#guard whumpee

[mj-iza-writer]

Tw: tongue removal, character suicide, suicidal suggestion, finger breaking.

*CRUNCH*

Whumpee squirmed as another finger was snapped by the tool.

"Please no more", Whumpee pleaded. Their hands having gone numb from the pain now.

"Answer my questions about your master, and this will stop", Whumper stood in front of them, "I'll return you to your normal life, and you'll get to heal and forget this ever happened."

"My master will find....me.... and kill me as a traitor", Whumpee struggled to breath.

"You were the one holding a gun to your head when my team found you", Whumper knelt in front of Whumpee, "in retrospect, you should be dead already."

"It would have been an honorable death. It's... what my master... requires", Whumpee gritted their teeth, "please just kill me."

"I can't do that, I need live bait. You need to be alive for that to work", Whumper grinned, "break another finger", they spoke to the person behind Whumpee.

"We've ran out of fingers", the person sounded apologetic.

"My, you must be in a lot of pain", Whumper winked at Whumpee.

A loud explosion took everyone by surprise.

Debris covered everyone as they took cover.

Whumpee peered through the dust and smoke.

"Master... I", Whumpee coughed.

"Save it, I'm here to kill you before you can say anything else", their Master walked toward them, knife in hand.

"I haven't said anything", Whumpee pleaded, "please believe me, I haven't said anything."

"You should already be dead. You chickened out and didn't follow my one request", their master frowned and lifted the knife toward them, "I have to make an example of you... stick out your tongue."

Tears ran down Whumpee's face as they followed their orders.

In one swift movement the tip of their tongue was severed away.

Whumpee screamed in pain.

"You're a cruel person. You request loyalty from your people to the point they must kill themself to get out of capture", Whumper came out of their cover from the explosion, "what are you, a samurai?"

"You stay out of this", Whumpee's master frowned at Whumper.

"They haven't said anything, they've quite literally been through shit and back to keep your secrets", Whumper looked at Whumpee, "at this point just take them and let them heal. No harm done, I kind of feel bad for them honestly. Being stuck with you and all."

Whumpee's master gave a harsh push to the chair Whumpee was tied to.

Whumpee screamed as the chair fell back. Their head slammed on the floor.

Succumbing to the pain, they watched as a battle ensued. The last thing they realized before their eyes closed.... 'who's hands are touching me?'

Whumpee squinted their eyes open.

"I-I'm not dead?", Whumpee whispered.

They tried to sit up, but found they were tied to a bed.

"What's happening?", Whumpee struggled.

"Oh good, you're awake", Whumpee jumped as someone came into the doorway.

Whumper stood near the entrance of the room. Their arm was in a sling. They definitely had been scuffed up by Whumpee's master.

"I'm not dead?", Whumpee frowned.

"Nope, not yet at least", Whumper came closer and sat down, "your master is insane."

"I know", Whumpee sighed, "are these bindings necessary."

"You tell me", Whumper frowned, "I wasn't sure what mood you'd wake up with, and I've had enough fighting people today. So I was saving my team the headache. How exactly did you get mixed up with them?"

"It was accidentally. They caught me at a bad time, and I.... I got mixed up with them", Whumpee felt a tear fall, "I didn't want this for my life. I was supposed to make something of my life. The way I promised my parents I would. I screwed up."

"It happens, sometimes our parents make us promise things that we can't keep. Things that don't exactly fit in where our lives do lead", Whumper looked at their arm in the sling, "if you promise not to cause me any issues, I'll call someone to unlock you. My arm is not in the best of shape right now to do it myself."

"I won't fight you, I don't have much to live for anyway. It's just a waiting game to see when you or my master will kill me", Whumpee sighed, "I won't do anything."

"Alrighty then", Whumper pulled out their phone, "no need to worry about your master. They ran off to hide and lick their wounds. My team is waiting for them to come out. They'll pay for what they did today."

Whumpee frowned.

"Plus I have a score to settle with them", Whumper smiled.

Someone came in and stood next to Whumper.

"Could you unlock them please? I do believe they won't fight us now", Whumper handed over a set of keys, "I don't honestly think they're in the best of shape to fight anyway, but I don't like taking chances."

Whumpee frowned as they sat up. They remembered their tongue and tried to look at it.

"Yeah, they took quite a bit off, but you should be okay", Whumper stood.

