Does sired Nevan, even though he’s angry, slow down when it comes to Darius’ new thrall. He’s going to destroy it, it’s too far gone to leave, but he doesn’t do so violently.
The thing is scared, and he does feel remnants of empathy as he distracts it from their master before softly guiding them down and away
Terrified was how he looked in his stupid little dress. Nevan didn’t get a dress anymore - simply scraps of ugly things his master supplied him with and nothing else. His was Nevan’s former one, and as much as he hated to admit it looked better on the new thrall. Darius said so, too many times to count.
But they were scared, so frightened by him, and Nevan didn’t give a fuck. He stepped closer, closing in on whatever his idiot name was, blood curling his ripped up remains of clothes. Adrastus fought more than he’d prepared for, clawing at his shirt and skin, but it was alright in the end. Nevan got the job done.
“Master, p- please-,” he whimpered, holding a black blooded, rotting corpse close. He was more lucid than Nevan had seen him for some time, yet still under a terrible spell. “Master, help, master, I need y- you-,”
Nevan knelt to his level, and the thrall flinched away. He refused to use the vampire body as a shield, rather using himself to save it. It was cute in a way. On the other hand, it should’ve been Nevan, whether on the edge of death or still under a trance, it should’ve been Nevan.
The anger welled in his chest, pulsing in the place of a heart. He didn’t let it show in his face - he’d gotten good at that. Darius never once suspected how jealous he’d gotten, or how many times he’d fantasized the whole group’s deaths.
What a stupid man.
So very slowly, the thrall weeping wildly, Nevan tucked his hair behind his ear. The thrall curled away, still blubbering. “Shhhh…” Nevan soothed shakily, and the thrall’s eyes went distant in an instant.
“N- nooo, master, m- m- masterrr…,” he whined, quivering cold.
Nevan cupped his cheeks, the thing like a ball of mush in his blood stained hands, and they smiled to each other - Nevan first and the thrall dully following. His lashes fluttered dumbly, groaning softly as he savored Nevan’s touch.
Nevan would kill him.
With so many possibilities of torture running about his mind, he couldn’t help but place a peck to the human’s forehead, one he cherished with a mewl. He could tear his face right off then and there. He could twist his throat off. He could rip his heart out and eat it before him. So many ways to get it out of the way, to do the thing Nevan wished someone had done for him. So many ways to pay back the stealing of his spot.
“N- Nevannn…,” the thrall cheered, sleepy and out of it. The way Malak had. His fingers, gloved yet wet with insides, found their way over Nevan’s own.
Nevan bit his lip, hard and snarling. The pet only seeked his warmth further, gracefully falling to his lap, corpse in hand.
When Nevan went to separate it from their master, he cried pathetically. “N- no, ngh!” Tears clouding his face, power lifting if only in the slightest.
And Nevan stopped.
Petting the thrall, speaking him through it with a gentle, mind melting tone, Nevan led him along with little it’s ok’s and it’s alright’s. Maybe he even ran his fingers through Darius’ remains of ginger strands once or twice.
He was gone before either of them knew it. He never noticed - at least Nevan hoped so - as his breathing ticked to a stop. Until the rise and fall of his belly ceased, Nevan only thought of him to be asleep.
It wasn’t difficult, it was what Nevan wanted to do for a long time. So why was he crying? He didn’t feel bad, but tears blurred his vision and collected at his chin.
He was easy to bury. Luckily the spot where Nevan had been was still open, so he reused it. He swapped the thrall’s clothes too, to be that of which he probably would have been more himself in. Maybe he would have liked them.
Nevan only prayed a little bit, said a goodbye with that angering ache in his stomach. Of course he couldn’t remember if he was ever religious, but he certainly wasn’t now. If there was a God, one that allowed all this to happen in the first place, Nevan certainly wouldn’t be speaking to such a monster. It was only an attempt to hope for the thrall’s best wherever he went after.
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-Pet whump, Stockholm syndrome, dehumanization, infantilization, biting, blood drinking, vampire whumpers, human whumpees, multiple whumpers and whumpees, hypnosis/brainwashing/conditioning, captivity
Art-
Sketches of the Characters Adrastus art Tied up Darius doodle Malak doodle Pre-story Nevan and Gen doodle
Dari and Ad maid dress doodle Malak expressions Colored Nevan & Malak
Character voice claims!
Character Picrews
List is organized in chronological order, numbers indicate writing order!
Vampire keeps their thrall hypnotized so they do all the chores without making a fuss and so they don't accidentally hurt themselves bruising or spilling any of their precious blood.
Whumpee breaks out of it randomly by something silly like a sneeze and comes back to hella confusing circumstances.
WOHEO Masterlist
Love this sm. Kinda mad cause I wrote all of it and then realized I was originally gonna go in a very different direction😭
cw: hypnosis, dehumanization, vampire whumper, human whumpee
———————————————————————
Nevan smiled contentedly to himself as a pile of dust flew into the pan. The broom, brittle and old scratched against the hardwood flooring of the mansion. Satisfied, he carefully poured the dust pan’s contents into a nearby trash can.
He had almost done all of the cleaning for the abode, the only room left being one of the many dedicated for storage. Nevan always felt exceedingly proud of himself for fulfilling his sanitation duties so well, even if there wasn’t much to clean when he repeated the same tasks every single day.
