A little one, without as much in the way of violence. Nonetheless,
Content Warnings: Kidnapping, captivity, first aid; references to drugging, injury, torture, acceptance of captivity. victim blaming, vaguely.
“So who are you, her lapdog?”
Adrianspoke as the smaller boy carefully untied them from the chair and unpacked a small medical kit. He didn’t immediately respond, and was careful to set the sharp and bloodied wires aside.
Okay so a few of yall said you might like to see some of my original characters in whump drabbles. I’m gonna give y’all some options and you Guys can tell me which one you’d like to see first?
1: Cassidy and Dalton—dumbass genius boy and edgy thot with mind powers. Set in the 90s
2: Atlas and Libai—jackass criminal boy who cannot die and depressed chick who most likely is not a murderer. Set in medieval fantasy.
3: Sol and Trini—brainwashed superhero’s son with printer powers and a nurse who’s not taking anyone’s bullshit. Set in the late 70s
4: Rowan and Aliyah—himbo prince who trusts too many ppl and ruthless bounty hunter who gives off the same energy as a naked cat. set in the early 1600s
5: Callum and Aella—reporter who gets in a shit-ton of trouble and a woman who just wants to bake and be happy, but somehow got swept up into this mess. Set in the 20s
6: Alastair and Florence—two detective cop partners who do not like each other but would most likely die for each other. Ties in with Callum and Aella, set in the 20s
That’s all I have (for now). I always love hearing from you guys so tell me which ones you’re interested in. Uhhh okay! Bye, love ya!
CW: caretaker new master, pet whump, multiple whumpees, fear of punishment.
=-=
Night looked around the room. Everyone was sleeping in the pile, it was an uneasy sleep, but at least they were together and when someone whimpered scared the others were quick to calm them down.
It’s late. Night thought as he got up —Master Eri said they are allowed to walk, he isn’t being a bad pet, he is just obeying— and walked out of the room. The night would protect him; if anything he could say he was working, and if he was found somewhere he shouldn’t be he could say he heard a suspicious noise there.
The doctor —Sir. Beckett, if Night heard right— had left. Night heard the fight, although he didn’t quite understand, “Why did you call me here if you thought I would hurt them?” the doctor shouted. Maybe master wants you to hurt us. Night thought, it made sense, in truth it was obvious.
“I’m sorry, I just- please I need help!” Master had said, and if Night didn’t know better, he would say his voice was full of despair.
As if humans can even know how this feels! Night stopped in front of the room the youngest was, he had had it too hard already so why? Why is this master picking on him too? There are five other —stronger— pets! Why do they want to hurt the weakerone? The one that can’t survive this much longer!
I heard a suspicious noise, so I went to check in. I heard a suspicious noise, so I went to check in. Night thought his excuses beforehand and he touched the doorknob. Yes, he would still be punished for chasing a nonexistent threat, but he would be punished even more harshly if he were to say he just wanted to check in on the boy.
The door had barely opened when Night regretted his choices. The boy was lying on the bed, apparentlywithout new wounds, but there was a tub going into his nose from somewhere Night had no time to check; the boy wasn’t alone. Bad idea bad idea bad idea idea-
“Night?” Master Eri —who had woken up with the sound of the door being open– asked, rubbing his eyes and making Night wonder: If he just closes the door and hides, would master think he was dreaming when he saw Night?
Master checked on the phone just long enough to look at the time, “Are you working, dear?” he said with a sleepy voice.
“Yes, Sir,” Night lied, almost putting himself on his knees, but master —says— he doesn’t like it when the pets kneel, maybe it’s because he knows that kneeling eases some anxiety, it gives some sense of safety, of being proper; Why would master want them less anxious?
“I… heard a suspicious noise, so I came to check in.”
“Seriously? I didn’t heard anything,” Master Eri said, making Night’s blood run cold; If this excuse don’t work I- “But, well, I was sleeping so I wasn’t really paying attention, thank you for coming to check, Night,” Master smiled, and even if Night didn’t find any of the little signs from when someone is lying, he was still suspicious.
“Is everyone okay?” Master Eri asked getting up, “Maybe I should take a look-”
“No need,” Night cut, swallowing hard at his own bad behavior, but if Master sees everyone on the pile he will be so mad right? Since the pets are comforting each other. Cruel. If Master hadn’t left them this anxious they wouldn’t need comfort to begin with! “They are only pets, sir, they don’t need your attention this late.”
Master frowned, which is odd, humans like when pets talk about how little they are worth. “Still, it’s better to-”
The boy whimpered quietly, making Master’s eyes turn at him. Night tried to ready himself to the sight; the boy would be punished for sure, even if he has no fault, even if it was just a little sounds, even if-
“I’m sorry,” Master said and, for a second, his smile fell and he looked so tired, it was only a second, Master’s usual expression was back, but Night had no doubt about what he saw, “I didn’t pay attention to any of you but him the past days, I- I’m sorry, I’ll do better in the future,” he sat back down, seemly not willing to explain his nonsensical words. “I trust you to keep everyone safe, Night, I know how trustworthy you are.”
The praise got him off guard, making his face go hot.
“I’ll be staying here tonight,” Master continued, looking at the —now silent— sleeping pet.
Night tried to understand the situation, but in the end he is just a stupid pet and whatever master was talking about made little to no sense. But he understood one thing. Master won’t leave the room.
The others would be safe but the smaller, weaker one would be here; on reach, too defenseless and easy to hurt. Night didn’t want to allow that, even if a pet doesn’t really have a choice about anything.
