A place for fanart and fanfiction based on The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls.
There will be a lot of yandere and dark themes, especially featuring Dr. Stockill, so minors and antis DNI.
Currently you can request headcanons and short stories ONLY for Dr. Stockill.
Thank you very much again for your responses!! Am now even more hyped for future chapters!!
Hahah, poor lit professor!! Structuring everything is quite tricky tho, isn’t it? I have been trying to do it more often in writing myself XD
Ooooo, may I ask if there are any ideas for the modern AU? Would it just be a modern-day psych ward / asylum environment, or would you be removing the asylum aspect altogether and have the characters elsewhere? 👀
Hope you have an amazing day!! :D
Hiii I feed off your energy 😋 I love your enthusiasm.
I’m sorry I haven’t been able to post. My new living arrangement is not the best and I’m stuck here for two years… so I’m trying to make my place as liveable as possible without triggering my myriad of health issues. 😅
To answer your question: I’m thinking both. I want to explore the classic “cafe AU” approach but also the modern psych ward AU. But maybe less about the imprisonment. I wanna write about manipulation from health professionals towards their patients. It happens much more than it should and very few people speak about it.
My family went through that, specifically my dad and I. So I wanna approach that topic.
Yay!! Thank you for the reply to my previous ask! Was really cool to hear the thought that went into writing Stockill!
May I ask, do you have any other ideas/fics lined up for when you complete your current work in progress? 👀
Also (if this doesn’t stray too far into spoiler territory, haha) do you have an ending (or endings) in mind for the current fic? Or are you more a ‘see where the story takes you’ kind of writer?
Tysm again!! :DD
Hehe, I love your enthusiasm. I gives me energy to continue writing!
I'm glad you liked my answers.
I'm thinking a more modern AU... but I still have The Bitter Fruit in my mind, so it's hard to give space for another idea, hehe. ^^U
I do have two endings... I dunno if both are gonna be liked, but... I do promise both will be interesting! ^w^
I have the overall structure, start, and end. But the way chapters play out are more of a "see where the story takes me", then I go back a bit to tailor it and canalise it towards the ending I want to it's cohesive and coherent. It's a bit chaotic, but I've never been able to structure everything my lit prof almost cried about to make me do it. ^^U Bless his soul, he didn't hate me but I frustrated him so much!
If you have any ideas for new fics, I really am open for them. It also helps me know what you, as my audience, like.
Thank you so much for your asks, I really do cherish them!
Hiya!!! Just wanted to pop in to say that I really love your writing and have been fascinated by your Stockill fic!
I wanted to ask what thought goes into how you write Stockill? Like, do you base how you write his behaviour towards reader on his dynamics with others in the book (Emily and/or Mornington especially), or do you work more off of headcanon?
I believe you made a comment that you believed how you wrote Stockill was OOC (if my memory’s working right now lol) - if so, do you think a more ‘canon’ Stockill would act quite differently towards an obsession than your version of him?
I’ll cut off here to avoid this ask getting too convoluted, but it’s super cool to find someone else who writes for this guy and so I’d love to hear your thoughts!! :D
Hiii! I’m sorry. I’ve been sick all week so I really couldn’t answer. Thank you so much for liking my writing and for sending this ask!
Okay let’s answer your questions:
I do both. The way he acts with his mother is really different than the way he acts even with his coworkers. And then he acts another different way with Emily. I kinda tried to mix both way that he acts with the object of his obsession. And I sprinkled in a bit of headcanon to make it a bit more flexible because we all Stockill doesn’t really like to touch people and has a love hate relationship to blood. That’s where the headcanon comes in: we don’t know how he acts with his darling once the doors are closed. Emilie never really described it. So I gotta do some mental work for it based on what we do know… and give leeway for the story to unfold, hehe.
I do think that he would act a bit differently in canon. Maybe he’d be less affectionate than he is with mother considering, again, how he hates being touched. And with his mother he wants to be loved in his twisted ways. With a darling he’d want to possess them… you’re not trying to please an object, right? In his head I think it’s the same difference. I dunno if it makes sense. ^^U
Así Ask as much as you want!! I’ll gladly answer as my health gives me more time for it! I live being sent these.
Thank for your support and if you have any comments feel free to leave them, as well as ideas for more in universe stories and even AUs!!
In which you're presented with a dilemma... will you risk not just your livelihood but also your friends' or will you take the offer the spider is giving you...? Is it even a real choice when both the options are equally horrific...?
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Fem presenting gender neutral reader x Dr. Stockill
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TW: stalking, psychological and emotional manipulation, infanitilzation of subordinate, betrayal, lies;
CAROLINA REAPER LEVEL SPICINESS: DUBCON BORDERING ON RAPE, NUDITY, ORAL, INTERCOURSE, BONDAGE. (If there's more later I'll add them)
THIS IS MY HEAVIEST, MOST INTENSE CHAPTER SO FAR, IF YOU HAVE ISSUES WITH INTENSE SEXUAL SCENES, THE TAGS ARE NOT TO YOUR LIKING OR YOU HAVE TRAUMA THAT WILL BE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE MENTIONED TOPICS PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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“What happened…?” you said, sitting up in a dark room, looking around.
“Finally awake, pet, good,” Stockill’s voice said as he walked up to you out of the shadows. He turned on a side lamp and smiled, sitting next to you. “How’s your head?”
“My head…?” you whispered then winced, frowning as you touched your head. It was a whirl in your mind and you were very confused. What were you doing there? How did you get there??
“You’re lucky I was walking down the hallway when it happened,” he said, gently pressing a cold cloth to the back of your head.
“What-what happened?” you asked, fear starting to set in. “I was in the cell, everyone had filed out and I had forgotten something and- Oh…”
You mind started to put pieces back together… you had been called back by Tony, you had had a talk with him. Things got… close… and then? And then?! You couldn’t remember, you kind of remembered talking to Basil, but then everything went black… what had happened.
“Oh no…” you gasped as your mind gave you what sounded like a strange but plausible answer. “Not, Tony...”
“I’m afraid so, pet…” Stockill said, frowning and caressing your cheek. “Tony was dragging your limp body out of the cell when I got there. He’s being dealt with, though. To think what could’ve happened- no, no, it’s lucky I was walking to your cell anyway…”
You jumped, you hadn’t meant to say Tony’s name out loud, but then… who else?? Tears streamed down your cheeks as Stockill opened his arms for you. Taking refuge into them you sobbed, feeling betrayed. How could he…? You thought as you cried. He had been so sweet, that kiss had been so chaste… No, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t-
“N-No, it couldn’t-” you started, pushing Stockill away gently to look up at him, but his eyes flashed and you recoiled a bit. “W-What’s wrong, M-Mont-”
“So I lie?” he whispered softly. You had never heard such an edge to his voice. “So my pet thinks I could lie and make up such stories?”
“N-No! No, Montmorency, please! That’s not what I meant, I just-I can’t believe he’d do that, is all!” you rushed to say, shaking a bit. What was this? You looked all wrong… he looked—he looked almost murderous! “Montmorency, please… you’re scaring me…”
At these words he coughed, blinked and shook his head, cupping your cheek gently with his cold hands. “Oh, pet. I apologise… I didn’t mean to scare you. I just could not believe you’d think I’d lie to you! You, the one I cherish above anything else!” he said, resting your foreheads together.
“The-what?” you said, blinking tears away and looking at him, blushing fiercely. “Oh, Montmorency, you mean that??”
Your heart leaped a thousand times and the ominous thoughts were erased from your head as quickly as they had come. Cherish?? He cherished you?? That was so amazing that you couldn’t really believe it.
“Of course, my wonderful pet. Look at you, eyes shining, cheeks like two rose petals… Aren’t you adorable? You are my pet, and I cherish you. This is why…” he said, smiling softly at you, kissing the corner of your lips gently, then motioning around the room you two were in. “This is why I moved you here… right next to me…”
“What?!” you squeaked, looking around as he chuckled. He let you go and stood up from what you now registered was a small, soft bed with a wrought iron bed frame complete with header and footer. It had wrought iron ivy “growing” around it, and the canopy was made of soft gossamer white gauze hanging from wrought iron branches that enveloped you in.
As he stood up, he went to the wall and turned the bronze switch next to your bed, illuminating the bedroom. It was as if you were sleeping in an enchanted forest: the walls were painted with trees, flowers, even a small babbling brook. The window seat was concealed by fake tree trunks on either side, silk leaves falling in cascades making a curtain to give you privacy. The rugs were soft and moss green, some even had silk flowers sewn on them, more silk flowers hanging from the ceiling. The lamps were also whimsical, on rickety old side tables, and gave out a soft candle glow; even the sofa looked like it had been made by a fairy. There were books in the shelves, knicknacks in a couple of cabinets, mostly dolls and other expensive-looking toys and decorations. It looked very decorate but not distasteful, just the perfect balance in all of it.
“Oh, Montmorency! Is this-is this where I’ll be sleeping?!” you gasped, standing up, your feet relishing how soft the rugs were. Something caught your eye and you quickly made your way to a table, finding Basil snoring in a habitat made of bronze and glass, it looked like a greenhouse, big enough for his considerable size. “You even gave a house to Basil Basil??”
“I’ve seen him around you, sleeping in your mattress and you feeding him crumbs. He just ate a good amount of sunflower seeds and fell asleep while we waited for you to wake up… I hope he likes his new place, but by all means he can free reign of your room. It is yours after all…” Stockill said, caressing your cheek softly as you shuffled back to him. “Go that way and open that door. Yes, the one with the nymphs on it…”
You did as instructed and opened the door to a smaller room, or what looked like a smaller room. The walls were made of polished wood and it was lined with clothes though.
“Mont-” you started but he chuckled and showed you how to turn the light on. “That’s-these are clothes!”
“Yes, pet, and all yours…” he said smiling as he rested his tall frame on the door’s frame so casually you blushed again. He looked so handsome like that… “Go on then, look at everything…”
You nodded happily and rummaged in the racks and drawers, pulling out things that caught your eye. You couldn’t help but notice most of the fabrics were soft but a bit translucent, not something you’d wear in public. Not even here at the asylum. You blushed again but continued to look through the clothes as they were undeniably beautiful.
“Sir?” you asked sheepishly as you pulled out a long gauzy shift and turned to him. “It’s a bit see through no?”
“So…? It’s not like you will be walking down the hallways with it on. I want to be able to see you, no matter what you’re wearing…” he said, eyes half lidded, a side smile on his lips. “Put it on, pet…”
He nodded his head at you and you looked at him with wide eyes but nodded. “Yes, sir, let me just-” you started, but he stopped you and wagged his long spider-like finger at you.
“No, no, pet. Undress right here before me… and make sure you’re not wearing any under garments…” he whispered, leaning down and kissing your nose. “And make sure to do it slowly. I want to relish you…”
Your blush would’ve been enough to brighten up the dark room without the bulb, but you nodded and took a step back, slowly undoing your shift’s buttons and pulling it up and over your head. You squeaked and stopped as you felt cold long fingers touch your midriff and your sides, and as you tried to take the rest of the shift off to free your head you became stuck.
“S-Sir??! I’m stuck!” you gasped, squirming as you felt his lips in your skin.
“Hmmm… how unfortunate,” you heard him say and you swore you could hear the smile in his lips. “Now, stop moving, pet, you could- ah!”
As you squirmed, his breath tickling you, you both fell over on the soft rug, his arm stopping your fall slightly before he fell on top of you.
“S-sorry!” you whined, still fighting against the shift, but he stopped you, and you froze.
“Stop. Squirming,” he said firmly, giving you a slight shake, then you felt his lips kiss your sternum, then downwards. “You will learn to trust me, pet, I will teach you. Do not worry…”
You whimpered softly as he reached your undergarments but had stopped squirming finally; you breathing was ragged as he undid the knot on your underpants and pulled them down slowly. You could feel the cold breeze that came in from the window, and then his warm breath on your skin, and that made you moan softly, making him chuckle.
“What a good pet you are…” he whispered against you as he kissed down your navel. He pressed down your hips gently with one hand and pushed your legs up as he went, keeping his feet firmly on the rug with both hands.
“S-Sir?!” you gasped as you felt him too near your most sensitive region. “Montmorency, wha-?”
“You want this, pet… You can’t deny it. Your heart beat was quickened, your skin is flushed, your nether regions have started to lubricate themselves for what is to come. You want this…” he said softly, kissing your inner thighs as he spread them gently, letting your feet move finally. “I know you, and you want this… your body doesn’t lie..”
Did you really want this? You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t into things like this. At least you didn’t think you were. You had only ever been with one of the older boys at the place you lived and once you were jailed here your companion had been the Captain. And Jolie was extremely respectful of you and your boundaries. She had never done anything to nor with you that she had not have your completely approval. She had never assumed nor told you you wanted something, but then again she was a woman. Maybe men were different to boys and women? You had never been touched by guards the way others had, and you weren’t part of the Opheliac Gallery that every year started in mid May with the Garden Frolic and finished in early January, when the upper bedrooms were too cold to go up there without lighting the fires… Yet, Tony had kissed you without asking, and now Stockill was touching you… was this a normal thing for men to do?
You were scared of his advances, had been rebuffing him for quite a bit now, maybe he had grown impatient? No, he was the most patient person you ever knew! Even more than Jolie, no. Maybe he did know you and even better than you knew yourself, he knew you lusted after him just as much as he seemed to lust after you. He knew you couldn’t admit it to yourself, he knew you were scared, so he had taken the decision from you and made things easier.
“Y-Yes sir…” you said, stammering a bit as you felt his tongue lick up the inside of your thigh. You still weren’t that sure, you still had your doubts. A small voice in the back of your head, suspiciously sounding like Jolie, told you to stop him. That you were in danger, that this was all wrong… but you brushed her aside, at least for now. His fingers were feeling too good as he touched you, caressing your thighs up till he slowly transferred his fingers to your nether spot, caressing you softly… and you couldn’t help but moan loudly.
“That’s it…” he almost purred against you as his lips took the place of his fingers and you moaned again, whimpering, your hips threatening to move on their own. “That’s it, pet… let it wash over you, let is take control, that desire you feel… let it control you from within. Be a good pet, and let it win…”
Your tears welled at his words for some reason, but you decided to be “a good pet” and let the lust win you over, letting out another even louder moan as he took you in his mouth, his tongue lapping at you. Your arms were starting to go numb but you didn’t care, the fact you couldn’t fight against Stockill even if you wanted to was enough to ignite a flame within you that you didn’t even know could exist. You curled your toes and gasped at this realization and he chuckled against you, feeling as you clenched yourself in reflex.
“Feel too good?” he asked, surfacing a bit to breath and kissing your navel again. “Let me continue, pet… there we go… good, you’re doing very good…”
His praise made you melt as he continued ministrations, whimpering and moaning his name, the shift threatening to tear as you squirmed your arms a bit, trying to access your own chest to touch yourself, it was just that good, just that pleasurable. Slowly but surely he guided you towards the edge and suddenly, with a flick of his tongue he pushed you over, your orgasm almost earth shattering as you cried out his name, your hips bucking now.
You had had orgasm before, but never like this… this was superior to anything you had felt even if a small rock had fallen to the pit of your stomach once you had settled. It had been all encompassing, and since you couldn’t see and hear very muffled noise in that shift, you felt the sensations amplified. As you laid on the rug panting, you could feel his expert hands working on the shift till your head and arms were freed. You let them fall to either side of you, your eyes lost in the distance, as he used it to clean you up. He then pulled your head up and kissed you deeply; you could taste yourself in his mouth—sending you over the edge again—and you fell backwards, your head rolling to the side as you passed out from all the pleasure. Your head wound was in such a distant past you didn’t even notice it protest as you drifted off into the darkness again…
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“No, I refuse to believe that! They’re not dead!” Jolie cried into her mattress, having stuffed it with the last of the hay that was left from yours. She had found a little amethyst from the violets and had hid it in her mattress as well. She had been sobbing her eyes out ever since she had seen your space empty.
“Captain, I’m sorry, but… that’s the only explanation. He had been looking peaky for some time now, hadn’t they?” Valentine said, frowning as she soothed the white hair gently, sitting on the floor next to her.
“No!! Shut it!! It’s not true!!” the white haired woman howled, batting her away and resuming her sobs into her pillow.
The cell looked more bleak than usual, with her wails and sobs echoing against the walls. Everyone shook their heads and sighed, feeling heavy hearted, unable to give her any other explanation.
“But… Basil isn’t ‘ere either, Valentine,” Veronica said, frowning a bit. “Sir Edward said so, ‘e said so ‘imself, that Basil is also missing…”
Valentine frowned her green eyes and bit her little lower lip. “That’s… weird, isn’t it?”
Jolie looked up at their words, hopeful. “See?? If Basil is missing it just means they’ve been transferred!! Sir Edward, please, please I beg of you!! Find them!! I need to know they are alright, please!!”
The rat sat next to her on her pillow and sighed, fixing his whiskers. “My dear child… I’ve been scanning the whole place but it seems they aren’t here at all, they have completely vanished. I cannot locate either of them anywhere within the floors of the asylum…” he said, then soothed her cheek as she resumed her wailing. “They indeed seem to be still alive, though, darling. That I can tell because the death cart hasn’t been used today and there has been no reports of any… bodies coming out of our institution. So we can rest assured that wherever they are, they are alright! We could also consider a not so considerable fact…”
Jolie turned her sweet face to him and nodded for him to proceed, and he did so after cleaning his whiskers again:
“We need to think about two possibilities actually: one, that they might actually have been let out. And I know it’s a laughable possibility, dear ladies. But stranger things have happened. Yet, the second possibility… could be darker. You see, the good doctor has been doing a lot of experimentation lately and it seems that your darling has been the subject a lot of it, Miss Jolie. They had been invited to both his office and his chambers quite a number of times and each time they come out dizzy, red faced, and not acting like themselves. Safe to say they have been experimented on quite a few times. We sadly do not have anyone small enough to squeeze themselves into the Doctor’s chambers nor office. We need to find some mice that are willing to be our spies for this, but given our spy death rate it probably will be unlikely. Knowing this now, we could very well assume they have been taken to a chamber we have no knowledge of to continue said experimentation… Which is such a bleak outlook, dear ladies, but we can at least say they are still alive. Using this we can draw a new plan to attempt a rescue.”