Darius liked his home spotless, and Nevan was more than happy to oblige to the wills of his master. Cleaning was the one thing he was notably good at, subsequently making it his sole job in Darius’ home. Besides being a food source, of course.
Transferring to the next room to be cleaned, Nevan was giddy with the thought of receiving his promised reward.
Cleaning was his purpose, his sole job in life, so there was really no need for a reward. Yet, Darius was so kind hearted and generous, that he always promised his thrall a reward for his work. Whether it be presenting him with another place to cleanse or an extra feeding for that week, Nevan was over the moon simply with knowing he had pleased the vampire.
Nevan studied the mess he was presented with. The storage rooms were always a bit arduous to take care of, mainly due to the overwhelming clutter that had formed over centuries.
He began with a smaller brush, sweeping the tops of boxes and junk. Before he knew it, whatever dirt inhabited the room had unsurprisingly mixed with the air, floating into and itching at his nostrils.
He leaned his head back, readying himself for a sneeze.
Seering pain sliced through his brain as his body forcibly doubled over, almost as if splitting his head in half. Nevan clutched his head desperately, stumbling and slipping over his feet. He pulled frantically at his hair, the agony spreading to his scalp as well.
The human dropped onto sore knees, expelling a distraught whine. He panted heavily, attempting to settle himself.
Luckily, after an endless repetition of deep, calming breaths, the pain subsided into a faint throb. Nevan groaned, rubbing at his tear prickled eyes. Out of reach thoughts danced inside his mind, too rapid to be coherent.
Holding his head in one hand, he forced open his soggy eyes. Gazing down at his own lap, confusion began to settle in.
How did-? Why was he…? Cleaning supplies?
Clutching the short broom in his hand, he noticed what was under it. “What?” He groaned, grabbing at the fabric covering his lower body. Whatever it was, it was large, frilly, and itchy, a terrible combination.
Nevan felt around, pressing his palms to the floor and pushing himself onto wobbly legs. He clung to a tall stack of cardboard boxes, his knees buckling. He took in the room, filled to the brim with piled up rubbish.
Particularly, Nevan’s gaze landed on a long, thin mirror several feet away. He shuddered, digesting the image of the figure reflected.
It was him. The reflection held Nevan’s eyes, Nevan’s moles, Nevan’s nose, yet they looked so different. Like a failed clone. His hair was lengthy with a healthy shine, his face and body meticulously clean shaven, and he wore a grand, luxurious dress.
Worrying of all, were the achining wounds in his neck. Red, oozing and sore, Nevan gaped at the sight.
It couldn’t be him. Nevan didn’t do those things. He kept his hair short and easily manageable, he never gave a second thought to body and facial hair, and he sure as hell had never been very comfortable in a dress. He began grabbing at the excessive tool covering his thighs, trying to ease the irritation on his skin.
Once again, the burning sensation returned full force, tearing apart his brain in a wave of remembrance.
Fear settled over him, a whimper catching in his throat. He was in a vampire’s home. Caught in a web of mind-bending magic, and by some miracle had broken through. His breathing quickened, short and frantic.
What would he do? What could he do? If he got caught, there wasn’t a chance he’d ever get the opportunity to escape again. Maybe the monster would be so angry, they’d kill him.
“Nevan? Are you almost finished with your chores?” His heart stopped. Nevan lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, pushing his back against the objects behind him. “Where are you?” They called.
Nevan slid down the boxed, landing on his bottom. Darius was close. Too close. If he tried to leave now, he would surely be caught, but the same was ensured if he didn’t.
Footsteps picked up, the clicking sound of Darius’ heels growing closer. “There you are.” Carefully, Nevan turned his head to face the beast, meeting a wicked grin. “Are you ready for your reward? I’m especially hungry today.” They said, adjusting the collar of their jacket.
Nevan let out a whimper and a snivel, alarms blaring inside his head. The vampire paused, studying him, his smile contorting into a confused frown. “What’s wrong? What did you do? You shouldn’t look like that.”
Darius reached their hand out, taking several steps toward the human. Instinctively, Nevan hysterically crawled in the opposite direction, knocking over a pile of random contents.
Darius met the other man’s stare, his eyes just as wide-eyed as Nevan. Slowly, as if faced with a wild animal, he descended to the floor, resting one knee to the ground. As the human continued to make a mess, Darius reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a glistening little item between two fingers.
Nevan recognized it instantly, squealing with terror as he violently shook his head. “Please! Don’t, please, I can’t-!” Ignoring the human’s pleads, Darius lightly began ringing the tiny bell in his hand.
The ringing, no matter how light, how delicate, held a commanding, unexplainable presence. Betrayed by his own body, Nevan was unable to cover his ears as means of blocking the noise. The sound was soft, almost musical, causing Nevan’s terrified heart to flutter against his will.
“Come here, little servant.” The vampire sang. He began to lean into the constant ringing, as well as the glossy voice of his owner. “That’s right, return back to master.” Darius beckoned him over, settling onto both knees comfortably.