'Wait, what are you going to do with me?", Whumpee looked up at Whumper.

"Well that depends. What do you want me to do?", Whumper reached to adjust the blanket that covered Whumpee.

"May I pledge my loyalty to you?", Whumpee bowed their head to show reverence.

"I don't do that", Whumper frowned, "you are welcome to stay here for a while if you like. I'm sure that's your plan to stay alive. You want my protection, right?"

"You're not wrong, but you're not right either", Whumpee sighed.

"Explain", Whumper frowned.

"Master kept me on a tight leash, I guess through that I've learned to be loyal to a master", Whumpee looked down again, "yes your protection would be great, but all I know is to be loyal to a master. Mine wants me dead, and I'm sure I can be beneficial to you as well."

Whumper thought for a few moments.

"If I'm loyal to you, my original master has lost their loyal pet. I can answer your questions without being tied down by them", Whumpee smiled, "I can be your loyal pet. It seems that's what I'm good for."

"You drive a hard bargain, but how do you prove your loyalty to a new master, when you're about to out your old one?"

"I am no longer theirs", Whumpee lifted their hands, "look what I went through to protect them."

Whumper grinned, "you have a point."

Whumper turned to leave.

"Wait you're not answering me", Whumpee looked at them with a concerned expression.

"I'm not one to step into something quickly, I need to consider my options", Whumper walked toward the door, "maybe you should consider the same. You are so ready to throw yourself into another person's hand, you aren't even considering if I can be trusted with your life. Remember who broke those fingers."

A few days passed and Whumpee had regained enough strength to follow Whumper closely.

"Are you going to be like a little shadow all of the time?", Whumper complained, "is this what your previous master had you do?"

"Actually, yes Master, I was the decoy. If someone came after them, I'd take the hit while they got away", Whumpee looked around, "I wasn't kidding when I said I was their loyal pet, I was a guard dog for them."

"Don't call me your master, I haven't agreed to anything yet", Whumper frowned.

"You haven't exactly said no either", Whumpee mocked.

Whumper rolled their eyes.

Someone came into the doorway and stared at Whumper then at Whumpee.

"Yes, you must be new here. How can I help?", Whumper stood in greeting.

Whumpee ran toward the person.

The person revealed a hidden dagger. They raised it at Whumpee and prepared to defend themself.

Whumpee attacked first, they winced as they punched. Their fingers had been bandaged, but hadn't healed from being broken yet.

The person fell to the ground.

"Now who's more trusting?", Whumpee checked that the person was unconscious. They moved the person's head around to show a mark hidden behind the ear. Then, they revealed they had the same one.

"It's my old Master's mark, everyone who worked for them received this as their first display of loyalty", Whumpee turned to Whumper who had backed against the wall in shock, "I wonder if they were coming for me or for you."

"I guess we will find out", Whumper composed themself and walked toward them, "how did you know."

"Their body language. This isn't the first time I had to locate the hidden knife quickly", Whumpee frowned, "is this a bad time to mention I've been stabbed?"

"What?", Whumper watched as Whumpee tumbled over.

"I need some help in here. Why is no one helping?", Whumper called out into the hallway.

Several people came running.

Whumpee groaned as they woke up.

"Ow", they hissed and reached down to the stab wound.

"Don't touch it", someone gently slapped their hand away, "doc and nurse are already ticked to see you back. Let's not make them even angrier by touching their hard work."

"Force of habit", Whumpee sighed.

"Hmph", Whumper frowned, "spoken like someone who gets stabbed often."

"Where do you think the scars came from", Whumpee groaned as they sat up, "so who was the target? Did they wake up?"

"They woke up all right. While we were e busy with you, they slit their throat", Whumper leaned up closer to the bed, "fairly certain you were the target, and if they had time, I was next."

"Sounds about right", Whumpee winced.

"I guess I would be stupid to deny your request. You did just take a knife after all", Whumper sighed, "if you want to, you can become part of my team and pledge loyalty to me."

"I would like that a lot actually", Whumpee smiled, "it would be an honor to serve you."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

[syncopein3d]

I don't know if this 100% falls under whump, or if it's just asexual somnophilia, but I love various types of guards being nonlethally taken down by sneaky figures in black. I'm going to describe two scenarios, one male and one female, and the male one is first because I know some of you are uncomfortable with female whumpees.