“Then I’ll stay too,” the words left Night’s mouth before he could think about it, he glanced at his owner, but Master didn’t seem angry at that so, against all reason, Night decided to keep talking. “Since I heard the suspicious sound…” he lied, “so it’s safer for you, Sir.”
Master thought about it for a few seconds before nodding tiredly, “I can use some company, thank you.”
Some company… so he really wants something to hurt.
Night walked in after closing the door behind him, he knelt as he was trained, not as gracious as Purple, certainly not so cute as Pink or desparate as Day and Beige, but still submisse, still waiting for a pain he knowshedoesn’t deserve, but that he has no way of stopping.
“You are really kind, Night,” Master said absent-mindedly while patting the pet, who was then too scared to enjoy, in truth this only made his stomach turn, “Try sitting okay?” Master ordered, and Night obeyed, feeling the anxiety increase at the improper and not trained position. Master leaned back on the chair and closed his eyes, “Thank you for coming here, really, I’ll make up for leaving you all alone. I’m just–” he yawned, “–a bit tired now.”
Night noticed that Master had drifted back to sleep, he can do that, he isn’t the vulnerable one, he won’t be hurt no matter what he does. The boy whimpered in his sleep again, he seemed in pain, he wasin pain.
Because we are pets. Night thought, because we must suffer even in our dreams.
– tw;; pet whump, captivity whump, multiple whumpees, caretaker new master, mild angst (?), references to training, long paragraphs –
I think there was something you saw, walking down that street. You were staring endlessly, breathlessly, until you inhaled sharply. Stabbing through my thoughts like a dull knife and pulling down to make me see the tears wetting your shirt. I reached out to dry it off, to make the stain disappear before Master came back. You turned to me but never met my eye and I apologized. You weren’t quiet. You were crying, right on my shoulder where the tears moved to fall on my sweatshirt. The one you gave me that night, when I was covered in water. And blood. The blood still stained because you couldn’t wash it out. Master said it was fine. He’d buy a new one. But I denied. I denied because I was scared that the new one would get stained the same way. He nodded with a fake smile. I wish his smile was more like yours. Warm and familiar. Yours is sweet and real. Calm and soothing. Adjective and adjective. Theres too many ways to describe how I feel about you. There’s been many ways others have described how they feel about me. None of those could apply to you. For you, the opposite is real. I wish today was the opposite, so that you’d be smiling again. Smiling and telling me how you thought the bug you saw on a leaf in the garden had cute horns. They weren’t horns, Master corrected you. I don’t care what they are, or what they’re called. But in the moment I wish I did.
If I told you all I knew about the bugs in the garden, would you look in my eyes and smile again? Or compliment me on my knowledge of animals? Perhaps that would distract you from the pain you are in. I distract myself with thoughts. Endless thoughts that endlessly run through my mind. They pause when you look at me, and huff with a smile. I don’t know why you huff. Are you the one running through my mind? It feels like you’ve been occupying a space in my head all along. A space I thought would remain empty. I shouldn’t think. My thoughts are always wrong. That’s what the trainers said. And repeated. They always repeated it. They repeated it until I repeated it. I have too many thoughts. I think too much. That’s what they always say. No. No not the trainers. The people. The people you stare at so intently when they walk by on the street. The ones that made you cry when you looked at their faces but I didn’t know why. Why would you cry looking at someone without a face? Maybe you don’t like faceless people. If you don’t like faceless people then why don’t you look at me? I have eyes you can stare at, a nose you can touch yours with and lips that allow us to talk.
I want you to stare at me. I need you to look in my eyes with that deep gaze you always seem to have. You’re always looking. You’re attentive and alert. Your mind isn’t occupied by unnecessary thoughts like mine. You didn’t need to be told to stop thinking because your mind doesn’t hold your thoughts but your eyes do. They don’t look at your eyes the way you look at theirs. And mine. You look at mine so differently. I don’t want them to look deep into your eyes and occupy place in your mind. I want to take a spot in your mind the same way you took one in mine. Or perhaps I’m incapable of that. You’re capable of so many more things. You know what to do and when to do them. You follow the commands of the faceless people so much better then I do. If I claim a spot in your mind, can I learn to be so great? Perhaps you’ll look deep in my eyes and teach me.
I want you to open your eyes and allow me to dry the tears running down your cheeks. They fall past your lips like they aren’t there. I see its there. You use it to talk to me, and tell me how I feel. You know how to do that. You’re good at telling me what is important to think because I think too much and those thoughts trample over what is important for me to know. You tell me I need to know my emotions. You said you would help me know. I want to know your emotions. I want to know how you feel, how you think and how you’re so good. When I cry you hug me and tell me its alright. I do the same for you. I hold you closer and closer. Your hair is getting in my eyes and mouth but I do not know if I should care. I decide not to care. You hug me back, the weight of your arms keeping me connected to the ground and reminding me to care about the cold tiles beneath us and the footsteps that echo off it. But I chose not to care about our Master crouching down beside you, slowly petting your head. I want to be the one doing that but I didn’t think of doing that because nobody told me I needed to.
I think you’re important enough to care for me to about. You’re important enough for me to care about. You’re important. You’re important to me. Am I important to you? Do you think about me? Am I important enough to think about? Am I important enough for you to care about? Or are those thoughts about me a discard-able thing like I am. Will you discard me from your mind? Will you push me away and look me in my eyes while telling me that I’m no longer fun? People have told me that many times. It’s okay. You can be honest. You can tell me how you feel. I need to know how you feel. I need to know that you’re alright. Or that you’re not, so I know to make you feel alright. Your words make me feel okay. I hope mine do the same for you.
Tw/Cw: Pet whump, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, held captive, brainwashing, kind of sad ending.