The matter of his mind was melting, replaced with the weight of the bell’s authority. Lazily, the terrified shake if his body liquefying, Nevan shifted onto his hands and knees. Mesmerized by the sound licking his ears, he clumsily crawled closer, to Darius’ satisfaction.
“Good boy, almost there. Nothing is more important than the bell, isn’t that right?” The movement of the object never ceased.
He smiled. That was right. It was Nevan’s bell, captivating and alluring. The only thing possibly more significant was Darius.
He soon reached the vampire, resting onto his knees with glazed over eyes. Darius gently placed the bell to the floor, ending the loop of hypnotic noise. He tenderly cupped Nevan’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
The vampire took a moment to adjust Nevan’s body, picking up limbs and turning his face as if he was searching for something. After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. “I would’ve been very upset if you managed to lose some of your delectable blood in all that panic. Fortunate for you, it seems you didn’t.”
Nevan would’ve been utterly distraught had he made such a mistake. What a terrible thrall he was even risking it. “Now, are you ready for your reward?” He nuzzled into his master’s comforting touch.
In no other universe could he have been more ready.
for a captivity idea, maybe write about the day Nevan broke like how Malak did? maybe when Darius realizes that Nevan is much more keen to be motivated by praise rather than punishment—as Nevan can ground himself and battle through the pain or discomfort, but the moment concept of praise as a reward is reinforced he crumbles
WOHEO Masterlist
cw: brainwashing/conditioning, memory loss
———————————————————————
Heaving ragged, quivering breaths of distress and raw desperation, Nevan’s head beat and pounded hard on the walls of his mind, thus drowning him in thick pain. His lip trembled with timid haste as his teeth ran across the frayed tips of skin, hands shielding his susceptible ears.
“C’mon… be a good boy for master, won’t you?” Darius sneered, the faux sweetness of his voice eliciting horrified trembles down his captive’s spine.
Nevan wanted to be a good boy, really wanted to be a good boy, and such feelings no short of terrified him. He was slipping, so very wretchedly easily, and he was well aware of it.
One chill, slender hand snuck it’s way over his in the attempt to pry Nevan’s palm from his ear. “So tense, are you? Nothing to be afraid of, really. It’s only Master.”
Nevan’s brain could not help but scatter, just for a moment upon his master’s magical words. How could he possibly resist? His eyes were quick to glaze over, lids draping and vision twisting blurry. Nevan turned to his master, limbs drooping. Just as he had wanted.
“Good boy, so good.” Darius cooed, sounds Nevan knew so well we’re fakely kind and dripping with humiliation, but in the moment he simply leaned into the scratch of slick nails below his chin. His mind swirled in a flurry of pleasure, keening toward his master, as if the vampire was tenderly reeling him in with his song-like voice.
“You want to be good, right? Even better?” Oh, how he wanted to be good. “You must listen and forget, Nevan.”
Forget.
Forget?
“F- for… get?” Nevan whispered, meek and small on his knees. His master merely nodded.
“Yes, pet. Let Master work his magic as he drys your little brain of all the pesky memories that are no longer useful.” No. No. “Then, Master might just name you as the most pathetic pet of them all. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Nevan recoiled, coming back to himself an inch, baring his teeth in defense. He did not want to forget, especially at the mercy of Darius. Could not. Who would? Not Genevieve, not Amara, not his parents, not his friends-
“Hey.” Darius returned, puckered lips beating simmering breath right over his skin. “Calm down. Listen to your master.”
Nevan mewled the slightest of a moan in response, shoulders buckling as an immense shiver of bliss overtook him in an instant. His expression swiftly dropped slack, in contrast to the poorly upheld smile of Darius’ that gradually twisted into that of a grimace.
Listen, listen, listen.
“Hush your head for me now. You can do that, can’t you? Your thoughts are running dry, gumming up and fogging until all you can muster up is your master.” Nevan’s brain complied in full, dissipating until all he could manage to focus on was his master’s wondrously heaven full voice. He sighed in befuddled contentment. “Just relax, letting my calm wash over you and drown you in its hold.”
Maybe, even while pathetically whimpering with pleasure, Nevan could still…
Still resist…
Alas, he was already nodding along and smiling, fight fizzled out at the flick of his master’s tongue. Defiance seemed so unreachable, such a distant idea he could not reach through the cotton plugging up his brain.
His master grinned, the faintest taint of a smirk infecting the tenderness of his spell, dripping just the slightest of sour. Even so, Nevan was quick to melt in his seat with eagerness to obey his every word.
“Your feeble mind is being so easily thwarted, terrible memories stolen away and taken where they will not return. The horrible memories that hurt and only exist to bring you pain. Master is taking them away, isn’t that just nice?”
Nevan nodded along with an empty head, no idea of what he could be agreeing to, almost as if dancing to the hum of Darius’ voice. “Mmm… um, thank, thank… you…”
Fingers snuck their way over the human’s chin, clutching his flesh and strengthening his nod. “You don’t know anything, Nevan, not anymore, do you?” Darius sneered, smugly.
That wasn’t right. Was it? Nevan knew lots of things. “N- no, I… do…”
“You don’t know your friends, your family, no one.” Darius stated, so matter of fact Nevan could not help but digest his nonsense. Yet, he still knew it was nonsense.
