and for a moment Heath felt his feeble humanity humming in the back of his mind. That primal fear of predator watching prey. The same look Felix set on him when he decided he didn’t want Heath to leave him.

“The immortal hunter.”

Those three words hammered through Heath’s skull, and if his heart still beat, he’s sure it would’ve beat faster at Wolfe’s confident words issued through a cool, casual tone that demanded Heath’s attention with those cold grey eyes.

Heath looked at Felix, mouth open, looking like an idiot and Felix tilted his head – a smile on his lips watching Heath squirm before stepping closer to Heath, and Heath could have preened at the familiarity of his sire so close even after he broke the bond.

“Felix told me you had history with it,” Wolfe continued, his voice a low rumbling drawl, smooth as gravel and gentle like a lion just before it was about to prance. Wolfe tilted his head regarding Heath with inquisitive eyes. “And with the old blood. The ancient blood, of course, that’s what enticed Felix to you in the first place I’m guessing.”

Wolfe glanced at Felix then. “I can still smell it on him, even after he’s turned- what was it, 140 years or so? That ancient blood is always tricky. Especially for a fledgling.”

“I’m not a fledgling anymore.”

“Not to you, perhaps,” said Wolfe eyes going back to Heath. “But when you live as long as Felix and me, a century is nothing but a blink of an eye.”

“So, what do you want with the immortal hunter?”

“Isn’t it obvious, dear boy?”

Heath’s hand tightened harder on his glass. “Obviously not.”

Wolfe hummed, bringing the glass to his lips, and swallowing a gulp of blood. Then he smiled showing his teeth and the blood staining his lips and canines nearly made Heath sick.

Wolfe looked at Felix. “I forgot how impetuous the youth of yesterday can be.”

Felix shrugged, “it can be fun to get them in line.”

“You have the patience of a saint, Felix,” then his eyes slid back to Heath, void of the humour it had been full of before. “I, however, do not.”

Wolfe took a step towards Heath and Heath took one back, his lower back pressing into the rail trapping him, with Felix on his left caging him in.

He felt so small. So weak, so human.

“We should chat, Cain. After everyone is gone, perhaps? Are you staying with Felix while you’re here?”

“No,” Heath said at the same time Felix said, “Yes.”

Wolfe grinned, a big hand clamping down hard on Heath’s shoulder. The grip turned bruising, but Heath didn’t wince. He didn’t flinch. He kept Wolfe’s cruel stare, even when Wolfe’s claws penetrated flesh and cut through his shoulder.

“I like you, Cain,” Wolfe said, withdrawing his hand. He put his mask on finally, and it felt like Heath could finally breathe again.

Wolfe looked at Felix then, “I’ll stay here too if you have a room.”

“Of course,” said Felix his eyes on Heath again. “Don’t disappear on us now, Heath.”

Heath said nothing as he pushed passed Felix, his mind swimming as he stalked back into the ballroom, downing the glass of blood before looking for Celeste. He needed to calm down and she was the only one who could soothe his nerves right now.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued Here

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oliversrarebooks · 21 days

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 50: Frank's Mistake

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tw: hypnosis

July 1905

It was hot as blazes out, even in the dead of night, and sweat was pouring off Frank's brow and rolling down his back as he waited in the filthy alley. It was much too hot to wear a leather jacket, but he wasn't stupid enough to go hunting without some protection from fangs and knives, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

Going home empty-handed wasn't an option, not tonight. His gambling debts were catching up with him at a rate his part-time kitchen gig would never cover. He feared bookies more than he feared bloodsuckers. After all, he couldn't ram a stake through the heart of a bookie, not unless he wanted to end up in jail.

And so, here he was, pursuing the lowest of low hanging fruit -- the fledglings that tended to gather on Sparrow Road near the railroad tracks. The payout was small but practically guaranteed, as long as he waited long enough. He just had to stake some unfortunate freshly-risen corpse, pull the fangs, and plunk them down at the guild for a reward. Far less rewarding than staking an old vampire with a manor full of loot, but beggars can't be choosers.

He was leaning his head against the brick, looking up at the moon, wishing a cool breeze would break the sweltering heat, when...

...he heard something odd. Something like music. Something that pulled on his attention.

A drunkard or merrymaker singing, perhaps? But the music wasn't raucous or off-key, it was...

...beautiful...

Only the softest of alarm bells rang in his mind as he left his hidden post to go wandering down the street in search of the source of the song. There were no vampires around anyway. He'd go look, and be back to his vigil in a few minutes.

