#inthenight

[floodingthemask]

FLY BY MIDNIGHT - IN THE NIGHT

[mleighsquickspot]

In the Night...

The day has wound down. Salience fills the atmosphere. Attentions have been turned from day mode to night mode, the rhythm of silence is the current beat. Then from out of nowhere a loud crash can be heard. What was that? What has happened that has left an echo of piece being shattered in the once calm quiet air?

Within moments the house has come alive once more, urgent is the look plastered upon concerned faces. Up in a flash folks are on the move, the source of the disturbance must be found. Looking throughout the darkened rooms one by one is now an unnerving task. One goes to search while another sits waiting as if they are a character in a horror film waiting for the scream in the distance that thankfully never comes.

What was that is uttered once more, unsure faces look back and forth. All has been checked and nothing appeared out of place. The cause of the crash will remain a mystery for another day. In the meantime, lights return to their darkened state. Nerves that were on high alert a moment before are no longer on high alert. A cautious quiet has returned to the home, while sleepy heads once again perform their nightly routines, it's time to go to bed...

[aososbluesy]

IN THE NIGHT 🌃FEEL SO RIGHT🏂HOLDIN YOUR BODY TIGHT🫂CLOSE TO ME CLOSE TO YOU BABYYYYYY🫣OHHHHHWOAHH🥺

this song goes undeniably hard frfr LIKE WHY IS IT SO GOOOOOOOD

the vocals r so dreamy, especially hyesung’s. LIKE DUDE THEY SO SMOOTH. also eric looked really good. dongwan too. THE WAY THEYRE STYLED IN GENERAL I LOVE IT THE RINGS ARE SO COOL AND THE BAGGY SUITS

[jdrichards]

…in the night His song shall be with me—A prayer to the God of my life

Psalm 42:8

[rivevideopromotion]

CHRISTAFARI - Thief In The Night / Behold (Official Music Video)

[nathaliegaouyer]

[heller-castiel]

I thought these were on the same post help

F TZBRbrahtabtah

[rogerrcoyle]

in the night

[maracujatangerine]

90. Restless Night

CW: institutional slavery, pet whump, dehumanisation, box boy universe, cursing

Coriander was lying curled up in its own bed. The curtains drawn against the deepening night outside.

The pet’s whole body ached with exhaustion, but still, it couldn’t sleep. The bone-deep fatigue awaking memories of old, bad times.

Every time it tried to fall asleep, its body would start violently awake. Each time destroying any and all progress the pet had made on the way to unconsciousness. It was extremely frustrating.

It heard steps outside the door. Then, the gentlest of knocks.

“Cory?” Miss Lydia sounded hesitant, her voice low. “Is there anything you need? Would you perhaps like something to eat?”

The pet knew that if it just uttered the words, Miss Lydia would come and sit by it, as she had so many times before. It could almost feel the dip of the mattress as she would sit down, the comforting warmth of her body next to the pet, the soothing feeling of her hands gently carding through its hair and caressing its back and shoulders. The pet’s tense muscles would relax then, as if bespelled. Her mere presence would work like a sleeping spell, lulling the pet into dreamland.

Coriander longed for it. Miss Lydia’s presence, and sleep, in equal measure. But the pet couldn’t ask for it.

It was still so. fucking. angry.

…and upset… and scared… and not being a good pet… and sad… and ashamed… and regretful… and exhausted… and in pain… and confused… and still, so angry.

The very reason her presence would affect it, was the same reason it had panicked in the hospital. In this dark moment, the pet thought it might be the same reason it did anything at all. They had shaped it, moulded its responses, formed its actions, to be whatever its owner desired.

The pet considered just pretending to be asleep, but when Miss Lydia didn’t leave, Coriander finally replied.

“N-no, Miss Lydia. This pet just wants to sleep.”

She stood still for a moment outside the door, the pet could imagine her laying her hand against its surface.

“All right, Cory. I will be downstairs if you need anything.”

She tried hard to sound like every other night, but the pet knew her too well. It could hear the undertones of worry and sadness in her voice. After another moment of silence, Miss Lydia slowly turned and walked away.