Jolie blinked at the rat and sighed, rubbing the tears coming from her eyes and sitting up. “Do you really believe this, Sir Edward?” she whispered, gently taking him in her hands.
“My dear Jolie, I’d never propose it as a possibility if I didn’t…” he said, nodding.
The white haired woman nodded back and frowned. “Then let’s draw a plan to attempt a rescue. They do not deserve this treatment…”
“Well said, my Captain. Then we will do this…” he said, turning to look at the others who had remained quiet for his little speech.
Everyone erupted in claps and cheers, agreeing to the plan.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“Montmorency…?” you whispered softly, waking up back in your new bed, looking around.
“Mmm…?” his voice said from beside the tiled chimney. He was sitting in what looked like a squishy, soft chair, leisurely reading a fairy tale book by the light of a couple of lamps. “This Cinderella has some weird hallucinations. Awake, my pet?”
You giggled and slid off the bed, noticing you were wearing the gauzy nightgown you had seen in the clothing room. The memory of what had happened there smacked you in the face and you blushed, pausing your skipping towards him. He noticed and looked up at you.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, closing the book, and patting his knee for you.
You immediately walked up to him, as if drawn by an invisible rope towards him and sat diligently on his knee, feeling nude even with the gauzy thing on.
“Why did you giggle, pet?” he asked, pushing hair off your face gently. “What’s so funny?”
“Well…” you said, biting your lower lip. “Cinderella isn’t hallucinating. She’s being protected by her fairy godmother! See? Here she is…”
You gently turned the pages to show him an illuminated plate showing the godmother and Cinderella.
“You know French…?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Not really, but I know the story. We had this book, the old lady that took care of us knew French and she told us about the story. I used to dream that one day I’d be like Cindy and be taken from that life… which, I ended up being, I guess?” you said, giggling again.
Stockill frowned and rested his forehead on your shoulder as you perused the book, humming softly.
“So you see yourself as Cinderella… do you? Waiting for your… prince?” he said softly against you, his breath going right through the fabric of your nightgown, hitting your skin. You felt his grip tightening a bit, his arms almost iron clad around you.
“I mean, aren’t all of us like her…? Waiting for our one true love…?” you asked, confused and then squeaked as you felt his arms tighten again. “Mo-Montmorency! It hurts!”
“You mean to tell me you’re still looking for your one true love…? The Prince who will sweep you off your feet and take you away from here…? From me?!” he growled, and you shuddered.
Ah, so this was it. This was the whole problem… You frowned and turned your head towards him angrily, squirming in his arms. How could he be still be doing this?? Weren’t you here, with him?? Hadn’t you let him do… whatever that was that happened?? Weren’t you here in his arms, willingly?!
“Montmorency Stockill, you’re hurting me, stop this nonsense this instance!” you yelled, still squirming against him. “I never meant that! You are my Prince!”
His dark eyes quickly shifted to you, his neck turning so fast you swore it popped. He scrutinized your face intently and then he slowly let go of you, his arms softening around you.
“What?” he whispered softly. “What did you call me…?”
“Prince, I called you my Prince! You treat me so kindly, you’re the only one who has ever known what I truly feel, how I truly think. And you seem to know what I want more than the others. Look at this place! I’ve never mentioned once I like fairy tales, yet you made this place in such a way to appeal to me! How did you know?? How do you know the first thing about me?? The way you just effortlessly do these things, I love it! A prince would do this, wouldn’t he? He’d know! And you do!” you squeaked, your eyes starting to well up. This was partially true, the only other person who ever acted like this was Jolie, but lately she had been so different from her usual self… you couldn’t help but feel you were pulling apart. Yet, you felt closer to Stockill than ever.
Sure he could be scary, and he wasn’t this kind with the rest of the inmates… he had a horrible reputation, but now you were starting to think it was more a misunderstanding than anything. After all to be a doctor and to be a director of an asylum you had to be extremely firm. To anyone in a frail mental state that could be seen as extremely mean or even cruel… but now that you knew him like this all you saw was a misunderstood man with a jealousy streak that needed to be controlled.
He was still looking at you, as if confused by your words and you were ready to continue arguing when he picked you up in his arms and tossed you in the bed.
“Montmorency!” you squeaked as you bounced and looked on as he started to pull his pin and cravat off, unbuttoning his waist coat and pulling it and his shirt off. “Mont-Montmorency what are you-?”
“Shut up and lay down…” he growled, unbuckling his belt. “Put your hands above your head...”
You did as instructed and he used his belt to fasten your wrists to the header’s vines tightly but making sure you weren’t hurting.
“Sir…” you whined softly. “Please… what’s wrong, did I-did I say something wrong…?”
“No…” he growled again as he ripped the night gown down cleaning down the front and lifted your legs, shimming himself out of his pants. “You actually did the opposite…”
“I-Wha-Montmorency!” you gasped as you looked up at him.
“Relax…” he said as he positioned himself, drinking in your nudity. “Soon you will be completely mine…”
At this words you blushed brightly and he pushed against you. The moment he did you muffled a whimper as you felt him entering you. It was a mix of pain and pleasure like you had never felt before and it made you clench, amplifying the pain for a moment.
“Oh-Gods, please! Stop, please!” you whimpered, digging your heels to push yourself away, but you felt his cravat winding around your eyes and his soft voice on your ear, his breath caressing your skin as he spoke you through it, his hands caressing all over your body.
“Breath, pet, slowly in, slowly out through your mouth. Again… deeply and slowly… Now relax your body… There we go, see? It will hurt for a bit, but it will hurt more if you do not relax and let me do it… There we go, good pet. In slowly, out through the mouth. Slowly! Yes… See, and now you’re feeling the pleasure! Good, there… Oh, you liked that?” he said, chuckling after a moment when his fingers caressed your nipples. He gently took one and pinched it softly, eliciting a soft moan from you. “Yes, you do… Good job, little one, again…”
He continued to play with your nipple till you were a puddle of moan and whimpers, the pain long forgotten. As he saw you melt on the mattress he continued to push into you, making you moan again, gripping at his belt and the cold vines of the header. You curled your fingers, opening your legs more to welcome him further in, making him chuckle appreciatively again.
“Good, pet,” he growled into your ear as he set a deep and slow rhythm, still pushing into you. “You’re so warm and wet…”
His words made you squirm and whimper again, panting as you felt his hips coming closer to yours.
“Sir, please… so much…” you moaned, lips parted as you panted again. He kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue inside your mouth instead of answering and your mind went blank, your hips pushing up on their own, your legs wrapping around his waist.
He hummed and quickened his pace as your legs wrapped around him, making you break the kiss to moan loudly. He grabbed you by the hips and finally pushed one more time, entering you completely, making you scream out his name as you clenched around him. He, however didn’t let you adjust, instead he upped the pace even more, grunting and growling as he thrust into you, digging his fingers in your skin.
“Look at you, look at you taking me! Now I know you were truthful, pet… Look at how well you’re opening up for me, see? So perfect…” he moaned against your throat as he bit the base of it. “You’re mine, pet, only mine! Nobody else can have you!”
You whined and whimpered again, pulling against the belt binding you as you felt him inside you. Your brain tried to rationalize what was happening but your body wasn’t letting it, it felt just too good to try and question the ethical implications of it all.
Suddenly he pulled out of you, unhooked the belt and turned you on your stomach, making up raise your ass up.
“Further up, further!” he growled, smacking your ass once. “Good job…”
You gasped at the smack, but you felt your nipples harden and it confused you a bit, but then when he spread you your mind left again, your voice cracking as he pushed back inside of you, your entrance way more accustomed to his size now. So much so that this time it was way more pleasurable, the pressure you felt as he entered making you mewl softly.
He hooked the belt back on the header, making you hang a bit above the mattress and started to pound on you without further ado, grasping you by the hips.
“M-Montmorency! Oh Gods, please! I’m going to break, s-slow-slow down, please!” you gasped, tears starting to stream down your cheeks as he continued, even upping the pace more. “N-No more, please!”
“Be a good pet and shut up! I know you can take it, you’ve been taking it beautifully, you can take this also,” he said, biting your shoulder as he leaned over your back, reaching under you to pinch your nipples again.
You yelped, but then melted into a moan at his words, your mind whirling in confusion as you felt yourself close to the edge again. He was right, you were taking it well, but this felt different. Every time he upped the pace your frame felt like it would split in half and it scared you, but your body was swallowing the pleasure, it was molding itself around him, and you couldn’t stop it.
“This is all your fault, this is how hard I love you, pet! See how hard I am? I can’t help it, this just how much I love you! And I won’t let anyone else have you, I will mark you up so much that whenever anyone sees you they will know instantly that you are MINE!! This is the extension of my love for you!!”
He was right, somehow. It did feel like an extension of all the sweet, loving things he had been doing before this. Even the room you were in. Was his love that big then, that he felt he needed to possess you this fully?? Was that the whole thing?? If it was so you wanted to look at him in the eyes. You needed to look at him and see that love in his eyes.
“I-I’m yours, sir, b-but please!! I want to see you!! I-I’m so close and all I want is to see you, please!!” you pleaded, moaning as he thrust harder into you.
“Alright then,” he grunted and pulled the cravat from over your eyes, turning your face painfully so you could see his own. “There we go, you can see my eyes, pet, now come for me!”
“N-No, Montomerncy, please I- OH GODS, MONTMORENCY!” you moaned loudly, voice cracking as he thrust into you one final time and made you orgasm again, this time it was even harder than when he had eaten you out on the rug as you felt him fill you to the brim.
Tears rolled down your face as you whined and moaned his name again, clenching around him as you came a second time, a first one not being enough. He kissed down your back and pulled out without letting you relax, making you whimper and unhooked you again, your body lumping down on the mattress.
He grabbed you and turned you unceremoniously. He made you wrap your legs around him and fell back, bringing you with him to lay on top of him, then without warning he re-entered you, keeping you in place by your hips.
“Fuck…” he moaned and it took you aback. He never swore, not even when angry… but you guessed at this time he could care less. You felt him go hard inside of you again and it made you gasped, your voice broken from your previous scream.
“I can’t feel my legs…” you whispered through chapped lips, but he wasn’t listening. You could barely focus on his face as he started to bob you up and down on top of him, your bound hands on his chest. “Montmorency…”
“Rency…” he grunted, pushing hair off your face.
“Wha-?” you murmured, panting softly.
“Call me Rency, my name is too long for you to be saying it in full all the time…” he growled, frowning a bit.
“Y-Yes sir… thank you… sir…” you panted softly, still bobbing up and down, smiling a bit as you saw his frown relaxing. “Sir…?”
“Yes, pet,” he said, going back to his usual soft tone, punctuated by sighs and grunts.
“Did you really know I liked fairy tales…?” you asked unconsciously.
“Almost everyone I’ve known likes them, I did not think you’d be the exception; but in truth I made up your room the way I did because I noticed you like nature. You tend to that ridiculous patch of dandelions when you’re outside. Dandelions are a weed, pet…” he said, thrusting his hips up and caressing your cheek.
You gasped, but shook your head, making yourself dizzy. “They are flowers, sir… bees love them…” you moaned softly, trying to adjust your legs, but being unsuccessful.
“Ah, I see… Well, that is why I did-did what I did, clench harder, yes, just like that…” he growled, going around and squeezing your ass.
“I… I do like nature… thank you, sir...” you moaned, then looked at him. “You can… go-go… go a bit slower… if you want…” you moaned softly, caressing his chest.
“But I do not…” he grunted, smiling coldly as he upped the pace, making you whine again, digging his fingers on your hips to make a point. “And you will do what I want, right, pet…?”
“Y-Yes sir…” you whined, panting and gasping as he thrust into you. “I will…”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
You didn’t know how long it had been when you came for the final time and he finally dropped you back on the bed, a bruised and sweaty sticky mess, out of breath and completely out of energy. He unbound your now numb hands and gently kissed your bruised wrists, shaking them to bring circulation back into them. You were barely breathing and didn’t react to this, simply laying on your side, your body aching so bad you didn’t feel anything.
“That was quite something, pet. You were quite something…” he whispered into your ear as he laid next to you.
“Mhh…” you were able to say as he pushed hair off your face.
“That’s right, pet… now lets get you all cleaned up, you will need your rest as tomorrow you will do something for me…” he said, turning your face and kissing you deeply before picking you up and walking you out of your room.
In your almost feverish state you noticed he moved a wall panel and walked right into his own room, entering his bathroom afterwards. Once inside the cold tiled room, however, you lost consciousness, unable to grasp onto the last little bits of energy you had left. The last thing you remembered was him lowering you into the tub and hearing the water running. A bath sounded so nice… sleep sounded so nice… And you drifted off into oblivion.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
As he finished bathing you, Stockill smiled as he dried you and settled you in your now fresh bed. The maids were quick and asked no questions, they knew better. So long as he continued to provide them with cheap sherry and cheap sweets masquerading as expensive fare they would keep quiet. He’d change them next month of course and send them on their merry way under threat of murder if they spoke about anything they saw here. He couldn’t chance it, you needed to be completely isolated now that he had re-potted you. This place was to be your haven, the only place you would be able to feel at home; he had to make sure you weren’t able to trust in anyone again but him. He had a long journey to go, it seemed, but you were well worth it. He had finally found the one and only that would never leave him, a very rare little flower, and he intended on keeping you to himself. Hopefully what he intended for tomorrow to happen would solidify this… He was quite sure you’d react the way he wanted you to, especially after tonight.
He finished buttoning your new nightgown on and placed a small soft toy between your arms before climbing into your bed, holding you close. It was important you saw his face first thing in the morning, as that would help the bond you had created today coalesce… It was like finishing touch of the re-potting so to speak. Everything would go smoothly after, he was sure of it...
I'm putting the finishing touches to the next chapter. If you see em dashes, please don't think I'm using chatgpt to write this. My editor said they look better than using ellipses for everything, so I'm using a mix of both depending on the pause. Says it will help the reading flow.
If you still have suspicions, you can scan my writings with an ai detector like this one!
Just thought I had to put this warning here... I've been seeing a lot of writers get accused of using AI for their fanfiction. AND WHILE I KNOW MY FOLLOWERS BELIEVE ME, I don't want to be targeted by people who don't follow me.
Thank you so much for your support and your believing in me and everything that means. I appreciate you so much it hurts!
I'm struggling, but I'm taking it one day at a time. I can finally sleep at night, which is a plus!
Living with the parents is proving very difficult after five years of freedom, but eh... one does what one can.
My country is mostly on standby, tbh. There's still violence but it's mellowed a tiny bit, yet with the US threatening us with invasion again and our president rejecting their "help" with our violence problem... It's just a complete mess. I just hope she keeps on strong because we won't fare well if we are invaded... That keeps me up sometimes, but melatonin and lavender tea are my friends!
Thank you so much for your concern, it's very touching. ;____;!!!
I promise I'll get back to typing as soon as my economic situation evens out, probably on April! Right now I need to focus on paid work and saving as much as I can. I have two chapters drafted, just need to smooth the wrinkles and get to typing; and wake up my editor.... I have atrocious spelling and I need her, hehe.
Please have the nicest day possible and remember to be kind to yourself!
I’m sorry about my extended hiatus. I didn’t plan it, but my life was uprooted in 15 days and we had to pack 5 years of our life and bring them back to my parents’ house… and then my country went up in flames a couple days ago… whoever said “2026 surprise me!” Needs to be swatted with a willow branch…
In which you're presented with a dilemma... will you risk not just your livelihood but also your friends' or will you take the offer the spider is giving you...? Is it even a real choice when both the options are equally horrific...?
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Fem presenting gender neutral reader x Dr. Stockill
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TW: stalking, psychological and emotional manipulation, infanitilzation of subordinate, JALAPEÑO LEVEL SPICINESS, NUDITY, betrayal, lies. (If there's more later I'll add them)
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Part 5.1:
Repotting...
“Where were you...?” Jolie’s voice said as you closed the door behind you. She was sitting in the mattress you shared, her riot of silvery hair falling about her, making her look like a fairy in all the hay. Both her questioning and her ethereal presence made you speechless and you closed your mouth, sighing. “I asked-”
”I know you did...” you said softly, finally answering.”I know you asked me where I was, I heard you the first time... I-I can’t tell you…”
You fidgeted with your hands, the violet pin hidden within them. Stockill had come back an hour later, finding you snuggled up in his bed, fast asleep, looking so peaceful... He spied your cravat against your cheek and the pin in your left hand, which rested on his pillow. He had picked you up in his arms and sat down against his cushions, rocking you gently and kissing you softly to wake you up.
“Hello, little one...” he whispered, caressing your cheek and kissing you again. “You liked that pin, hm?”
You blinked your eyes open at his kisses and voice, and groggily nodded, smiling sleepily, making him smile back. “It’s so pretty... I didn’t know you liked violets; they are so fragrant, and you-you like soft scents...” you whispered softly, stiffling a yawn.
“I... have a special place in my heart for violets, pet. It’s hard to explain but at one time they were important to my mother, so... I keep them close to keep her close in spirit when she’s not around. She likes to visit Aunt Augusta a lot, you see, and I’m quite used to having her presence around due to her duties in the asylum... As such, I keep a violet near by to remind me of her...” he whispered back, kissing your face softly, caressing your hair, the braid sloppy.
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder as you listened to him, admiring the pin with a sort of reverence, as if it was a very important artifact. He gently took it from you and pinned it to your shift, right above your heart, pressing it softly against you. His hand lingered there for a moment too long, making you shiver again, and then he leaned down to kiss you.