Werner first met Nel during the “revard” time. He and other Trainees “earned for behaving”. He already moved out from the ‘useless defiance’ phase to ‘sad and resigned following orders’. Though he did plan on intentionally failing some task, just to make sure, he’s not reallybreaking.
“Revard” turned out to be some sort of movie night. There were no blankets or snacks like on movie nights he was during his freedom days, but it was a break.
Projector started out and some kid’s show started playing. No, not ‘kid’s show’, it was a damn freaking Pet show. Brightly colored characters, simple dialogue spoken in annoying high-pitched voices and each episode having “a lesson” to it. He almost laughed at himself. What did he expect from the brainwashing facility?
And though he didn’t really want to watch this, there was nothing else to do. And who knows if he won’t be asked about the plot or something? It was still so annoying. He did not need to have the same scene replayed a few times, to follow up on what’s happening, voice acting was stiff and the whole thing was garbage on multiple fronts.
“I’m losing brain cells just looking at this” he said under the breath
“Yeah, that’s the whole point” the person next to him whispered. He jumped, realizing someone had heard him. But to his relief, it turned out it was just another Trainee. Another Prisoner he corrected himself.
Werner smiled and the boy smiled back.
“Nel” he said, pointing at himself. Whisper was so quiet that no one else could hear it, and even Werner wasn’t sure if he heard that or did he read from the lips.
He wanted to answer, but it was just too much of a risk, to chat like that. So he pointed at the floor and traced letters of his name on the ground.
Nel traced them back, and looked at him with “did i got it right” written all over his face. Werner nodded.
That’s how their friendship started.
__________
To be honest, he did not expect to see Nel ever again. The facility was big, and they didn’t get any free time to walk around and conspire.
So when at one meal he felt someone nudging him with elbow, he dismissed it as an accident. But then it happened again and again and he thought someone tried to pick on him. Annoyed, he turned his head and saw Nel smiling at him. He was so surprised he didn’t say anything.
Approaching footsteps janked him out of confusion, and both boys lowered their heads, until the guard went away.
“Didn’t expect see you” Nel said
“Neither,” Werner answered.
Guard was going back now, so they had to stop their chat, and they didn’t say anything to each other until the meal ended.
__________
“was in med school before” he whispered, a few meals later, when they got spots next to each other again.
He thought about what to say a lot. They had time to exchange two to four incomplete sentences at a time, so they had to matter. That would be a good choice, right? A little background and all of that? Werner couldn’t think of any hobbies worth mentioning, and he wanted to mention life before.
“Engineering,” Nel answered.
That was it. Whole conversation to think about. He was in engineering? That must have meant he was probably good with math and that he had a practical mind.
Word to word Werner tried to build Nel’s image in mind.
He was funny, smart and more of a social soul.
That must have been hard on him. Werner was way less needy for human contact and his cell was making him insane. How would that affect someone in greater need of social interactions?
Nel liked music and forest walks.
He tried woodworking before and had a scar from when he fell from a tree in childhood.
Werner awaited every time they would meet again. It was mostly during meals, but they had stumbled onto each other during several other occasions too, and every time, Werner’s mood lifted a bit.
Nel was learning engineering before and even though neither one mentioned it, Werner was sure he wasn’t there voluntarily either.
__________
They got exactly one chance to talk freely to each other.
Werner was in his cell, laying defeated and bruised on the floor, when he saw white light he loathed so much flickering. At first he thought it may be new torture method, forcing him to constantly adjust to changing light, but soon the doors opened and one trainer stormed in. He was wearing a raincoat. It was completely wet, just like his hair and boots.
And the trainer was agitated.
Instantly, Werner knew it was not a part of training.
“Come there” Trainer yelled and he obeyed.
As he was dragged down the corridor, he noticed it wasn’t just his cell that had trouble with the lights.
His mind put the puzzles together. Power issues. The Raincoat. Trainer’s messy hair. There must have been a storm outside. A big storm.
Werner smiled to himself. He almost forgot there was weather outside. How nice it would be to feel the rain and wind on his skin?
He would have to wait for it, though. Right now all he felt on his skin was the concrete floor he was thrown on.
“That’s the last one” harsh sentence was followed by door slam.
Werner looked around. There were a lot of other Trainees there. ‘
that’s the last one’
Maybe it meant that all of them were there? It was plausible.
What’s more, no one was really guarding them.
Trainees could talk freely.
Werner looked around for a familiar face, and…
‘Nel!’ he whisper-called him and made his way through the crowd.
“Here you are!” Nel beamed “do you know what’s going on?”
“I have a suspicion”
It was so weird to be able to talk in full sentences.
There won’t be an opportunity like that second time. They had to make the best of it.
“Nel, listen to me carefully” he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and recited the address “If you ever get out, go there and either meet me or tell my family what happened, okay?”
“Got it”
“Repeat it”
Nel repeated the address
“Can I ask you for the same?” he added
Werner just nodded.
And they stayed together until crisis was gone and facility workers came to separate them.
__________
And then one day, they saw each other for the last time.
They usually meet once every few meals, different groups had different schedules, so it was not a surprise they didn’t get to meet everyday.
dfafhgiprughipuhptuhriphy pain
At first Werner just thought it was a normal break and that they will see each other in a few days.
But then the break was getting longer and longer.
Every meal, every activity in a bigger group he looked for those wavy blonde hair and didn’t see them.
Slowly, the realization settled it.
The realization that it may be the last time.
He saw Nel for the last time, and didn’t even say goodbye, didn’t wish him luck.
He didn’t even give him a last nod or a smile.
It ended… just like that.
With no explanation or notice.
One day they were friends, the other day they were separated forever.