A dude's just strolling through the museum, thinking about his midnight lunch break, when there's a sudden sting in the side of his neck and he grabs at it only to come away with a red-fletched metal dart in his hand.*

He makes some kind of confused remark ("The Hell - ?") and grabs for his radio, but it slips out of fingers that suddenly feel fat and uncooperative. An arm slides around his waist as his knees give, and then the blast of euphoria hits his brain and everything feels great. He gapes at a blurry figure above him, heavy-eyed, as he starts to float.

"Everything is all right," a gentle voice tells him. "You can go to sleep."

He doesn't remember why anything would be wrong with that. He doesn't even remember to fight it. He slides off into a warm, happy dream as his entire body goes limp.

Another guard is patrolling some warehouse full of crates whose contents she knows nothing about when something clatters off to her left. She spins toward it, drawing her weapon, only to realize there's a canister spewing white smoke rolling toward her feet. She holds her breath as she turns to try and get out of range, then twitches and gasps at another noise from directly in front of her. It's another canister, and she's just taken a deep breath of something that burns slightly and smells like chemical roses.

She janks right and runs between the tall shelves, but her entire body feels heavy and odd. She realizes she forgot to try and hold her breath again. She can see the roses now, hovering all around like a magic thicket. Something hits her right side, and she realizes it's the shelf. Where'd the weapon go? She must have lost it in the thicket. The smell of roses is so strong and she feels so tired, suddenly. Something bumps into her knee. It's the floor. She fumbles at the shelving, but it's like she's being pulled toward the center of the earth, like gravity is so much stronger than before.

She slides over sideways. A hand catches her so she doesn't bang her head, lowering her to the floor. There's something dark above her, but she can't see it clearly.

"Thanks," she mumbles.

"You're welcome, dear. Shh, now." A hand strokes her hair. It feels lovely, lights up her whole head and spine like a rainbow with soft, sleepy tingling. She stretches her legs and shivers involuntarily, overpowered by the feeling, and as it fades, she fades with it. She's never slept as well as she will on that concrete floor tonight.

*There are no human trank darts irl. There's no consistent way to administer a correct dosage, and basically no substances knock a person all the way out for long without paralyzing breathing. With animals this is less of a concern because they don't have to be unconscious, just too groggy to resist being tagged, medicated, loaded into a truck, etc. And real trank darts are a very specific design that looks like an awkwardly long syringe to accommodate the rocker membrane that does the injection on contact. But I am willing to suspend disbelief on the fake metal movie dart with the little red feathers, because I like it. I'm willing to just make up fantasy meds.

[redd956]

Whump Potential 2

Armor (I'm back into making knight ocs)

Like armor is protective but also potentially clunky, and can frequently fail at its one job

Like armor can overheat, especially in inproper environments, a fighting whumpee growing sluggish from heat exhaustion

Bad armor is clunky and whumpee couldn't move properly in it

What happens when armor fails

Or caretaker needs to desperately reach a wound of whumpee's and has to go through all that armor

Enchanted or durable armor making whumpee feel so powerful, and even more powerless without it

Whumpee's identity disguised by a helmet or mask, they beg not to reveal it even while injured, but why

Whumper or/and caretaker being just other Armored personnel, or the higher ups (royals, officers, nobles, world leaders)

Whumpee refusing to remove their helmet or armor for an injury

Tired whumpee feeling the weight of their armor, slowly collapsing to the ground

Armor y'know

[thewhumpening-thesequel]

Whumpee silently patrols Whumper's property, a muzzle tight on their face. It itches underneath the straps but Whumpee isn't allowed to touch it. They've been stripped of their humanity, as if never human in the first place. Whumpee trotted like a well-trained dog, alert for intruders.

A thick shock collar encircles their neck, pinching the skin around the clip. Squeezing their throat like a consistent reminder of their entrapment. It took years for Whumpee to become like this, an aggressive guard dog that could be left unsupervised for weeks without any attempt to run.

Whumper would always tell they how well they did, even letting them inside for a couple of hours if they caught a trespasser. Early on, Whumpee wasn't appreciative of that. It took them being left tied to a stake in an uncovered part of the property for a whole year for them to learn that lesson.

They were not a pet, they were not an art piece, they were not meant to be loved or given luxury. Yet, Whumper would give them scratches on the top of their head, stroke their cheeks and praise them. They gave them sweets, once in a while, treated them like a thing to be cared for and not a tool.