The beautiful music grew louder as he stumbled into an alcove between buildings, finally finding the singer. He was a young man, pale and handsome under the moonlight, with possibly the most gorgeous voice that Frank had ever heard, one that wrapped around him like a warm blanket and coaxed him gently forward.

He was a vampire.

Shit!

That's what that delicious feeling trickling down his spine was -- enthrallment. He'd felt it before, of course, but never this strong, never so thick in his mind that trying to think was like wading through molasses, never catching him so off guard that he very nearly fell for it.

Relax... don't fight...

He reached for his silver knife, his limbs already heavy and slow. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from being taken entirely by that maddening voice.

The vampire didn't seem threatened in the slightest, even once Frank's clumsy fingers managed to pull the knife from its sheath. He stepped closer, his song intensifying, with a placid expression and piercing blue eyes. Frank tried to raise the knife, to assume a defensive posture, to do anything, anything at all, but sway in time to the vampire's song.

Relax, relax... no need to fight... no need to resist...

Why... why was his enthrallment so goddamned strong? Why did it feel so... so... so infuriatingly good?

The knife slipped from his hands and clattered to the cobblestones as the vampire closed the distance between them.

"You can relax," said the vampire in a musical tone. "Just relax. I'm not going to harm you."

"Like hell," he said through gritted teeth, using all his willpower to resist. The vampire was so close. All he had to do was grab a stake and end it. If he didn't... well, he'd seen plenty of what happens to those enthralled by vampires.

He just had to... grab a stake...

"Relax, hunter. You don't need that."

The vampire had the stake in his hand, tossing it aside. When did he --

He was going to die here. No, worse. He was going to be hypnotized by a vampire, made into one of their blood bag slaves. It had happened so fast, his mind snared by the song in an instant.

He'd let his guard down, too focused on his desperation and assuming that the only vampires near Sparrow Road would be weak fledglings. This vampire was obviously one of their nobility -- despite his simple dress, his bearing and power made that all too clear. He'd pay for this mistake for the rest of his life.

"Shh, shh." The vampire ruffled his hair with something like affection, leaning in close. "Just relax now, and let your mind quiet. Quiet, so that you can listen to me."

"I -- I don't --"

The vampire tilted Frank's chin up to gaze into his eyes, so blue, so deep, like the ocean. His song was deep as well, rolling like the tides, Frank's mind floating on the waves of the vampire's will.

So this was what it was like. So this was why so many thralls they rescued were in dazed bliss. Despite the threat to his life, it felt incredible.

"You can rest, hunter. I swear I will not harm you. You can rest so safe and deep in my control."

"In... your..." His body had long ceased struggling, his arms heavy and hanging limply by his side, his head slowly lolling in time with the vampire's beautiful voice. Only the smallest of sparks in his mind remained. "You... you've hypnotized me," he said dumbly.

"Yes, I have. You're completely under my control now. But you have nothing to fear."

It was true, wasn't it? He couldn't move, could barely talk, and his ability to think was being stolen away by the moment. After all these years, he'd finally been caught. He'd be made a slave in this vampire noble's manor, his mind ensorcelled. His only hope would be one of his fellow hunters coming to destroy this monster and rescue him.

But who among the hunters could stand against this monster's voice, his irresistible aura?

Be still, the voice called to him, and he was so still, in body and in mind. Be still and listen. Relax and listen. Listen...

He blinked his heavy eyelids. Yes, he would listen. He'd listen to anything this vampire had to say. He'd listen to this song forever. He understood now why some thralls kicked and screamed to resist being rescued.

"Believe it or not, I actually wish to hire you -- but I didn't think the guild would take kindly to a vampire striding in among them with a job. I have a task that requires a hunter. Many hunters, in fact."

"I'll do it..." His voice slurred, thick with drowsy enchantment.

"That's a good hunter," said the vampire, and Frank's heart soared. "Your task is to kill a vampire, actually, one far more of a threat to humanity than I am. Does that interest you?"

"I'm good at killing vampires. I can kill a vampire for you."

"The vampire in question is far more powerful than I am -- that's why it will take more than one. As many as I can hypnotize, really, and the more experienced, the better."

Frank nodded slowly.

"You wish to serve me, don't you?" the vampire hummed in his ear.

"Yes..."

"This is all you need to do for me tonight. I want you to go back to your guild and let them know that there are several dangerous vampires preying on humans in Bellwood Park. I wish for you to gather two or three of your companions and bring them there in the next few nights. When you arrive at Bellwood Park, you will not warn your companions in any way when you hear the sound of my voice. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"You'll help make sure they listen, just as you are. You want them to be as relaxed and content as you are right now, don't you?"