Tw/Cw: Pet whump, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, held captive, brainwashing, kind of sad ending.
Werner first met Nel during the “revard” time. He and other Trainees “earned for behaving”. He already moved out from the ‘useless defiance’ phase to ‘sad and resigned following orders’. Though he did plan on intentionally failing some task, just to make sure, he’s not reallybreaking.
“Revard” turned out to be some sort of movie night. There were no blankets or snacks like on movie nights he was during his freedom days, but it was a break.
Projector started out and some kid’s show started playing. No, not ‘kid’s show’, it was a damn freaking Pet show. Brightly colored characters, simple dialogue spoken in annoying high-pitched voices and each episode having “a lesson” to it. He almost laughed at himself. What did he expect from the brainwashing facility?
And though he didn’t really want to watch this, there was nothing else to do. And who knows if he won’t be asked about the plot or something? It was still so annoying. He did not need to have the same scene replayed a few times, to follow up on what’s happening, voice acting was stiff and the whole thing was garbage on multiple fronts.
“I’m losing brain cells just looking at this” he said under the breath
“Yeah, that’s the whole point” the person next to him whispered. He jumped, realizing someone had heard him. But to his relief, it turned out it was just another Trainee. Another Prisoner he corrected himself.
Werner smiled and the boy smiled back.
“Nel” he said, pointing at himself. Whisper was so quiet that no one else could hear it, and even Werner wasn’t sure if he heard that or did he read from the lips.
He wanted to answer, but it was just too much of a risk, to chat like that. So he pointed at the floor and traced letters of his name on the ground.
Nel traced them back, and looked at him with “did i got it right” written all over his face. Werner nodded.
That’s how their friendship started.
__________
To be honest, he did not expect to see Nel ever again. The facility was big, and they didn’t get any free time to walk around and conspire.
So when at one meal he felt someone nudging him with elbow, he dismissed it as an accident. But then it happened again and again and he thought someone tried to pick on him. Annoyed, he turned his head and saw Nel smiling at him. He was so surprised he didn’t say anything.
Approaching footsteps janked him out of confusion, and both boys lowered their heads, until the guard went away.
“Didn’t expect see you” Nel said
“Neither,” Werner answered.
Guard was going back now, so they had to stop their chat, and they didn’t say anything to each other until the meal ended.
__________
“was in med school before” he whispered, a few meals later, when they got spots next to each other again.
He thought about what to say a lot. They had time to exchange two to four incomplete sentences at a time, so they had to matter. That would be a good choice, right? A little background and all of that? Werner couldn’t think of any hobbies worth mentioning, and he wanted to mention life before.
“Engineering,” Nel answered.
That was it. Whole conversation to think about. He was in engineering? That must have meant he was probably good with math and that he had a practical mind.
Word to word Werner tried to build Nel’s image in mind.
He was funny, smart and more of a social soul.
That must have been hard on him. Werner was way less needy for human contact and his cell was making him insane. How would that affect someone in greater need of social interactions?
Nel liked music and forest walks.
He tried woodworking before and had a scar from when he fell from a tree in childhood.
Werner awaited every time they would meet again. It was mostly during meals, but they had stumbled onto each other during several other occasions too, and every time, Werner’s mood lifted a bit.
Nel was learning engineering before and even though neither one mentioned it, Werner was sure he wasn’t there voluntarily either.
__________
They got exactly one chance to talk freely to each other.
Werner was in his cell, laying defeated and bruised on the floor, when he saw white light he loathed so much flickering. At first he thought it may be new torture method, forcing him to constantly adjust to changing light, but soon the doors opened and one trainer stormed in. He was wearing a raincoat. It was completely wet, just like his hair and boots.
And the trainer was agitated.
Instantly, Werner knew it was not a part of training.
“Come there” Trainer yelled and he obeyed.
As he was dragged down the corridor, he noticed it wasn’t just his cell that had trouble with the lights.
His mind put the puzzles together. Power issues. The Raincoat. Trainer’s messy hair. There must have been a storm outside. A big storm.
Werner smiled to himself. He almost forgot there was weather outside. How nice it would be to feel the rain and wind on his skin?
He would have to wait for it, though. Right now all he felt on his skin was the concrete floor he was thrown on.
“That’s the last one” harsh sentence was followed by door slam.
Werner looked around. There were a lot of other Trainees there. ‘
that’s the last one’
Maybe it meant that all of them were there? It was plausible.
What’s more, no one was really guarding them.
Trainees could talk freely.
Werner looked around for a familiar face, and…
‘Nel!’ he whisper-called him and made his way through the crowd.
“Here you are!” Nel beamed “do you know what’s going on?”
“I have a suspicion”
It was so weird to be able to talk in full sentences.
There won’t be an opportunity like that second time. They had to make the best of it.
“Nel, listen to me carefully” he grabbed his friend by the shoulders and recited the address “If you ever get out, go there and either meet me or tell my family what happened, okay?”
“Got it”
“Repeat it”
Nel repeated the address
“Can I ask you for the same?” he added
Werner just nodded.
And they stayed together until crisis was gone and facility workers came to separate them.
__________
And then one day, they saw each other for the last time.
They usually meet once every few meals, different groups had different schedules, so it was not a surprise they didn’t get to meet everyday.
dfafhgiprughipuhptuhriphy pain
At first Werner just thought it was a normal break and that they will see each other in a few days.
But then the break was getting longer and longer.
Every meal, every activity in a bigger group he looked for those wavy blonde hair and didn’t see them.
Slowly, the realization settled it.
The realization that it may be the last time.
He saw Nel for the last time, and didn’t even say goodbye, didn’t wish him luck.
