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Tommy loves his job, it’s at a quaint little bookshop and it’s lovely. The pay is enough to keep his half of the bills paid, he’s pretty sure Sam, his boss, overpays just slightly but it’s not something he wants corrected. Working at Nook’s Books had in retrospect been one of the best things that had happened in his prematurely started adult life.
He loves his job, he repeats to himself as some entitled prick requests to see the manager. They had apparently outsourced a book— one of the great deals at Nook’s where people could request future stock— that hadn’t gotten here yet. Tommy sighed at the utter entitlement that poured from the customer. “Listen,” he says, placing his hands down on the counter and giving a perfect customer service smile. “I understand that you were expecting the book to be in by now, but sometimes the shipments get delayed. I apologize that you were not notified of the postponement of your book.”
The lovely customer (read: massive fucking asshole) rolls their eyes at Tommy’s attempt at deescalating them. “I don’t care what you have to say, I need that book before my brother’s birthday. Let me speak to your manager so I can get this all sorted and be on my merry way, since you’re not able to handle this for me.”
Tommy would beat the shit out of this person if he valued his job less. “Okay,” Tommy said before moving to reach into the drawer at the desk and grabbing his name tag from where he had thrown it when it broke a few days ago and practically shoving it in the asshole’s face. “You’re speaking to the manager, but I'm afraid im not capable of dealing with this problem, so I'm just going to have to ask you to leave. We’ll notify you when we get the shipment,” Tommy snarks, completely missing how the customer’s eyes light up at the shift in tone.
Luckily enough, the person leaves without much more hassle and the rest of the day is a breeze.
Tommy had forgotten all about the mega Karen until the shipment came a few days later. When he pulled out the book from a box— an ornate copy of The Art of War that was so pretty Tommy would have been afraid to touch it if he was newer to the job— he just knew who had bought it. It was either a superpower or an extremely strange gift he had honned while working at Nook’s, his skill to just know which person a book belongs too.
When he had sent a message to the account set up with the purchase, he hadn’t been expecting the person to immeditly spawn as if they had been waiting in the corner of the shop. He also didn’t expect it to be a different person entirely. This time, instead of the pompous brunette there was an absolute character, a buff person with long pink hair, draped in gold.
Their earrings clinked together as they walked towards the front where Tommy was organizing the other new arrivals. “Hullo,” they greeted in a gruff voice that Tommy hadn’t really been expecting. “I- uh my brother was here not too long ago? He was supposed to pick up a book for me but he’s a bit...” they trailed off and Tommy nodded. This must have been the brother that the prick had mentioned, kind of shitty that he had to pick up his own birthday present but who is Tommy to judge.
“Art of War?” Tommy questioned just to make sure his assumptions were correct even though he was never wrong, he didn’t was to embarrass himself by depending on his theories all the time. When the man nodded, Tommy gave a bright smile before turning around. He had a winning streak with his guessing game of who get what when it came to special orders. The blonde grabbed the book— the general décor made sense now, it matched the golden theme the man had going on— before turning back. “Here you go, big man.”
Strangely, the man didn’t look at the book at all when it was passed to him, instead opting to keep his gaze on Tommy. It was a little strange, but Tommy had found out pretty quickly that people who spend most of their time reading aren’t always the best in social situations. “Thanks, Tommy. I’ll be seeing you,” he said before leaving.
It wasn’t until later that day, at least halfway through his shift, that he realized that he wasn’t wearing his name tag. The nametag was still broken, shoved deep in the drawer he knew that nobody ever opened other than him. He chalked it up to the prick telling the pinkette about getting bested when he pulled the whole Karen act out of his ass.
This was his first mistake.
Tommy’s second mistake came a few days later when he agreed to get lunch with a regular of his. It was rare to have a regular at the shop that came in more than once a month but Phil, apparently, had tons to blow on books.
The man had two sons, from what Tommy had heard, and one of them was an avid reader and the other would occasionally indulge in a good book or two. So not only did the man buy for himself, he also bought for his kids. Phil was endearing like that, always thinking about his kids when he surveryed the shelves. It made Tommy wish he had been raised by someone like Phil, that there was someone in the world who cared enough to think about him in situations they didn’t have to.
There was something entirely too welcoming about Phil, something that seemed like it would suck anyone in. Tommy was not immune to the Phil charm; he had somehow quickly come to see the man as a father figure. It probably wasn’t a difficult feat on Phil’s behalf, Tommy had a notably... not good upbringing and someone who exudes as much dad energy as Phil did was bound to have a certain effect.
So of course, Tommy agreed to go to lunch with Phil without much thought. Tommy felt safe enough with him and the man didn’t really seem the type to kidnap some random kid— adult as far as Phil knew— who worked at a bookshop. Not to mention the fact that Phil was probably ancient, his old bones could not handle stealing a kid.