“But… um, but…” His master’s speech failed to make any logical sense. Nevan had so many people who loved him, and he knew them very well. His mind was scattered into puzzled pieces, confusion coating every half baked thought that ever so slowly crossed his path.
“Because you don’t have any of that, Nevan. No friends, no family, no one but Master. You don’t need anyone else.” The last bit was whispered like butter licking Nevan’s ear, lips so close his master was nearly kissing his skin.
“O- oh. Oh… Master…” His chest tensed with stinging anxiousness. His brain in it’s entirety was settling into Darius’ magnificent grasp, growing horrifyingly, but at the same time blissfully, fuzzy.
No friends…
No… family…
No… um, no…
Nevan swallowed. He… didn’t have any of that. Did he? It was dreadfully hard to search for any memories of such things, which sparked a light of faint fear to stir and contort with bitterness in his belly.
Even so, Darius’ voice was like a ringing in his ear, reverberating and echoing like that of a holy god. “You can’t remember anyone but Master. Everyone else, all of the painful, irrelevant people dissipate from your head, leaving emptiness in their wake.”
Empty. Empty, empty, so very empty his mind was, connections growing thin and snapping off into the abyss of the vampire’s talk. There was someone there, right? There had to be. “Don’t… know… can, can’t… ‘member…”
Expression twisting with wickedness, his master firmed his clasp over Nevan’s chin. “Who can’t you remember, Nevan? Who don’t you know?”
So desperately he wracked his brain, as much as he could in such a pitiful state, blockades standing tall and firm. “Don’t, don’t, um… dunno…” Nevan’s brows furrowed, eyes pricking with timid tears. “Can’t… don’t… um…”
“Hush. Good boy. No one is left in that tiny head of yours, is there? Nobody left expect for Master.”
“Master…?” Nevan was so confused about everything said in that moment, but he still knew his master well. That was all he needed, was it not?
The vampire hummed in approval. “That is because, my pet, there has only ever been your master. Your pathetic, little life has only been filled with you and your master, from beginning to end, with not another being to interrupt. Isn’t that right?”
“Y- yes… Always… Master…” The fact circled its way around his head, plastering to the walls and fitting into its spot between his gears. It made perfect sense to Nevan, not a single other person coming to mind beside his master.
“Always and only, Nevan.”
“Only… Master…” He’d always been with his master, hadn’t he? Just the two of them… right? Except, somehow, that was wrong. His stomach churned and bubbled, red hot feelings subdued by his previous conditioning snaking free. “But, um, no… no, no, no-!”
“Let go, Nevan, to the grip and truth of my word. Let go of your mind, let go of your pain, and give it away to Master.” Darius pressed him to the wall by the head, smooshing him as far as possible into the concrete.
“N- no! No, no!” Master was wrong, master was very, very wrong and he could not for the life of him place why. Something had to be wrong, even under the weight of such heavenly sensations, because Nevan could simply feel it deep inside of his shivering bones.
“Yes.”
“No! No, no, no! No!”
Nevan no longer knew why he was holding on, why he was so terrified to obey his master. He was utterly unable to unstick his hands from his ears, or to uncurl his shaking frame. Something was missing, maybe many things, but he could not possibly say what. There was only an overwhelming sense of something he could not place, only recognizing the feeling that, even against his master, Nevan must disobey.
“Let. Go.” His master snarled, vibrant with authority and commandment. Rich with force and strength, impossible to fight with.
After holding so dearly on for the last bit of life, the last bit of fight, the last remaining tie to string together Nevan to himself broke.
A swift snap, it went.
He let go of a ragged wail, scratching from his throat and caving in to his master’s will. He released his own inhibitions, his complete accord, releasing the hurt of his own wants. His figure slumped to the wall, drowsy drool dripping from his parted lips, overcome with mind melted exhaustion.
After a time of silence and a pounding brain, slow, careful fingers dipped over Nevan’s dropped, gasping head, calling his remaining conscious back to his master. The touch was pleasantly soft, picking him up from near unconsciousness with pleasure.
Hooking another finger under his human’s chin, Darius met his unfocused gaze with satisfaction. “Pet, tell me, might you have any friends? Any family?” His voice was hushed and tender, gracing Nevan with muddled honey.
It took him a beat of quiet to process the inquiry. “Uh, um….” What an odd question. Did he? That sounded off. Nevan scoured his mushed up mind, unable in the end to make such a strange connection. Faintly, he shook his head. “N- no… no…” Why did the admittance claw at the gentle strings of his heart?
His master simply huffed a content chuckle in response, palm dancing down his thrall’s cheek and sending him spiraling. “Wonderful.”
Nevan delicately poked his head inside the dimly lit room, the tall, wooden door creaking along.
His vision took a moment to settle into the darkness as he looked toward the thrall’s shared mattress placed beside the vampire’s luxurious bed, fully expecting Malak to be seated atop it.
Strangely, he was not.
“Malak?” Nevan called again softly, turning around the room until his gaze landed on the corner farthest from said mattress.
Huddled up to the wall, curled into a tight ball of his large frame Malak sniveled, nose dribbling with snot and eyes rung sickly red. He rubbed his face with his palms, shielding his vision from bright light sneaking in from the open door. “Oh.”