Whumpee's feet are rough and cut up, freckles fleck their skin, and their hair bleached by the sun. Dirt clings to their skin, gravel dust colouring the ends of their limbs. Scars litter their skin like little reminders of their failures and slights.

They curl up under the house's porch, some nights. Right at the edge, so they can watch from someplace covered. Whumpee looks up at the stars. Those little lights, twinkling up in the sky, oh so free, call to them. And, yet, Whumpee knows they'll never reach the sky. They'll go with the ashy dust, settling into a random corner, trapped.

One day, there's a trespasser. However, this one seems... familiar. It bugs Whumpee but they push past it. It's not their job to think about things like that, it's their job to protect their master and their property. Whumpee growls, ignoring the person's worried and confused facial expression.

Caretaker didn't recognize Whumpee when they first saw them. It's like an animal had taken over Whumpee's body. The sounds they were making nothing short of animalistic. Caretaker stumbled back when the other lunged. Their eyes glance to the deck, where Whumper stands with a smug grin.

[violent-ultraviolet]

Okay guard dog whumpees or attack dog whumpees who are human but the little things about the way they interact with their environment gives them away.

They sit unnaturally on chairs, limbs tangled

They stalk rather than simply follow or walk

They tend to have little ticks like snapping at the air quietly when they're frustrated. Whumper knows it's harmless.

Whumpees who have that distinct human "etiquette" trained out of them :)

[shywhumpauthor]

Nothing better than a Whumper who wears thick, heavy rings backhanding a Whumpee across the face, the rubies that decorate their fingers splitting a gash across Whumpee’s cheek

And the little gasp that follows the impact

[whump-thoughts]

I am once again thinking about living weapon/guard dog whumpee's....

A living weapon whumpee who is just so extremely conditioned that they will not even sleep or eat if not given permission to do so by their master

A guard dog whumpee that is meant to be at their masters side at all times and also be alert to anyone that could be a threat to them but due to having spent so much time just trapped in a tiny and sound-proofed room being tortured for god knows how long, big crowds or even just like, multiple stimuli will cause them to have sensory overload

Living weapon whumpee that is legitimately terrifying, like they have and will kill at the command of their master and will obey the whims of them without any objections as well.

Multiple living weapon whumpee's! They are all deeply conditioned but also feel a very strong kinship towards each other, even if they cannot show it due to the conditioning

And how about their caretaker's?

A caretaker that is smaller and weaker than whumpee, being unable to carry or restraint them when necessary, yet still is determined to help them

A caretaker that is younger than whumpee and is both scared of and hesitant to help them!, whumpee being completely subservient to them does not calm their fear in the slightest

A caretaker that has given up on deconditioning whumpee, simple trying keeping them in a soothed passive state, where they don't harm others or themselves, but are not healed just using their own conditioning in a different way.

Idk man, sorry if something is written weirdly, it's 3 am and English is not my first language, hope ya thought these ideas were interesting at least.

[whump-place]

Living Weapon Whumpee that doesn't know what to do when Caretaker rescues them.

They only know fighting, and violence, and even sometimes order people around when their handler allows them, what are they supposed to do if Caretaker doesn't need them?

Caretaker is a good person, and they have a lot of security like guards 24/7 and cameras monitoring their house, why would they need Whumpee?

They say they want to help, to make Whumpee get better; but how is Whumpee supposed to be better when they can be useful?

Caretaker doesn't need them. They are safe, and that's a good thing. Then why do they feel so impotent?

If only Caretaker needed them. Or if they lacked guards, then at least Whumpee could be of some use. But no.

They are useless, and when Caretaker sees that, they are going to get rid of Whumpee.

[the-baby-storyteller]

It’s always interesting when the whumpees have a high pain tolerance. Specifically when they still feel pain the exact same but can go much longer without passing out, for example, or even crying out in pain. If they have a personality which tells them to just grin and bear it, it provides a lot of opportunities for interesting storylines and characters. Especially if the caretaker has to watch them be hurt yet accepting of their pain, only wincing at maximum, and they are appalled as to how Whumpee could take that and it’s not normal to take that much pain and someone help Whumpee before they allow themself to be drastically hurt with nothing more than a pained hiss and an “I’ve had worse.”