*

Thank you all for comments, and reblogs, and likes! I really appreciate you all taking the time! 💖

If you are new to this story, the tale of Lydia and Coriander starts here. There’s quite a lot of it, and I hope you��ll enjoy it! ☺️

I also have another, shorter story in the works that focuses on hero vs villain themes. You can find that here.

*

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards-blog @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[wolfeyedwitch]

bailey what if everything was just an elaborate ploy from your whumper to get back at you. the heroes were all contracted. none of it is real

(rate this fear :)) )

Bailey shakes their head almost before you finish speaking.

"No." Their smile is bitter-bright. "Any other team, I might believe that, but not this one. Not here. Not... not Icarus."

That's why they'd come to these heroes in particular, after all. Would it have been less risky to go to another team? Absolutely. Picking the team of heroes that not only included the hero they'd most often fought, but the one they had hospitalized, felt much like handing them a scalpel and drawing a line to show them where exactly to cut. But this, this question, hit right on the reason they'd chosen to come to these heroes.

Bailey can't trust their own judgment. They have done so much wrong, things they can't even begin to make amends for. Who better to trust than the people who fought the hardest against them?

(And anyway. Icarus is owed his pound of flesh.)

---

5/10. Scary but manageable.

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world 

@dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow 

@multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff @scp-1296 

@livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly 

@neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump 

@heart4brains @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan 

@whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one 

@elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme 

@towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

[secretwhumplair]

Return

973 words | No Warrior (sequel to Passing winter)

Content | Referenced past trauma

Notes | Big decisions are made!

This is the end of the story, however, unlike with The monster of Lindborough, there are still a bunch of gaps I want to fill sometime :)

For now, this is it, though. I hope you like it! Friendly reminder I have a ko-fi, otherwise I'm also always happy to read you comments even if I'm bad at responding dfjkdkgjh <3

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em @itsleighlove @newbornwhumperfly @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots @scoundrelwithboba

»I want to go with you.«

This time, it was different. Everything was different, so much so Yves found it jarring he used the same words.

Runar had been right not to let him come last year, of course, he understood that with perfect clarity now; in truth, he had probably understood it then. But when last year, he had been fueled by fear — fear of what would become of him without Runar’s protection and care — as much as what little spark remained of his desire to fight for his people, now?

Now, everything was different.

Runar looked at him for a long moment. They were up at the cliffs, watching the sun set over the seas Runar would sail across soon.

He didn’t need Runar’s permission, really. He almost didn’t feel he did — he simply had to prove his valour like all who joined the warriors. But it seemed courteous to tell his lover first. They had been together — a couple — for months now.

»You’ll have to prove yourself,« Runar finally said, and Yves’ heart hopped at the way he didn’t argue.

»I know.« He smiled up at Runar, squeezed his hand.

»You’re sure, aren’t you?«

Yves nodded, his smile fading. This was a serious decision, and he couldn’t fault Runar for double-checking.

But to his surprise, after a moment, Runar started to grin. »It’s not fair to say I told you so, is it?«

»Heart of a warrior?« He had told him so. And Yves couldn’t believe it, not then. But perhaps it had been true all along.

He grinned back.

* All young folk who wanted to join the warriors had to pass a test of skill — they had to face one of the proper warriors in a fight, one on one. They didn’t have to win, strictly speaking. But all, and their opponent foremost, would judge if they could hold their own. It was a show the whole village came to watch.

It was agreed upon that there was no way Runar would be the one testing Yves. Yves agreed.

And yet Runar couldn’t help but wish it was him when he watched Signy approach him with that mad grin of hers. Some might argue she, too, was too biased in favour of the little thing, but from the way she pranced across the trodden-down grass within the marked circle, Runar had no doubt she wouldn’t be holding back.

Yet Runar knew these very thoughts were what made him so unsuitable. He could only watch, and hope Yves could handle himself as well as his sword.