Slowly but surely you responded, and before long you picked up where you have left off as if Anthony hadn’t interrupted you. As you kissed one of his hands travelled to the hem of your shift and started to snake under it, caressing your thigh softly, making you mewl into the kiss, almost whimpering at his touch, craving more. You were better prepared this time and you gladly let him caress you, turning to straddle his legs yet again.
He chuckled, letting you move and pushing his other hand under your shift, caressing both your thighs, round them to cup your ass behind you, making you break the kiss involuntarily. You didn’t know what had happened, but your body reacted and your back arched gently as you gasped, gripping his shoulders. You had never been touched there, not like this, and all the built up energy in you finally found a bit of release in that solitary gesture…
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
“Hello...?” Jolie’s voice brought you back to the present, your cheeks hot as they had flushed as your memory wandered.
“Ah! S-sorry,” you said, fidgeting again, pressing the brooch to your chest. “I was at Stockill’s o-office, he wanted to try a new chemical and kept me all night under observation…”
Jolie frowned a bit. “I see no puncture…” she said softly, looking at your arms.
“Oh! No, yeah… Uhm, it was oral. A liquid, tasted so… bitter, like almonds?” you said, walking up to the silver haired woman and sitting down next to her.
“What’s that in your hand?” she asked, pointing at the pin, making you blush again.
“A c-cravat pin… I saw it on the table and I nicked it. I’ll probably get punished for it, but look at it. They’re violets, aren’t they adorable?” you said, finally relaxing and showing the little amethyst flowers to her. “They’re so delicate and quaint…”
Jolie tilted her head and took the pin, admiring it in the soft, autumnal sun rays. “Yes, it’s quite pretty. You shouldn’t have done that, darling. You could get all of us in trouble. I should tell Sir Edward to go put it back, alright?”
“No!” you said, suddenly snatching the pin from her soft hand and curling up around it, grabbing it so hard in your own hand you felt the edges of the crystals cut in your flesh. “I mean… please… I really like it, and he didn’t realize it was missing. He’s so rich he probably has a dime a dozen of these lying about… Please… If you hear someone talk about it then I will do as you say, but please Captain… let me keep it…”
Jolie raised and eyebrow at your reaction, cupping your cheek, but then sighing and nodding. “Fine… Just, don’t let anyone else see it, keep it safe, and-and… keep yourself safe, too…”
“Jolie? What’s wrong?” you said softly, pushing hair off her face and peering up at her. “Why are you crying…?”
Crystaline tears rolled down the pale cheeks as the woman covered her mouth, trying not to sob too loud so as not to wake the rest of them up. She shook her head, then took a deep steadying breath and looked at you with pained eyes.
“Tall Sarah… is gone…” she whispered, but then covered your mouth to prevent your horrified scream from leaving your lips. “Shh shh, don’t. It’s alright! She-she’s not dead! She’s gone from the ward, taken… I woke up at midnight to see where you were and she was missing as well, door wide opened. I don’t know how she did it, but she did it. I woke everyone up and was about to file them out when-when Anthony came hurriedly and told us that Tall Sarah had started a riot in Ward B. Apparently she had been filing her spoons to make sharp points and she distributed them amongst the people of Ward B. How she got the key nobody knows and the rats won’t say…”
She sniffled and took another deep breath, letting go of you and curling into your arms, holding onto you as she shuddered.
“They took her to quarantine and Anthony says she will probably end up in Ward B itself for what she did…” she sobbed softly, wetting the front of your fresh shift.
“And the others…? Ward B inmates, I mean…” you whispered, soothing her hair softly.
“They were beaten up and left without food, just water… Oh, darling, what is going to happen to everyone! I’m very sure the doctor will try and question all of us to see if we know anything. Did he mention anything while you were there??” she said, looking up at you with her striking blue eyes.
You swallowed hard and frowned as you shook your head. “H-He had to leave for a bit, but he came back an hour later to continue with his experiment, said nothing to me then…” you said, a black rock sinking your insides as you lied to your Captain, your beloved Captain, which whom you shared your darkest secrets.
It felt like the worst betrayal ever lying to her, but she had shown to you that she wouldn’t understand what was happening between Stockill and you. And yet, at the back of your head, that little voice kept saying she was right and to run away from this… Yet you couldn’t, how could you? He was so sweet and attentive and- you shook your head and kissed Jolie’s forehead softly, letting her go.
“You didn’t sleep at all, did you? Come, lay down, I’ll be here for you, Jolie. Go to sleep…” you said, sitting comfortably in the mattress and letting her lay her head on your lap. “It’s alright, I promise… I’ll keep watch.”
Jolie gave a shuddering sigh and nodded, laying her head on your legs, holding your hand gently in hers. “Thank you, darling… thank you…”
You smiled down at her and continued to caress her hair softly, humming for her. Your heart ached as it was torn in two directions, but you couldn’t help feeling how you felt… ‘the heart wants what the heart wants’ you heard one time… but was this really what your heart wanted…? You frowned as your memory wandered again, listening to Jolie’s soft snores as she finally fell asleep. Of course this was what your heart wanted, but your heart also wanted your friends safe… Maybe you could speak to Sto-Montmorency about this, intercede for Tall Sarah…? After all, the woman wasn’t all there, and even though this had required quite a bit of planning, starting a mutiny in Ward B was the worst idea ever… it just wasn’t a feesable plan. Yes, you would frame it like that… let the doctor realise she never meant any real harm… yes…
Your mind continued to wander, your heart beating a bit faster as your memories of last night overcame you again...
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
You had gasped again, shivering as you knelt down on his legs, panting softly, shaking like a leaf, flushed scarlet red, eyes glassy. What had happened...?
“Don’t tell me you-?” Stockill said softly, cocking an eyebrow and cupping your cheek. “Pet, can you hear me...? Did you... climax?”
Your head shot up to look at him so fast you almost fainted, but you shook it emphatically and covered your face. “I-I didn’t! I’m so confused, I know how it feels and this wasn’t it! I just... it felt so good... I’m not sure what happened, I’m sorry, Montmorency, I-!” you said fast, so fast it came out as more squeaks than words, but Stockill took your hands and uncovered your face to kiss you deeply, pinning your hands above your head and kneeling up, making you fall against the mattress again.
You gasped into the kiss and then moaned as his leg found you again. You pressed against him and he smiled as he broke the kiss, wanting to see your face.
“Oh...?” he whispered softly, looking down at his leg and then up at you. “Needy...?”
“M-Montmorency!!” you gasped, blushing again, pouting at his chuckles. “It’s not funny!”
“I apologise, seeing you squirm is a bit funny, and adorable... I want to eat you... But not today, my Pet. It’s late, and I have work tomorrow. Let’s sleep, you can go back to your cell early tomorrow...” he said, gently pulling his knee again and kissing your pout. “No pouting, little one, you have to behave or I will punish you... severely...”
You shuddered at the way he pronounced the last word. It felt chilly, but you were sure he was just playing, he’d never hurt you right...? But, yes, sleep sounded nice, even if the other option was nicer.
Rubbing your eyes, you stood up so he could fix his now messy bed and change into his pyjamas, which surprised you as they were a pair of pants and a buttoned up shirt, both made of soft high quality flannel with dark blue pin stripes down both pieces. On the breast pocket was his monogram, which now you recognised as it was the same as your little silver case. He pulled on his house robe and slipped plush slippers on his feet, then turned to you, his disheveled hair making him look so attractive in the light of the hearth’s fire.
“Here, wear this little one... that shift needs washing, I’ll have a fresh one for you tomorrow... take your stockings off as well...” he ordered, albeit in a soft way, as he gave you a nightgown.
You recognised it as probably his and blushed, but nodded. Turning, you unbuttoned your shift and slowly pulled it up and off your body, neatly folding it and putting it on a chair. Covering up with your arms, you turned to get the nightgown, but he pulled it again and wagged a long index before you.
”Do not cover yourself up in front of me. I forbid it...” he said, brows knitted. “You are mine and I have a right to everything about you, remember...?”
He almost purred the last words, but there was an edge to them, as if “no” wasn’t an acceptable answer... ever. You swallowed but nodded, dropping your arms to your sides, making his brows relax.
“Good pet...” he said, walking up to you. He reached his long, cold fingers towards you and touched your collarbones again, gently tracing them. He then let them gently fall towards your chest, continuing to trace your skin, making you bite your lower lip, rubbing your index and thumb together anxiously. “So smooth…”
His words made you blush as much as his touch and you cleared your throat. “M-Montmorency... it’s cold...” you whispered, shivering a bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, but if he continued to survey you you thought you would finally pass out from all the blushing and anxiety and excitement... and a smidgen of fear.
He blinked, his fingers very close to your nipple, and he nodded. “Of course...” he said, a slight annoyance in his voice as he handed you the nightgown. “Here, let me do it...”
He helped you put it on, then buttoned it up to your collarbones, leaving them bare, as well as your neck, making one of the shoulders fall to the side, revealing a bit more skin. “Perfect,” he said, softly pulling you close. “Let’s sleep...”
You nodded, letting out a soft sigh of both of relief and disappointment. Why were you so goddamned scared of his advances?! You loved him, didn’t you?! Then why-?!
“Pet?” you heard him far away from you, noticing he was already sitting in bed. Hurriedly you walked up to him and were pulled towards his chest as he laid back, covering both of you in warm blankets. “Alright... I hope you have a nice sleep, little one... Till tomorrow...”
“T-till tomorrow,” you answered back, snuggling into his arms, your head on his chest as he held you close.
Warm and safe… you had never slept this good in all your years in the asylum… and maybe even before that. You felt cozy and comfortable there in the doctor’s bed, tucked in his arms… what would possibly go wrong…?
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
“She’s still in quarantine, gentle people,” Sir Edward said, Basil nodding. “We took her a blanket and an old shift sand made sure she got the food you sent her… We will make it so that she receives hay little by little to have a more comfortable bed down there as well… She’s in solitary confinement, isolated from the other inmates in quarantine… Poor thing.”
You opened your eyes and sat up slowly, rubbing them. The Fall sun was fully in your cell, streaming through the bars. The wall was nice for keeping the wind out, but the sun streamed in a bit less than before… Oh well, sacrifices, you thought.
Jolie was next to you, toying with your silver case and looked around at you as she felt you move.
“So much for keeping watch, darling,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s quite alright, we were hugging when I woke up so you are forgiven...”
You giggled softly and hugged her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder, looking at the rats “Are you talking about Tall Sarah?”
Basil nodded again and sneezed into a small kerchief Valentine had made for him. You reached down and let the rat sit on your hand, bringing him up for a kiss on his little head.
“Come here to stay warm, dearie. The heater is on, but I know you’re dreadful cold all the time…” you said softly, holding him close. “Thank you so much for helping Tall Sarah out… I’m sure we could ration our food to help keep a steady flow to her, poor darling will need it…”
Basil nodded and looked at Sir Edward, who nodded as well. “That seems like an excellent plan, my child,” he said, giving you what you could only describe as a smile. “You stay there, Basil, I will go give new instructions to the scouting group and oversee another mission. Stay safe, my children…”
The huge rat bowed at them and scurried away towards the wall, jumping and climbing out of the window’s bars.
You chuckled at how adorable he looked and gently tucked Basil in his little pillow case that you made with your old blanket, pitching a sort of tent for him, with half a cookie you found in your mattress. “Have some rest, my valiant rattie…”
He squeaked happily and started to nibble his cookie, yawning from time to time till he fell over snoring, making you muffle a soft laugh.
“Well, someone sleeps like a rock,” Jolie whispered, resting her head on yours. “Darling…?” she added after a moment.
You looked up with a “hm?” and blinked innocently at her.
“Did you really go to get experimented on…? Please, tell me the truth, you just looked so… flustered, yes, yes just like right now! What’s making you blush so??” she said, holding your shoulders in her hands.
“Jolie, it hurts,” you whined softly, trying to get away from her. “Please!”
But she didn’t let go, shaking you a little. “You’re not going to his quarters are you?? Please, darling, please tell me you aren’t! Is he using you??”
“So just because I’m an inmate all he will do is use me?!” you snapped at her, finally annoyed at her antics and her words. But just as your own fell out of your lips you gasped and covered your mouth. “Oh, Jolie, I’m so sorry. I just-you were so forceful, and I got scared-!”
The silver haired woman looked at you, gently releasing your shoulders and frowned, her brows knitted above her blue eyes, flashing with both anguish and anger.
“You are in love with him aren’t you?” she accused through gritted teeth, her accent more prominent. “Are you not??”
Her voice was demanding an answer you couldn’t give, not to her… she wouldn’t understand… your heart ached as you looked down at your hands, resolution setting in your heart. If she was going to pressure your likes this she didn’t deserve the truth anyway! How dare she treat your like this when you had a shot at happiness in this hellish place?? So what if it was Stockill?? It’s not like anyone else but him and her had shown you any kindness, and inmates being kind to each other was a tenet from the Society anyways! So it didn’t really count. Showing your anger yourself, you stood up, looking down at her.
“How dare you speak to me like this and accuse me of such things?? If you’re going to treat me this way… I think it’s best if we sleep separate. It’s almost time for our daily outside time, once we’re back I don’t want you on my mattress…” you said icily, turning on your heel. “Take your blanket as well, I don’t need it…”
A sepulchral silence permeated the cell as you walked away from Jolie, wrapping your shawl around and fixing your slippers, standing by the door to wait for Anthony to let you out. The woman looked as you left her side, tears starting to roll down her cheek, all her own anger gone the second you showed yours. She just nodded, stood up, took her blanket gently so as not to disturb Basil, and walked slowly towards her own mattress, unused since the cold had gotten worse.
You didn’t dare look around, afraid your resolution would break if you saw Jolie’s face, but your heart was aching so bad you thought you would keel over from pain. You hated fighting in the cell, but you specially hated fighting with Jolie. She was your piece of paradise in that hellscape, the only one you could trust. But it seemed that the closer you got to Stockill, the less you could trust Jolie’s judgment… and you didn’t like that. Yet, she had to respect your autonomy, you were a grown person and you knew what you were doing… right? So why even bother you like this?? Maybe she was jealous! No, no, that couldn’t be. She had never shown you anything but filial affections, acting your elder sister as you two traversed this place trying to survive it. No, it had to be something else. Maybe her intuition wasn’t as flawless as everyone of you thought it was, maybe she read Stockill wrong because of how guarded he was. After all, each and every appointment all of you had ever had with him was private, no other inmate nor warden, nor chaser or maid for that matter, was ever present during these… So why should you believe it when they said he was horrible? Sure, medical procedures were horrible, but that wasn’t on the man, that was on the science! He had given you the creeps at first, but now? Your heart fluttered at the mere thought of him… Surely that could count for something??
Anthony opened the door and gasped seeing you standing there, making you giggle. “I’m sorry, Tony, I didn’t mean to spook you…”
“No need to apologise, it’s alrigh’… If you could please stay there while I let Maudsley guide the others outside, I have a message for you…” he said, frowning a bit.
You frowned as well, but pressed against the cell’s papered wall as you gave space for the others to walk out, ignoring Jolie as she walked by you, looking at you with red eyes. As they all left behind Maudsley, with a maid closing the line, Anthony turned to you and closed the door behind you, making you take a step back.
“No, no, I won’t ‘urt you, I promise!” he said instantly, raising his hands. “I do-I do need to warn you, dear, that this… thing you’re doing, it’s only gonna end up in tears…”
You blinked. Oh no, not him as well. “Tony, please, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you said defensively, turning away from him. But suddenly you felt a pair of arms around you, holding you close and gently.
It was strange, this embrace was different from Stockill’s. Where the doctor’s was almost ironclad in all it’s gentleness, rendering you unable to squirm or move even a bit, Tony’s was soft giving you leeway to move about with ease, as if he only wanted to protect you and not make you stay in place. It was almost childish, but at the same time full of protection and… love? What-?
“Tony, please, look at me,” you said after the initial shock had worn off and you turned in his arms to look at him. “I’m perfectly safe and capable of protecting myself! See? I’m unscathed! I really don’t see what any of you mean. Sure, at first I was unsure, but… Tony, he’s so sweet. He never pressures me into anything, he’s always trying to keep me safe-”
“’E made me put Tall Sarah in quarantine…” he said, resting his forehead on yours, looking eternally sad. “I can’t-I can’t support your decisions, not like this, ‘e is a bad man…”
You sighed, a bit exasperated. “You had to because that’s your job, Anthony… But also, Tall Sarah made a foolish decision. I will talk to him about it, though, I promise! She deserves to be pardoned, the poor darling…”
“Oh, you think you ‘ave the power to change ‘is mind?? Dear, you’re an inmate that he here ‘ere in this cell for ‘is amusement, a little rat in ‘is maze… Please, dear, stop this-this lunacy, and- No, no! Please, no! I didn’t mean it that way! Please dear, ‘ear me out, please!”
You frowned angrily at him and squirmed to try and get out of his embrace. Lunacy?! It was bad enough everyone else in the staff called you crazy, but Anthony too?? That was too much! Snarling you tried to get away, but he pulled you close again and you both crashed onto the brick you all used to heat up your tea and toppled onto your mattress, Basil scurrying out his pillow case just in time.
“Tony!” you gasped, looking at him. “Are you alright?? Oh Gods, you’re heavy… Can you please-T-Tony, what-MM?!”
As suddenly as you had all crashed down, he pressed his lips to yours, cupping your cheek softly. And again you noticed the difference between this kiss and Stockill’s: the doctor’s were demanding, where as Anthony’s was giving without expecting… and this made your heart jump.
What possessed you? You’d never know, but you pulled him closer and kissed him back, just as gently, just as softly, just as chastely. When you had been all passion and fire last night, right now you were twelve years old again and giving your first kiss to your eternal crush.