He didn’t even give him a last nod or a smile.
It ended… just like that.
With no explanation or notice.
One day they were friends, the other day they were separated forever.
A little one, without as much in the way of violence. Nonetheless,
Content Warnings: Kidnapping, captivity, first aid; references to drugging, injury, torture, acceptance of captivity. victim blaming, vaguely.
“So who are you, her lapdog?”
Adrianspoke as the smaller boy carefully untied them from the chair and unpacked a small medical kit. He didn’t immediately respond, and was careful to set the sharp and bloodied wires aside.
They sat together on the polished concrete floor.
“…I’mJamie. Or just Jay.
Um, this might hurt a little? But infections are worse..”
He quietly disinfected and bandaged the cuts on their arms with clean gauze, while Adrian leaned against the stationary chair and took a minute to catch their breath.
“..did you get here the same way as me, or are you here willingly?”
Jay had reached up to clean the cuts on their face, but paused at this, and looked away.
The pause dragged on long enough that Adrian began to worry that they’d made a horrible mistake, and then,
“….both, I guess.”
Adrian thought about what that was supposed to mean while having the blood wiped off their face.
They looked at Jay’s face as he carefully cleaned and bandaged their cuts. He was very pale, so the small scattering of scars there were barely visible. All of them had healed well, a long time ago.
They spoke softly for the first time since waking up in this place, “….been a while since you stopped fighting, huh?”
“It’s not bad, really.. Most days are just nice.”
As he reached up to tape up the last of the gashes on their forehead, Adrian caught a glimpse underJamie’s loose white t-shirt and saw a clean wound dressing on his abdomen. ‘Most days’, he’d said. They didn’t ask about it. Not now.
“If you do what she says, I mean…”
He was looking away again. A worry suddenly occurred to Adrian.
“Would you help her hurt me? If she told you to?”
“I mean, she wouldn’t, not norm—”“Really? Seriously?”“-no, not..
..only if I had upset her too. I don’t like hurting people. I don’t like seeing people hurt..”
He mumbled the next part as he was packing up the medical kit and turning to leave, but they heard it clearly enough in the quiet.
“..please don’t do this to yourself too much more..”
Adrian touched their clean bandages as they sat on the polished, blood-dappled concrete a while, thinking. They couldn’t make out the conversation happening in another part of the basement.
Jamie came back, briefly, carrying a couple of blankets, and dropping them off by the door. But he left the room again, seeming skittish, as Lydia came to stand by the door.
“Isn’tmy bluejaysweet?”
Adrian tried to ignore that and stood to face her. They weren’t bound anymore.
Theycould rush her, they were a little bigger and probably stronger than this lady, but she was standing just outside the door, holding the unsheathed dagger casually by her side. That would hurt. Maybe once she turns around…
“So are you just going to keep me here forever? Is that the idea?”
“For as long as you survive. As I said, this is your home now; do try to get comfortable.”
“You say that as if me surviving isn’t completely up to you.”
Lydia smiled faintly and shrugged.
“I do my best, but things happen. And if you’re determined to get yourself killed, via suicide-by-me or on your own, it’s difficult to do anything about that.
Difficult, but, not impossible.”
The expression on her face when she said the last part made them recoil slightly.
Then she switched back to her false-chipper tone from the park. It being fake made their skin crawl, and she knew it.
“Anyway! I know you just woke up, but you’re still not allowed out of this room. Try to get a little rest while we make you something to eat. I promise not to inject any sedatives into it this time!”
She didn’t turn around to leave, and didn’t wait for a response. She just tossed the door shut with a smile.
Ugh, this chapter was so tricky to write. I wanted to use several different povs and stuff, but I think this works. So here is the next chapter! Part 53.Masterlist.
CW: a lot of pain, and descriptions of pain, restraints, talk about old injuries, lots of threats, electrocution (shock collar), knives, guns, choking, whips (some of this is threatened, some is used), a lot of blood, intimate/creepy whumper, multiple whumpees, (Splice is just an all-around dick, sorry.)
- - -
There was fire coursing through his veins.
It was no more than a dull warmth- an ache- that traveled up the back of his spine, and along each and every cut and mark that trailed it’s way around his body. His ankles were still throbbing- swollen and purple- but he couldn’t feel much pain.
From his small amount of coherence, it didn’t seem like he could feel his hands or his feet. He hung limply in the chains around his wrists- each breath a labored effort as he tried to get his lungs to pump against the strain of his own body weight.
Splice was speaking.
He was retelling- and going over every injury- every single scar- and story and torture session- and moment of pain and humiliation. And his friends were listening to every second of it.
Micah, was listening to every second of it.
Micah had already seen the lesson Splice had taught him. The conditioned responses that he answered without hesitation. The answers that he had come to believe.
That he belonged to Splice. That he was nothing more than a tool, or a toy. To be used as the man saw it- all because he deserved it. Because he was nothing.
The man had taken him once.
He had found his freedom- and for a moment- a brief period of time, Andrew believed he could maybe find happiness again. He could maybe get better- and recover.
And then it was all stripped away once more.
Except now his friends were here too.
It wasn’t just his life he was sacrificing. It wasn’t just his body that was being tortured and beaten- it wasn’t just his mind that would be broken and shattered.
So as he heard Micah crying- as he saw the man towering over him- a- a gun, pressed to the side of his face and the pleas and begs of mercy that came from his friend- Andrew knew he had to do something.
“Please!” He had cried. “Please don’t- don’t hurt him.” He had said he’d do anything. Sacrifice himself- give up what little he had left- as long as his friend remained safe. But it had worked.