It lightened his heart a little to hear the cheers from the crowd, as enthusiastic for Yves as for any of the younger kids born and raised here. Truly, this place had become Yves’ home, and even if he was found unfit to be a warrior — yet — he had a whole life ahead of him here.

Runar breathlessly watched the dull practice swords flash and clang, watched the swift steps of the pair on grass. He had watched Yves during his training a few times, and he knew how nimble he had become; he dodged and twisted, let Signy’s sword run off his like water, boldly shot forward like a little wasp.

Yet, Signy caught him on the thigh. It was a sharp hit, and Runar knew it must have hurt. He barely noticed himself jumping to his feet.

Yves scrambled out of the way; Runar couldn’t see his face, and he was desperate to know if he was overcome with the old fear, overwhelmed with memories-

Then Yves dashed forward, diving under Signy’s sword, and nearly got her back before she slid aside, experience and strength on her side. Runar shouted along with the cheers rising from the crowd.

It wasn’t much longer before Signy ended the fight, throwing an arm around Yves shoulder. »Yves!« she shouted, and the crowd picked up the shout, and Runar thought his heart would burst with pride, and with the wild happiness on Yves’ face.

* Yves felt his heart tremble — not with fear, not only — as the ship set sail, carrying him back.

He would go back.

With the sword waiting for him in the deckhouse.

For the moment, once the coast had disappeared from view and the last waves goodbye had been exchanged, there was nothing much to do. They were sailing before a favourable wind, and the new trainees weren’t on the first shift, so they could have a moment to smell the air and get a grip on the excitement fluttering in their hearts. Yves wasn’t much different… and yet, wholly.

He went to stand by the bow. The place brought back memories. Here he had cowered, a year and a half ago, desperate for a mercy he didn’t believe in.

Now, though, he got to look out across the waves the ship cut through under the expert guidance of the sailors, and smile when Runar took his hand.

»Are you alright?«

»Yes.« He watched the water, squeezing Runar’s hand. »It’s… I don’t know how… what it will be like. Over there.«

Runar hummed his compassion. »Whatever happens,« he said quietly, »I’ve got you. We’ve got you.«

»I know.« He leant against Runar. It was true.

The weeks at sea passed uneventfully; once the ship was becalmed for a few days, but not so long as to threaten their provisions; Brandr had taken to ignoring Yves wholly.

But eventually, a faint coastline appeared on the horizon.

The warriors not immediately occupied in guiding the ship towards a quiet beach where they could resupply, and start scouting, grabbed their gear.

Yves stood by the bow, between Signy and Runar, watching the land he had left behind become clearer.

His hand closed around the hilt of the sword Björn had made for him.

He was ready.

[secretsmutcorner]

A first attempt

1,192 words | No Warrior (sequel to Fall)

Content | NSFW (they don't get very far but there is penis), past non-con, name-calling

Notes | Yves pushes his boundaries. It goes... well, it goes.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em @itsleighlove @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots @scoundrelwithboba

Yves had never in his life felt this comfortable.

Another day was gone, and he lay in Runar’s arms, his hands easily tracing along the muscles in his — his lover’s? Could he call him lover yet? — chest. Runar was caressing him, too, his hand running in long strokes from the nape of his neck to his waist, and hesitating.

Yves was overcome with a rush of boldness, of cheek even. He grabbed Runar’s wrist and guided his hand back and down, a grin easily bursting across his lips as he stared a challenge into his face.

Runar chuckled, clearly surprised, but didn’t hesitate to grab his ass. Gently, like everything he did.

»How does that feel?«

Yves couldn’t answer immediately, too absorbed in the unfamiliar touch — a comforting unfamiliarity, too; the worry of being reminded had crept further and further into the back of his mind over the last few weeks. But as invasive as the knights had gotten, there simply hadn’t been much of anything there for them to grab at. Now, almost a year of good meals and swordfighting practice later, though… there was almost some kind of pride in the way he filled Runar’s, his lover’s warm hand.

That, and a sense of closeness outpacing the anxiety in its growth.

Instead of answering, he shifted forwards for another kiss.

