reminder that you can and most certainly should be self indulgent in your whump writing. no that's not too much blood. yes you should add a whipping scene. you think it's over the top? it's not enough. if you're not giggling and screeching internally and kicking your feet then what even is the point
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Kane & Jim #55: Feeding
Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist
content: recovery, vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker
happy 2 year anniversary to kane & jim~! hard to believe it's been 2 whole years since i started writing...
wrote while listening to melodies of refresh by tenno gabni
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Kane woke and looked to the door. Just like every morning the past week, it was a normal door. No silver. No lock.
He changed and washed his face, creeping upstairs with the hesitancy of someone who knew he wasnât allowed, despite knowing full-well that he was: Jim had made that clear. He felt too quiet, his ankles free of chains.
It was early morning, early enough that the sun hadnât risen yetâthat terrifying tell-tale glow didnât shine from behind the curtains. Jim wouldnât be awake for hours, resting upstairs while Kane slunk around in the dark, in his own house.
Kane couldnât fathom how much trust that must have required. He still couldnât believe heâd earned that much.
The fact that Jim was still feeding him his own blood was a miracle in itself. Heâd given a time limit of one month. One month for Kane to get used to freedom, to going out on his own, traversing society like a normal person after years as a prisoner. An adjustment period, Jim had called it, his mercies never-ending in the face of Kaneâs fear of running to and from the border on his own.
There was no way Kane could ever repay it, not in a thousand years. But he at least had to try.
He turned the knob on the stove. It was something familiar, having owned a stove himself for heating up the contents of blood-packs in his time before he came to own Jim. Human stoves, like their food itself, were more complicated: four burners instead of one, all with dials offering various degrees besides just âonâ or âoffâ.
And it was something he hadnât done since before.
The circle of flames flickered to life, blue and hot and threatening.
He quickly turned it back off, luckily managing to control his strength and not break the delicate knob.
Deep breaths, Jim had said, more times than Kane could count now. Look at me. Youâre okay. No oneâs gonna hurt you. Youâre safe here, remember?
Kane took a deep breath in, playing Jimâs soothing affirmations through his head, exhaling slowly. Thatâs it, there you go, the memory of Jimâs voice encouraged. Youâre alright. No hurting.
After a few more of those, he turned the burner on again. The flames flicked back to life, and Kane watched them silently.
-
Jim woke, shook off the nerves, and marked another day off his calendar. Seven days down, twenty-one more to go, and then no one will take his blood ever again.
He could stop it now, if he wanted to. He knew he could. Kane hung on his every word like he was some kind of divine prophet. But once he stops, Kane has to start getting blood from vampire territory, and heâd have to talk to his parents to get the money to buy it⊠and it was too obvious he wasnât ready.
Jim knew that feeling, going from years of captivity and isolation to suddenly being a person again. He knew how hard it was, even with support. There was no reason for Kane to have to rush into it immediately. The guy could barely go outside at night on his own he was so afraid, and he was a vampire. No, a monthâs time would do him well.
Still. He couldnât help but count the days until it was over.
As he stepped into his slippers and headed downstairs, he stopped in his tracks, hearing someone futzing around in the kitchen.
It was going to take Jim a while to get used to that, Kane roaming freely in his house. At night, even. He knew he could ask Kane to leave once he finds his bearings, but⊠despite the deep-seated terror, he knew he was safer with Kane here than without. Kane brought Laken home, after all. If any vampire came for him, Kane would save him, too. At least, he hoped so.
He continued down. âKane?â
âGood morning!â came the cheery reply. That set Jimâs nerves at ease, at least. Right. Kane was friendly, now.
âMorning. You sleep okay?â Jim asked. As he made his way through the living room toward the kitchen, he noticed a distinctly⊠delicious smell. That couldnât be right.
âBetter! And you?â Kane appeared in the doorway, a big, fanged grin lighting up his face. It was a sight Jim had already long gotten used to by now, one that brought him pride instead of fear.