And then you broke it just as suddenly as he had started it.
“Tony, please, get off of me… I-I can’t breath!” you whined, and he instantly stood up, fixing his hair and helping you up as well.
“I-I’m so sorry, dear! I don’t know what ‘appened, I just-” he started, his voice trailing off as his cheeks flushed. “Please forgive me…”
You took a couple of deep breaths and shook your head, gently taking his hand. “It’s alright, Tony! I-I don’t why I did that either! But it’s alright, I promise, I’m not mad at you… Do you think-do you think I could stay here? I’m very dizzy, and I’m afraid I’ll faint if I go outside…”
“Of course! Of course, yes, I’ll tell Madame Mournington you feel unwell, maybe she will give you a tonic f-for your dizzy spell. I-I need to go back to my duties, dear. S-See you ‘round?” he said, unsure, bashful, trying to be polite.
You nodded, but just as he turned to leave, he turned back and hugged you close, pecking you softly again. “I ‘ad to… Because I don’t think I’ll ever get to do it again… Please promise me you will be careful…”
“I will, Tony, I promise…” you said softly, caressing his cheek and receiving another kiss, this time on your forehead, before he let go of you carefully and trotted to the door, closing it behind him as he exited towards the hallway.
You flopped back down on to the mattress, Basil, walking up to you. You gently held him in your hand and looked at him.
“Oh Bas, w-what just happened?? what am I gonna do?!” you whispered to him, laying on your side and nuzzling his little face. “I’m such a whore…”
“You never asked them kisses,” Basil finally said, patting your hair gently. “You might have reciprocated them but that really means nothing. Sir Edward taught us that humans sometimes react merely on instinct. So if someone you deem attractive kisses you, you’re inclined to kiss them back! It’s like when a fellow rat bites me, I react and bite back, but that doesn’t mean I hate them, it’s just what sometimes happens. Especially if you are attracted to the people who kiss you…”
“Bas, I’m not- Oh…” you said, gasping. So that’s what attraction was?? Was that what you had felt for Tony all these years?? You had never had time to go beyond a childish crush, so you were so unsure of what was going on… It was so strange, to say the least! If only you could talk to Jolie about this, but you were sure she wouldn’t be able to understand this either…
Tear pricked at your eyes and you let them fall as you longed for a mother, or even a father… someone you could speak to about these things. You felt so lost in this abyss of emotions and new sensations… it was ridiculous and terrifying, all at once… and you both hated and loved the joyride… you were so messed up in the head…
o-o-o-o-o-o
Watching Anthony leave the cell, Stockill growled under his breath. His suspicions were correct, you weren’t safe there. No, that was it, that was the last drop in an already overflowing cup. He had to get you out of there as fast as possible, somewhere safe where only he could be around you, monitor, keep you away from any prying eyes and touching hands. You were his, and only his, and you were just too delicate of a flower to be left in that planter of weeds. No, he had to re-pot you right now, nothing else could be said on the matter...
And he had the perfect pot to plant you in, the perfect place to hide you in so only he could admire your beauty and help you grow…
By the time the others were back from their outside time there was no trace of you left behind: no hay, no slippers, no spoons, no little silver case nor amethyst violets, not even Basil was anywhere to be seen… only dust and crumbs on the space that once had been yours and tears welling in Jolie’s eyes as she horrifically watched the empty space your presence left…
In which you're presented with a dilemma... will you risk not just your livelihood but also your friends' or will you take the offer the spider is giving you...? Is it even a real choice when both the options are equally horrific...?
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Fem presenting gender neutral reader x Dr. Stockill
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TW: stalking, psychological and emotional manipulation, infanitilzation of subordinate, intimate touch, spicy. (If there's more later I'll add them)
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Part 4:
Fertilizing
It had been two weeks since last you were called to Stockill’s office... it had been two weeks since you last had seen him up close, felt his arms around you, his lips on your skin... You squirmed angrily in your hay matress and sighed, turning on your side, the Captain snoring softly next to you, keeping each other warm.
Nothing had changed in your cell, your hay was still changed every so soften, you got good food, too, and you woke up once to a brick wall with a barred window where the bars of your cell had been. The door was made of metal and had another small window with a little door that you could open from both the inside and the outside. The barred window was big enough that anyone could look inside, but there were curtains on it to keep privacy... but that was about the only big change there had been.
Sigh angrily you sat up, careful not to uncover Jolie, and touched your lips softly, your fingers traveling down your neck as you remembered Stockill’s kisses, his soft caresses, his minty breath on your skin, making you shiver. Then tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you muffled a small whimper. What was wrong? Was he bored of you?? Was he not interested anymore?? Did you do something wrong?!
As you were debating your own thought, trying not to make any sound as you cried silently in your matress, a shadowy figure stood outside of your cell’s window, his spider-like fingers poking through the bars and lifting the curtain’s corner to take a peek inside. Stockill squinted a bit as his eyes adjusted to the soft candel glow that came from the sconces in your cell walls, and finally made your figure out. He smiled a bit as he saw you crying into your new blanket, his plan running as smoothly as he ran his institution. Gently, he cleared is throat and tapped the bar to get your attention.
Immediately you looked up, recognising the soft “ehem...” as the good doctor’s. Hastily rubbing your eyes, you took a shawl he had sent you the day before, wrapped it around your shoulders, and hurried to the window, pulling the curtain back and squeezing yourself between it and the iron and bricks so the full moon’s light didn’t stream inside.
”Mon-Doctor??” you whispered, peeking behind the curtain to make sure evreryone was asleep. “Is that you...?”
Slowly, Stockill walked into the moonlight, a soft smile on his face, the type of smile he gave to only you.
“Hello, little one...” he whispered back, his fingers gently caressing your cold cheek. “You’re freezing, is the cell cold?”
“The heater went out a few hours ago but Anthony is already asleep, so there was nobody to tell...” you whispered back, trying to repress a shiver. “But we’re okay, we’re all sharing beds to keep warm...”
The doctor frowned softly and cupped your cheek. “I’ll send someone up to fix that... But in the meantime you need to keep warm. Let me get you out of here...”
He let go of you and went to open the door, being as quiet as he could. You moved to the door, slipping your slippers on, giddy with anticipation.As he opened, you darted out into his arms without thinking, burying your face in his vest, your shawl flying off your shoulders.
”I’ve missed you...” you whimpered softly, holding onto him as if he would disappear at any moment.
Stockill chuckled softly and kissed your head, closing the door gently behind you, locking it with his skeleton key. “I’ve missed you, too, come... let’s get you warmed up...” he said, picking up the shawl and then yourself in his arms. “You really are shivering, aren’t you...?”
His black eyes darted to the cell’s window, but then they were trained on you, making your stomach create butterflies.
As you two made your way out of the ward, your head on his shoulder, you started to speak but then went silent, gently playing with a lock of his hair as you looked at the gaslights in sconces on the hallways’ walls pass by.
Suddenly you looked up, looking around and then at the doctor. “We’re going up...” you whispered, confused.
“Yes, we are...” he said, smiling at you and kissing your nose.
You blushed hard, but nodded, looking around at the new surroudings. You have never been on this part of the asylum, the upper floors were out of bounds for you and your fellow inmates as they were the doctors’ and Madame Mournington’s quarters. Not even the chasers and wardens were able to go up to the third and fourth floors, only the maids had permission because it was part of their duties to clean the living quarters.
...Wait, the living quarters! Was he taking you to his room?! Your cheeks went scarlet red and you swooned a bit from the sudden rush of blood and adrenaline.
“Ah, you finally understood...” the good doctor whispered with a soft chuckle, stopping at a door on a hallway that was in turn opened to the outside, flowering ivy growing out of pots and creeping up the columns of the veranda-like hallway. You realized this was a place that opened to the courtyard, you were right above the doctor’s office and that you had seen the flowers when you looked up at Stockill’s big office window...
Gently he pressed you against him with one arm as he opened his door and stepped inside, gently pushing the door back closed with a foot, a soft click indicating it selfbolted. Then he gently set you down on a door mat.
“Slippers off...” he said, as he kicked his shoes off and turned the gaslights on, revealing a sober yet elegant bedroom. It had a wall covered in bookcases and curiosities behind the glass doors, a big curtained window on the other, the third wall had a four poster bed with a deep red canopy, so dark it looked black but the light of the gaslights brought out the red hue on the heavy fabric.
Your stockinged feet walked on soft persian rugs as you looked around at his personal items: his water basin and mirror, his combs, a book opened on the oak desk right in front of the big window, notes next to it...
“Do you like my room...?” Stockill’s voice travelled towards you from a soft chair next to the lit chimney in between the bookcases. He was sitting on it, unbuttoning his starched collar undear neath his cravat and sighing in relief. He unbuttoned his vest as well and then patted his knee, beckoning you closer.
Pushing hair off your face you made your way shyly towards him, biting your lower lip and taking his extended hand.
”Montomorency...?” you asked softly as he gently pulled to sit on his knee, holding your waist securely as he reached with his other hand to caress your cheek.
”Yes, my pet...?” he answered, smiling up at you from his comfortable seat.
“Thank you for showing me your bedroom... I know it’s very private for you...” you said, leaning into his touch, turning to kiss his palm softly, closing your eyes. “It means a lot to me...”
The doctor chuckled softly and pulled you closer, kissing your eyelids as you rests against him, sighing softly at the warmth enveloping you.
“Thank you for letting me show it to you...” he purred, his fingers gently combing through your hair. “Turn and give me your back, pet.”
You nodded, opening your eyes and smiling, giving him your back obediently. He ran his fingers through your hair again, the scent of hay and lavender wafting from it and making his heart beat a bit faster. He slowly started to braid your long tresses, keeping them comfortable and loose as he did so. You closed your eyes again, relaxing into his touch as his long fingers worked on braiding, almost like he was weaving.
Maybe it was your imagination, but you started to feel as if his fingers brushed against your back and then your waist a bit too much given what he was doing. But when they lingered a bit on the small of your back you knew it wasn’t your imagination and it wasn’t an accident, he was actually touching you.
Starving for him, you turned and straddled his leg, giving him very little time to tie your braid off. He looked at you a bit alarmed as you leaned foward, your hands on his chest as you inched closer.
“Pet...?” he asked, his voice quivering a bit. “What-?”
But you pressed your lips against his without much warning, cutting his words short as you started to kiss him. He gasped softly into the kiss, but rounded your waist and pulled you closer, lifting you to you straddled his hips, your knees resting at either side of them on the soft chair cushion. One of his hands travelled up to cup the back of your head, leaning you back a bit as he deepened the kiss, a firey passion he hadn’t shown you so far surfacing.
You moaned softly into the kiss, your own fingers pushing into his hair again, whimpering needly as he pressed you against his chest. You could feel both your heartbeats, that’s how close you were. He let go of your nape and both his hands travelled to your hips as you gently nipped at his bottom lip, he then pushed you down gently and you gasped, moaning a bit louder, blushing fiercely.
You broke the kiss a bit to breath, feeling light headed, panting softly. As you looked at him, though, you realized he was annoyed, frowning softly.
“Mont-Montmorency...?” you said softly, caressing his cheek.
It was as if you had set something in motion because the moment your cold fingers touched his hot skinhe stood up, making you wrap your legs around his waist with a yelp. He firmly gripped you bny your thighs and walked up to his bed, tossing you onto the soft matress, the cushions bouncing as you landed with a muffled squeak.
You propped yourself up on your elbows as you saw Stockill walk up to you, pulling his cravat and vest off as he made his way towards you. You thought you heard a small growl as he climbed onto the bed, gently pushing you down on it as he did so, his legs pushing your shift up a little as they brushed against you. Your heart was pounding so hard that you could hear it in your ears, your cheeks scarlet again. You pawed at his chest as he got closer, unsure if you were scared or excited... or both.
“Montmorency... please...” you whispered, your voice quivering as his had done a moment before. “W-What-?”
“Shhhh, my pet,” he said, caressing your lips softly. “Just... shhh...”
You nodded meekly and closed your eyes, your head comfortably resting against the matress. His hand went from your lips caressing down gently to your cheek, then down to your neck, rounding it gently and easily with his long fingers. You gasped softly, arching your back a little as he pushed a leg between yours. Trembling a little, you reached to touch his hand with your finger, then caressing up his arm covered with his shirt’s sleeve, gripping his forearm softly and looking up at him with big trusting eyes.
Stockill looked back at you and leaned down, kissing you again, releasing your neck and letting his hand travel down to your collarbones. He slowly lowered himself to be fully on top of you, his hair tickling the sides of your face as he continued to kiss you, his leg pushing further up, making you lift your own to round his hip, eliciting a soft moan from him, the first you have ever heard. This sent your heart into a frenzy, beating so hard you thought you were going to faint, deepening the kiss. The doctor gently pushed his tongue inside your mouth, pressing it against yours, and you couldn’t help but moan, eyes rolling back a bit as your eyelids fluttered shut. You held a handful of his shirt’s fabric in both hands, holding onto him for a balance you didn’t need, the world turning upside down as you continued the kiss, his knee right against you.
Sensing how you tensed he broke the kiss, not pulling fully away, and looking deeply into your eyes.
“What is it, pet...?” he said a bit hoarsely, his lips a bit swollen from all the kissing and your little bit before. “Is everything alright...?”
You weren’t sure if it was annoyance in his eyes, but you definitely could tell he was worried. That made your heart skip a bit... you were definitely falling for him hard and that scared you.
”I-uhm-I need to breath...” you said, quickly pushing out from underneath him and sitting with your back firmly against his headboard, hugging your legs.
His frown deepend. He had definitely messed up, gone too far or too quickly. His brain scarmbled to fix whatever he had done wrong, unable to accept his control over you slipping as you pulled what you guess was his pillow and pressed your face against it to try and not cry. Oh it was his pillow alright, the scent of his hair shampoo and the bayrum he used hit you like a sack of bricks, making your eyes tear up as your frame trembled and shivered.
“Pet, let me see your face...” he said, crawling to you, sitting cross legged before and trying to pry the pillow away from your face. “Pet... please...”
His voice sounded a bit desperate and that scared you more than your own doubts, you had never heard him sound like that. But you were frozen in place, unable to move, unable to speak, just too overwhelmed.
“Pet. Pet please!” he said, starting to sound as scared as you felt now. “Pet!”
Finally he pried the pillow away and cupped your face between his fingers, looking at you with wild eyes.
“Look at me, pet, look at me!” he ordered, his voice a bit high when he did so. “Look at me with those eyes of yours.”
You finally looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. It was so surreal, all you did was pull away and he suddenly lost control. His hair was disheveled in such a way that made him look younger than he was, even more attractive than you already saw him. His eyes were wide and frightened, his grip was gentle but you could feel he was controlling his strentgh undearneath it. He brushed the tears away and suddenly hugged you against him, pulling you into his lap and wrapping you in his arms safely.
“Never do that again, pet,” he said firmly, almost angrily. “Never pull away and hide from me ever again. Do you hear me? Answer me, pet, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Montmorency...” you finally said, a bit hoarse, a bit dazed, a lot less scared. You poked your head out from his arms and reached up to him, cupping his cheeks. “I won’t do it again, sir, I’m sorry...”
You felt his heart skip a beat at your words and his cheeks grow hot. Was he blushing?? He was pale enough that you could see any rush of blood under his skin, especially when he got hot, but this was different. This had been brought forth by you...
“Dr. Stockill, are you blushing...?” you said softly, a grin creeping up your lips as you realized what had done it. “Did you like being called sir...?”
Stockill cleared his throat and looked away, confirming your suspicions. He gently released you from his arms and put his hands over yours, pressing them to his cheeks and looked back at you.
“No one’s existence should be more important than me to you, and even though doctor is greater than sir... this instance is quite different, pet,” he said, his eyebrows knitted. “I am your master, you are my pet. It will stay as such, and nobody can take my place... You acknowledging so is... exhilarating...”
You smiled, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and you leaned up to kiss between his brows, giggling softly.
“Yes, sir,” you said, kissing his nose.
He pulled your hands so you would wrap your arms around his neck, wrapping his around your waist and pulled you close against him again, kissing your forehead.
“Good pet...” he whispered against your skin, kissing your forehead again. His fingers caressed your waist softly, gently pushing up one of your sides, then back down to your waist. “You wanted to tell me something before we got here... I heard you start speaking, but then you went quiet...”
You blinked, frowning a bit, your journey there feeling like a very very distant past. Then you squeaked and nodded, pouting up at him.
“Why did you stop calling me to your office??” you demanded, almost angry at him. “Do you have any idea how frustrated I’ve been?? I’ve missed you so much!”
Stockill cocked an eyebrow, looking at you quizzically, then laughed softly.
“You missed me, hm? Ah, your cheeks are flustered again, you do that quite a lot when we’re together. Ah, pet, I really wanted to call for you, but I’ve been dreadfully busy. Running this wretched place is no easy task, as I’m sure you know. We had quite a bit of problems for a second there, but they are fixed now, nothing to preoccupy your pretty little head with, though...” he said, soothing your now messy hair, smiling down at you. “Don’t pout, pet, I promise I missed you just as much...”
You sighed and relented, your anger swiftly melting away as he leaned back down and kissed you yet again, pushing hair off your face as he did so. He had missed you... he really had... maybe that’s why he hungered for you so badly, maybe that’s why his actions had been so sudden to the point they had scared you. It was a need for you that drove them, not anything else. Maybe you could-you could fall for him safely? Jolie had to be wrong about everything she told you. Him missing you was enough proof for you that you held his heart as much he held yours...
How fortunate to feel this needed... how fortunate that your feelings were reciprocrated, and in such a passionate fashion! You’d never know he has this fire in him, just by looking at him, his cold demeanour, his quiet ways... But he was passionate alright, he wanted you, he needed you... he possibly loved you...? No, it was too fast, too early. But this was the start of something good. At least you hoped so...