»May I touch you?« The words, barely more than a breath, tumbled past his lips when they were free again, if only by hair’s breadth. He could feel Runar’s breath on his face and the heat rising into his cheeks as he heard what he said. As he processed the desire pooling in his groin. As he realized that, for the first time since the knights had torn him to shreds, he truly wanted more.

»You are,« Runar said, and Yves didn’t know whether he was really misunderstanding or gently rejecting him, but kissed him again regardless. No matter how much his hands prickled with longing, he, too, wanted Runar to know it was okay.

Maybe the warrior was shy in such matters. He couldn’t know.

Runar squeezed his ass while they were kissing, so softly he wasn’t sure it was on purpose, but he couldn’t hold back a groan.

You like this, little whore, don’t you?

He pushed the voice down like he had a thousand times before. It was becoming easier. It should become easier.

Runar pulled back, not sharply, just enough to give him a surprised look, chased by a grin. »Oh.« He kissed Yves again. »Did you mean-?«

Yves didn’t let him finish. »Yes.« He couldn’t look into Runar’s eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

»Well…« There was a deep almost-purr in his voice, a tone Yves hadn’t heard before that sent shivers down his spine, heated him up further. »Feel free?«

He traced his fingers down Runar’s body, warm and soft and strong, and he wasn’t sure his head was still working, and he put his lips in the spot his hands had just vacated, covering Runar’s chest in kisses.

His hands found Runar’s cock, hot and throbbing like his own, like-

Go on, slut. If your runty little hands work me well enough, I might not even stick it in, how’s that?

And then, louder, something more than a memory. Look at you enjoying this, whore. I told you so.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t.

He was sitting up, hugging his knees, tears forcing their way out of his eyes when he had just felt so good.

Always crying when a real warrior graces you with his body, the voice in his head mocked. It’s not your place to choose this, is it, little bitch?

»… sweetheart?« Runar’s voice broke through the shadows enveloping him.

»Please say my name,« Yves begged quietly, feeling, in that moment, that it was far too much to ask.

Filthy whore.

»Yves,« Runar whispered back.

Worthless toy.

»Yves.«

Bitch.

»Yves.«

Slut.

»Yves.«

Runt.

»Yves. Yves Yves Yves,« Runar whispered, over and over. His hand, very softly, ghosted across his back, and Yves realized he was sobbing, and then he threw himself against Runar’s chest.

»I’m sorry.«

»Don’t be,« Runar murmured, his strong arms wrapped around him. »It’s-«

»I’m sorry. I ruined it.«

»It’s not your fault. Shhh, sweetheart, Yves, it’s going to be alright.« And then, quietly, »I love you.«

Yves just curled closer into him, his sobs slowly ebbing as he found himself again, found himself in Runar’s loving arms. Where he had been. The whole time. Why was he crying?

Why were they chasing him, even after death?

»I wanted it. I want it.« But he wasn’t allowed, and he was still so helpless. Powerless fury swept through him. It would never end.

»I’m- I’m glad. But we can take it easy. Nice and slow, as much as you need.«

»I don’t want to! I just want to- I just want to be with my lover, is that too much to ask?!«

Runar looked into his eyes, then kissed away the tears that were spilling again. His hand rubbed circles over Yves’ back. »It’s not fair. But we’ll work it out, yeah? No matter which way this goes,« he added, planting another kiss on Yves’ forehead, »I want to see it through with you, if you’ll have me.«

Yves rested his ear against Runar’s chest to hear the reassuring thump of his heart, steady, if a little fast. »Let’s just go to sleep,« he muttered.

»Mhm. Would you… can I hold you?«

»Please,« Yves whispered, and they nestled down for the night, cuddled up together.

Yves didn’t sleep well, but when he woke in the morning, he found himself wrapped in Runar’s arms and Runar’s gentle eyes upon himself and he felt better.

»Good morning.« He kissed Runar, and Runar kissed him back, gently pulling him closer.

»Good morning, sweetheart. How do you feel?«

The dread question. Why couldn’t he live a life where him feeling alright was a given?