[inkwell-and-dagger]

Caretaker comes from a noble bloodline, as does Whumper, who all specialise in hunting mythical creatures. This trait and activity is passed on for generations, but Caretaker has no interest in it and deems it as cruel.

Until Whumper hosted a "celebration" of this activity, where all who are invited are given the choice to bring their domesticated and captured creatures to show off, Caretaker had no clue what the mythical creatures looked like, nor how diverse the species' were.

Caretaker soon finds out. All types of mythical or otherwise unique animals, ranging from kneeling elves to caged fairies to declawed werewolves to chained dragons, among many more. Though, one stands out to them; Whumpee, frail and small amongst the crowd and activity yet tense and alert, sitting dutifully beside Whumper's seat.

[pierceofheart]

What about caretakers who were former guard dog whumpees?

Or whumpers who were former guard dog whumpees??

What about them. Because that's in a way interesting though to me personally.

Just looking at the characters, the character (caretaker) that rose to be either better than they were before whether healed or unhealed with trauma and wished to help those who were in the same situation they were. Or to be worse (whumper) than they were before due to it and wanting to install the same fear and trauma to others in the way they had been done dirty.

[whumpeteerscrankli]

Scientist Whumper has been working on his greatest achievement, a superhuman, for years. Initially, he had no reason for creating and enhancing Whumpee, aside from the usual “Research purposes” that motivated most of his other experiments.

Imagine how ecstatic he is to hear that a high-ranking government official is in need of protection. Imagine how pleased he is to be granted the opportunity to finally give Whumpee a purpose.

[the-caretakest-of-the-caretakers]

TOH Hunter headcanons (Golden Guard) (hurt/comfort and whump)

I made a list of my headcanons for Hunter in his Golden Guard era! I'm rather nervous about posting this-

I must warn, this account is focused on whump. Whump is a subgenre closely similar to hurt/comfort in which an author puts a fictional character through physical or psychological pain. Please, do not read if that could make you uncomfortable.

This list will contain mentions of:

Panic and anxiety attacks

Disordered eating

Physical injuries

Mild physical illness

Don't read under the cut if those matters are triggering to you.

- Hunter has nightmares about events he hasn't experienced per se, but that were experienced by previous grimwalkers in his position. Most of his nightmares involve Belos killing him, which amplifies his need to please the emperor in fear that his nightmares will become real.

- Hunter has some disordered thoughts when it comes to eating, since he's been taught that he needs to earn such a "luxury". He may have nutritional deficiencies due to this, such as anemia.

- On the same vein, it's likely that Hunter gets weird cravings often, both from anemia and from undereating. Occasionally he might even have binging episodes where he sneaks late at night into the kitchen and starts eating without others knowing, not even cooking the raw food.

- Flapjack acts like an emotional support animal to him. He follows Hunter everywhere and rests on his shoulder whenever he's tired, or if he needs comfort. Flapjack has also supported Hunter through panic and anxiety attacks, nuzzling into his chest.

- Wearing his Golden Guard armor aids him a lot when trying to show a calm facade, as he can hide his face, as well as limit the tremors when his body gets shaky. It gives him a sense of power and belonging as well. Therefore, he feels especially vulnerable when he's not in his armor.

- He suffers from Complex-PTSD. Sometimes, he gets emotional flashbacks that trigger anxiety and panic attacks. Hunter doesn't know what a panic attack is, but he's really ashamed of suffering from them. He just assumes it's a normal thing he has to learn to stop on command.

- Hunter is actually very emotionally sensitive. Since he was never allowed to show it, though, his body got subconsciously used to expressing his emotional stress through physical symptoms. Therefore, it's not unusual for him to feel "off" (with intense migraines, fatigue, stomachaches...) after an emotionally charged day.

- He snaps at people when they show concern for him, since he thinks he's being mocked or seen as incompetent. Other coven members never really showed concern, after all. The only person who has ever shown any sort of remote care for him before has been the emperor, and that kind of care was always conditional. Hunter feels like he has to prove his strength to everyone who tries to treat him like "someone" instead of "something".

- The Emperor's Coven had little-to-no actual medical assistance. The usual procedure for wounds was to bandage them without cleaning them beforehand. Hunter never questioned it. Most of his scars are from injuries that were never treated properly.