“Montmorency...” you whispered, caressing his cheek again. “Montmorency... kiss me, sir, please? W-we can lay down again if you’d like...”
His eyes flew open and looked at you, a smile gracing his soft lips.
“Of course, pet,” he said gently laying you back down, pushing soem cushions over the bed’s edge. “As you wish...”
Your heart fluttered at his words and you rounded his neck with your arms again, pulling him closer. This time he was careful about here he put his legs, but when you opened yours slightly, he took the opportunity to tangle his with them, pulling you closer as he started to kiss you slowly.
He kissed the corners of your mouth, your cheeks, even your nose, before full on kissing your lips, encouraging you to close your eyes, one hand on your back, the other on your waist.
You kissed him right back, caressing his shoulders and snaking a hand under the collar of his shirt, feeling him shiver as you touched his bare skin. He brought his hands to his shirt without breaking the kiss and slowly unbuttoned it for you, uncovering his chest but not quite taking it off, then undid your shift’s buttons as well, stopping for a moment to gauge your reaction before continuing.
Slowly, your hands pushed into his shirt, your fingers dinging a bit on his shoulders and back as you two continued to kiss, the kiss deepening and deepening, your tongues dancing together as you caressed each other. Your chest heaved as he pushed your shift down a bit to bare shoulders, finally breaking the kiss.
“N-no,” you pouted, whimpering softly, but your displeasure didn’t live long as he started to kiss down your lips to your jaw, then your neck, nipping softly at the base.
Without meaning to, you dug your fingernails in your shoulders, making him gasp as he started to kiss down to your exposed collarbones, nipping again and leaving a small kiss mark there. He continued to kiss your skin up to your shoulders, gripping you by the waist as he did so, pressing slightly against you, making you moan softly.
“Beautiful,” he growled against your skin, pressing against you again, relishing at your quickening pulse. “It’s alright to let your voice loose, pet... Nobody will hear you...”
It was your heart’s turn to skip a beat at his words as you let out another moan, a bit louder this time.
“Y-Yes, sir!” you moaned, one hand pulling on the hair at the back of his head gently, the other scratching his back a bit as he continued to kiss, making his way down to your chest.
Just then there was a knock on his door that made you jump and squeak in surprise, panting softly. He growled in annoyance against you and sighed, looking up from the edge of your shift.
“Yes?” he asked angrily, putting one of his infexes on your lips to quiet your chuckle. “What in the nine hells do you want? Do you know what time is it?!”
”Y-yes, doctor, I’m really sorry but... there’s a riot in ward B!” Anthony’s voice said nervously.
“What...?” Stockill said in the cool tone he used when he was really angry. He looked at you, his eyes two dark voids and you shook your head. “Wake every warden up, and make sure they are armed with batons. Wake the other doctors as well. I’ll be there shortly.”
He sat up, buttoning his shirt and then looked at you again as you sat up as well.
“Do you know anything about this?” he said cooly as he grabbed his vest and pulled it on, tossing the cravat at your feet. “Answer truthfully.”
“No,” you said immediately and honestly, shaking your head and taking the cravat, hugging it to your heart. “I swear I didn’t know anything.”
The doctor closed his eyes, sighed, and then opened them back up, nodding and smiling softly at you. “I believe you, pet. Stay here, you will be safer here. I will go supervise this. It’s probably a false alarm, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, alright...? See you soon... help yourself to anything you want, that cupboard over there has cookies I believe...”
He kissed you softly and then slipped off the bed, hurrying to put his shoes on and exit the bedroom... locking it fromt he outside as he said “Very well, show me where it’s happening...” his footsteps resonating on the floor as he followed Anthony.
You sighed once Stockill left and burying your face in his cravat, pulling away almost immediately as you felt something hard on it. Examining the silk cloth, you found a small brooch with violets made of amethyst on it. You smiled, unpinning it and looking at it. Where his penchant for violets had come from you didn’t know but you thought it was quaint, such a small fragrant flower being the favourite of such a stern, tall man. He didn’t use the fragrance, though, he preferred lavender and bayrum, lavender especially on you... but his did use the flowers on almost anything that had meaning to him... you wondered if he would ever give you something violets on it just for you...
Almost an hour had passed you felt sleep overpower you. You had fed the fire more wood to keep the room warm and cozy and after eating a few cookies and sugar plums you had found in the cupboard, you were curled up on his bed, wrapped in a blanket and hugging his pillow. You wondered if everything was alright, trying very hard not to get too anxious as Morpheus extended his dreamy arms to wrap you up. Slowly your eyelids fluttered shut as you thought of how nice it would be to be a normal person, live in the real world, and be able to be by the doctor’s side... walk with him through downtown, have picnics under a tree, sleep next to him... did rich people also sleep in the same bed...? Did the doctor qualify as rich...? Probably, he was the asylum’s director after all...
Slowly you drifted away into sleep, feeling safe and cozy under the blanket... confident Stockill would come back for you... He did make good on his words on warming you up, that was for sure...
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“Let this serve as reminder that nobody can do anything in this institution without me knowing about it. Take her into quarantine, and make sure she’s stripped of all her privileges while there... If she wants to act like an ungrateful fool she may do so there...” Stockill said cooly as he oversaw the quenching the the small riot that started on Ward B. “She should be grateful I am not place her in Ward B without giving her another chance...”
Maudsley pulled a woman by the arm and kept a firm grip on her as another chaser collared her and made her take off her slippers and shift, then the burly man pulled her by the collar to make her walk. As they passed a moonlit corridor, Tall Sarah could be seen naked, walking behind the chaser with her head down, defeated, her stockinged feet padding as they made their way down to the guts of the asylum.
The doctor took off his spectacles, rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Put the rest in shackles in their cells and make them fast for a few days, let them be cleansed from their-ah- how do you call them, Greavesly?”
“Impure thoughts and feelings,” the butcher said, blowing smoke into one of the inmate’s face with a hoarse chuckle.”They must cleanse for sure...”
Stockill nodded to the wardens and turned to leave, but then stopped and nodded to Anthony. “Did you fix the heater in ward A’s cell...?”
“Yes, doctor, I did...” the young warden said. “D-Do you have an inmate in your office, doctor? I just, I didn’t see-”
“That will be all,” Stockill interrupted him, looking at him with his eyes like voids.
Anthony cowered back and nodded with a feeble “yes, doctor” and turned towards the inmates, pushing them back into their cells with his baton, giving a chaser a collar as he did so.
The doctor watched him for a few seconds before he turned and started his way back to his living quarters. That young warden spelled nothing but trouble for him... he needed to keep him in check, he was too good at his job to lose him... but if he posed a threat he’d have to eliminate him... Nobody would come in between him and his pet, nobody... Especially now that you were definitely in his claws. The soil was prime, the seed was planted, and this little rendezvous of yours was taking root in such a way that he knew that no matter what he did now he'd the get the results he wanted. You were going to be his, no matter how many cadavers he had to leave in his path to get what he wanted, meaning you. After all, they could only fertilize the soil now...
I know grooming is usually used on kids, and MC isn't a kid. But it can also be used to describe a figure of authority manipulating a subordinate. In this Stockill has all the authority in the world over MC...
Also, there's the subject of the infantilization of MC. Stockill is older than MC, both are adults, but he's older. And he's very paternal with MC in many ways because he knows it's a sure way to manipulate someone as traumatised as one of the inmates in his asylum. Being kind, protective, almost parental because many of them lacked that figure and yearn for it... Would you say that's grooming as well?
I'm curious to know your thoughts!
My fic is dead dove do not eat for a reason, but I'd like some input from y'all, know where I'm standing at the moment.
thank you so so much for reading my shenanigans, it makes me smile and my shriveled little heart flutter.
I promise I'll have some fanart of my tafwvg's OC and Stockill for y'all soon!
In which you're presented with a dilemma... will you risk not just your livelihood but also your friends' or will you take the offer the spider is giving you...? Is it even a real choice when both the options are equally horrific...?
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Fem presenting gender neutral reader x Dr. Stockill
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TW: psychological and emotional manipulation, infanitilzation of subordinate, intimacy (making out and touching through clothes), mentions of physical abuse and punishment, victim blaming as part of manipulation, barely respecting boundaries. (If there's more later I'll add them)
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Part 3:
Watering
“What’s wrong with them...?” Joanna asked frowning as she knelt before you in your hay mattress, poking and prodding at you. “They look sick. They will be contagious and kill us all...”
You had been laying there for fifteen minutes now, turning the little silver case in your hand over and over, sighing from time to time. You looked at your bandaged hand once or twice, but didn’t do much else, still in a daze.
Jolie frowned as well, marched up to Joanna, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up, tossing her away from you.
“Leave them alone! You just want create drama!” she yelled at her angrily, then plopped down next to you and soothed your hair. “Did she hurt you? Darling? Can you hear me? What happened in the Stockill’s office...?”
Slowly you blinked and turned your luminous eyes towards her, refocusing and forcing yourself to come back to reality. She smiled, seeing as you slowly came back and helped you sit up, holding you close.
“Well...” you whispered, then looked at everyone and hid against her. “Uh...”
Jolie sighed and turned to everyone. “Can you give us some space, please?” she asked firmly and everyone scurried away to find something else to do. She turned back to you with a smile. “There... we have a bit more privacy...”
You nodded, took a deep breath and started to tell her what happened at the office. “And then he caught me in his arms...” you whispered, your voice shaking. “I-I didn’t know what to do, seeing him smile like that. S-so I had one those episodes where I scream and cry...? I couldn’t help myself, it was so... horrific, but at the same time it was calming? I’m not sure how to describe it. I cut my hand on the case, so when I finally calmed down he bandaged it for me... He was so... sweet about it, too... Oh Jolie, what’s wrong with me??”
The young woman bit her lower, frowning, deep in thought. He shook her silvery hair and rested her head on yours, taking a deep breath.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you... but are you sure this was Stockill? THE Stockill? He wouldn’t happen to have a twin somewhere hidden, right??” she whispered, caressing your braid. “It’s most peculiar... You say this ribbon is from his vest?? It’s so pretty...”
”Oh yes!” you said, a bit more happily than you though you’d say it. “It’s so soft and shiny... And look, he gave me the case, said I could find some use for the tools inside. They’re called lancets, they’re like fleams but more delicate. He apparently disapproves of Lymer using fleams in the bloodletting room... Said they were for cattle.”
You produced the case, gently popped it open and slid the lancets out of it, showing them to Jolie who took one and opened it, marveling at how delicate the things was.
“They are silver you say??” she said, putting it against the candle light to see it better.
“I-I’m not sure if the lancet itself is, but the case is! The handles are bones... And look it’s got his initials on it... M. S. Mo-uhm...” you said, starting to say his name out loud but then stopping and covering your mouth, blushing.
“Darling? What’s wrong??” Jolie said, caressing your cheek gently. “You’re feeling a bit warm, do you feel ill?”
”I-N-no, it’s fine, I’m fine!” you said, smiling softly and shaking your head.
“You were saying something before that, what was it? His name?” she asked, smiling back.
“Ah, yes... But he didn’t say what his first name was, though...” you said, looking down at the case and tracing the M.
You had lied to Jolie, you had lied to your Captain, to your best friend, to who you considered your soulmate... and what scared you the most was how easy you had done it, how easily the words had rolled down your tongue, spoken with a casual tone that unnerved you more than Stockill’s smile, even.
And the way Jolie nodded and shrugged, still examining the lancet, taking your lie as the bare truth... it broke something in you.
<<What am I doing...?>> you thought to yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But you couldn’t help it, he had told you not to speak his name outside of his office... or there might be consequences. And you didn’t want said consequences, especially when it came to him, because you know that there was a 50/50 chance they would be not be aimed at you but at one of your loved ones, in concrete Jolie herself. And you couldn’t have that happen to her, she shouldn’t be touched. She had already been through enough...
“Darling... Darling?” Jolie said for what seemed to be the fourth time. “Ah, there you are, I thought you had left me again! I was saying that they could be used to pick the cell door if you really wanted. I think Vee knows how.”
You blinked at her, then chuckled and nodded, the idea that Veronica of all people knew how to pick a lock causing hilarity in your mind.
“Vee?? Really??” you laughed softly, shaking your head.
“I swear! I picked the lock of my collar back in quarantine! I think one of her acts was her picking a lock to get herself out of a cage, I’m not sure if I remember it correctly,” Jolie said with one of her equally silvery laughs.
Just then there was a rattle on the cell door, and you all jumped to your feet, pressing against the walls as was now your custom. The door opened and Anthony came in with Cora, one of the newest maids. They were carrying two baskets and then wheeled in a cart, all of them laddened with food.
You all gasped but didn’t move as they set everything down, Anthony looking up.
“Breakfast, the asylum’s director sends it, with his regards...” he said, his voice sounding a bit more hollow than usual. He looked over at you and gave yo a soft smile. “Everything okay?”
You nodded, holding Jolie’s arm tightly in yours. You had never trusted neither the wardens nor the chasers, but Anthony had always felt different than the others. He never yelled, he was only rough when needed, and he always treated you all with respect, no matter what. In turn you didn’t make his life harder and obeyed him sincerely, knowing he wasn’t going to hurt you. Still, him being a warden gave him an authority you’d never be able to aspire to, being an inmate. You weren’t equals, that scared you a bit and thus, you never could fully relax around him.
After leaving everything, reminding them not to hoard food, he left, giving you a little wave before locking the door and gently pulling down the blanket from the outside.
As if a spell was broken, and after Sir Edward gave you the go, you moved towards the food in unison, like one single organism moving on it’s own. You opened one basket and started to pull out sandwiches, giving everyone one, and then when everyone had been accounted for, you gave them a second one, finding out there was quite more than enough again.
Meanwhile Jolie had opened the other basket and was giving then small meat pies, making sure everyone got their share. You got up sand examined the cart, finding teacups, little jugs of cream, lumps of sugar in little sugar bowls, cookies, little petit fours cakes, tiny glasses, and bottles of juice together with two big pots, one of coffee and one of tea, being kept warm by ingenious little lamps underneath.
Serving everyone their requests, you finally sat down with Jolie in your mattress and started to eat, frowning a bit.
“What is it darling?” Jolie asked, licking her fingers after eating a little vanilla cake.
“Do you think the others are being given the same treatment? I mean, they keep telling us not to hoard food, but it’s so much!” you said, giving Basil a bit of pie before biting into it.
“Yes, I’ve been wondering the same myself. Maybe after we’ve had our fill we can ask Anthony to give the others some of this? They never said not to share, only not to hoard, right?” Jolie said, smiling and nodding. “Everyone deserves to eat these, they’re so good!”
You giggled and nodded, dabbing Jolie’s nose with a bit of frosting from her own cake, making her laugh louder.
Several moments and several bites later, you all were full like you had never been before. Rubbing your belly, you slumped against Jolie and blinked at her lazily, feeling sleep trying to close your eyes.
“God, I’m so... full...” you murmured, stiffling a small burp. “Oh, I’m sorry... I’m just... that was so much...”
Jolie nodded, unable to speak, content like a cat.
“Oh, blimey. I think I won’t be eatin’ another bite o’ food a long time...” Veronica sighing, sprawled on her mattress, looking at Valentine upside down.
“Mhmm... It was just so good. I wonder who cooked all of this, it was marvelous, and the tea!” Emily said with a smile, laying on her tummy on her own mattress, reaching to caress Vee’s cheek.
The others were either still eating or too full to answer, but the general feeling int he cell was one of relaxed happiness and content, everyone looking so much better than they had in all their years there.
After a second, you stood up, grabbed onto the wall for balance, and slowly walked up to the bars, knocking a small rock on them. “Anthony?” you called softly, prying the blanket away a little to look around.
“Yes?” he said, swiftly appearing in your line of view and making you squeak. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. What can I do for you, dear?”
You blushed at the term of endearment, still not used to his gentle treatment. “I-WE were wondering if you could take the rest of the food to the other cells... There’s far too much for us alone, and I fear we might hoard out of anxiety if we kept it here a bit too long...” you said, blinking up at him.
The young warden regarded you for a moment, then smiled softly. “Of course...” he said, then nodded to you. “You know the drill...”
You nodded back and walked up to the wall, but when he saw the state of the others, he relaxed and chuckled. “What’s so funny?” you asked, walking behind him.
“Oh, nothin’. Just... you all look like chubby cats after a good meal, loungin’ about. Only thing you need is a ray of sunshine,” he said, helping you pack the rest of the food up. He paused, then gave you a cookie with a wink. “For lat’r...”
You blushed again, but smiled a bit and nodded, putting it in your shift’s pocket, then helped him with the baskets as he pushed the cart out. “Here you go. Thank you, Anthony, you’re being very kind... I-it’s not normal within the wardens to be this kind... It’s a bit bizarre,” you said, finally airing out your concerns.
The young warden laughed softly, his laughter sounding like a river to your ears, then nodded. “It’s true, most o’ the wardens and chasers are mean old bats... But I don’t see the point in that. You’re all already sufferin’ enough, no need to add to the pile. Alrigh’, off you go, dear. Go have a nap...” he said, winking again and locking the door, walking off with the baskets first.
You nodded, waved happily at him and then covered the door again, resting back on the bars. <<You’re all already sufferin’ enough, no need to add to the pile...>> His words echoed in your head as you finally walked back to your mattress, finding Jolie already fast asleep on it. You snuggled into her arms and sighed contently, burrowing your face in the crook of her neck, feeling her pull you close. If only all of this lasted forever...
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“Did you like the breakfast I sent, pet...?” Stockill’s voice wafted towards you from the window as you sat in his cot.
You had been summoned to his office by Madame Mournigton again a few hours after you had fallen asleep, safe in Jolie’s arms. The banging on the bars and Maudsley barking of your inmate number had rudely awoken you. Fixing your shift and your hair, you walked up to the bars and asked icily what was that he wanted.