Tears leaked from Andrew’s eyes as he held the gun in between his teeth- his lips closed around the cool metal- his jaw aching after a few moments from the strain.
His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as fingers brushed over his body. He felt the man’s hand trail up the soft flesh of his stomach- fingering over the old stab wound as he explained what had happened. It trailed across the lines over his ribs that he had made with the knife- traveling up the line across his chest. The line that tore right down the middle- from where he had been carved open and patched back together from the inside out.
Andrew’s breath hitched as his wrists were grabbed and his back was turned.
He felt shame blush over his cheeks as the hands carded down his back. Trailing over every whip mark- every slash of the blade, every sign of a beating.
And then Micah was screaming.
Andrew couldn’t make out the words he was saying- but he could hear the pain, and the desperation in the other boy’s voice.
As Micah cried and shouted- Andrew could feel the shame- and the humiliation blossoming over his skin. His stomach churned- his face flushing and a sweat dripping more fiercely from his skin.
He knew the brand was sitting there- right in between his shoulders. It was all too painful of a reminder. It was a permanent reminder of who he belonged to.
Andrew heard a few things in the events that followed. There was a small conversation between Splice and Micah, that he couldn’t quite make out- a whispered plea- and then pain shot through his jaw.
He heard a loud bang- a strangled scream- a low whine- and then something was shoved in his mouth once more.
He felt a stream of spit down his chin as the familiar leather of the muzzle wrapped around his face. It took a minute to realize the whine was him- his jaw was on fire.
Another scream drew his attention away- and through his blurry tear-filled vision he saw spurts of blood on the floor- he could tell that was Justin on the ground-
He quickly put the events together and his stomach jumped in his throat- but the muzzle wouldn’t let anything get anywhere.
Splice could read Andrew’s thoughts through his eyes as he turned to look at the man.
“Oh don’t be so upset- it’s just his shoulder.” Splice stated. “Now, like I said- is anyone going to keep me from doing what I want?”
Andrew shook his head and the man turned towards Micah.
He shook his head lightly- and then he turned to Justin.
The boy was lying on his back, gripping his shoulder- trying not to writhe in pain as he grit his teeth.
“What about you- hmm?” The man taunted- coming to stand over top of the where the boy lay. “Are you gonna stay down- where you belong?”
“You- you bastard-” Justin groaned out. “You shot me!”
“Oh I’m well aware of that. But I won’t be tolerating anymore outbursts- or attempts at an attack- or anything similar, understand?”
“Go to hell-”
Splice shook his head- and placed his shoe on top of the wound- pressing down slightly.
Justin’s head slammed back into the floor with a crack and he gasped back a scream.
“Get- get off-” he wheezed. “-just stop– aaggh!”
Splice dug the heel of his shoe further into the wound- blood pooling underneath the boy as his head arched back in a scream.
The chains above Andrew’s arms where he hung rattled as he thrashed about. He could barely see or understand what was happening- but he could hear the screams.
“Stop it!” Micah yelled.
Justin was thrashing about from the pain- his face going white- and he let out a strangled gasp when the man finally let off.
“Alright- alright- I’ll let him bleed out naturally.” Splice held his hands in the air and Micah breathed a sigh of relief.
Justin glanced to where Ali was curled up on the floor- she was slightly shaking- arms wrapped tight around her head but she hadn’t moved or muttered a sound. Justin somehow managed to pull himself closer- reaching out a shaking hand to brush against her shoulder before he collapsed.
“Stop- please- for god’s sake-” Micah pleaded. “What do you want? What do you want from us?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The man laughed. “I want him. I have wonderful things planned, things that I already started to accomplish- when you all had to come in and interrupt. After all, I wasn’t expecting you all for at least another day.”
“What- what plan?” Micah mumbled. He needed to keep the man talking. The more that he talked- the less he could do to hurt anyone.
“Well, the first part is getting you all out of the way. You know, crush his hope and all chances of rescue.“ He chuckled to himself. "It seems like I already have two down, and you’re the only one left.” Splice knelt down in front of the boy- tilting his chin up with the tip of his finger. “So, how would you like to be taken out, hmm?”
Micah’s mind was racing. His heart lodged in his throat- his boyfri-best friend, was chained up- hanging by his arms in front of him. His only other help was unconscious or bleeding out.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a flash of movement from behind the man. He didn’t look at it for long- not wanting to give anything away but he could feel Mickie’s presence. At least she was still here.
For her sake he wished she was at least able to escape- to save herself.
Micah’s eyes met the man in front of him.
“A knife, perhaps?” He stated. “I could cut you up into little pieces- or- or carve lines in your skin and watch you bleed out.” A thin- bony hand wrapped around the boy’s neck- resting right above the collar. Micah’s eyes grew wide. “Or I could strangle the air out of you until there’s nothing left. Leaving you gasping and struggling until your heart stops. How’s that sound?”
Micah’s mind was racing as the hand cinched tighter around his throat. He managed to focus on the man- and not the movement going on behind him. He had to keep his attention.
Splice dropped him to the floor- leaving him gasping. Unable to prop himself up with his hands behind his back, he lay on the ground- chest heaving for air.
“Or- or, and this one is my favorite. I could beat you.” Splice moved towards the cart and Micah held his breath- hoping Mickie would stay out of sight. The man picked up a small object and turned back towards the boy with the item poised in his hand. “How do you think you’d handle a whip, hmm?” He taunted. “How many hits before you begged for mercy, or for death?”
It cracked against the ground and Micah scrambled backwards with a soft yelp.
“This can make even the strongest men wail. On his first beating, he took about twenty lashes. Most of them after that were only ten- or fifteen. But, he could barely make it through nine to the backs of his legs this last time.”