He shrugged. âYou win some, you lose some. Hey, are you, uh⊠cooking?â
Kane held out a hand. âI am! Please come sit?â
Now he was smiling, too. âHaha, okay.â
Jim took his hand and let Kane lead him to the kitchen table, where a plate full of blueberry pancakes sat. They looked a bit offâundercooked, a little torn upâbut the fact that they were there at all was astounding.
He sat down. âHow did you even do this? You donât cook.â
âI watched you,â Kane admitted sheepishly. âIn the mornings. I really wanted to make you something, and I didnât want to waste food by just guessing and doing it wrong, so I started paying close attention, and this seemed like the easiest thing to copy⊠are they okay?â
âWell, letâs see!â Jim cut into oneâ definitely undercooked. It oozed out around his knife, but Lizâs failed attempts at cooking had given him ample practice in this field. He popped it in his mouth without a care. âItâs great, Kane. Especially for your first time ever cooking anything. Thank you.â
Kane brightened up even further at the praise, sitting in the chair adjacent. âI know itâs not the same at all, but I wanted to feed you too, somehow. Like you feed me. I was wondering⊠if you could teach me to cook?â
âYou donât have toââ
âI want to,â Kane insisted. âI really, really do. But I donât want to impose! I can always ask Laken.â
Jim cut away the less-done bits of the pancake he was working on, scooping up another bite. âAlright, if youâre really sure. Yeah, I can teach you. Doesnât human food smell, like, really bad to vampires, though? Like itâs rotten or whatever?â
âIâll manage.â Kane bore no obvious worry of the issue. Clearly, a bad smell was not something that registered to him as a concern any longer. âThank you.â
It wasnât until Jim had finished his breakfast and was about to get up that Kane spoke again, the smile fading from his face. âThere was something else, actually.â
âOh?â Jim put his plate and utensils back down.
Kane got down from his seat to kneel on the floor.
âKane, buddy,â Jim said softly, sliding into that placating tone he always used when trying to calm the vampire down from one of his panics, âYou donât have to do that.â
âI know. Itâsâ itâs to show respect. Please.â As Kane looked up at him with those intense red eyes, Jim could see no fear at all.
âWell, okay then, I guess. Whatâs up?â he asked.
âI want to thank you. For everything,â Kane spoke carefully, as though each word was precious. Rehearsed. âFor taking me away from the hunters. For not hurting me, even though you could have, even though you had every reason to. For helping me calm down when I panic. For feeding me, your own blood, even though itâs so hard for you, just so I wouldnât starve. For giving me clothes and bedding and music and happiness again. You gave me my life back, but I owe you so much more than just my life. Because without you, I wasnât dead, I wasâ I was there. And you saved me.â
Tears welled up in Kaneâs eyes as he stared up reverent, overcome with emotion. âAnd I was thinking about all the times Iâve apologized to you, I was too afraid to do it right. I was justâ I really was sorry, Iâve been sorry for a long, long time, but in those moments, Iâve always just been focused on not being hurt⊠but you would never hurt me. I see that now. Jim, I am so, truly sorry for hurting you. For every single time I hurt you, big and small, for those five years and since, I am so, so sorry. I was unimaginably cruel to you, and no one deserves that, but especially not you. I know that back then I told you the opposite, but I was wrong. You deserve to be happy! And I took that from you.â
Kane placed a hand over his heart. âAnd I swear to you, I will make it my lifeâs mission to give you back that happiness. I am loyal to you, Jim. Forever.â
He put his hand down. âThatâthatâs all. Thank you for listening.â
Jim sat in silence for a moment, absorbing it all. Wasnât this why heâd originally taken Kane in? Wasnât that the excuse heâd usedâ he wanted Kane fear-free enough to have an actual discussion about back then, without him devolving into a terrified, sobbing mess? He could do that, now. How long had he been waiting to hear Kane admit that he hadnât deserved it after all? Fifteen years?
Oh, he was so unprepared for this conversation. He needed all kinds of psyching-up before they could have that talk.
âYou donât have to say anything,â Kane added quietly. âI just wanted you to know.â
âRight. Yeah,â Jim said, snapping out of it. Just because Kane was ready didnât mean it had to be now. It could be any time, when he was ready, too. âThatâs⊠wow. Hey, itâs okay,â he tried, far more comfortable comforting Kane than the other way around. He grabbed a tissue, handing it to him. âI mean, not theânot what you did. I mean itâs okay now. Um, thanks, is what I mean, I guess. For really apologizing.â
Kane wiped his eyes. âItâs the absolute least I could do. Everything I have is something youâve given to me. Nothing hurts anymore.â
âGood.â His sincerity brought a smile to Jimâs face. âYou know, maybe cooking isnât the best idea if youâre afraid of burns? Itâs not gonna happen every time, but even I get myself once in a while. Just thought I should warn you.â
âYou give me blood,â Kane pointed out. He didnât elaborate. He didnât need to. âPlus, youâll be there. Right?â
âYeah. Iâll be there.â Jim patted him on the shoulder.
Kane smiled back up at him. âThen Iâll be okay.â
-
taglist in reblogs
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I know itâs been awhile since Col starting talking and this may have been asked before, but did Col ever tell Linden Chu (the teddy bearâs) name?
hello friend, no he never did! I don't think Linden has ever asked- since Chu lives in the bedroom he hardly ever sees it
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Iâm sorry if this might come weird but I was scrolling down your blog and I saw a user named meetmeinhellcroutons who recommended a fic titled âThe Monsterâs Heartâ. I just wanna thank the both of because I have been looking for that fic for agesss. đ
Thank you so much!!! Itâs one of the first whump series I read, Iâm surprised it got long already!
hey that's so good!! so pleased you found it again!
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hello! i do hope you are doing well these days, we miss you and your writing. take all the time you need to focus on all your other life things and we will be here when you're ready to jump back into it!
thank you my lovely <3 I am so so lucky to have asks like this and I truly appreciate it so much! and you're right that I'll jump back into this blog one day, I don't think I could ever abandon it, it means far too much to me :")
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đđđ thank you so so much!!! I'm so happy you found the story again and that it means so much to you đ„Č this was so amazing to read... I'm really touched and humbled you enjoyed my boys and their adventure enough to write me this absolutely lovely reblog. thank you!!
Tomas and Rowe - The End
FUCK IM EMOTIONAL
Masterpost
@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory
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Still clutched tightly in Tomasâs arms, Rowe started to babble through his tears. âWh-wh-why did you, when you had the- the man round fr-from work, why did you pretend you would hurt me, it sc-scared me, it, it-â
âIâm sorry,â Tomas replied, not questioning it. In fact, it felt as if heâd wanted to apologise for a long time- properly apologise. To a version of Rowe that had the capacity to understand it. âIâm sorry, Iâm so sorry, Iâve made so many mistakes and it wasnât right, I never ever want to scare you. I canât explain it.â
âThank you. I just- I donât know why I said that first,â he almost laughed, although it caught around the lump in his throat. âIâm so happy to be back.â
âReally?â Tomas said, completely earnest, and Rowe cried harder, nodding. âIâm so happy, I missed you so much, I canât believe itâs real, I canât, youâre back, you, oh my god youâre bleeding everywhere-â
âI missed y-you so much.â
Roweâs words died in his throat. He was crying too hard.
âLet me look at you,â Tomas coaxed, pushing Rowe off him as gently as he could, but his grip hardened when he saw Roweâs hand. âOh my god.â
âIt hurts, it hurts s-s-so much, he cut-â Rowe unwrapped the makeshift bandage with a shaking hand, and whispered, âhe cut it off.â
Tomas felt the blood drain from his face. His mouth hung open for a few seconds in shock, before he forced himself to act, to help. To do what heâd always tried to do.
âIâll run a bath, Iâll get painkillers. Itâll be okay. I can-â
âN-n-n-no hospitals, please.â
Tomas squeezed his uninjured hand. âNo hospitals tonight. But this is⊠okay. For now, let me do my best.â
-
Tomas sat Rowe down in the bath, like heâd done after he first got him. Back then, Roweâs cuts and bruises, his whip marks in particular, had almost made him throw up. He had had to leave. But now, although his heart broke a thousand times more, he could feel the way he had numbed to the gore. He cleaned Roweâs hair, under his fingernails, between his toes, scrubbed the back of his knees that were grimy from his excessive kneeling. He did his best with Roweâs missing finger. And he kept himself still, when he saw his missing teeth.
He still cried. But he stayed by Roweâs side, until the bath water was a murky grey, and dawn was reaching her orange fingers over the hill.
-
At noon the next day, Tomas hit dial, and pressed his lips together. He rocked on the balls of his feet gently, using up some of his excess energy. After three rings, he heard, âTomas?â
Lucaâs voice was heavy with worry.
âHeâs back,â Tomas said.
He heard Luca gasp, and a muffled oh my god. âIs he okay?â
âNo, but- heâs home. Heâs back. In mostly one piece. He rang my doorbell in the middle of the night.â
âJesus, Tomas. Thank fuck. I really donât know what to say. Can I come over, orâŠâ
Tomas cast his eyes to the staircase. Rowe was upstairs, resting, letting the painkillers do their job. He had offered him vodka, to really numb him, but Rowe had refused. Probably for the best.
âI think⊠in a few days, if you wouldnât mind waiting. Itâs not that he doesnât want to see you. I just- he still needs a lot of help. I just want to get everything more or less sorted as soon as I can, you know?â
âOf course,â Luca replied, not missing a beat. Even over the phone, Tomas could see Lucaâs face. Not a drop of pity across it- just kindness, and a lot of care. âGives me time to get a suitable gift together. You just let me know, okay my boy?â
He smiled. Luca knew Tomas liked that pet name. âOkay. See you very soon.â
âSee you soon. And hey-â he cut in, just before Tomas could hang up. âI love you.â
Tomasâs face softened, and he closed his eyes. Like a boulder, steadfast as the river gushes around it, he let himself feel calm and secure for that moment. âI love you too. Bye, Luca.â
He put his phone away and went upstairs. Rowe was lying in bed. He barely stirred when Tomas came in, which could have been a sign of extreme exhaustion, or perhaps because Tomasâs presence didnât scare him anymore. He perched on his bedside, and took his hand.
âYou know, donât you? You know I have to take you to the hospital.â
Roweâs eyes opened slowly. âPlease donât. Please.â
âItâs okay. Iâll take you to the human one.â
His face lit up beneath the weak, pained expression. âR-Really?â
âYeah. Donât you worry about it. Iâll sort it all out, pal.â
âBut I- I- I look more like a Pet than ever. Like what a Pet is m-meant to look like. Beaten the fuck up and practically left for dead.â He paused. âSwearing feels good.â
Tomas smiled. Rowe let his trust overcome his fear, and smiled back. âIâll sort it. I promise. Iâll make sure youâre looked after, and Iâll be there the whole time.â
âOkay, Tomas.â Rowe sank back into his pillow.
Tomas got up quietly and left him to his rest. He had some savings, ready for an emergency such as this. Knowing the people of his town, he knew the doctors and nurses wouldnât say no to a hefty bribe. He felt different now- more hardened, after seeing the depravity some people were capable of, and others were subjected to. Was it really immoral, to bribe someone to treat Rowe like a human? He thought not.
That night, he and Rowe slept together, in Roweâs room. Tomasâs room had been the one Kasia broke into, of course. Rowe slept on the right hand side, next to the bedside table, which supported a lamp and a new book. Tomas took the left, closer to the window, watching the glowing lights of the town. They placed a chair in front of the door, with a bell connected to the handle, and then Rowe felt safe enough to fall asleep.
. . .
âI just- I wonder what your real name was,â said Tomas, one evening. Both men were sat together on the sofa. Rowe had his book in hand, and Tomas had a needle and thread, repairing a hole in some jumper that was far too beloved to throw away.
âWhatâs in a name?â Rowe murmured flatly. He had long been tortured out of having any attachment to his birth name.
âTheyâre who you are,â Tomas replied, his voice barely audible. He had a tendency to mumble when he was sad, or contemplative. Like the words were less painful if he almost didnât say them. âSomeone looked at you when you were small and precious and named you.â
Rowe turned to him fully. âIsnât that what you did with me?â
Tomas said nothing. A smile tugged at his lips.
Rowe continued. âI mean, I was crying, a-and covered in blood, and all⊠new. I was new, in your- your eyes, at least. And you let me have my own name! It was your first gift to me.â
âAhh. I would still name you Rowe today.â
âI like it. Thatâs what I held onto, with Kasia. I held onto the fact that I was named, I was real. I was something unique.â
âYou could be⊠Rowe Grzegorzewski, you know.â
âYeah?â
âOf course. I donât know if weâre⊠well, I suppose there isnât a name for us, is there? But youâre family.â Tomasâs smile flickered. âIf you want to be.â
âI do, I do, I would love that,â Rowe said, leaning into Tomas and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Tomas hugged him back.
âGood, thatâs so good. This is your home, pal.â
âItâs⊠itâs felt like my home for a while. Even before Kasia. I remember wh-when they did my leg at the hospital. I just wanted to be home, to be with you, b-because even then I knew that I felt safe there.â
He pulled away, and looked up at Tomas fully.
âKasia, heâs still-â
âHey, hey, donât worry about it,â Tomas soothed, and Rowe fell silent, biting his lip. âI mean, what would you like to happen to him? In your heart of hearts.â
Roweâs eyes clouded over as he paused to think. âI donât want to know. But I donât want to ever see him again. I want to feel safe.â
Tomas took a deep breath. âOkay.â
-
Tomas waited until three in the morning, when Roweâs breathing slowed to an even push and pull. He slowly, slowly, crept out of bed. He took the bell by its ringer and lifted it out of the way. The chair was moved to the side, until he could slip out in silence. Perhaps, behind him, Rowe had heard everything. Perhaps he was wide awake, and knew exactly where Tomas was going, but decided it was better for his head if he kept up the guise of sleeping. Tomas would never know, and he doubted he would ever ask.
Kasiaâs jacket, complete with keys, was locked in the utility room, out of Roweâs sight. Tomas still had the hammer that Kasia had used to mutilate Roweâs legs, too. He hadnât known quite what to do with it. In his haste to help Rowe, he had never tossed it away. But now- he felt like he knew. He went to get it, now, and it was the first time he had looked at it since that horrific night. It was still covered in blood. Tomas took it firmly, and slipped away.
He had known what to expect, when he set eyes on Kasia, but it took the breath from his lungs all the same. Kasia was in the throws of starvation, his face barely distinguishable through the dried blood. He looked more monstrous than ever. For a second, Tomas considered how Pet sellers like Kasia could dehumanise all those Pets. Seeing someone like this, so reduced and bloodied and weak, it was as if they had lost their humanity.
Kasia said nothing, when he saw Tomas, and that unnerved him more than anything. His gaze went from Tomasâs face, to the hammer, and then he just closed his eyes. Tomas unlocked the cage and entered it. He realised his hands werenât shaking. In fact, as he lifted the hammer, they felt like they were moving on their own. Like nothing had ever been more right.
The facility was deserted, but if someone had been stood outside in that moment, they would have heard a single dull thwack, and the sound of footsteps walking away.
Tomas climbed into bed at six with newly washed hands, and slept soundly. Beside him, Rowe lay motionless, his breathing still undisturbed.
-
In the months and years following that night, Rowe and Tomas had ups and downs, as anyone else would. But the positive changes were undeniable. Rowe looked like himself, like someone with his own personality and interests. He glowed under the ever-rotating assortment of hair clips, rings, necklaces and bracelets, all gifted to him by Luca. He had thoughts that included wants and feelings and opinions.
There were days when the flashbacks overcame him, and he had to be cradled in Tomasâs arms, until the fit of crying was over. Some days he just couldnât bring himself to eat at the table, and Tomas never judged when he knelt instead. Some days Rowe needed permission to do anything. Some days he had to call Tomas Master. Sometimes he was so overcome with rage, suffocated by the injustice of his life, that all he could do was punch his mattress until his arms gave out. But Tomas and Rowe had spoken at length about it all, and they knew it was inevitable on the road to recovery.
Tomas slept in Roweâs bed most nights. When Luca was over, they often stayed up so late that they all drifted to sleep on the furniture downstairs. Other nights, Rowe slept alone. He still kept his door locked. Still whimpered and cried under the crushing weight of a nightmare- but they were becoming less frequent.
One day the newspaper featured a small story, a few pages in, about the fruitless investigation into the dead Pet seller who was found outside of town. Neither men saw it. The world continued to turn.
Rowe Grzegorzewskiâs life would not, and could not, follow the path of a regular humanâs. He would never officially exist, not while there was a Pet file still out there with his description on it. Kasiaâs Pet organisation vaguely remembered selling him, but he would forever be listed as their unclaimed property. He couldnât vote, couldnât work- although he was always able to do informal volunteering until someone thought to ask him for ID- and he knew that his trauma wouldnât ever truly leave. But now, he could at least start to process it. It had taken so much, for him to even see it as trauma. To accept that he didnât deserve that. He had finally agreed to speak to a therapist, one that Tomas had found, who worked with the Pet liberationists. She was gentle, unjudging, and they spoke once a fortnight.
Time marched on. The many glittering rings on Tomasâs fingers were joined by a very special one, on the finger that Rowe had lost. Luca, full name now Luca Grzegorzewski, pitched the idea of buying a new house, a bigger one. One that let Rowe have his own space, and Tomas and Luca have theirs. They eventually found it, in a new town. Now, when Rowe looked outside, he couldnât see the Pet hospital, couldnât see his old masterâs house, and could never see the facility.
The knowledge that he was building a life for himself, and that the worst was over, meant more to Rowe than he could ever express. But when he looked at Tomas, he knew he understood.
-
hey all! this is the final chapter of Tomas and Rowe. I had said I would write a final chapter, and an epilogue, but I decided to put them together as one big ending.
I have been working on this story for over a year! and I'm genuinely quite emotional finishing it ;-; thank you all so so much for the love you have given me and my boys. it means the world to me. writing this story has helped me grow so much as a writer, and kickstarted my dive into the whump community, and i couldn't imagine my life without out.
but that being said! I am still always, always, open for drabble suggestions or prompts. just because their story has been wrapped up doesn't mean we can't travel back to when Rowe was new and terrified and eager to please, and have our fun there! <3
I really hope this ending satisfied. if it did, and if you liked the series, then i love you!!!
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Yall seem to really enjoy these polls sooooo
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A whumpee that comes with an ownerâs manual.
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Hey you havenât posted in a few weeks, I hope everything is alright
hi anon, I'm all good! I'm on a little hiatus but I'll be back <3 I've just got my attention focused on other things at present
I've had some lovely asks lately and I appreciate them all so much, and I appreciate all my followers so much! they aren't going ignored, I'm just saving them for later
much love x
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your art has improved soooo much :>
anon ;-; this is the kindest nicest loveliest ask I've ever got. thank you so much!!!
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Ambrose and Elliot #24
Masterpost
Previous
Next
Warnings: threats of non-con, threats of recapture
Elliotâs breath hitched and his heart stuttered. Fear buzzed under his skin like a swarm of bees.
He waited in the kitchen until he was absolutely certain Mr. Horneswood was upstairs and asleep.
He crept up the stairs and slipped into his room. He closed the door and locked it.
There was no way he was going to sleep in his bed. Too much of an invitation. He could hide in the closet, but then he wouldnât be able to see him coming.
Sleeping at all was too much of a risk.
Elliot sat on the floor, back to the bed. He stared at the doorknob, waiting for it to rattle, waiting for Mr. Horneswood to burst through and take what had always been on offer before.
Two nights. One day.
He could stay awake. He must stay awake.
___________________
The bedroom was dangerous. It wasnât clear to him before, but as he sat and waited, his eyes darted around in the shadows.
His beloved items and furniture provided hiding places, but they made it easier for him to be cornered.
He could be bent over his nightstand, pinned against the wardrobe, even the chest could be emptied and he could be shoved in and locked inside.
Elliot couldnât stay in here, but it was the only place with a lock-
Oh.
Maybe Master Ambrose would let him upstairs? Mr. Horneswood wouldnât dare hunt him down if he stayed up there.
But Ambrose would ask about it. What if he didnât believe him?
Dawn approached as he thought in circles. By the time the light shined through the window, his bedroom had become as suffocating as a coffin.
He got up, and his vision went dark and blurry for a moment before clearing.
He unlocked the door, and slipped downstairs. There were chores to be done, no matter what he was feeling.
He bit his lip and glanced at the door across from his. It was still closed.
He breathed in and out.Â
It might be fine. Elliot had a new master, and maybe, just maybe, Mr. Horneswood would realize there were different rules now.Â
He went into the kitchen, and began to wash last nightâs dishes.
___________________
âGood morning.â
He jumped, and turned to see Master on the steps. âGood morning, sir.â
Master Ambrose helped him gather up the decorations, winding the strung flowers into a nice loop before putting them away.
âIâm going to bring some more wood in, alright? Weâre a little low. Iâd appreciate it if you could sweep the floor. Weâll move the tables and chairs back after. And I think thereâs some bacon in the larder if you havenât had breakfast yet.â
âYes, sir, thank you.â He watched Ambrose leave, the pit of dread in his stomach growing. He was too nauseated for rich bacon; and instead opted for a day-old biscuit and a bit of butter.
He grabbed the broom and moved to the far corner. There were lots of crumbs from last night that needed to be taken care of.
Elliot was lost in the work, making the floor clean and shiny, when somebody pressed up against him. He froze. Hands settled on his shoulders, squeezing.
âHello,â purred Mr. Horneswood into his ear. âIsnât this a pleasant surprise?â
Elliot whimpered, and Mr. Horneswood shifted to murmur into his other ear. âHe looked for you, you know. For quite a while. I figured youâd died.â
Elliot twitched, but he couldn't bring himself to move away.
Mr. Horneswood traced a finger over his chest before suddenly gabbing his chin. âIâm going to drag your sorry ass back home.â
He mouthed at his ear, and Elliot shuddered. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes.
âMaybe Iâll make you my little bitch tonight,â he mused. âJust us, before I have to share my favorite slut again.â
Oh gods, no-
âWhat reward do you think heâll give me for bringing you home? I know, how about I get to-â
The back door slammed open, and Mr. Horneswood jumped away from him.
Elliot couldnât look up from the floor, couldnât bring himself to move. But Mr. Horneswood brushed past him, probably to get his own breakfast.
Ambrose didnât come into the room, no matter how desperately he wished for him.Â
Elliot kept sweeping.
___________________
When the kitchen half of the inn was opened for the day, Mr. Horneswood took great pleasure in ordering him around.Â
He was nicer when Ambrose was in earshot, but his smug, satisfied face sent chills up his spine when Master was gone.Â
âYou look better now that youâre fed,â said Mr. Horneswood, as Elliot fetched him coffee. âAt least your new master understands the importance of actually having an ass to grab. Too bad for you; thatâll change.â
Elliot looked away. âHe- he doesnât touch me,â he whispered. âIt's not allowed.â
âNo? All the better then. I look forward to how tight youâll be.â
___________________
âElliot? Could you help me with this?â Ambrose called from across the room.
Elliot grabbed the topmost box from him, and helped set the delivery on the counter. He could feel Hornewoodâs eyes watching.
Ambrose disappeared down into the cellar.
âLook at you,â mocked Horneswood. âEven got yourself a new name. Do you want me to call you Elliot when I fuck you, or is âwhoreâ still on the table?â
Elliot said nothing. What did he mean by new name? He couldnât remember having one before. His old master hadnât given him one.
He bit his lip.
âAt least get me some more water while youâre over there,â Horneswood ordered, snapping him out of his thoughts.
___________________
Finally, Ambrose went upstairs to pray, and Elliot made the excuse of cleaning the upstairs windows in order to follow him.
The door clicked behind him, and he locked it just to be sure. Ambrose looked up from the altar.Â
âIs everything alright?â
âHeâs going to hurt me,â he blurted, âHe- I-â his breath came quick and shallow, and he struggled to catch it.
âSlow down love.â Ambrose crossed the room, hands on his shoulders. Elliot flinched away.
âI- I know him. From before.â Ambroseâs eyes went wide.Â
âAre you certain?â Elliot nodded, desperate for him to understand.
âHe- He said I was a- a slut and- and he was going to take me back, and-â his voice cracked. He gulped in air.
âHush. Come with me.â Ambroseâs voice was tight and firm, and angry. Master turned on his heel and stalked into the bedroom.
âHe said he was going to make me his bitch. And so many other horrible things!â Please believe me, please believe me, please please please.
Elliot followed him inside. Was he going to be punished?
Ambrose pulled the doors shut behind them, and the more layers of walls and doors between him and Horneswood the better. Even if Ambrose was going to beat him.
But instead, Ambrose pulled down a dagger and sheath from a hook on the wall. The hilt was a shiny thing, with gold and encrusted gems.Â
Master pulled the dagger out of its leather, and he could see how sharp it was.
Ambrose put it on the bed. Elliot didnât take his eyes off the shiny steel.
âDo you want to watch?â
âI donât understand, sir.â He looked up at Master Ambrose.Â
Master Ambrose looked at him, a cold glint in his eyes.
âIâm going to kill him. Do you want to watch?â
Elliot considered the knife. He thought about yesterday, how he somehow already knew how to fold the flowers even though he couldnât remember ever doing it before.
He thought about Mr. Horneswoodâs taunt about having a new name, despite being unable to recall an old name.
âElliot? Do you want to watch?â
âYes.â He looked back at Ambrose. âI have questions for him.â
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characters with prey animal rage
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happy new year everyone!! I hope 2024 brings good times and maybe some nice surprises too <3
I've been quite absent from this blog and it's solely because I've gotten hugely into classic doctor who. you'll have to let me have my blorbos for a bit. I have a whole lot of Sooty coming to stay with Linden n Col written, so I'm going to try and get at least the first part of that posted soon. I know it's been a while :")
in the meantime, please don't pelt me with rocks for coming here and not posting my usual OC stuff, but if anyone DOES fancy reading some doctor who whump I wrote, you can find it here
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The only sound in Roweâs head
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1IY-vvPzen/?igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
OH MY GOD why is that accurate as hell though???
(it's a video of a roe deer SCREAMING like a fucked car exhaust)
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i had this dream where while sooty was with linden, him, linden and Colton watched the new pjo series and just. AHHH.
awwww you dreamed about my boys!!! I hope they enjoyed the show...
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I found your Linden & Col stuff at 2 am last night and could NOT stop reading. Binged the whole main story and some of the other short pieces until it was after 5am đ€Ł Don't regret it one bit!!! Totally feeling that "I've only had him for a day and a half, but if something happened to him" meme right now. đ And also hoping Col suffers some more oop. I meant uh... suffers some more uh... nope, I meant what I said.
thank you so much!!!! this has really made me smile :D
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It has been many months (I think I sent you an anon mentioning this in May) but you might be mildly glad to hear that my mum has found a new, less awful job. She starts in the new year. I am on cloud nine about it tbqh. Hope you also have good things coming in 2024. Many hugs đđđđđđ
OH IM SO PLEASED i remember the first ask you sent me! this is a great time to get a job because you often get a bit of December off before everything starts back up in January. that's truly fab news and I hope they treat her much better there! many hugs back to you anon <3
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