“Careful with that tone, precious...” he had sneered at you, then rolled his eyes. “’avin’ clean clofes and a bit o’ food has made you insolent, innit?? I could teach you a lesson or two about comin’ down a peg... keep you ‘umble...”
He had reached through the bars and taken you by the waist, pulling you roughly towards him, just as you were pressed against the bars, the old lady’s voice echoed down the corridor:
“STOP THAT AT ONCE, YOU BRUTE!”
The chaser growled and pushed you away, making you stumble a bit and hug the wall for balance, your breath ragged, your cheeks flushed from the surprise and indignation.
“Awh, ma’am, but sees?? They likes it!” he laughed his old dog’s laugh, showing his rows of yellowed teeth. “Fine, fine. Step back, I’m openin’ the door!”
You did as instructed, still reeling from his actions, and Madame Mournington stepped inside, taking your elbow and walking out with you stiffly.
“My son has summoned you again... hurry,” she said simply, sternly as always, but with more curiosity in her voice than venom.
You nodded and followed her, trying to keep up with her brisk pace. Finally reaching the doctor’s office, she let go gently of you, raising an eyebrow just like you had seen Stockill do and pushed you inside, closing the door behind her.
“I asked,” Stockill’s voice brought you back to the present, your head snapping back at him so fast your neck popped. “If you liked the breakfast I had sent you this morning, pet...”
His cold fingers caressed your cheek as you looked up at him and nodded. It took all you had in yourself to not lean into his fingers... what was happening? Why did you yearn for his touch like this when previously you had avoided it at all costs??
<<He’s acting kind, darling... We humans respond to kindness. Do be careful...>> Jolie had said to you while you ate and chatted more about your first office trip. Yes, that was probably it. After years of neglect and abuse, any type of kindness was welcomed... but then why did you distrust Anthony so much but not the doctor...?
“I’m glad, pet. You do look with a bit more colour. I was instructed that you decided to share the rest of it with the other cells... I find that most, ah, endearing of you. Shows you have a good heart. Would you say you have a good heart in this chest of yours, pet...?” he said, sitting next to you and gently poking at the top of your chest, right under your collarbones.
This made you blush fiercely, squeaking a little as you did so. “I-I wouldn’t know about that doc-M-Montmorency... I just thought, since we shouldn’t hoard, you know? Maybe it shouldn’t be wasted either? They are just as hungry as we are in my cell...” you said softly, turning your eyes up at him again.
You two were so close you could count all of his long, dark lashes. Was that a beauty mark under his left eye...? You reached up to touch it absentmindedly, and your were surprised he let you. Gently your fingers cupped his left cheek and he actually leaned on you, his dark eyes fluttering shut. What was he doing...?
It was a moment before you realised he had rounded your waist with his hand and had left it there as you caressed his cheek, this tiny gesture of intimacy making you swoon a bit from how hard you were blushing. But then you noticed just that, you were blushing from... nervousness, shyness. You weren’t blushing from disgust and indignancy like you had when Maudsley had done the same. It was confusing to say the least.
“Mont-Montmorency...?” you started, but then you stopped and closed your mouth just as he opened his eyes and looked at you.
“Yes, pet?” he said, almost purred, raising an eyebrow. “Is something bothering you?”
You looked at him long and hard, then decided to go for it, what was the worst that could happen? If he was on a kindness streak then maybe you could use it for you and your friends’ benefit counsciously for once...
“Maudsley, when Madame Mournington summoned me for you...” you started. Was that a wince at his mother’s mention? No, you must’ve had imagined it, a trick fo the light. “He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against the bars. He was being, uhm, lewd about it. If it hadn’t been for Madame, I don’t know...”
Your voice trailed off and you started ro recoil, retrieving your hand from his face as it darkened, his eyes turning to black cold voids as you spoke, his grip on you tightening.
“Mon-Mon...Montmorency??” you squeaked, feeling panic starting to extend it’s toxic tendrils around you. “Montmorency?? Stockill! It hurts!”
Just as suddenly as he has shifted into this scary countenance, he shifted back, his grip loosening, his free hand quickly cupping your cheek. “Oh, pet, I apologise... I shouldn’t lose control like that, not with you!” he said softly, scrutinizing your face. “Please do forgive me, don’t be scared. I will not hurt you if you give me no reason, pet.”
His fingers gently massaged your waist as you nodded, relaxing slowly into his touch, finally giving in and leaning into his hand, making him smile softly. “I just... I thought I had angered you...” you whispered.
He chuckled, resting your head against his chest. “You? Anger me? Unless you ignore my orders you will never anger me, pet. No, it was that beastly creature that angered me. His treatment of you. Of course, you might’ve done something to invite such a reaction, but how can one blame you fully? You’re so innocent, so... disconnected frm your environment, and you’re so adorable. How can that be fully your fault?” he said softly, using his index finger to lift your chin up. “You must protect your virtue from now on, pet. Never look any one else in the eye like you’re looking at me right now, no warden, no chaser, no helper, no maid... Just me. Do not give any of those ungodly creatures any reason to offend you again. Can you do that for me, pet?”
You looked up at him, baffled. His words were sweet, but at the same time carried an edge that you couldn’t quite comprehend. Had it really been something you did? What did you do to deserve that treatment? Was it a tiny bit your fault? Your eyes watered, unable to help tearing up at the realization that maybe it had been partly your fault after all, had you not been so sassy when you talked to him...? But you had seen him do that to countless other inmates, regardless of their tone... then why-?
“Why are you crying pet?? Did he hurt you that bad??” Stockill asked, quickly dabbing at your eyes, gently drying up your tears. “You need to tell me at once, I’ll see to it that he’s punished!”
You shook your head gently and pressed your cheek against his hand. “I-I’m sorry for having fostered such a reaction in him... I-I didn’t mean to...” you whimpered, closing your eyes and burrowing your face in his hand, starting to sob. “I hate it when he touches me, having him near makes my skin crawl! I-I didn’t know it was my fault-!”
Stockill put one his long indexes on your lips and cupped your cheeks, making you look up. “Shhh, pet, of course you didn’t know. You’re a lamb in a wolves’ den, how could you know? Shhh, it’s alright, my wee lamb, it’s alright. I will protect you and your herd from the wolves and their advances. You just need obey me and I promise you will be safe. I will be your shepherd...” he whispered, his breath minty and cold against your hot skin. “What say you...?”
You were even closer now, you could see the softness of his lips, hear his quiet and measured breathing, and for some reason your heart skipped a beat. There was only one answer, one true, good, real answer. And your gave it to him without hesitation, as if you were drawn to it, as if you couldn’t say anything else.
“Yes, Montmorency...” you whispered softly.
Without warning, then, he pressed his lips against yours and kissed you gently at first. You squeaked into the motion, totally taken off guard, but your body reacted before your mind could and you kissed him back, holding onto the lapels of his waistcoat as he drew you nearer, a hand migrating to your waist again. You felt yourself being pressed against his body and got surprised at how dense he felt. Did he indulge in exercise? What was it called? Calisthenics? But he wasn’t uncomfortable, his arms were warm and gentle around you, a hand cupping the back of your head as you two kissed, your eyes fluttering shut.
His eyes didn’t close, though, no. They were trained on you, on your reactions, scrutinizing, calculating... He deepened the kiss and his eyes flashed satifactorily when you let out a soft sound, pressed against him, his hand firmly on the small of your back, feeling your warm skin underneath your shift. For once in his life he was... feeling. He didn’t know what it was, he couldn’t understand it, just as he couldn’t understand the fascination you ignited in him. But for once he didn’t recoil at someone’s touch that wasn’t his mother’s. In fact he relished your hands on his chest, that then travelled to his neck, your fingers getting tangled in his perfect hair now falling in locks to frame your face, the way your hearts pressed against one another now, yours pounding hard in your chest. Was this your first kiss? You were quite good at it for it to be your first, but then some people had a natural talent for these things as he had learned through his years as a doctor and asylum director.
As the kiss turned into a more heated situation you couldn’t help but moan softly against his lips, your fingers massaging his nape, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer gently. You wanted more, you had never felt like this and you wanted more now... his minty breath, his strong arms, his heart beat against yours, everything about this was so inviting. And then fear crept up and you gently broke the kiss, panting softly, cheeks so flushed they were almost crimson, eyes tearing up a bit.
“Pet...?” he whispered, frowning as you pulled away. “What-?”
“I’m dizzy,” you said before he could finish his question. “C-can we take a moment and breathe?”
“Of course, we can go at your pace...” he said pushing your hair off your face and caressing your cheek down to your chin. There was a hint of annoyance in his eyes, but then worry replaced it as he grabbed a clean rag and dabbed at your forehead and cheeks, then down at your neck, unbuttoning the shift’s collar. You closed your eyes again, relishing his touch, feeling better as you cooled down a bit.
Slowly, Stockill leaned down and kissed your cheek, making you smile, then proceeded to kiss down the path his fingers had taken, his soft lips leaving a trail of butterfly kisses on your hot skin. You tensed a little as he reached your jawline, but then his hand caressed your other cheek gently and you relaxed, gasping as he pressed his lips fully on your neck, right above your vein.
“Montmorency...?” you squeaked, unable to help yourself as you tilted your head. “I-It’s a bit too fast...”
He hummed against your neck but didn’t pull away, making you moan his name softly, feeling him smile against your skin.
“Are you sure, pet, your body is reacting differently to your words...?” he purred, his hand travelling down from your cheek to your shoulder then arm, then waist, gently making you lean back. “Your heart beat has increased, your musculus sternocleidomastoideus has extended in such a way that I have more access to your neck, your skin is flushed which is something you cannot control as your heart rate increases your circulation. And I can assure you that if you opened those delightful eyes of yours I would see your pupils quite dilated...”
You sighed softly at his words and actions, his skin shivering at his words. It was true, you were relishing every moment of this, but the voice at the back of your head was screaming “danger!” so loudly that you couldn’t ignore it.
“Please... I just, I’m not used to all of this... please, let’s take a break...” you begged softly, biting your lower lip.
With sigh and nodded, the doctor finally relented, helping you sit up straight, gently running his fingers through your hair as you fixed his as best you could. He was annoyed, there was no doubt about it now, but he was relenting, he was listening to you! And that was enough for your heart to leap joyfully.
“As you wish, my pet,” he said, a bit icily, but still caressing your face gently, his hand still resting on your waist warmly. “Look at you, was that your first kiss?”
You frowned, thinking, then nodded, then shrugged. “I had-had never been kissed like this before... they had all be rough and more like bites than kisses, but this was different, it felt... nice, right...” you whispered, feeling your pulse quicken again, making you tense up. If you didn’t get out of his arms you’d regret, you knew you would...
Sensing your reaction, Stockill gently pulled away, fixing his waistcoat and standing up. “I’ll just go get some water, do not worry, pet,” he swiftly said, catching your worried look.
He walked up to his desk and filled two glass cups from a glass jug on a silver tray then walked back towards you, sitting back down on the cot and giving you one glass. He gently touched yours with his and drank slowly, closing his eyes. Your eyes travelled to his neck, slightly visible behind his starched collar, and you blushed again as you saw his muscles move as he drank. He really was so different from the wardens and chasers, even from the other doctors...
A knock on the door pulled you out of your reverie with a squeak and you hit behind him, making him chuckle.
“Yes?” he said, a bit annoyed again.
Madame Mournignton opened the door gently and poked her white head inside, looking around. “Ah, there you are Monty! Oh, you are busy?” she said in her particularly bird-like tone.
“No, mother, it is quite alright, what can I do for you?” he said, his tone casual.
You didn’t know why, but his dismissal of you, of what had happened before and you felt was still happening before the knock pricked at you worse than a leech’s bite. Your eyes were casted down, looking into your water cup and your flush left your cheeks, replaced by an aching in your chest as you heard the Madame and Stockill chat a bit before she said:
”Then I shall wait for you in the tea room, Monty. Do come soon, my child,” before stepping back out and closing the door behind her.
“Ah, y-you’re leaving?” you squeaked quietly as he stood up and went to grab his coat.
“Well, yes, it’s four o’clock, tea time,” he said, taking the cup from you and helping you up. “Anthony shall escort you back to your cell, then.”
The casual, almost icy tone was back in his voice as he guided you towards the door. But strangely, his hand was gentle with yours, even squeezing it a little as you walked. And once at the door, he leaned down and deposited on single soft kiss on your forehead before doing “shhh” gesture with his finger and opening the door, letting you out into the hands of the young warden. You thought you saw a small smile on his lips as you were walked away and he locked his office with his key, and that was enough to make you blush again as you followed Anthony down the corridor.
“What did he do now...?” The young man asked, worry etched in his smooth face.
“Hm...? Oh, nothing...” you said, a bit too giddy as you remembered the gesture Stockill did before you walked out of his office, a place you now regarded as cozy, even magical.
You wondered what would happen next time you were summoned. Maybe... maybe you’d be more prepared now, better suited for whatever was to come... Yes, you couldn’t wait to be summoned again. Anthony looked at you but said nothing as he let you into your cell, sighing softly once the door was locked and the blanket was down. This spelled danger, and he didn’t like it one bit.
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“And make sure he understands his place in this institution, Calvin,” Stockill said coldly as he nodded to Maudsley, opening the door to the back patio of the asylum, the place where most of the strongest punishments were dished out. “I don’t want him spreading his depravity any more than he already has...”
Clavin nodded, grabbing the beast of a man by the wrist and fastening a manacle to it, the man bewildered by these actions.
“But sir-!!” he whined, yet fell silent as Stockill walked slowly up to him, a spider walking on it’s web up to a freshly trapped prey. “S-sir?”
The doctor took the man’s face between his left index and thumb and squeezed it painfully, making him look him dead in the eyes. “You are to never touch them again, do you hear me? If you do, if I find out that you did, if I see you doing it, I will personally your hand off and feed it to the pigs, you insolent mass of pestilence. Never, I hope you understand that word, you ape...” he hissed at Maudsely, his eyes wild.
The man cowared, whining and nodding, unable to recognise the starchy, stuck up, snobbish director of the asylum in this wild creature that was threatening him.
The doctor was satisfied with that reaction and let him go, nodding to Calvin before turning and leaving towards the tea room, wiping his hands on his handckerchief, tossing the thing aside like trash.
He had better things to direct his attention to now, like the memory of your soulful eyes looking back at him, your lips on his. He was irritated at your rejection, but he had to be careful. If you overwater a plant it can die quickly, same as if you let the soil dry too much for too long. He had to be as delicate with you as he was with his forumlas and concotions, one wrong move and disaster could be spelled in a cloud of poisonous gas... No, he had to be quite careful, he had to calculate his every step, he had to. For you were going to be his whether you wanted it or not, but he preferred it if you wanted it, if you le thim ensnare you in his powerful silk, slowly drawing you in till it was too late and you couldn’t escape. Yes... that’s what he wanted, that’s what he needed, to be more like a spider... to be slow but sure. Nothing could stop him now save maybe you, and even then, he didn’t plan to listen to you once the plan was through. No... you were his, no one else’s, and he was going to make sure you knew that before the end of the year. Nobody said no to Montmorency Stockill, nobody. But by the time he was done with you, you were going to happily say yes, the word “no” no longer a part of your vocabulary...
He smiled as he opened the door to the tea room, walking up to his mother and kneeling down before her. “Hello, mother. Let’s have our tea...”
In which you're presented with a dilemma... will you risk not just your livelihood but also your friends' or will you take the offer the spider is giving you...? Is it even a real choice when both the options are equally horrific...?
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Fem presenting gender neutral reader x Dr. Stockill
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TW: non-sexual nudity, stalking, psychological and emotional manipulation, mentions of physical abuse and sexual trafficking, infantilization of subordinate, non-sexual close physical proximity. (If there's more later I'll add them)
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Part 2:
Planting the seed
The next morning you woke up feeling strangely refreshed. Your nightly routine of waking up at 4 o’clock didn’t happen, as you slept better than you had ever done since arriving to this horrid place. As you stretched, you looked around and realized that your friends looked just as refreshed as you did as they also woke up and stretched, some even smiling softly as they scratched their heads and looked around at one another.
It was so bizarre not feeling cold as you pulled your old piece of flannel off to reveal Basil already busy grooming himself for the day. You kissed his little head and was starting to unbraid your hair when a bang on the bars made you and the rest jump.
“See?? I told you I was right!” Joanna screeched, pressing herself against the wall, terrified.
Even Jolie swallowed hard and looked at you. You looked back at her, took a deep breath and walked up to the bars, since you were the once closer to them. Whatever was going to happen... at least you had had a beautiful night like you hadn’t had since you were a small child and that was enought o give you courage.
“Y-Yes...?” you said softly, peeking outside of the blanket.
A young warden named Anthony stood there before the gate, carrying a canvas bag of what looked like warm bread, and another bag with something else inside, the smell of flowers wafting towards you through it.
“Pull the blanket down and get back,” he said softly, knowing he didn’t have to yell at you all.
You pulled the blanket back enough so that he could open the gate and look inside, and then walked slowly back, tripping on your mattress and falling on it, shaking your head at Jolie, signaling to her to stay back.
Anthony walked in, placed the bags down and pointed at the one that didn’t have the warm bread in. “That’s soap and towels. One per person, if you hoard them Madame Mournington will know. You will be escorted to take a shower in half an a hour, so I suggest you eat something before that,” he said in the same soft tone he used for you, then he left, locking the gate behind him.
Sir Edward inspected the bread like the night before, nodded at them, and your friends and you hurriedly took a loaf each, finding there was again more then enough. Jolie and you decided to distribute the rest amongst those of you that had the least strength, cutting up the loaves so everyone had an equal extra share, and then sat down to eat, eyeing the other bag suspiciously.
“I... have heard...” you started quietly at first, but gaining a bit more volume as you went. “That in some asylums they reserve the prettiest people for... uhm... nefarious reasons. They feed them well, keep them clean and well rested, and then at certain times of the month these people are offered to the best bidders for... well...”
