Here there be whump

Part 5: Luis, Meet Bo (Again)

cw: captivity, bruises, restraints, threat of violent death as a looming eventuality, harassment. blanket warning for series: the men in the shop can be crude.

Luis understood why Nick brought Bo to the shop. He could keep an eye on him there. The guys would help him. None of them were going to clutch their pearls about it, or god forbid tell some cop.

If Nick left him at home all day he’d have to tie him up tight, without food or water, and that wasnt Nick’s style. He’d once told Luis - don’t do to an ememy what you wouldn’t do to a dog.

The guys in the shop were firmly in two camps. They either called Bo the “new secretary” with humor in their voices or that “little fucking rat” with contempt. 

Luis was in the former. Whoever he’d allegedly wronged probably had it coming. These local guys like Byron all thought they were Al Capone, but they were just big fish in very little ponds.

Keep reading

Bo, meet the garage

part 1/ part 2

cw: captivity, wounds, open wounds, bruises, touch-starved, caretaker knows whumpers, and is working with the whumpers, dubious caretaker figure, sympathetic whumper could be another title for nick. Bo is sweet.

Bo was in a small space, not much bigger than most walk-in closets. His new captor put him there. He also gave him a small paper cup filled with peanut m&m’s and put a hand in his hair before he left. The latter made Bo’s heart pound in well-learned fear, but he found himself thinking of it for half an hour afterwards, a hollow ache in his chest.

Keep reading

Bad Luck, Belle

Cam lets disillusioned boxbabe Belle attempt escape before her cruel and careless owner can come back from Miami to collect her. It doesn't go well, and the boxie returns two nights later to their doorstep. (Thanks for the suggestion, anon!)

cw: lady whump, pet whump, bbu, lady whumpee, blood, failed escape attempt, hurt/comfort, partial non-sexual nudity, numbness from anxiety, mild wound tending, crying, discussion of medical confidentiality being violated for bbu reasons. soft cam.

"Belle," Cam breathed. "What the hell happened?"

She was shivering. Drenched. A cut on her hairline was bleeding down the side of her cheek, diluting with rainwater into a sickly pink. Her hair was tangled and wild, new bruises joining the old yellowing one she wouldn't tell them about.

Max and Vampire Pet: Part 2

(part 1 here)

cw: pet whump, vampire whump, vampire whumpee, misunderstandings, filed fangs/ past tooth whump, bruises, bathing, biting, blood drinking, forced starvation of a vampire, hurt/comfort, it as a pronoun intermittently.

Max & Vampire Pet

(for those of you who expressed interest in this little AU of my carlo series <3.  can be read as a stand alone without having read the original series)

cw: vampire whump, implied long term abuse, pet whump, neglect, starvation, filed teeth, muzzles, restraints, hurt/comfort, ‘it’ as a pronoun sometimes but not always

****

The first thing Max noticed was that the boy was bruised and filthy, curled in on himself as if expecting a blow. 

Later, he couldn’t believe he made the poor thing ride in the back of the truck on a cold winter night. But when he’d gone to put him in the passenger seat the men who’d sold him had howled laughing. A vampire riding shotgun? What an idea.

So, Max put him in the truck bed and drove all the way home from the valley, wondering as they climbed the sloping hills through the pitch dark woods if vampires got cold the way people did. If that boy was back there freezing.

He fireman-carried him into the house. It seemed crueler to ask him to walk. But when he lifted him out of the truck bed, he heard an unmistakable sound of pain. 

It sounded just like a human. Like a person. 

He carried the vampire into his kitchen and sat him at the marble-top island in the middle, helping him into a bar stool since he was both bound and muzzled.The boy flinched when he flicked on the lights, huge pupils shrinking to slits even in the low wattage.

“His fangs are blunted,” the man with the baseball cap had said to Max. “He can still bite but it ain’t gonna prick you. You got a file?“ He said it like fahle. "Coz you’re gonna want to keep them filed way the fuck down.”

If his fangs were blunted, and he could not successfully bite, why was he muzzled? He stared openly at the bruising on the thing’s face, the matted hair. It was wearing oversized clothes, something that would fit a person Max’s size— certainly not this hungry and forlorn sight. 

The muzzle was eating right into the sides of his face. It had been left on some time, most likely used as a lead by men with seventy pounds on this creature, yanking his head this way and that as they pleased. 

“Can I take that thing off your face?”