Nevan carefully stepped inside, shutting the door slowly behind him until it clicked. Arms outstretched in front of him he knelt before the ill thrall. “Malak..? Are you… alright?” He questioned, voice low and gravely, trying purposely to not make enough noise that may elicit or increase a headache.
“Um…” Malak started, peeking the tiniest bit out from his legs. His eyes were wide and shaky, body trembling. “Head… feels weeeird… don’t like.” He mumbled quietly, brows furrowing in muddled confusion. “‘M sorry…”
Nevan placed a hand to his knee, rubbing lightly over his skin with a soft thumb. “It’s fine. Yes… you… you should get back in bed…” he urged, guiding Malak's gaze to the tussled mattress he had wandered out of.
“Nngh…! Noooo… no bed, please…” Malak whined, pushing his frame further into the wall behind him. At least, as much farther as he could, already shoved deep against it.
Nevan sighed. “You… you like it here?”
Malak only nodded weakly in response, his head swaying just the slightest bit from dizziness. Nevan lifted a thermometer between two fingers. “Okay… uh, can… Master Darius told me to take your temperature… again… can, can I?”
For a beat Malak considered allowing him to do so, before giving another slight nod of approval. “Umm… shh… sure…”
“Thank you. Say ah.”
The other man obliged, welcoming the thermometer under his outstretched tongue and accepting it by the grip of his lips. The two waited in silence, Nevan still brushing the other man’s skin as a means of comfort.
“Mm… one oh one.” Nevan read the numbers, disapprovingly.
“I’m sorry… sorryyyy… sorry…” Malak slumped back once again, head lolling onto his buckled shoulders. “Head weird… Nevan.” He whispered, shutting his eyes tight.
Nevan wanted to help him, he really did. He didn’t remember ever having been sick himself, but from the look of how hard it hit Malak, he could almost understand exactly how gross he felt. “No… I’m… I’m sorry.” How could he possibly help? How disgustingly useless.
Malak clawed feebly at his own skin and flesh, wriggling and fidgeting restlessly in his spot and portraying his own agony. “Don’t… don’t, ummm, like it… bad. Bad.” He whined, gratingly, the sound scratching against Nevan’s eardrums.
“Well… you’re, you’re talking a lot. That’s nice.”
“Feels weird… bad…”
Nevan frowned. “Well Master had to, to make you more… awake ‘n stuff so we can help you. That’s good… right?”
Adrastus had been practically forced to ease up on Malak’s enthrallment due to his ill state, him having been doing overall far worse with it as intense as normal. Plus, they required him to be able to communicate his pain in order to aid in his recovery. It was a condition he was, as expected, still adjusting to.
“Good… goood…” Malak mimicked. Nevan grinned, just a little bit from hearing the other man still utilizing one of his common habits even when dreadfully sick.
Before Nevan could open his lips to speak again, the door was nuged open so Adrastus could enter. Their arms were full with further bedding, elegantly lush pillows and blankets gathered for their favorite thrall. “Oh, dear, I’m back.” They bumbled in, heading straight to the thrall’s bed before they took notice of its absence of a body.
The pair followed as their face flipped to further distress in a flash, searching quick for their thrall, before landing on the two. “Nevan!” They exclaimed, recoiling an inch backwards. “You mustn’t be in here, get, get! You might catch it! I know how much you care about your little friend, but we just can’t risk you getting sick as well.”
Adrastus slipped between the thralls as Nevan stood to his feet, heading to leave as the vampire had instructed, but was held back by Malak gripping the bottom of his dress with a deadly grip.
“Goodness, how are you doing, baby? Tell me how you feel. What do you need? I can get you anything.” The vampire fussed, tucking their thrall’s sweat coated curls behind his ears and out of the way of his eyes.
Malak mewled, the edge of his words shaky and cracked as the urge to cry was swelling. “Bad… ickyyy…”
“Yes, love, I know, I know. What’s bad?” They pressed, urgently and needily.
He thought for a moment, processing their wants and questions, scouring for an acceptable answer. “Mmmngh… head… my, mmn, nose…”
“Alright, what can I get you? Umm… medicine? I’ll see if we have any more blankets? Please, baby, I’ll get you anything.” Their tone was growing ever so more distressed by the second, desperate for a solution as they nodded along with his soft but pained mumbles. The edge of their words was tainted with what almost seemed like fear.
Nevan watched their conversation unfold, stomach churning with sick and worry filled unease. He’d never seen Adrastus less than elegantly put together, never without their dignified, strict composure. The sight of them carefully trying to keep up their facade rattled anxiety in his bones.
“Want… want…” Malak gazed gently upward, meeting the other thrall with cloudy eyes that mirrored the still hazy fog of his mind. “Nevaaannnn… Nevaaaannn…!” He continued tugging at the dress flowing from Nevan’s waist, jerking him harder and harder as Nevan struggled against the much stronger man.
“No, no. No Nevan.” Their tone was devoid of anger, rather spewing with urgency. “Nevan. Leave.”
“Nooo! Nevaaann…! Need!”
His head was spinning, being called every which way. He didn’t know what to do, who’s orders to follow. His face was tainted with the scald of flattery, poorly hiding his excitement of someone, especially Malak, expressing a need of him. Him. Though, he knew such defiance was not acceptable.