Your voice trailed off, frowning a bit and biting into your bread, giving a bit to Basil.
“You mean so they entertain clients in bed??” Veronica said, looking up from her loaf, yanking her hair from Emily’s hands, as she was undoing the mess the woman had made during the night. “Ouch!”
“Sorry, Vee, but you moved your head. And how gruesome! D-do you think this is what is happening...?” Valentine said, frowning as well, hugging Veronica close.
You shook your head, then nodded, then shrugged. “I-I’m not sure... I... uhm...” you mumbled, blushing hard and hugging your knees. “It’s just too good to just be happening without a reason...”
“Oh, pish, you’re such a downer!” Joanna yelled at you from her own bed, finishing her loaf.
Jolie growled, looking up from her own food and throwing a handful of straw at her. “Shut it, Joanna, really! Leave them alone! They have every reason to feel weird about all of this! We all do...” she said, looking back at you with a smile. “But it’s alright, we’re all together and we can get through whatever the future brings...”
You nodded, smiling back softly and finished your loaf. You then sat there, unbraiding your hair, putting the clovers on top of your flannel... then deciding to keep them inside Dr. Stockill’s note, safely tucked in your mattress.
Precisely half an hour later, Madame Mournington came by to take you out for a shower. Standing in line, with Maudsley in front and Anthony behind, you all walked peacefully towards the courtyard, where a big screen made of white linen had been erected using poles and rope.
“Right! Everyone grabbed your towels and soap bars?? Good, you will go behind that screen in groups of three and clean yourselves, there are stools where to leave your clothes and towel, make sure you do not spend more than ten minutes showering!! Alright you three, go on!” she said, moving Valentine, Veronica, and Christelle with her cane.
The women hurried behind the screen and gasped, then squealed happily as they undressed and started to shower.
“It’s so warm!!” Veronica squeaked, jumping a bit as she let the water fall on her.
“Stop it with that nonesense and get to bathing!” the old lady ordered firmly, effectively shutting the women up.
But they couldn’t help humming and squeaking softly as they showered, the soap being a mix of rosemary and lavender, relaxing their aching muscles of years of cold and neglect.
Once they were done, they were directed to another part of the screen where they changed back into their shifts and stockings... and were given canvas slippers. The girls gasped, taking the soft fabric slippers in their hands. Sure they were soft shoes, not really protecting their feet from the pocky ends of a rock outside in the meadow... but having their feet covered was like a miracle.
You couldn’t help but bounce a leg as you tried to patiently await your turn. Finally you, Jolie, and Tall Sarah were called to the screen and you instantly teared up, seeing the water vapour and feeling the warmth. Once undressed, you lathered up your soap anc started to shower, washing your hair gently, trying to be fast but at the same time relish this amazing thing that was the hot water.
“Oh God... it feels so nice on the shoulders...” Jolie whispered, smiling at you, making you giggle softly.
After your ten minutes, you were ushered to where you could change back into your clothes and you were given your own slippers. Tearing up again, you hugged them to your chest and kissed them before slipping them onto your feet and looking at them.
”They’re perfect...” you said softly, walking out from behind the screen as you toweled your hair dry, walking leisurely with Jolie and Tall Sarah, who looked more relaxed than she had ever looked in all the years you had of knowing her, standing up to her full height, almost proudly.
“I-It fe-felt good...” she stammered hoarsely, smiling at the both of you, you nodding in return.
As you went to take your place back in line to be scorted to the cell, Anthony stopped you by grabbing you by the shoulder and pulled you aside.
“Dr. Stockill wants to see you,” Madame Mournington said with a huff, taking the towel away from you and toweling your hair for you, albeit a bit aggressively. “There, you have to put some strength into it so it dries properly! Here. Now come along and don’t dwaddle!”
You took the towel she was giving you back, aired it out, and looked around at your friends, waving a little at them so as not to worry them. You then hurried behind the old woman, Anthony after you.
“Well, go in!” the woman said, nodding towards the doctor’s door. “No, give me that! I’ll hang it to dry. Oh my God, these creatures are so dull!”
She yanked the towel from your hands and pushed you into the office, closing the door behind you. You squeaked, the canvas shoes making sure you wouldn’t get your feet splintered through the stockings, and stood there in front of the door, wringing your hands.
“Sit...” the doctor’s icy voice drifted towards you from the window, making you jump as you hadn’t expected him to be so close to you. “How was your shower...?”
“P-Pleasant, sir, thank you...” you said, your voice catching a bit, making you clear your throat.
“Water? Tea? Hot cocoa? Something stronger?” Stockill said softly, walking up to a side table and looking at you. “Biscuits...?”
You recoiled a bit. What was this?! It was as if someone had replaced the doctor with his less evil twin. It was too uncanny and bizarre for you to process.
“Ah, there it is, that look. You’re asking yourself what is happening, right...?” he asked walking up towards the chair you always sat in and standing behind it, peering down at you. “It must be exhausting trying to understand what is going on... trying to discern the reason behind such actions. ‘Why is he being so polite and even caring all of a sudden? Why??’ I can bet you have already thought I was preparing to slaughter all of you like cattle right...?”
You looked up at him, swallowed hard, and nodded. “Y-Yes sir...” you whispered, your heart pounding.
“I can hear your heart beating... it is so fast and loud...” he said with, a small smile dancing around his lips. “I’d advice you to not question my actions, but simply enjoy them. Not everyone needs an explanation, and not everything has one. You might think you need it, but in reality it is quite unnecessary... you think not...?”
You shook your head, then nodded, then shurgged again, extremely unsure.
“Speak your mind...I give you permission,” Stockill said softly, walking elegantly towards his desk. “Sit down in front of me, you’re too far away...”
Before you could speak your mind, you stood up, taken aback. Slowly, you made your way towards his desk and sat down in one of the leather covered chairs he had in front of it, reserved only for important people, not for inmates like you...
Snuggling into the chair, you took a deep breath and looked at him, wringing your hands.”F-First of all, I want to thank you in behalf of my cellmates and I for all the kindness you have been showing us... W-We cannot repay you...” you said quietly, glancing at him.
He made an exasperated movement with his hand and you cleared your throat again, continuing with your little speech. “S-so... I don’t think we’re stupid to think you really are preparing us for something, sir. I-I mean, fresh bread, thick shifts and canvas shoes after a shower?? Even privacy in our cell?? I-It’s suspicious to say the least, s-sir...” you said, biting your lower lip and trying to control the urge to hug your knees.
Stockill raised an eyebrow at you, making you recoil even fruther into the chair. He stood up, pulled out at hanckerchief from his pocket and handed it to you. “You are sweating...” he said curtly.
Your eyes widened as you looked at the cloth in his hand, but didn’t take it, shock keeping you still. Stockill sighed, and stood up, siting on the edge of the desk and leaning towards you, gently dabbing at your forehead, then raising an eyebrow again. “Oh, your hair is wet... Let me just-” he said, interrupting himself as he went to a closed cabinet and produced another towel from there.
“Allow me,” he said, his voice not as icy as before. He stood behind you and started to towel dry your hair, making you want to jump out of your skin. “What is the matter with you? You are acting like you saw a ghost...”
“With-with all due respect, sir,” you whispered, almost whimpering from the pure fear coursing through your veins. “Your demeanor is terrifying me...”
Stockill stopped his ministrations and hummed softly. He aired out the towel, folded it neatly and placed it in your lap with an unnerving softness. He then did something you had never seen him do before: he squatted down before and peered up at you. It was more than just strange, it was as if time had stopped for the both of you, the air standing still. You felt his breath so near you, minty and cold. You could see all his long dark lashes and the black voids his eyes were, the way his eyebrows knitted above them. You could see his smooth pale skin, the creases under his eyes, a small lock of hair getting out of his perfect coiffure.
“Terrifying...? How do you mean ‘terrifying’, pet...?” he whispered back, his tone almost playful... no, you were imagining things now, were you? “Ah, there is that look again... What did I say?”
“To not question, b-but to enjoy...” you whimpered softly as his cold pale hand caressed your cheek gently.
“Good...” he breath, cupping your cheek. “If I wanted to end your life, I would have already. Keep that in mind... Now, as for the way I am treating you...”
He interrupted himself and raised an eyebrow again, then stood up, looking above you. “Yes?” he said with more venom than you thought possible.
“S-sorry sir! T-There’s a problem in Ward B...” a warden stammered, poking his head into the office and looking at you curiously.
“Go see to it, then,” Stockill spat, looking visbily annoyed. “Can you not see I am quite occupied at the moment?”
“I-Yes, sir, but... it’s gettin’ a bit out of ‘and and...” the warden stuttered, passing saliva very hard.
Stockill rolled his eyes, sighed, and pinched the top of his nose. “Stay here, pet... I need to go see to this... Help yourself to anything you need,” he said, gently touching your own nose witht he tip of an incy index. “Very well, what seems to be the matter...?”
As he walked out you shakily stood up, but then you heard the key locking his door and slumped back down. No chance to escape, of course... The spider never leaves his web unattatended withou a failsafe, does he...? Sighing you looked around, feeling the smooth leather under your fingers.
Your stomach suddenly rumbled and you blushed, sighing again. It was breakfast time, of course you were hungry. Meager as the food you were given was, your body was already trained to know when you had to recieve it. Relenting, you stood up, got a few biscuits, found a kettle with now warm cocoa, poured yourself a bit in a cup, and sat back down. The cocoa was creamy and spicy, something you had never ever tasted before, it intriguied you. The biscuits were soft and buttery, similar to those your grandmother used to bake during the holidays... all in all food for the soul.
Finishing your small snack, you left everything mindlessly on the desk, feeling energized... almost euphoric... and looked around again, this time paying closer attention.
You had been in this office a couple of times but never stayed enough to actually have taken it all in. It was a pleasant mixture of chaos and order, if such a thing could exist. There was quite a few bits of bobs lying around to make it feel lived in, but everything seemed to have it’s perfect place and perfect order: cabinets full of curiosities, jars of pickled specimens, and boxes that hid secrets inside, files laying on the desk, notebooks stacked on a side table, but everything labelled and not one speck of dust on top of anything.
The cabinet to the immediate left of the desk contained tools and other bits and pieces for which you couldn’t imagine the use. Something silver and enlognated caught your eye and you stood up, following the gleaming. Gently opening the unlocked door, you daringly took the object in your hand and examined it. The silver was etched in delicate dainty flowers that intertwined with two letters, M. S. You turned the thing over and tilted your head, your now mostly dry hair falling off your shoulder. You could see something inside it, but you couldn’t make out how to open the thing to satisfy your curiosity.
“That, pet, is a fleam...” Stockill’s cold tones made you jump so hard you crashed into the cabinet and then fell backwards... right into the good doctor’s arms. “I see you have eaten some of the things I left for you... I hope you liked them...”
He gently passed his thumb over the corner of your lip, making you blush and stare at him like a deer in the headlights for what seemed like ages. Suddenly you tried to get back on your feet and spluttered, the fleen almost falling to the floor as you gestured.
“I’m so-so so-sorry, s-sir! I w-was just c-curi-curious and-and I wa-wasn’t thinking!! Please, p-please forgive me, I-” you stammered, shaking like a leaf in the fall’s breeze. But then you stopped, blinking at him as his arm was about your waist still.
Was that... a smile? Not the ghost of one, but a proper one. Small, sure, but... it was there, pulling the corners of his lips up. And it wasn’t even a weird, or creepy one, it looked genuine, brightening his snow white face, puffing up his hollowed cheeks...
You couldn’t help but recoil a bit. Stockill never smiled, he never showed any emotion besides revulsion when he had to touch any of you... yet here he was, smiling softly at you. You shuddered and reached up to touch his face, trying to ground yourself, it was all too bizarre. Had he put something in the chocolate??
“S-Sir...?” you squeaked, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “S-Sir, is everything... o-okay...?”
Stockill gently picked you up and sat you back on the leather chair, pushing your dirty cup to the side and sitting on the edge.
”I am perfectly fine, pet... You were just so bewildered and out of sorts, it was quite... adorable,” he said, sighing softly, looking at you with that small smile still on his lips. “I did tell you you could grab anything you needed to eat, didn’t I? I just never thought you would gather the courage to explore about my office...”
After a second his smile faded slowly and he took the tool still in your hand, springing it open before you, making you jump again.
“It is a fleam,” he repeated, letting you examine it. “It is used for bloodletting, amongst other things...”
You shakily took it and while you were looking at it, the doctor went to heat up water in his small hearth, pulling out a tin from his equally small cupboard. He took a clean cup, sprinkled some purple flowers into it and left it at his desk, with a cloth napkin underneath.
“Like... the pointy thing Dr. Lymer uses?” you asked softly, twirling the fleam gently in your fingers as you examined it.
“Yes... in Lymer’s case he uses one for veterinary use, the brute. I have this one because before practicing on humans we learn by practicing on animals. So it is a remnant from my medical school days. On you, pet, I would use this...”
He leisurely walked up to the cabinet, pulled out a small rectangular silver case and showed it to you. It also had delicate flowers etched on it, which you recognised as violets, and M.S. engranved on the front of the case. He popped it open and pulled out three delicate bone casings.
”These...” he said softly. “...are lancets. Much less brutal on the skin, especially when well sharpened and maintained. These were the first I ever used once I graduated...”
He gently took the fleam from you and placed the lancets on your palm, letting you look them over.
”Oh...” you said, unable to say anything else and you turned them in the light from the hearth’s fire. “They’re so delicate...”
”Indeed they are,” he said, a smidgeon of appreciation in his icy voice as he closed the fleam and put it away. “Much more delicate for such a... delicate creature...”
He sat ont he edge of his desk again and tilted his head, surveying your countenance. Feeling him staring, you looked up, blushing yet again. What was wrong with you?! You cleared your throat, closed the lancets, and gave them back to him. But instead, he gave you the case so you could put them all neatly inside it and pop it close.
“If you promise to keep it safe, you can have it...” he said casually, going to the heart to pull out the now hot kettle, pouring the water into the cup carefully, hanging the kettle back over the fire, but pushing the metal arm away from it. “I have no use for it anymore save for sentimentality, and I can see you appreciate it’s beauty. In anyway, they could come in handy if you need to cut a knot or fix something...”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. A gift? From Stockill?! And it wasn’t just any gift, it was something that could be used as a weapon! And made of silver to boot, what he playhing with you??
“I-I don’t... I don’t know what to say, sir...” you pushed out at last, your blush intensifying.
”You could start with a ‘thank you’, pet,” he said, settingt he cup before you after stirring a few drops of honey into it. “Lavender tea, for your nerves...”
“Ah! Y-Yes, thank you! Thank you very much!” you said, almost smiling. What? Why?? This was Dr. Stockill, the one person in charge of your life, of if you got to still be alive more like. The one man you were supposed to hate and fear and want to avoid at all costs. And here he was, giving you biscuits, hot cocoa, tea for your nerves... drying your hair gently, letting you speak your mind, catching you before you fell to the hard wood floor... and now... giving you a priceless possession of his. As if it were nothing to give it away!
You looked at the case in your hands, then at the tea... and burst into tears.
“Please... please stop...” you sobbed, finally hugging your knees, your slippers ont he impeccable leather. But you didn’t care anymore. You wanted all this to be over, the cruelty of it all seemed harder to bear than any horrible medical procedure, than any icy stare, than spending your time hungry, cold, and always on the verge of getting sick. “I can’t take it anymore, please... just-just end me! Just end with this madness and do what you want to me! I don’t care anymore, sell me to the best bidder, cut me open and pickle my insides, send me to the death pits in the scanvenger’s cart, anything as long as you stop this cruelty!”
The doctor squatted again, bringing his handckerchief towards your face. You gasped, sobbing harder and tried to get away, but he firmly kept you in place with one hand and gently dried your tears with the other, folding the cloth over as many times as he could. He then took him into your arms again, lifting you as if you were ragdoll and, with a gentleness you never knew could exist, deposited you in his cot.
You muffled a scream and squirmed to get away, but he held you in his arms still, letting you sob it out but not escape. By and by your panic subsided like it did with Jolie... but you felt different than you did with her. Stockill had a warmth to him that you had never felt. It was a mix between his human body and the gentleness he was showing, it made you painfully aware of how long it had been since you had been hugged by anyone other than your friends and fellow inmates. There were no protruding bones, no stench of unwashed hair, no coarse fabric nor shivering limbs...
This creaturethat had you trapped in his arms smelled of lavender and violets, a bit of bayrum as well, his clothes were soft, the collar was starched but his sleeves weren’t and his vest was comfortable and cozy. He had flesh on his skeleton, you could feel the muscles moving as he shifted to let you breath but never get away. His hair looked shiny and was now falling over his eyes, which no longer looked like endless voids, but like the jet cabochons your grandmother wore when your grandfather and parents passed, all those years ago...
Hiccuping, you finally stopped squirming and took a rattling breath, coughing into your hand. The doctor turned away with a grimace you didn’t notice, but gave you his handckerchief and pulled you gently into his lap, pushing your long hair off your face.
“Better, pet?” he whispered as you coughed again but nodded, your breathing slowly coming back to normal. He nodded, supporting you with one arm and gently took your chin between his thumb and index, turning your face to examine it. “It was just a good cry, nothing washing your face can’t fix.”
His tone was gentle, almost paternal but not quite so. It made curl up a bit. Just then you noticed you had been holding the little silver case with a death grip in your hand and it had hurt you. Wincing, you opened your palm and put the case in your pocket, hissing a bit as you examined your skin. There was a cut.
Stockill winced as well, noticing the blood. He, regardless, took a deep breath and used his handckerchief to press on the cut while reaching to a shelf above his cot to get a first aid kit. “It will sting a little...” he said quietly. He pressed a cotton ball to your palm before anything else, then opened a bottle and used four drops from it on another ball to clean up your wound.