Tommy was apparently fucking awful at picking people to trust. As soon as they had rounded the corner (“ C’mon, mate, I know a shortcut through this way—” “Philza this is a death ally,” Tommy interrupted, not noticing the way Phil’s eyes hardened minutely. “It’s fine, Toms,” The man said, pushing Tommy further into the ally. ) there was a sharp pain in Tommy’s neck and the world got all foggy and it felt like he was spinning.
How are you really meant to judge someone’s character when they’ve been acting from the beginning? Maybe Tommy wasn’t wise enough to make friends— if he was twenty like all his legal documents claimed he was then he’d probably have enough knowledge to not get fucking kidnapped. If he was twenty, he thinks that wouldn’t be kidnapping, it’d be adultnapping, which if fucking weird.
He groaned, tugging at the ropes that tied his hands together behind his back. He could feel it tugging at the raw skin and he kind of wondered if there was a rating system for getting snatched, this would be zero stars. A slow build and a betrayal that led to the worst fucking rope burn ever, he wonders if they allow negative stars.
He doesn’t get time to ponder the kidnapping rating scale because the door ahead of him opens. The whole abduction yelp thing needs to allow negative star, he thinks as Prick and Pinkette— the dynamic duo— step into the room. Maybe they’ll allow him to slam his head into the wall like he wants to so he at least won't have to be awake while in the presence of Prick. He can’t determine if Prick’s terrible attitude was worse than the whole kidnapping thing or not.
It’s a little surprising he will have to admit. He knew Prick was a right wrongun ever since he set foot in the shop, but Pinkette too? He guesses it must run in the... in the family. Fucking Phil. Phil and his two sons who stand before him now all judgey and shit. “What the fuck,” Tommy says even though his mouth has never felt so dry, and his words are slightly slurred. He hopes the tone gets across, the whole seriously what the fuck tone.
“Hey, mate,” Phil greets as if Tommy’s not tied to a chair. It’s ridiculous, Tommy vaguely notes that Phil is wearing the shitty green and white striped bucket hat that he had bought the man for Christmas. He wasn’t sure that Phil was wearing it earlier, when he was initially kidnapped. “Sorry about... all of this,” he says with a wide smile. It’s only now when Tommy realizes that the man’s canines are slightly too long to be considered normal in any sense of the word.
Pinkette, who notices the way Tommy’s eyes widen at the sight of Phil’s teeth, nudges Prick. “Seems like things are finally becoming clear for the nestling,” Prick stage whispers to his brother. Tommy’s not sure what the fuck a nestling is but the tone Prick had used made him feel like he definitely did not want to know.
Phil hisses— straight up fucking hisses— at Prick. “Leave it, Wilbur. You’ll overwhelm him.” There’s still that caring undertone to his voice and even if Tommy were the absolute worse judge of character, he feels as if anyone could be fooled by Phil’s act. Prick— Wilbur apparently— scoffs at Phil’s words before leaning his weight onto his brother.
Phil steps forward, entering Tommy’s bubble. Typically, the blonde would be all swears and complaints while secretly relishing in the subtle affection. However, now Phil is a monster who kidnapped him, the soft façade of a father with a too big heart who was quick to adopt strays had collapsed the moment he stepped foot in this room. “It’s going to be okay,” Phil says softly and Tommy so desperately wants to believe you. “This was just a precaution for if you freaked out when you woke up, Techno’s going to untie you and we’re going to make our way to the nest, okay?”
It was very much not okay but seeing as Pinkette— Techno— chooses now to advance from where he stood in the corner, Tommy didn’t get much of a say in it. Everything about this situation is a bit jarring, like Tommy had stepped into an alternate dimension where everything was majorly wrong. The ropes tying his hands together behind the chair are untied as soon as Techno reaches him and Tommy brings his hands forward, rubbing at the now raw wrists.
Distantly, he can hear Phil wince sympathetically at the injury. Before he can turn to look in the man’s direction, Techno picks him up bridal style. He squawks in offence but being this close to Techno, he can see how intimidating the man looks. Unrelated, Tommy decides to not throw the fit he wants to. The door to the room opens again and all four of them make their way out— to the nest if what Phil said earlier was true.
He winces when they make their way up the stairs and his hand bumps into the wall. “You alright, runt?” Techno asks. The other two were nearly up the long staircase while Techno and Tommy were still near the middle. Tommy just nods his head, steeling his eyes forward. “If you say so,” he drawls, continuing walking.
Tommy must zone out at some point— which is valid right? This could be traumatizing one Tommy stopped being in shock— because the next thing he knows, he’s being dropped into a pile of soft things. Blankets and pillows and other fabrics surround him. Maybe the whole rating system from earlier can be rethought, it’s nice in here. Two stars.