"Yes... they need to listen..."

"You won't breathe a word of me or my powers to anyone between now and then. This experience will seem like a distant, hazy dream until you hear my voice again. But you'd do anything to hear my voice again, wouldn't you?"

"Anything..."

"That's right, hunter, you're doing so well." The vampire hummed gently in his ear, further melting his mind into bliss. "Now let's repeat that a few times to make sure it all sinks in..."

Be quiet and listen.

And he did.

---

When Lex opened the door to his manor, he found the windows open to the night air, the gas lamps cheerfully flickering, and bright guitar music coming from the music room. The smell of bacon and eggs still hung in the air from his thrall's breakfast, as did the delectable scent of human.

After so many lonely years, his manor felt like a home instead of a grave.

He wanted to rush to greet Fitz, but it wouldn't do with the hunter's sweat all over his hands. It was a sordid business, but a necessary one. There was no doubt that no matter how many hunters he bound to his cause, no matter how much information and advantage he gave them, many would fall by his sire's hand.

But wouldn't a vampire hunter wish to die nobly in the service of destroying a great evil? They wouldn't die by his hand, but the Maestro's, and many other humans would be spared by their sacrifice.

Truthfully, there was only one human whose safety concerned him.

Lex washed thoroughly to rid himself of the stench of fear and exertion, reflecting on the night's work as he splashed water onto his face. Tonight's find had been a lucky one, a seasoned hunter found by chance near a fledgling haunt, one who had connections to the guild. With luck, he'd bring more compatriots with him next time. It was a risky business to enthrall several trained hunters at once, but Lex was confident in his abilities. None had ever resisted his voice long enough to pose a threat.

Satisfied, he opened the door to the music room to find his precious thrall strumming his precious guitar, the gas light illuminating his golden hair. He looked up at Lex with that cheeky grin. "Well, good evening, sir, I was wondering where you were."

"I had some matters to attend to."

"Ah, yes, matters. That explains everything, sir." He laughed. "Is there anything I can do for you? I'm eager to serve, Master," he said, jovially sarcastic.

Oh, he was such a pleasure. So full of life. So blissfully unaware of how deeply he was ensorcelled. The perfect thrall, all for Lex to enjoy.

This was why. This was why he was going to risk himself consorting with hunters. This was why he had to kill his sire now, before he took Lex's precious thrall away and broke him, a treasure he'd never regain once lost. This was worth putting everything on the line.

His need was rising within him, spurred on by Lex's earlier expenditure of magic and the delicious aroma of blood that permeated the music room. "I think I would quite like to feed, if that's all right with you."

Fitz's hand dropped off the guitar strings, his eyes going wide and glassy on cue. "Yes, Master," he half-whispered, no hint of teasing in his voice now. "Please, Master, drink. I'm all yours."

"Yes," he said, taking the guitar away and settling it onto the stand. He sat down next to Fitz, cupping his chin in his hand. "Yes, you are. You're mine."

"I'm yours, sir."

Lex hummed in Fitz's ear. Unlike with the hunter, he didn't need to push obedience into Fitz's mind. It was already there, just under the surface, easily pulled to the forefront by Lex whenever he needed it. Instead, he gave Fitz the only thing he really seemed to want: to be wanted.

I want you, I want you, I want you.

Fitz gasped as Lex's fangs pierced the place where his neck met his shoulder, making truly indecent noises and gripping the back of Lex's shirt as Lex hungrily lapped at the blood. It was so impossibly delicious, like no other blood he had tasted, and Lex would do anything to be able to drink it for the rest of his days.

There was no doubt about it -- he was having feelings towards Fitz which were highly inappropriate to have towards a thrall.

As he drank, he could feel his memories and thoughts mixing with Fitz's, and welcomed the sensation, eager for Fitz to know how much he was cherished. In Fitz's thoughts, he could feel warm sunshine on his skin, the taste of a crisp apple in his mouth, the riotous colors of flowers in the spring. He could feel human. Almost human enough to love Fitz.

But he wasn't human. It was a fleeting illusion caused by their connection. He loved Fitz, but only in the ways a vampire could: the desire to possess, to control, to consume.

And Fitz would never love him in the ways of a human, either. He was hypnotized to feel pleasure and crave his master's feeding. Fitz's love was also nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

But the illusion of sunshine was far better than none at all, and Lex was tired of denying his cravings for so long.

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Wow, I can't believe it's been fifty parts of The Rare Bookseller! Thanks for reading this far, and thank you so much for all the reblogs, comments, and appreciation!

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