Micah tried to push away that visual. He could already see all of the scars.
“What- what other options are there?” Micah asked.
“Pardon?”
“If you’re going to kill me, and I get a say in it- I’d like to know all my options.” Micah’s eyes darted back and forth between the man- the whip in his hand- and Mickie- who was inching closer towards Andrew. “I’m sure- I’m sure you can be a little more creative.”
Splice stepped back- almost as if he was offended.
“Oh- I have many ways to make you beg for mercy- to make you wish for death.” He picked up the boy’s face in his hand, forcing Micah high on his knees. “Let’s start with the knife though, shall we? And then we can explore our options from there.”
Micah saw the glint of the pocketknife before it could meet his skin. Before he could protest or say anything about the other options- it still had flecks of dried blood along the base and the handle- and the man twirled it around so effortlessly in his fingers.
“Well, it’s sure nice to have a clean slate. The challenge is where to start.” Splice taunted. He glanced at Andrew- a look of pain on his face- his eyes clenched shut- arms shaking. “You two sure make a cute couple, don’t you think?”
“Excuse me?” Micah looked towards Andrew- his face tilted towards the ceiling- sweat dripping off his pale skin.
“Quite a handsome pair. It’d be a shame if something ruined it, hmm?”
“What do yo-” His voice lodged in his throat as one hand wrenched his head backwards by his hair. He gasped- eyes wide towards the ceiling. “Please- no, I-”
His pleas were useless as he felt the tip of the blade against his skin.
Splice was an expert with the knife.
He knew where all the primary veins were. All the points that could make you bleed out in an instant- or lead to a slow and painful death.
As the knife slashed through Micah’s face, the man was careful to avoid his eye- instead starting at his temple and cutting down to his chin.
The boy screamed- blood swarming into his vision and pooling into his mouth. He gasped and crashed to the floor as the man let him fall.
“There we go-” The man taunted. “Now you’ll have some scars to match.”
Micah curled into himself- desperate to stem the bleeding or at least wipe it from his eyes but his hands were still restrained behind his back. He whimpered in frustration and pain- trying to pull himself back onto his knees.
“Why-” A small voice piped up. It was Justin- his voice breathy and weak through the pain. “-why do you feel the need to hurt everyone?”
“Excuse me?”
“What are you compensating for?” He had managed to prop himself up on an elbow- his good arm sustaining his weight as he glared up at the man- a bit of his pale hair falling into his eyes.
Splice stood for a moment, staring across the room to the wall behind the boy. He slowly wiped the blood off of his knife on the edge of his sleeve, and then a slight smirk came over his face.
“Why?” He tilted his head up. “Hmm? You ask why, or what I’m compensating for. Funny thing is, I could ask you all the same thing.
Why do you feel the need to constantly try to prove yourself? Knowing you’ll never be good enough for you father, his company, or his money?” The man stood in front of where Justin was- his body visibly shaking. He tilted his chin up with the tip of the knife. “How does it feel knowing that that’s all you’re good for? That they only keep you around for your money, hmm?”
“That- that’s not true- you don’t-”
“How do you know she hasn’t brainwashed you, hmm? That she isn’t controlling you just to get to your father’s funds?”
“No- she wouldn’t-”
“Well of course, you wouldn’t know if you were being brainwashed, would you?” The man moved to stand over the girl’s limp body.
“Shut up- you don’t- you don’t know her-” Justin’s breathing was getting more ragged with every word.
“Well, probably not like you do, but I know enough. I mean look at her, she’s useless. Didn’t even get a chance to put up a fight.” The man chuckled as Justin shook- trying desperately to use what little strength he had to fight back. “It’s pathetic really, she should be the most powerful, and here she is-” he nudged her in the side with the tip of his shoe. She lay still.
“Leave her alone!” The boy screamed. He lunged at the man- catching him by the ankles. The man stumbled a bit before Justin crashed back to the ground.
“Oh will you be quiet!” The man screamed. He kicked Justin hard in the side, sending him reeling. The boy shrieked as his shoulder crashed into the ground- blood leaking steadily from his wound. Splice sighed, and pushed a button on his little remote.
Justin’s head slammed back into the ground- his eyes rolling backwards as he gasped for air. The shocks wreaked their havoc through his body until he was finally able to scream- letting out a heaving breath. But then they picked up once more. He kept the control on a steady rhythm- leaving Justin writhing in agony for a moment, and then finally letting him breathe for a few seconds before the electricity started up again.
Splice turned to look back at Micah with a chuckle- his eyes peeked out from underneath the blood- sweat, and hair that matted his face. “Honestly, the only person I can think of that’s more pathetic is his sister. After all, she’s got the same potential little Carrot Top over here does, and yet she didn’t even bother to come to his rescue. What, was she scared?”
“Don’t- don’t underestimate her-” Micah chuckled.
“What, what is she going to do? I mean she practically cowered behind the rest of them the first time we met. Didn’t even try to help.”
“She’s stronger- than- than you think.”
Splice laughed shaking his head. He knelt in front of Micah and held out the remote- selecting the option for Micah’s collar. He hooked a finger underneath, holding the boy up as he winced- the small prongs digging further into the back of his neck.
“She may be strong, but are you?”
Micah screamed. His back arched and his wrists tugged on the chains tying them behind him. He fell backwards in the man’s grasp- held slightly above the ground by his throat.
“You- you bi-”
“Ah- ah- language now.” Splice cut him off with a hand over his mouth- smearing the blood that had soaked his lips and chin.
Micah cursed and screamed behind the man’s hand- his body spasming with the shocks.
“Should I turn it up?”