“No, sweet, Master is right here. Nevan can’t help you, but master can. You could get Nevan sick.” Adrastus corrected with a strained smile, trying their very best to remain calm. “And, you like master more, don’t you? Master’s right here.”
Malak whined again, looking nearly dejected, making Nevan’s heart only hurt further with vigorous compassion. “Sorry… sorry… need, ummm, Nev… annn…”
“No! You are sick! You’re going to get him sick!” Their voice continued rising with stinging heat, shouting at their own thrall while still in a short vicinity. They had dropped any and all lingering peace in their mind, and Nevan jumped back, cowering weakly.
They never yelled at Malak. Never. Both thralls were understandably stuck in place with surprise, salty tears instinctively welling in Malak’s eyes. Nevan wished he could’ve done something, anything, but Adrastus' burning stare was well enough to keep him frozen in place.
“‘M sorry… sorry-”
“Ad, it’s okay, it’s just a fever.” Darius piped up from the back, soft and calm yet unexpected. The three huddled together whipped around to face him, Adrastus’ expression boiling with flushed anger and embarrassment. “He’ll probably get it anyway and they’ll both be fine.”
The other vampire shook their head frantically, a sight that only put Nevan more on edge. “No! N- no, he, he can’t get sick! We can’t let him get sick,
Hester can’t be sick.”
The air flipped the switch to silence, save for their quick and exhausted breaths. Nevan stared dumbly, all he really could do paralyzed by fear. He’d learned full well what happened when a vampire was upset.
Nevan had… never heard such a name before. Of course, not that he could recall, but still. It was sudden, and even Adrastus appeared disturbed that they had let it slip.
“Dear,” Darius interrupted, his voice eerily soothing and kind. He’d never spoken that way. At least not to Nevan, which wasn’t at all surprising. “You need to step away.”
“No, no, I-”
“Ad.” Their lips zipped to a close. “I need you to take a minute.” He looked to his own thrall, who shrunk back with festering fear. “Nevan, take them to the kitchen.”
Malak erupted, moaning in aching agony. “Nooo! Noooo… I need Master! Need… Nevan…”
Adrastus instinctively curled their hands over that of Malak’s, gaze full of unbridled abd desperate saccharine. “But- but what about-”
“Malak will be fine. I’ll stay with him.”
“But, the doctor-”
“Baby, the doctor said the same. He just needs rest and the meds she gave us.”
“Masterrr…!” Malak called again, his words cut apart by thick whimpers and snivels. The sound of his suffering carved deep marks in Nevan’s ears, and even more so Adrastus’.
“But…” they paused, begrudgingly stepping back from their upset thrall. Nevan looked to the other man with sorry eyes as Malak’s face twisted in disappointment as the two headed to leave. “Can I come back…?”
“Of course, Ad. I just need you to calm down, okay?” Darius placed a hand on each shoulder, tenderly guiding them to the door before Malak could continue his outbursts and convince them to stay. “You can take a couple sips from Nevan if you would like.”
“O- okay. Okay. But I’ll be right back to your side, baby. I’ll make sure Nevan is all nice and, and safe and away from any diseases.”
Nevan gave one last small wave to his friend before leaving, Adrastus gripping and squeezing his forearm, biting their lip with unusual nervousness. He tried not to pay too much attention to it. “Thank you, master.”
Though, as the two walked out to the kitchen and he kneeled beside his master, neck craned to show off his throat, even with his brain dazing out from their strong aura, he couldn’t help but dwell on the name they’d previously let slip instead of his.
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I bet Adrastus wakes Malak up w soft murmurs in their own native language as they stroke his eyes, hair, and cheek
Darius simply snaps and Nevan is up
WOHEO Masterlist
cw: hypnosis, pet whump, servant whump
———————————————————————
“Mmmnn…” Malak hummed lightly, the brush of fingers frolicking through his curls stirring him from heavy, weightful sleep. Curling into the embrace of stuffed toys and blankets that scattered his body, his cheek deepened it’s succumb into his cloud soft bed.
His master, with care and delicacy, crawled beside him, hands trailing over the cusps of his plump skin. “Wakey, wakey, love.” They whispered, lips nearly kissing his ear, spreading over with the warmth of their breath.
“Mmmngh… mmm…” he groaned, shifting further to drowsy comfortability, rather than their call of consciousness.
Adrastus giggled, sweet and soft, a song that swept through his open ears. “So silly, you. Sleepy boy. Sleepy, sleepy… alas, we must awaken for the night. A pity, really.” They circled his cheek, touch following to a path down to his belly.
“Nngh…” He flopped over and onto his back, allowing them full range to rub the flesh of his plush stomach. They slithered around him, smile kind and entrancing. Drool beads dribbled from the corners of his upturning lips as he snuggled into them.
“You mustn’t truly get up just yet, baby. Just allow your little mind to unfold from sleep.” They murmured, settling their head atop his own, and nuzzling against his cheek, only eliciting more quiet purrs out from his lips.
For what felt like an eternity they whispered supple, magical mumbles through one ear and out the other, honeydew coos that graced his mind with cotton candy clouds. Malak wished he would never have to get up, and his master would just allow him to simmer in bliss for a lifetime.