[redd956]

(@urlocalwhumper)

hey dawg thanks for feeding us living weapon whumpee enjoyers

i know that generally the vibe for living weapon whumpees is like the stoic "unfeeling" supersoldier type, but how are we feelin about living weapon whumpees that are like. off the shits feral.

more of an attack dog than a super soldier, weapons of mass destruction built into them cybernetically, because their masters aren't looking for efficiency, they're looking to send a message. for everyone around to know that if you don't bow to their rule, they'll send their monster to destroy you and everything you hold dear.

(and ofc the "monster" themself is kept in a constant state of suffering so they're always agitated and the pain clouds their mind too much to question what they're doing and why)

I love the way you think!

I never really thought of that character trope as a living weapon, but you aren't lying, it would count. (My brother and I's ocs would count then Ig) Also ties into monster whumpees :D

Here's some ideas I bounced off of this

Guard Dog Whumpee

CW: Pet Whump Sorta, Classic, the whump community should bring these up more

Whumper having more than one, forcing them to compete with one another. The most brutal earns their medical treatment.

Dangerous whumpees who have to be muzzled and mitted because whumper doesn't have them under control fully. Gentle carewhumpers being able to coerce whumpee into muzzles.

Non-guard dog whumpees equally trapped under whumper's boot being terrified of the guard dog. Sharing space with one is like sleeping on the shore of alligator infested rivers.

Scarred whumpees with dangerous animalistic features bared, backed into a corner with a tail in between their legs. Caretaker is trying their best to appear nonthreatening.

A guard dog whumpee failing its job. It showed no fear to its enemies, but the same cannot be said as they returned home.

Monster Living Weapon Whumpee

Say that three times fast

While rampaging after whumper's enemies whumpee broke the device keeping them confined to whumper. Quickly a symbol of destruction becomes a confused, hurt, and whimpering creature.

Whumpee always thought they were uniquely a monster. Whumper told them so everyday, rewarding them for their monstrousness, telling them they're alone as a creature of evil. Whumpee always thought this until they met caretaker.

Monster whumpees that despite being living weapons show rage in their failures, and pride in their kills. They don't see that whumper's treatment of them is subpar, because they're "partners in crime" of course. Caretaker would never treat whumpee that way if they were their weapon.

Killing Machine

They know what they're capable of, and they don't want to be that

Maybe they wanna do things their way, maybe they're ashamed of being a killing machine. Whumper could care less.

Killing machine in disguise has been living the everyday life, perhaps even an extravagant one. Whumper found them out, and no one has seen whumpee since, until the destruction started.

Killer Machine Villain -> Supervillain meets Villain with the promise to make them more powerful -> Extra Murderous Killer Machine Villain (Unstable)

Robotic whumpee that is just doing what they're told. Whumper was great, whumper was life. Robotic whumpee who sees whumper returning home with the newest model. Whumper who won't stop boasting about how much more efficient and deadly the new one is.

[pyrepostings]

The metal of the bars bit into whumpee's hip and shoulder as he pressed against it. The stone floor was cold and unyielding, but here he could curl up for as long as he needed to against caretaker.

"What happened, are you ok?" Caretaker had asked, when whumpee entered the jail block.

"No," He wanted to say. "Nothing has been ok for a very long time."

"I'm not injured," He said instead. "I just need to sit with you for a bit."

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #9

Masterpost

Previous

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Warnings: mild disordered eating

Only a few hours into the night, Kit woke up hungry. 

He had noticed that humans ate less than fae, but he’d gotten used to nothing at all. He thought he could manage on a light diet, but Kit had not seen luck for over a year.

He got out of bed, picking up his discarded clothes. 

Mistress had said he could eat when he needed to, and Kit’s stomach felt empty and demanding. 

He didn’t want to wake anyone. Kit was lower than a servant; he had no right to ask anything of the staff. And they might talk.

Kit stepped out into the hall.

Sir Maxus and a lady knight stood outside Iris’s door, dressed in leather armor.

“Where’re you going?” asked Maxus.

Kit hesitated. “The kitchen,” he admitted.

“I’ll walk you over.”

The silence was uneasy and awkward. 

Kit at least knew that Brennan: 

1. Didn’t trust or like him

And

2. Was very loyal to Iris

He didn’t know anything about Maxus, who was only behind Brennan in how often he was assigned to the queen.

“So…” said Maxus, “do fae have knights too?”

“I suppose. It’s not exactly the same duties, but the Prince has knights.”