Micah shook his head furiously- he curled his legs in towards his chest as Splice dropped him onto his back.
“Good. Now be a good boy, or I’ll set off their collars as well.” Splice stood up and turned towards Andrew as he spoke. “As fun as that would be for little Andy, I don’t think-”
Splice stopped- glancing at the ground where he had set the gun- and then up at Andrew. The boy’s face was even more pale- he looked nearly unconscious- but the chains he had been hanging from were lowered- his feet dragging against the floor.
He turned around frantically, back to Micah- to Justin- who were both still writhing in pain- the shocks coursing through their bodies.
“He’s right you know-” Mickie stated. Splice turned towards the sound. “You shouldn’t underestimate me.”
And then a loud bang exploded throughout the room.
(This series is created from the prompts given by @summer-of-whump) (Also, Shea is pronounced [shAY])
CW: Child whumpee, kidnapped, ‘it’ as a pronoun, head injury, child abuse, manipulation, fire, lightly implied burns, implied death
Shea screamed, covering his head as flaming debris fell nearby.
“Shea!” The boy looked up to see his mother running towards him. She scooped him up into her arms and ran.
“Momma, what’s happening?” Shea squeaked, hiding his face. “I’m scared!”
“It’s going to be okay, baby. We just need to get out.” His mother’s voice was calmer than it was a moment before, although it still held a note of panic. “You remember the fire drills? It’s just like that. It’s going to be okay.”
Shea dared to peek back at the community. The fires were everywhere. People were running, some flying. To Shea’s horror, several people’s wings were actually onfire. His own mother’s wings were blackened in places.
“Momma, what happened to your wings?”
“Don’t worry about it baby— I’m fine. Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
“I’m okay.” And Shea hid his face again as his mother continued to run deeper into the forest.
Only a short couple of minutes had passed when Shea felt the unmistakable feeling of rising in the air. It didn’t feel like flying, however— the incline felt sharper. His mother screamed and held onto Shea tighter.
Shea tried to wriggle free of his mother’s hold to see what was happening. “What?? What’s happening??”
Cruel laughter broke out from the trees around them and Shea managed to catch sight of the net surrounding him and his mother before his mother managed to pull him back against her, shielding his eyes. “Don’t move.” She whispered, her voice breaking.
Shea stopped moving, confused. He felt his mother pull her wings to surround him.
“Well would you look at that? We actually caught one of them!” Someone said from the ground.
“Who are you people? What do you want?” Shea’s mother’s voice sounded harsh and a little scared.
“Damn. Its wings must’ve caught fire. This one’s as good as worthless.” Another voice said.
“Best to just leave it and check the other traps. If we don’t catch anything else, this one’ll have to do.”
Shea heard footsteps begin to walk away. “Momma, I’m scared.” He whispered and the footsteps stopped.
“Shhh…” His mother held onto him tighter.
“You got somebody else up there?” One of the voices asked.
Shea’s mother didn’t answer.
“Cut it down. I think I heard something.” The person said and the footsteps came closer again.
Shea’s mother was trembling now, whispering prayers under her breath.
There was a sudden drop and the net hit the ground with Shea and his mother inside it.
Shea couldn’t understand what happened next. There was movement, his mother was yelling, squeezing him so tight he could hardly breathe. One of the other people yelled for her to let go. The next thing Shea knew, someone was pulling him away from his mother. He kicked and yelled, trying to hold onto her, but they were separated a moment later.
“Shea! Shea, you have to get away— you have to run— Shea—” One of the other people— Shea could see now that there were three— hit his mother over the head and she closed her eyes. When they let go of her, she fell to the ground.
“Momma!” Shea screamed, struggling to get away from the person who was now holding on tight to his arm. “Momma— Let me go! I want my mom!”
“Now this one’s worth this whole trip. Its wings are perfectly intact and it’s only— what— seven years old maybe?”
“How old are you, kid?”
Shea didn’t answer, tears streaming down his face as he tried to pry the person’s hand off his arm. “Let go!”
The person holding Shea slapped him hard across the face and Shea stopped for a moment, shocked. No one had ever hit him before.
“You were asked a question, brat. How old are you?” The person demanded.
Shea’s lip quivered as he tried not to cry harder. “I just want my mom— Why did you hit me? It h-hurt!”
“I’ll hit you again if you don’t answer the fucking question.” The person threatened.
“I’m six years old.” Shea whimpered, shielding his cheek with his free hand. “Please don’t hit me again— It really hurt!”
“Just do as you’re told and I won’t have any reason to hit you, now will I?” The person started to pull Shea away. “Come on. We can check the other traps once we get this one secured.”
“No!” Shea started to pull again. “No— I want my mom!”
“Shut up!” The person yanked Shea by the hair, making him scream. “If you keep trying to make things difficult, I’ll pick you up and fucking carry you. Just walk. Your mom isn’t going with us.”
Shea stumbled as they tried to keep up with the fast pace of the adults. He didn’t want to get hurt more, so he had stopped trying to get away, but he was still crying and yelling for his mom by the time the person let him stop walking. The person tied up Shea’s hands and tied them to the outside of a cage.
“Somebody has to stay with this one while the rest of the traps are checked and it’s not going to be me. We won’t get paid if I get annoyed and kill the brat before we make it back.” The person said after they finished tying Shea up.
“I’ll stay with the kid.” One of the others said. “You two go check traps and come back with the rest of the group.”
The other two nodded and left into the woods again.
“Hey, kid.” The person who stayed behind crouched next to Shea. “What’s your name? Did I hear your mom call you Shea?”
Shea nodded, sniffling and trying to wipe his tears off his face.
The person nodded. “Good to know. