whumpzone

[whumpzone]

I don't know anything about Dr Who, but I just read the story and it's very tasty so far! Excited to see where it goes. I love reading fan fics for stuff I don't know. It's fun in a weird way lol

thank you for reading!!! im really glad you didn't mind diving in without knowing the fandom

i hope you have fun getting to know Jamie (and the Doctor) organically!

[whumpzone]

new story :)

pros: new whump writing!

cons: it's for 1960s doctor who (this is also a pro if you're lucky)

slavery / dehumanisation / long-term captivity / feral whumpee (aka he lashes out a lot) / caretaker as the new master / nsfwhump / recovery / basically no knowledge of dr who needed, i promise

if this might float your boat you can find the fic here! <3

[whumpzone]

pet POV (pt 11): Kicking the puppy

[whumpzone]

I like it best when characters heal but not all the way and it's implied they'll never heal all the way

[whumpzone]

Please add me to the taglist for this story, it's absolutely fantastic and I'm really enjoying it :-)

Don't you want a bath?

727 words | Izara and the serpent king (sequel to Fighting spirit)

Content | Slavery, dehumanization, manhandling, defiant whumpee, carewhumper, implied/mentioned: nudity, future noncon, punishment, victim blaming

Notes | Izara's introduction to the serpent king continues! He hates it!

Taglist | @yet-another-heathen @echo-goes-aaa @whumpinator @neverthelass

Izara was dragged on to the next room.

It had large, arched windows, looking out over the palace grounds. It was on some sort of terrace—which made sense, there was a sizable pool in its center, a bath, Izara realized—and if he leapt just right-

»What are you looking at, little thing?«

The serpent king had seen through him, Izara could tell from the amusement in his voice. Like he knew just how helpless Izara was. The worst part was that it was true.

Izara didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say, anyway? He just forced himself to look at the serpent king, who had slid into the water, then dropped his gaze to the edge of the pool. He could vaguely imagine what the serpent king wanted with him here; he was already naked, after all. He tried not to think about it too hard. His whole body already hurt. Maybe the guard, still holding him, would get a turn too.

He tried not to think about it.

The guard marched him over to the edge of the pool, and the serpent king moved over to look up at him. It was the smallest comfort, looking down on him like this, but he knew it wouldn’t last.

»Come join me.« The softness of the serpent king’s voice couldn’t conceal that this was an order.

Izara didn’t want to move. He knew what was going to happen. It would be worse if he disobeyed, too.

There was no way out.

His eyes drifted to the windows again. Freedom was so close, and yet utterly unreachable.

»Come, sweet thing. You can let him go,« he added at the guard, and then added something in their language. Izara could imagine his punishment, should he disobey, being outlined to be carried out by the guard at the first wrong move.

For now, the guard let go of his arm again and positioned themself between him and the windows.

Izara’s hands—his newly freed hands, for whatever reason—curled into fists again. Of course.

The serpent king still looked up at him, quizzically. »Don’t you want a bath?«

Izara could have screamed at the duplicity. Of course he wanted a bath. He was desperate for a bath, even if he doubted he would ever feel actually clean again. What he didn’t want was for another master to toy with him, make it worse, and least of all he wanted for it to be disguised as some sort of mercy.

He could see what would happen if he refused, as clear as day. He would probably be locked up somewhere in a cell, or perhaps made to do the dirtiest work the king could think of, without the slightest opportunity of washing himself, and then he would be told it was him who chose this. He had been offered a bath, after all.

He ground his teeth, swallowing down tears. »I do.«

»Good. I want you to bathe as well.« The serpent king stretched out an arm, as if offering to help him into the pool.

»I don’t want to take a bath with you.« He was furious enough he barely felt fear at the impossible thing he was saying.

»I’m afraid that is not a choice I am offering you,« the serpent king said softly. »I want to get to know your body.«

Of course. Of course that was what he wanted. Izara felt sick.

»I won’t hurt you.«

Izara didn’t believe that for a second. A good bedslave would pretend not to be hurt far beyond the threshold of what counted as pain for real people, and that was probably the serpent king’s reference point, if he wasn’t straight-up lying.

He was not a good slave. He would forever refuse to be.

For as long as he could.

For as long as his waning strength lasted him.

He couldn’t fight the tears forever, and now they were welling up. »Come on, little thing,« the serpent king said, even softer. »It’s alright. Come on in.«

He reached further and took Izara by the hand, only grabbing on tight when Izara tried to pull away. »Come on.«

There was no way out.

He let the serpent king pull him into the water with the same uncanny gentleness he had displayed this whole time, and he hated himself for it.

[whumpzone]

Do you RP? If so, what role do you usually like to RP as? (Whumpee, whumper, caretaker?)

I've never RP'ed! it's not for me I'm afraid

[whumpzone]

I noticed that that Col has a teddy bear, which gave me a little thought. Alongside teddy bears, a type of rabbit plush called Alice Rabbits came out, but they haven’t survived the test of time.

What if I gave Col a rabbit plush to complete the set?

awwwww

please do! I love cute bunny toys with their long floppy ears. their ears are always so damn soft too

[whumpzone]

hii so uhm i think a couple yrs back (when you'd just started linden n colton) you'd like reblogged another author's whump story, it had like an intimate whumper and a red-haired prince who'd been captured by a rival kingdom & they were hurting him in hopes that his twin could also feel the pain bcs they rlly needed his brother n not him. he had a magical sigil sewn into his back connected to a piece of cloth and it hurt him whenever his whumper touched it. could u link it if u can find it cause it was kinda fire,,,

hi im sorry this definitely wasn't me! ive never heard of a story like this

if anyone has please link it here 📣

[whumpzone]

your mom (how’s life)

loool hi anon

life is good! started a new job which makes me a lot happier than my old one. still solely focused on my classic who brainrot - drawing and writing a lot for it

I'm 20k into a whump fic for it which I'll probably link here when it's posted

thinking about linden and col a lot as always. been re-reading my old writing too. I love this blog <3

[whumpzone]

hey i was just wondering how you are doing. i hope you are doing well!!

i still think about linden and col so so much!! do you know laios from the manga / anime dungeon meshi? he reminds me (looks wise) so much of col

thank you anon, this really means so much :")

I do and OMG! he so does!!! anime col <3

[whumpzone]

Every time I get an ad for Monkey Man (looks great btw), I always think "Damn, Linden really gone full John Wick." Hope you're doing well!

hahaha I love that sm. I really wanna watch that film!!

[whumpzone]

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

[whumpzone]

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

-

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 wasn’t 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 hadn’t risen yet–that terrifying tell-tale glow didn’t shine from behind the curtains. Jim wouldn’t be awake for hours, resting upstairs while Kane slunk around in the dark, in his own house.

Kane couldn’t fathom how much trust that must have required. He still couldn’t believe he’d earned that much.

The fact that Jim was still feeding him his own blood was a miracle in itself. He’d 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 Kane’s 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 ‘on’ or ‘off’.

And it was something he hadn’t 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. You’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’re safe here, remember?

Kane took a deep breath in, playing Jim’s soothing affirmations through his head, exhaling slowly. That’s it, there you go, the memory of Jim’s voice encouraged. You’re 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 he’d have to talk to his parents to get the money to buy it… and it was too obvious he wasn’t 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 month’s time would do him well.

Still. He couldn’t 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. “Kane?”

“Good morning!” came the cheery reply. That set Jim’s nerves at ease, at least. Right. Kane was friendly, now.

“Morning. You sleep okay?” Jim asked. As he made his way through the living room toward the kitchen, he noticed a distinctly… delicious smell. That couldn’t be right.

“Better! And you?” 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. “You win some, you lose some. Hey, are you, uh… cooking?”

Kane held out a hand. “I am! Please come sit?”

Now he was smiling, too. “Haha, okay.”

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 off–undercooked, a little torn up–but the fact that they were there at all was astounding.

He sat down. “How did you even do this? You don’t cook.”

“I watched you,” Kane admitted sheepishly. “In the mornings. I really wanted to make you something, and I didn’t 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?”

“Well, let’s see!” Jim cut into one– definitely undercooked. It oozed out around his knife, but Liz’s failed attempts at cooking had given him ample practice in this field. He popped it in his mouth without a care. “It’s great, Kane. Especially for your first time ever cooking anything. Thank you.”

Kane brightened up even further at the praise, sitting in the chair adjacent. “I know it’s 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?”

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to,” Kane insisted. “I really, really do. But I don’t want to impose! I can always ask Laken.”

Jim cut away the less-done bits of the pancake he was working on, scooping up another bite. “Alright, if you’re really sure. Yeah, I can teach you. Doesn’t human food smell, like, really bad to vampires, though? Like it’s rotten or whatever?”

“I’ll manage.” Kane bore no obvious worry of the issue. Clearly, a bad smell was not something that registered to him as a concern any longer. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t until Jim had finished his breakfast and was about to get up that Kane spoke again, the smile fading from his face. “There was something else, actually.”

“Oh?” Jim put his plate and utensils back down.

Kane got down from his seat to kneel on the floor.

“Kane, buddy,” Jim said softly, sliding into that placating tone he always used when trying to calm the vampire down from one of his panics, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. It’s– it’s to show respect. Please.” As Kane looked up at him with those intense red eyes, Jim could see no fear at all.

“Well, okay then, I guess. What’s up?” he asked.

“I want to thank you. For everything,” Kane spoke carefully, as though each word was precious. Rehearsed. “For 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 it’s so hard for you, just so I wouldn’t 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 wasn’t dead, I was– I was there. And you saved me.”

Tears welled up in Kane’s eyes as he stared up reverent, overcome with emotion. “And I was thinking about all the times I’ve apologized to you, I was too afraid to do it right. I was just– I really was sorry, I’ve been sorry for a long, long time, but in those moments, I’ve 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.”

Kane placed a hand over his heart. “And I swear to you, I will make it my life’s mission to give you back that happiness. I am loyal to you, Jim. Forever.”

He put his hand down. “That–that’s all. Thank you for listening.”

Jim sat in silence for a moment, absorbing it all. Wasn’t this why he’d originally taken Kane in? Wasn’t that the excuse he’d used– 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 hadn’t 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.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Kane added quietly. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Right. Yeah,” Jim said, snapping out of it. Just because Kane was ready didn’t mean it had to be now. It could be any time, when he was ready, too. “That’s… wow. Hey, it’s okay,” he tried, far more comfortable comforting Kane than the other way around. He grabbed a tissue, handing it to him. “I mean, not the–not what you did. I mean it’s okay now. Um, thanks, is what I mean, I guess. For really apologizing.”

Kane wiped his eyes. “It’s the absolute least I could do. Everything I have is something you’ve given to me. Nothing hurts anymore.”

“Good.” His sincerity brought a smile to Jim’s face. “You know, maybe cooking isn’t the best idea if you’re afraid of burns? It’s not gonna happen every time, but even I get myself once in a while. Just thought I should warn you.”

“You give me blood,” Kane pointed out. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. “Plus, you’ll be there. Right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.” Jim patted him on the shoulder.

Kane smiled back up at him. “Then I’ll be okay.”

-

taglist in reblogs

[whumpzone]

I know it’s been awhile since Col starting talking and this may have been asked before, but did Col ever tell Linden Chu (the teddy bear’s) 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

[whumpzone]

I’m 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 “The Monster’s Heart”. I just wanna thank the both of because I have been looking for that fic for agesss. 😭

Thank you so much!!! It’s one of the first whump series I read, I’m surprised it got long already!

hey that's so good!! so pleased you found it again!

[whumpzone]

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 :")

[whumpzone]

😭😭😭 thank you so so much!!! I'm so happy you found the story again and that it means so much to you 🥲 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

-

Still clutched tightly in Tomas’s arms, Rowe started to babble through his tears. “Wh-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-”

“I’m sorry,” Tomas replied, not questioning it. In fact, it felt as if he’d wanted to apologise for a long time- properly apologise. To a version of Rowe that had the capacity to understand it. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ve made so many mistakes and it wasn’t right, I never ever want to scare you. I can’t explain it.”

“Thank you. I just- I don’t know why I said that first,” he almost laughed, although it caught around the lump in his throat. “I’m so happy to be back.”

“Really?” Tomas said, completely earnest, and Rowe cried harder, nodding. “I’m so happy, I missed you so much, I can’t believe it’s real, I can’t, you’re back, you, oh my god you’re bleeding everywhere-“

“I missed y-you so much.”

Rowe’s words died in his throat. He was crying too hard.

“Let me look at you,” Tomas coaxed, pushing Rowe off him as gently as he could, but his grip hardened when he saw Rowe’s hand. “Oh my god.”

“It hurts, it hurts s-s-so much, he cut-“ Rowe unwrapped the makeshift bandage with a shaking hand, and whispered, “he cut it off.”

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 he’d always tried to do.

“I’ll run a bath, I’ll get painkillers. It’ll be okay. I can-“

“N-n-n-no hospitals, please.”

Tomas squeezed his uninjured hand. “No hospitals tonight. But this is… okay. For now, let me do my best.”

-

Tomas sat Rowe down in the bath, like he’d done after he first got him. Back then, Rowe’s 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 Rowe’s 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 Rowe’s missing finger. And he kept himself still, when he saw his missing teeth.

He still cried. But he stayed by Rowe’s 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, “Tomas?”

Luca’s voice was heavy with worry.

“He’s back,” Tomas said.

He heard Luca gasp, and a muffled oh my god. “Is he okay?”

“No, but- he’s home. He’s back. In mostly one piece. He rang my doorbell in the middle of the night.”

“Jesus, Tomas. Thank fuck. I really don’t know what to say. Can I come over, or…”

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.

“I think… in a few days, if you wouldn’t mind waiting. It’s not that he doesn’t 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?”

“Of course,” Luca replied, not missing a beat. Even over the phone, Tomas could see Luca’s face. Not a drop of pity across it- just kindness, and a lot of care. “Gives me time to get a suitable gift together. You just let me know, okay my boy?”

He smiled. Luca knew Tomas liked that pet name. “Okay. See you very soon.”

“See you soon. And hey-“ he cut in, just before Tomas could hang up. “I love you.”

Tomas’s 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. “I love you too. Bye, Luca.”

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 Tomas’s presence didn’t scare him anymore. He perched on his bedside, and took his hand.

“You know, don’t you? You know I have to take you to the hospital.”

Rowe’s eyes opened slowly. “Please don’t. Please.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take you to the human one.”

His face lit up beneath the weak, pained expression. “R-Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t you worry about it. I’ll sort it all out, pal.”

“But 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.” He paused. “Swearing feels good.”

Tomas smiled. Rowe let his trust overcome his fear, and smiled back. “I’ll sort it. I promise. I’ll make sure you’re looked after, and I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Okay, Tomas.” 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 wouldn’t 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 Rowe’s room. Tomas’s 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.

. . .

“I just- I wonder what your real name was,” 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.

“What’s in a name?” Rowe murmured flatly. He had long been tortured out of having any attachment to his birth name.

“They’re who you are,” 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 didn’t say them. “Someone looked at you when you were small and precious and named you.”

Rowe turned to him fully. “Isn’t that what you did with me?”

Tomas said nothing. A smile tugged at his lips.

Rowe continued. “I 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.”

“Ahh. I would still name you Rowe today.”

“I like it. That’s what I held onto, with Kasia. I held onto the fact that I was named, I was real. I was something unique.”

“You could be… Rowe Grzegorzewski, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. I don’t know if we’re… well, I suppose there isn’t a name for us, is there? But you’re family.” Tomas’s smile flickered. “If you want to be.”

“I do, I do, I would love that,” Rowe said, leaning into Tomas and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Tomas hugged him back.

“Good, that’s so good. This is your home, pal.”

“It’s… it’s 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.”

He pulled away, and looked up at Tomas fully.

“Kasia, he’s still-“

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it,” Tomas soothed, and Rowe fell silent, biting his lip. “I mean, what would you like to happen to him? In your heart of hearts.”

Rowe’s eyes clouded over as he paused to think. “I don’t want to know. But I don’t want to ever see him again. I want to feel safe.”

Tomas took a deep breath. “Okay.”

-

Tomas waited until three in the morning, when Rowe’s 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.

Kasia’s jacket, complete with keys, was locked in the utility room, out of Rowe’s sight. Tomas still had the hammer that Kasia had used to mutilate Rowe’s legs, too. He hadn’t 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 Tomas’s face, to the hammer, and then he just closed his eyes. Tomas unlocked the cage and entered it. He realised his hands weren’t 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 Tomas’s arms, until the fit of crying was over. Some days he just couldn’t 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 Rowe’s 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 Grzegorzewski’s life would not, and could not, follow the path of a regular human’s. He would never officially exist, not while there was a Pet file still out there with his description on it. Kasia’s Pet organisation vaguely remembered selling him, but he would forever be listed as their unclaimed property. He couldn’t vote, couldn’t work- although he was always able to do informal volunteering until someone thought to ask him for ID- and he knew that his trauma wouldn’t 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 didn’t 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 Tomas’s 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 couldn’t see the Pet hospital, couldn’t see his old master’s 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!!!