“Prince? No king or queen?”

Kit shrugged. “Not for a long time.”

“Oh.” 

The torches on the wall sconces danced, casting warm light out into the hall. The castle was quiet and still, and Kit looked out the windows to see the stars.

The kitchen was just as silent, and Maxus leaned against a counter, watching.

Kit rifled through the storage. He found a cut of meat, wrapped up and fresh, and it made his mouth water. It was just one of many similar cuts, and they wouldn’t miss it, right?

There were berries in a jar, and the best find was a covered pitcher of heavy cream chilled in the dairy.

Kit poured some cream into a ceramic cup before putting the pitcher back. 

He didn’t bother with cooking, or finding cutlery, instead tearing off strips of meat and eating it raw.

He savored each bite. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was eating after a hunt, in peace. At home.

But Maxus’s presence ruined the illusion. 

Kit shook out the berries into the palm of his hand, and he ate the whole pint.

He slowly sipped at the cream, until it was gone.

Kit wiped the juices of the meat off the marble counter, and washed the cup and jar as best as he could.

Maxus walked him back to the royal wing without comment.

___________________

Iris didn’t say anything in the morning. He half expected Sir Brennan to confront him, but it seemed Maxus didn’t report his midnight meal.

Kit decided not to mention it to his Mistress. She had given him permission to eat, after all. Plus, Iris was so busy with other things and thoughts; she didn’t need more to worry about. 

Especially something unusual that could cause gossip.

___________________

The next night, he woke up hungry again.

Maybe it was a good sign that his appetite was returning in full swing. He didn’t even get dizzy in the kitchen the night before.

Maxus and the lady knight were stationed in the hall again.

Sir Maxus walked Kit to the kitchen.

“Aren’t you eating enough during the day?” he asked as Kit tucked into a loaf of bread, cheese, and more delicious cream.

Kit put down the cup. 

“I- I mean, I’m not judging or anything, I’m just wondering. You look really hungry.”

Kit looked away, fidgeting.

“Is the appetite a fae thing?” Maxus asked gently. “You guys eat more than we do?”

Kit nodded, his ears turning pink. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He was a foreigner, and even though mortals were just as strange to him as he was to them, it was unwise to draw attention.

He was at their mercy, after all. He was a slave.

“Maybe you should talk to Christine? To get bigger portions or something?”

Kit shook his head. He knew Iris’s aunt already judged him for declining wine, and someone had put salt in his food. Either on purpose, or an accident, it didn’t matter. Mortals just did food differently, and he was the outlier. 

He imagined the looks he’d get if his plate had twice the amount of the people sitting next to him.

“It would embarrass my Mistress,” he whispered, unwilling to break the serene quiet of the kitchen.

“If you say so,” said Maxus, unconvinced. “Still, just… write Chef a note or something, so she doesn’t wonder about the missing stuff.”

Kit nodded. “Yes, sir.” He could do that.

They walked back after Kit cleaned up, in silence.

___________________

“You’re looking better,” commented Iris the next morning.

“Hm?”

She gestured to his face as she ate her toast.

“You have some color in your cheeks. That’s good, right?”

“Oh. Yes.”

He did feel better. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but he didn’t feel so bad when he got up in the morning. Magic was still out of reach, but it would surely come soon.

Kit picked at the crumbs on his plate. He eyed the small pitcher of cream that came with the coffee pot on the breakfast cart.

Mistress left to do her makeup, and Kit waited until she was out of the room to drink it down.

He snuck a spoonful of sugar, the only thing better than cream, and a thought hit him.

He was keeping secrets, wasn’t he?

Even if it was just the hunger in his belly, it was something he was keeping from Iris.

The deal demanded loyalty. Painfully vague.

What was loyalty to the deal? Could he even stay quiet about this? Would the deal’s magic force him to reveal it?

He wished he was in the position to negotiate when he accepted the terms.

“Ready to go?” asked Mistress.

Kit nodded. 

There wasn’t a painful jolt of magic, or a strong compulsion to blurt out his secret, but a warning pricked at the back of his mind.

The deal’s magic had decided it wasn’t betrayal. Probably because he had permission to eat, and Iris hadn’t told him to tell her when he ate.

Still. He was on thin ice.

Kit bit his lip as they passed the royal portraits on the wall.

Maybe he’d tell her. Eventually.

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