»I’m better.« Before Runar could respond, he added, »I’m sorry.«

»It’s not your fault.« Runar stroked his cheek. »I’m just glad you’re alright.«

»Hm.« Yves returned the caress, wrapped his fingers in Runar’s long hair. »I’d rather it’d have gone differently.«

A small, sad smile. »Do you still… do you want to… ?«

»Yes.« Yes, he wanted to continue. It was downright embarrassing how much he wanted to. »But you don’t… you don’t have to. You don’t have to put up with this.«

»Yves.« A warm, strong arm squeezed him, and he barely held back a sigh. »I’m not… putting up with you. I love you. I want to do this with you.«

»What if they did break me?« He wouldn’t have dared asked the question before, and even now it was a mere whisper.

Runar’s thumb stroked across his cheek again. »I don’t think it’s possible to break you, sweetheart.«

A mangled chuckle wrested free from his throat… but as the words sank in, he found he trusted Runar enough to believe them, a little.

He kissed Runar, and he would do it a thousand times again, and no one could stop him.

He would face this.

With Runar, together.

[a-crumb-of-whump]

ANB Drabble: Starved

Masterlist

Content: Starvation, captivity, pet whump, vampire whumpee, begging, creepy/intimate whumper, non-con touching (non-sexual).

I really wanted to hurt carlos a bit, so have this. it takes place early on in Carlos' life, when he's still not used to constant starvation and finds it harder to cope with:)

-

Three weeks without food should have been nothing to Carlos by now. After several instances in which he’d been deprived of blood for years before getting the privilege of sating his hunger again, he thought three weeks would be nothing. 

But as it stood right now, he was already close to breaking. It was torture. It was beyond humiliating. He couldn’t even recall the amount of times he’d been belittled for drooling when the smell got too close to him or crying when his master cruelly decided to extend the length of time in which he would go unfed at the last minute.

And without a doubt, the evenings were the worst. They were when his master would invite him into his bed just so he could wrap him up in his arms and force him to endure the constant smell of fresh blood pumping beneath his skin. It caused his stomach to ache and his mind to obsess until the thought of feeding was the only thing keeping him from passing out from exhaustion. 

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a proper sleep since this nightly routine began.

“Feeling hungry yet?” Master would tease as soon as he felt the vampire attempting to subtly pull away from him. Large fingers would slip into his hair, gripping onto it so hard that Carlos couldn’t help but let out a pained noise, before dragging his head in close again. So close that his nose was nuzzled against the human’s collar, forced to take in the sweet smell with every breath he took in. 

So close, and yet so damn far.

“It hurts,” he practically whined, his voice muffled against his master’s neck. As if to demonstrate just how much, his stomach growled a moment later, loud and desperate. “I’m begging you, sir. Please. I’m in so much pain.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the human yanked his entire body closer to him. Despite being taller, he was no match for his master. Not without food. Not with his body in such a state. All he could do was allow it to happen, even his head feeling too heavy to lift on occasions. 

“Shh, I promise it’s just a few more days,” he gently encouraged, though they both knew it was an empty promise. “At the very least, this will make you appreciate what I give you just that bit more.” 

An anguished, pained sob squeezed its way out in response. His entire body trembled, fingers weakly clinging to his master’s shirt despite how much he wanted to get away from the overwhelming smell. He was forced to use so much willpower just to avoid sinking his teeth into the flesh on his shoulder. His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. If he were anybody else, he’d have fed from him as he slept long ago. 

But he wasn’t. He was Carlos Emrick, a vampire who had never harmed a being superior to him and would never attempt to. So, he sat there and cried until his throat grew hoarse, long after his master had fallen asleep and left him to suffer in silence.

-

@choppedflowermuffinchild @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @paniatheweirdone @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @whumpdreamz

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #15

Masterlist

Previous

Next

Warnings: torture, explicit non-con, light starvation, slight death wish

Once upon a time, a few years ago or more, there was a slave. His name was [REDACTED] and he served his Master faithfully. Because anything less than perfection was punished. But [REDACTED] couldn’t remember if he was being punished or not. It was hard to remember much of anything when his back was on fire.

He cried out as Master brought down the cane again. And Again. And Again.

“Please, I'm sorry, Please-” Master scoffed. His head and back hurt so much and the room was spinning and he just wanted it to stop.

“Get up.” [REDACTED] sobbed in relief. It was over.

But his arms were too weak to push himself up off the stone floor, and his legs refused to move at all. 

“I said. Get. Up.”

“I- I’m trying Master, please, I-”

Master’s boot slammed into his back, grinding the heel into the fresh wounds and welts. He wailed, the pain turning his vision to white.

“Get up,” said Master, but it was impossible. [REDACTED] didn’t move, too confused to react, and Master twisted his heel again. Now he understood. This wasn’t a punishment or even for Master’s amusement. This was a lesson. 

___________________

Master’s hips slammed into him. Breathe he reminded himself, but then Master grabbed his hair, and the air escaped him. Master moaned behind him, and his legs throbbed. His lungs struggled to keep up, but Master enjoyed this position and that was all that mattered. 

Soon enough Master let go in favor of a bruising grip on his hips. [REDACTED]’s arms gave out, and he heard Master groan again. They’d been at it for a while, and blood dripped from between his legs and stained the bed sheets. It hurt so much. He tried to relax, tried to make his thoughts drift somewhere else, but his brain wasn’t working today.

Finally, Master finished, and the warmth of his cum was indistinguishable from his own blood. 

Master shoved him away, and left to clean himself up in the bathroom. [REDACTED] sat on the floor for a moment, catching his breath. He had precious few minutes to change the sheets before Master wanted to sleep, and he planned to use them all. His cock was still hard, unfortunately, and that had its own awfulness. Why couldn’t his body hate it as much as the rest of him? The best he could do was ignore it. 

He changed the sheets, careful to keep his own disgusting mess away from the soft fabric. Thankfully he’d stopped bleeding by the time he got to wiping the floor. Once, he hadn’t managed it, and Master mocked him for trying to clean while still dripping.

Master was nicer, after sex. Or maybe he was too sated and tired to do much more than yell at him. Either way, it was a break. Even if it came with a high price.

___________________

He hated winter. Master’s stone floors were unforgiving. [REDACTED] wasn’t allowed more than what Master gave him, and Master seemed to forget his slave felt cold too. His only allowance for winter was a threadbare pair of socks in addition to his usual shirt and boxers. 

Lighting the fires was the warmest he'd get for months.

His teeth chattered all the time, and occasionally Master gagged him to stop the sound. Of course, he wasn’t allowed to take it out, so sometimes he missed his meal of the day. 

Master was lazy during the cold months, and his punishments were lighter. [REDACTED]’s favorite punishment was more of a reward, so he tried really hard to hate it enough that Master wouldn’t catch on. 

It was a tiny closet Master would lock him in, sometimes for days. But the small room heated quickly from his meager body heat, and it was nearly pleasant. If he curled up really small, he could sit and enjoy the warmth.

Spring would always come eventually, but some years he wondered if he would die before the snow melted. Sometimes he even wished he would.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Running With Strays Chapter Two will be up this Thursday! Here’s a sneak peek:

“Daniel” Sam repeated, actually relieved to finally be putting a name to the man who had plagued his every thought since he’d laid eyes on him. “Do you usually wait outside bars at night to introduce yourself to the wait staff?”

“No” Danny chuckled again, and Sam hated how much he actually liked the sound of it. “This is a first for me. I just,” he took a few steps forward again, close enough that they weren’t more than an arm’s length away. “I had to know you”.

“And now you do”.

“Now I do”.

Tags: @sanguinebats @holdingup-fallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-choose-the-road @alantern-inthenight

Let me know if you’d like to be added!

[nathaliegaouyer]

#nathaliegaouyer #onceuponatime #fromthesky #inthenight #magicgarden #somuchtrouble #cabin #morelegends #inyourarms #digitalart #digitalpainting  #artwork #vegetal #poems #springsoon