You gasped and squeaked in pain, but remained firm in place, bravely taking it as he cleaned and patched you up, bandaging your hand. “Ow...” you whimpered at the end, giving a shuddering sigh.
“There you go, nothing to worry about...” he said, putting everything away. Unbeknownst to you, he slipped the bloody cotton ball into a small baggie and put that away with the rest of his kit... he could deal with that later.
You nodded, looking up at him, then at your hand. “Thank you... doctor...” you whispered, hoarse from your sobbing.
“Montmorency...” he corrected you.
“What?” you said, a bit too aggressive, taken aback and turning to look at him so fast your neck popped.
“My name is... Montmorency... like the cherry...” he said, not reacting to your change in tone, gently pulling the case out of your shift pocket and showing you the initials. “M. S. Montmorency Stockill...”
You blinked and traced the initials, then nodded. “Doctor Montmorency...” you said quietly, unsure of what was it that he wanted from you with this.
He shifted you gently in his lap so you were face to face and put his index on your chin, moving it as he spoke so you would mimick his words. “Montmorency...”
“M-Montmorency...” you repeated softly, still confused.
The doctor smiled softly and nodded. “In this space, you will call me as such. No titles. But only...” he said, his eyes flashing. “...in this space. If I catch you speaking my name outside of this office the consequences will be dire... Am I understood?”
You should have shuddered at that... but you didn’t. You didn’t and that was stranger than all that had happened so far. Even with the threat his words were... warm, inviting... gentle... You ere ever so confused, but you nodded.
“Yes, s- M-Montmorency...” you said softly, reaching to push a lock of hair off his eyes. “Like the cherry...”
“Yes, like the cherry...” he said, gently trapping your hand in his and surveying it. “You go now... I will send breakfast for you and your cellmates shortly...”
His eyes went back to you just the mantis’ had done... but you didn’t shudder then either. Instead, you blushed softly, nodding and making to step down from his lap, but he stopped you.
Sitting you between his legs, he started to braid your hair gently, trying it off with a ribbon, then helping you up, standing up himself.
“Hurry back to your cell, and don’t get distracted, pet...” he said, caressing your cheek.
He towered over you, but again... this didn’t make you afraid anymore. It intriguied you instead... As he pushed a lock of hair off your face now, he gently pushed you towards the door, nodding.
Padding towards it, you turned back, opening it. You then waved dazily at him, smiling a bit, still blushing. Your hand went to the ribbon in your hair and you couldn’t help but notice it was one of the ribbons in his vest... which made you blush even more. As he nodded again, you exited the office, feeling warm and cozy inside your heart, but confused and dazed inside your head.
Anthony gently took your elbow and walked you to your cell, frowning. “What did he give you this time...?” he said as you made your way to your ward.
“Hot cocoa and biscuits...” you murmured, looking out into the courtyard, feeling the autmn breeze play with your tresses.
“What...?” Anthony said, unsure if he heard you right.
“Nothing...” you answered back, letting him take you into the cell and lock the door behind you.
If this was a dream... you didn’t want to wake up...
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In his office, Stockill hissed as he cleaned his hand from any traces of your blood. He pulled the cotton ball from the first aid kit and stuffed it with a pair of tweezers into a small glass bottle, labelling it witht he date and putting it inside one of the endless wooden boxes you saw earlier. There were other bottles, all carefully labelled and put in order, your name gleaming in golden calligraphy on the inside of the box’s lid. He surveyed his collection and closed the box, carefully setting it back in the cabinet and locking the door.
He stretched a bit and cleaned up his desk, putting the used cup inside his desk drawer, chucking the unused on in the bin, and then sat on his chair, sighing. Well, the planting of the seed went easier and faster than he thought it would. The game started perfectly... Now, he’d order a decent breakfast up to your cell to further ensure his plans would succeed... You’d be his, no matter what... his offer would be too good to refuse by the time you laid it all out... It was just a game of patience from now on. That’s all he needed... patience.
In which you're presented with a dilemma... will you risk not just your livelihood but also your friends' or will you take the offer the spider is giving you...? Is it even a real choice when both the options are equally horrific...?
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Fem presenting gender neutral reader x Dr. Stockill
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TW: stalking, mentions of psychological and emotional manipulation, mentions of physical abuse. (If there's more later I'll add them)
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Part 1:
Preparing the soil
You couldn't handle his stare every time you were in the courtyard. His hawk like stare directly solely at you, though nobody else seemed to register this detail.
From his superior place on the second floor office, Dr. Stockill seemed to survey his dominion, the grounds of the asylum he had taken over and made into his playground, but you knew better...
"He's there again..." you whispered discreetly to Jolie, who stole a glance upwards as she faked a long, cat-like stretch while the sun hit her lovely pale face. She nodded at you to walk over to the patch of clover and dandelions that was the Rat Grave and you obliged, walking slowly towards it, as if you were simply mindlessly meandering about as always.
"There, now we can talk..." she said in her strange, sweet accent as you two stood there. You chanced a glance and smiled, nodding, as you realized that the west wing of the building made it impossible for the doctor to see you as you were standing in the warm patch of soft vegetation.
Your stockinged feet welcomed the warm softness of the clover beneath them, so abused by the hard and cold stone or chipped wooden floors of the asylum were they. As you saw Veronica distract the guards of that side of the yard, you decided to take off your stockings and dig your toes in the greens, squatting down to gently cut a dandelion and blow on it, sighing, the last rays of the autumn afternoon sun caressing your and Jolie's faces softly.
"Since when has he been doing this...?" Jolie said, imitating you, twirling the dandelion stem instead of blowing on it.
"A few months ago, but I hadn't noticed it till a week ago. I thought he was just, you know... doing what he does, supervising our sunshine time. But then I noticed he turned his head when I took the corner to grab some ivy leaves for our crowns the other day... That's when I knew. I'm scared, Captain, what if he calls me to his office?? I've heard the others say that's how it starts and then you end up in the scavenger's cart and-" you said, starting to hyperventilate as an anxiety attack threatened to knock you over.
Jolie gently took your cheek between her hands after kneeling on the clover and made you look at her. She pushed your long hair off your face and smiled at you. "Breath with me..." she whispered.
Your wide eyes focused on her and slowly you started to match your panicked breathing to her steady one, by and by feeling the sensation returning to your numb limbs and your heart coming down from the clouds. You took a deep breath closing your eyes, then opened them to look at her and smiled back.
"Thank you, Jolie... I-I don't know what happened..." you whispered, sitting down in the clover to ground yourself. "I think I panicked. I'm just so worried..."
Jolie gently put her arms around you and kissed your temple. "I know... But as Valentine says, one cannot busy oneself in what can happen in the future. We need to handle one day at a time. There's no other way..." she said, slowly braiding clovers into your hair. "It's grown so much... I hope they let you keep it..."
"Veronica bribed Maudsley to let me keep it the rest of the year. He's told the other to leave it alone..." you said smiling softly, closing your eyes as she braided your tresses.
The bell came too soon, as always, but this time you felt it came even sooner than you expected it. Quickly the two of you cleaned off your feet and pulled on the stockings, then hurried to get in line with the others. as you re-entered the main courtyard, you felt the now familiar coldness of Stockill's stare hit you like a bucket of ice cold water.
As you took your place in line you couldn't help but glance upwards, curiosity tickling you a little. And there he was in all his tallness, the director of the asylum, Madame Mournington's beloved son, with his handsome eyes, hollowed cheeks, perfectly brushed hair. Today he was wearing a white, starched, shirt with a deep purple brocade vest, black slacks and shined black boots. It seemed as if he had been getting ready to go out as he had his black coat and cravat hanging from his arm.
Just as you started to move back into the building, Madame Mournington entered the doctor's office and distracted him, making him visibly irritated for a second before he registered it was his mother who had entered without knocking. She proceeded to fuss over him, helping him with his cravat, tying it around his neck and pining it dotingly in place. He was attentive to her, polite as always... at least his demeanour showed that. But you couldn't help but notice that his gaze continued to follow you, even if his head didn't move.
It reminded you of a mantis, how their eyes followed you as you moved about in your mother's garden what seemed to be centuries ago now. This idea made you shudder just like you used to shudder back then. It wasn't pleasant, the stare was cold and unnerving, never wavering, as if they were trying to decide if you were a thread or a meal... You instantly looked away and focused on the back of the inmate before you, hugging yourself once you were inside the building and out of that gaze's path.
As you were moved back into your cell in ward A with the others, you plopped on your bit of straw, which had a bundled up old piece of flannel underneath for cushioning, and you sighed, smiling at the soft scent of the clovers in your hair. Suddenly you frowned and pushed down your hay. It was softer than you remembered, and the fresh green smell that caressed your nose wasn't just coming from the clover... it was all around you.
"Jolie, my darling, can you smell that?" you said, standing up and looking around in the dim light of the cell... wait, there was light in the cell?! How?? The autumnal sun never hit this cell, you had gotten used to moving about in semi darkness or total darkness, depending on the time of year... What was happening?!
Jolie and the others were just as perplexed as they looked about, realizing the cell had suffered some changes. All their beds had hay mattresses underneath the straw, making them softer and squishier than before. The fresh smell came from there as well. Then you all noticed lit candles on the wrought iron sconces mounted on the decrepit walls, and a small box with a couple new ones in a corner.
"Well, this is a must peculiar turn of events, am I dreaming??" Veronica said, twirling and looking around. "'ay beds? Candles? Next they are going to present us with clean shifts and new stockings!"
While she laughed her cackling laughter you walked up to the Stripped Stocking Society members that were in that cell and converged. "What do you think is going on?? Is this a trap??" you whispered as you all huddled in a corner.
"I don't think so... it's too elaborate to be a trap," Valentine whispered back, then looked at Jolie.
"I agree, but then again... you never know with them. What would they gain from this, though?" the silvery haired young woman said, biting her lower lip.
"Maybe make us feel all nice and then take it all away??" you said softly, shuddering. "L-like to torture us...?"
"I heard Maudsley say that the asylum was overpopulated and they'll kill us all tomorrow and that's why they did this, give us a bit of dignity before sending us to our grave... like a last supper," Joanna muttered, pulling on her hair.
"Oh, Joanna, shut it! You can't tell the truth to save your own skin!" Jolie growled angrily, but before anyone could say anything else there was banging on the cell's bars and everyone scurried to the walls, wringing their hands.
"Come here, you wretched girls!" Madame Mournington's voice echoed against the crumbling walls. "I suppose you have noticed the changes to your cell. And I suppose you are ever so grateful for them, are you not?? Stand up straight, you, you look like a slug slumping like that! Well, my son has decided to be generous with you all even though you certainly do NOT deserve his kindness. God knows why he has had this change of heart all of a sudden, the annual spectacle he always organises won't happen till next month... In truth I was against all of this, you all do not deserve such finery, but... he made me relent. So be sure to be grateful about this, and actually show your gratitude!! Maudsley, give it to them, and then accompany me. This isn't a burlesque show!"
The burly, brutish man opened the gate and threw two bags inside, then closed it and moved away from the sight of the bars, grumbling as he waited for the old woman to leave.
"Remember to be grateful!" she spat at them and with a huff, turned to leave, followed closely by the warden.
"Gives us what...?" Veronica murmured, slowly walking closer to the bags.
"Beloved, be careful!" Valentine said frowning with worry.
The black haired woman knelt down and opened on the bags with a soft squeak revealing enough loaves of bread to feed them twice over. The other one contained clean shifts and stockings and a big blanket.
You gasped hurrying to the bread bag and pulled two loaves, giving one to Jolie.
"Wait!" a squeaky voice said behind you all as Sir Edward, who had been in Valentine's shift pocket, poked his little head out and hurried after you. "Let me make sure this isn't a trap, like you said.”
He hopped inside the bag and started to sniff around, waiting a few moments to process the information between each sniff, till he turned to look at you and nodded with what looked like a smile.
“All clear, my dear...You all may eat this bread,” he said formally, bowing, then hurrying back to Valentine, who gave him a sizeable piece from her loaf.
You proceeded to give Jolie her own loaf and broke yours apart, finding seeds inside. “Look! Poppy seeds, and pumpkin as well! Are these nuts, too??” you said, tearing up. “Oh, and dried raisings! What is this?? what is happening??”
”What do you suppose this is for...?” Veronica asked, pulling the blanket out of the bag and drapping it around her like a toga. “So we can share it...?”
Emily looked at it for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “I know!” she said, gently taking the blanket from her beloved and going to the barred wall with the gate. “Help me!”
Jolie hurried to her as well as Tall Sara, and they all hung the blanket from the tops of the bars, pushing the corners into small crevices, and using old nails to support it.
“See?? Now we have some privacy and the night wind cannot get in!” the red head said jovially, clapping softly and turning to the rest of you.
You nodded, wiping your eyes and going to her. “Do you think they will come to pull it off at night...? I’m so scared this is just a dream or a cruel prank...” you said, swallowing a bit of your bread.
“Let’s just take this how it goes, stop worrying about the future and enjoy what we have right now, yes? We will worry about the rest as it presents itself...” Valentine said, smiling softly at you.
You nodded, taking a deep breath, then hurrying to your new bed, sitting down after brushing the straw off of it and sighing softly. “So soft... come on Basil! Here, have some bread, it’s so nice and filling!”
As you sat there, watching your friends get comfortable, changing into fresh shifts and stockings and eating to their hearts content you couldn’t help but wonder about the old woman’s words: <<My son decided to give you all this...>>
<<Does this mean he’s finally having a real change of heart...? I wonder if the other cells are getting the same treatment...? I really hope things improve from now on...>> you thought as your turn to change into your new fresh clothes came. You slowly pulled off your shift and folded it, setting it at the foot of your new bed together with your stockings and snuggled into the fresh one, touching it gently.
It was decidely less thin than the one you had just pulled off, and the embroidery was exquisite! Plus this one had a small front pocket, and the sleeves were long, reaching your wrists, the hem, of the shift reaching a bit below your knees...
You were properly spooked now. What was going on...? This was most strange for the asylum, a place you all had come to regard as hell on earth. New and better clothes, living quarters, and food?! As you moved your hay mattress a bit to fluff it up you felt a piece of paper within the old flannel you used to cover your straw. Gently you pulled it out and unfolded it. It was a piece of delicate paper, so thin it was almost see through. It had violets etched on the sides and written in elegant fountain pen hadnwritting was the following:
“I hope you like my gift. Enjoy it, and do not hoard the bread, there will more tomorrow. Be good and share everything amongst yourselves, I will be watching... like always.
Dr. Montmorency Stockill.”
You gave a drowned gasp and dropped the paper. Basil looked sleepily up at you, snuggling his bit of bread, but you stroke his little head gently, lulling him back to sleep. Jolie looked around at your gasp with inquisitive eyes.
“Is everything alright, sailor?” she said, pushing her hair off her face gently as she fastened her tricorner hat to it. She walked up to you and you quickly scrambled to you feet, stepping on the note to hide it from view.
“Yes, yes! I think that a bit of straw poked me and I thought it was a bug!” you said, chuckling nervously. “I don’t want to wake Basil up so he can check, though...”
”No worries! I’ll tell Valentine to bring Sir Edward! Valentine!” Jolie said happily, hurrying to Emily and Veronica’s little corner.
Sighing in relief, you took the note and hid it in your mattress, finding your four spoons there as well. Your frowned, but decided that it was enough for today. You could decipher what was happening tomorrow... or maybe later, when you’d inevitably wake up in the middle of the night and chat with the writhing wallpaper ghosts... but a small thought was gnawing at the back of your head... a little something was out of place in your mind, something just felt weird: <<Dr. Stockill did this... he went out of his way to do this... Regardless of the anything else, he still did it... and he’s been watching me... what-why-what does he want...?>>
You shuddered again, but masked it all up with a soft smile as Emily arrived with Sir Edward, who took on the task of checking your new bed for bugs... You definitely would tell this to the wallpaper ghosts... Maybe they could help you understand...
Outside your cell, Stockill stood listening to the chatter, his cold black eyes scanning the shadows that were projected onto the blanket by the candles, finding yours without a problem. His gaze swept down the corridor to the other cells, dark, quiet, and cold, and then came back to yours, lively and even cozy. He took a deep breath, fixed his spectacles, and the shadow of a smile danced around his soft lips as he turned to leave the ward, instructing the warden to leave you all alone for the night. It was enough tomfoolery for today, tomorrow the real game started... He just hoped you were ready for it.
Located within the Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls, this gallery will feature fanart and fiction created by yours truly.
I don't consider myself a Plague Rat because I don't follow Emilie Autumn. I believe in the concept called "the death of the author", and I like the work that is the book in all it's iterations withou worshiping the author behind it.
This blog will touch dark, sad, and complicated topics pertaining mental health, abuse, and related.
If you cannot handle these themes, are a minor and/or if you cannot handle the fact that fiction is fiction and I can ship Dr. Stockill and any other fictional character fromt he book with any OC or other fictional character I want then
DO NOT INTERACT.
The following are the cell rules, read them carefully:
Currently I will only write for Dr. Stockill. I might write for other characters later on, but right now I wanna focus solely on Stockill.
I don't take art requests. I don't do art for free. I can take suggestions but it's at my discretion if I decide to draw them or not
Please have patience, this is a hobby for me. I have work and other stuff to do outside of this, so I might take some time to get to your ask and request. Just have some patience.
Nothing that includes minors, please. Fiction is fiction, but this boundary exists to protect my own mental health.
I can write smut. It will be a bit OOC for Stockill, sure, but if you don't mind that I will gladly oblige.
Yes, I can write yandere headcanons, both romantic and platonic. Stockill is practically one, to be fair. Romantic might be a bit OOC, but see point 5.
Once you read the rules if you wish to proceed you will do so under the understanding that you accept to follow these rules.
I think that's all for now.
Thank you for visiting this gallery, observer, it's not for the faint of heart.