“Hey, Toms.” Tommy has no clue when Phil had gotten so close, he hadn’t heard the man approach. When he tried to lean back, Phil grabbed his face. The motion was a little too harsh to be compared to the gentle touch the man typically had. “Don’t do that.” The tone Phil had taken was just another jarring thing to add to the mass list of completely wrong things happening at the moment.
The blonde, finding it wildly irrational to even attempt to break the hold after Phil had snapped, instead shifted his gaze so that he was looking towards Techno and Wilbur. The two were standing at the edge of the pile, Techno watching with vague interest while Wilbur watched as if this was his only source of entertainment he had ever received. “What’s going on?” Tommy asked Phil, though his eyes lingered on the brothers.
Phil softened his grip, eyes portrayed an emotion that Tommy could even begin to decipher. “Oh, my sweet boy,” the man crooned possessively, his unoccupied hand coming up to brush Tommy’s bangs out of his face. “You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself.” As if that justified the whole situation. A look of confusion must have crossed Tommy’s face because Phil proceeded with his thoughts. “You’re too young to be working so hard.”
The certainty in Phil’s voice makes Tommy’s skin crawl, logically, there is no reason for Phil to know anything about how young Tommy truly is. “I’m an adult, I’m pretty sure I can work however hard I want to,” Tommy spits though it lacks the typically confidence that usually comes with talking about his fake age.
The grip tightens again. “Don’t,” Phil hisses before his hold goes slightly slack. “Don’t lie to me, dearheart. I don’t appreciate it.” Tommy sucks in a small breath and he can feel tension coursing through every inch of his body. Phil ever the empath, switches his act once again. “Hey, no. It’s okay darling. You’re okay, I know it’s been hard, yeah? It doesn’t have to be hard anymore, we’re going to fix everything for you.”
“Fix?” Tommy questions, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice. He fails miserably but he’s been kidnapped so it feels valid in this situation that he’s a little fucking nervous.
“It’s going to be okay.” Phil smiles, too wide— once again showing off his oddly long canines. The hand cupping his face moves to push his jaw back so that his neck is barred to the three. “You’re going to be so good for us.” A finger brushes over his jugular and his breathe catches in his throat. “Our perfect little fledgeling.”
There’s a moment where Tommy can feel Phil’s cold breath on his neck before the man pulls back. “Got a little ahead of myself there. Come on boys, stop standing there. The fledgling is going to want all of his coven mates in the nest when he turns.” While Tommy can’t turn his head to look, he can tell from the light shuffling that the brothers made their way into the pile— into the nest.
“He’s not going to like that,” A gruff voice— Techno— says. There’s amusement lingering in his tone and Tommy truly thinks he’s going to be sick. There’s a whole section in the bookshop dedicated to mythology, and a part of that section covers vampire. Vampires with their sharp teeth and loose morals.
Tommy’s slightly out of his depth. “He’s going to have to, mate. It’s an important part of the process.” And though Tommy can’t see what they’re talking about— still frozen in the position Phil had moved him into as if he was a rabbit in the presence of a pack of wolves— he knows that he fucking hates every bit of it. Phil tilts his head back down and Tommy can finally see what Techno was talking about. There’s a long cut on Phil’s wrist that’s slowly dripping blood. And as if that wasn’t bad on its own, Phil is actively bringing the wrist to Tommy’s mouth. “Come on starlight, just a few sips,” Phil says before pinching Tommy’s nose.
As the bloody wrist was brought to his mouth, the thought of the lunch Phil had promised him earlier briefly crossed his mind— he wondered if the promise wasn’t an empty one and if they just had different definitions of proper lunch food. Tommy didn’t get much time to think it over before he was forced to swallow the viscous liquid. It was heavy on his tongue and tasted absolutely foul, but he couldn’t stop seeing as Phil was cutting off his air flow.
The wrist was pulled away after what felt like entirely too long and Tommy gasped, taking in air as if he hadn’t breathed in years. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth and Tommy was certainly out of his depth. “One last thing, then you can rest.” And gods, Tommy sure as hell hated the sound of that.
His head was tilted back once more, only this time when Phil came close, he didn’t back out. “Just a little pinch, then everything’s going to be just fine.” It was the only warning before a searing pain spread through his neck. Luckily, the heat was followed by an almost numbing coolness, as if someone had sucked all the warmth from every inch of him.
Tommy slumped into Phil’s grasp, the sensations getting to be a little too much. Faintly, he could register a hand combing through his hair and what was either a really quiet conversation or a soft hum. Then, all of a sudden, the sensations— the humming and freezing burn— stopped entirely and the world faded from Tommy’s sight.