Really, they did.
…
Only one single chime of an- his- insistent, ringing bell was needed to stir Nevan’s mind from drooping unconsciousness in that of an instant, ripping him quick out of slumber. Breath hitching, he lifted from the cushion that was his bed, frame swaying with drowsy dizziness as he neatly clasped his palms together. Master, master, master, his mind shrieked, obeying dutifully to the call of the bell.
“Up.” His master commanded, towering below the doorway, an elegantly green robe tied perfectly around his slender waist.
Nevan blinked slowly, adjusting to the world around him. Admittedly he should’ve been immediately up and ready to go, should have been much used to the repetition of their morning routine. “Sure, um, Mas… ter…” he stumbled, wiping at his eyes and yawning with casualty as he shifted to kneeling.
Frown firming, Darius grimaced with tense disapproval. “Again.”
“Yes, Master.” The words rolled right from the thrall’s swift tongue, no hesitancy blocking the way of his speech. Nevan made a beeline to his feet, resuming his expected position.
He couldn’t believe he had been so insolent. So unforgivably and disgustingly disrespectful. Toward his master, no less. Yawning? Sure? His master even had to wake him up himself!
For the rest of morning chores, bouncing about his brain Nevan chastised himself for making such an idiotic mistake. He hoped his master could find it in his heart to grant him undeserved forgiveness, but he knew a punishment would be awaiting him.
The door to the tight cottage opened quick and just as fast slammed shut, booming against the walls as the vampire resident stomped inside. Malak watched carefully as Nevan’s expression of disdain deepened, scattering grocery bags across the rug as he discarded them.
“N- Nevan,” Malak started, ready to greet his friend, setting his crochet work to the couch cushion beside him. “Is, um, is-,”
With not even a hint of care Nevan passed him by, pounding down the short hallway to their shared bedroom. Again, he slammed the door to a close. Without even a second for Malak to catch his mind up to speed, a mountain of furious screams erupted from the pit of the bedroom, muffled by a plush pillow but still loud enough to rattle Malak’s bones.
Gradually Malak backed and sunk into a new spot, one cramped between the couch and the wall, wrapping himself into a ball of fear.
Twiddling his thumbs, stomach churning in knots as he listened to the vampire’s shrieks, Malak’s anxiety proceeded to run wild. Had he done something wrong? Was Nevan mad at him? Did Nevan hate him now? Was Malak bad? What if Nevan never forgave him?
Soon enough the noise died down to silence, unlike Malak’s anxiousness, which continued to run wild in his mind.
“Malak?” Slightly he perked up at the mention of his own name, called from down the hall, only coming closer as Nevan neared. “Malak?”
“H- here.” He replied, a nearly missed whisper as he curled tighter into the ball of himself.
Nevan’s feet soon stepped into vision, Malak much too full of terror to meet his face as he kept his gaze stuck to the carpet. “What, what’re you doing down there?”
The lump in his throat caused for hesitation. “You, um, you’re mad… at me…” Malak muttered, quiet and soft, spoken so low Nevan barely heard him.
“Wh- not at you! Never!”
“R- really…? You aren’t?” Shifting upwards they met with their eyes, both pools of a deep brown.
“Of course not. How could you ever make me mad?” Nevan lowered to a kneel before him. “Did… I, I scare you?”
Malak hid his face in his arms. “Y- yeah… I’m, um, I’m sorry…”
“I’m sorry, Malak. I’m so, so sorry.”
“‘S okay.”
“It’s just… like, some guys pissed me, me off, and everyone at the store was staring at me,” his voice raised with anger, growing louder and hotter with each passing word, “an’ this stupid woman bumped into me, and my hair is too fucking long and I can’t fucking cut it!” Turning back to Malak he noticed the other man backed further into his corner, anxiety further present. He dropped his irritation in a mere second. “Am, am I scaring you again?”
“Um… mhm…”
“Sorry… sorry…” Malak swallowed, hard, as the other man took a moment to think. “Can you come on out?”
Malak nodded faintly, taking the vampire’s hand as he stepped out from his hiding spot. Nevan must have taken notice of his still present tremble. “You’re not still scared… are you?”
“Um, um, a little.” He admitted, awaiting the fury that he knew was coming toward him.
Silence followed for a beat, Nevan guiding him back near his previous seat.
“What were you doing while I was gone?” The vampire questioned, vision trailing over his scattered out group of yarn and tools. “Crocheting?”
“Yes, um, Nevan.”
Expression softening, Nevan gifted him a tender smile, one that bubbled bliss through his brain. “How cute.”
Malak’s face flushed with the kindness of warmth. “S- stop it…”
Nevan laughed, a high pitched chuckle that graced the two’s ears with joy. “How about you sit back down and do some more. It’ll make you feel better. And… if it’s okay, I’d like to sit with you.”
“Yeah… yeah. Please.” Malak nodded eagerly, the two placing themselves back to the couch cushions.
“Here’s a blanket.” Nevan placed Malak’s favorite over the pair’s laps, fuzzy and soft like clouds. “Can I snuggle with you? Is that okay?”
“Uh, uh huh.”
Nevan placed his head to Malak’s shoulder, and a hand on his head as his voice dropped gentle and tender. “Now, you just relax and focus on your work, and the hand carding gently through your hair.”
“Your heartbeat slows, and so does your mind, any remaining fear squashed by the weight of calm. Nevan is here, and Nevan isn’t scary, he’s safe. The safest person ever, the only one you can trust. Isn’t that right?”
Malak, with deep, glossy doe eyes, nodded slowly, lips parting in a gradual manner as he mumbled. “Mmm… uh… huh… safe…”
Ruffling the other man’s hair softly, Nevan grinned. “Good, good. Such a good boy.”
“Thank you, um, Nevan…” Malak giggled, a beaming smile squishing his pudgy cheeks as warmth swirled through his chest at the sound of beloved praise.
imagine Nevan having a want, a need of sorts. Darius wouldn’t care of course, but Adrastus spots it simmering beneath the surface and invites the thrall to state his need, without any punishment, but also without guarantee that it could be accommodated.
Nevan fights it at first but after Ad commands it via thrall he finally whispers that he wished Malak was less enthralled so he could have someone to talk to—like he had been when he was sick. a disgustingly selfish need on Nevan’s end that he fully expects to be punished for suggesting.
idk what happens next but I doubt Adrastus would be angry, perhaps having sympathy for the thrall while remaining firm that Malak would remain the way he is(??)
It was obvious to the vampire that something just had to be poking at the man’s usually muddled brain. From Nevan’s furrowed brows to his lack of concentration, his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Adrastus had been aiding him in washing some of the thrall’s dishes, bored of sitting around endlessly with nothing to do. The kitchen was tainted with a pinch of awkward air, but neither seemed to mind too much.
Nevan blinked hard, catching himself and swiftly continuing to scrub the dish between his fingers, flustered. “Um… no, no, of course not, master.”
“Nothing troubling you? Nothing at all?” They pressed, leisurely scraping food scraps into the sink.
Adrastus wasn’t an idiot. Of course he’d say no. He’d probably learned very quickly that his own master was in no way fond of entertaining the feelings of a thrall. A bit sad, if you asked them.
“No, sir.”
They sighed. “Nevan,” he stopped as they turned to face him, avoiding eye contact and biting his lip. “Do not lie to me. If something is the matter, tell me.”
For a moment, he hesitated. “Everything is, is fine, master. Nothing… nothing is wrong.”
“Love, I don’t appreciate you hiding things. I’m not going to punish you for whatever you have to say, I swear on it.”
“Master, I’m, I’m fine!”
They placed a hand to his exposed shoulder, rubbing their thumb over his lush skin. “Shhh, darling, you can trust me. You can trust master, I would never hurt you.”
Their smile only hardened as they noticed him easily slipping under their luscious control, eyes going glassy and muscles relaxing under their sweet, sweet touch. How utterly adorable. “Master… I… I’m fine…”
“You trust master oh, so much. You trust me with every single thought in that little mind of yours, even the bad ones. Master just wants to help you. Master can help you.”
He carefully dropped his plate to the counter, body swaying with silky ease and calm. “I’m… I…”
“C’mon, baby. You can tell Master. You want to tell Master.” Their aura was amping up with hypnotic force, tugging his secret right out from under him.
“I… I wish…”
“Nevan. Tell me.”
His voice fell to a soft whisper as his relent snapped into a shatter of tiny pieces. “I, I wish Malak was… awake. Like me. So, so I could have someone to talk to… like when he was sick.”
“Oh.”
How pitiful.
Yet, how utterly and undeniably endearing at the same time.
“Oh, dear.” Adrastus’ grin faded, falling into that of a compassionate pout. Pulling Nevan into a tight embrace they dug their head into his chest, contact he fully melted into.
After a moment of pleasant, warm hugging, Adrastus pulled the thrall to their level, cupping his chin. “I… understand that. Yes, I could see why you’d yearn for such a thing.”
Their heart split just the tiniest bit at the glimmer in his eye, like he dumbly believed they would consider such a thing. It was silly, really, but only made him ten times cuter. “Though, I’m sorry little love, I just can’t ease up on him like that. He needs such a heavy spell to quell his ever present anxiousness and messy mind. He needs it to feel good.”
“You understand, don’t you?”
“Yes… master…” his words were coated with dissatisfaction and disappointment, but still muddled with daze. So eager to please, he was, even when had he been more conscious he would’ve easily argued.
They would never let that happen.
Adrastus’ grin returned in full, almost as if it had never left. “Good, good. Such a good boy, you.” They tussled his hair, sending his mind reeling and his dopily happy expression to return as well. “Now, just remember, you can always tell me anything else your little mind stirs up, alright? No judgement here, baby.”
“Oh- okay. Of course… sir. Tell… tell you… anything…”
They chuckled, pecking him right on the forehead and whispering beside his susceptible ear. “Such an obedient thrall. Just splendid.”
In that of a flash their demeanor flipped, patting the thrall on the cheek and awakening him from their trance. “Now, back to your chores you go, darling!” Nevan quickly picked back up his task, this time with complete focus and attention like always.
Before they let the conversation go and risk the talk washing right out from Nevan’s memory, Adrastus leaned in close just one more time. “Then make sure you go spend some time playing with your little friend, okay?”
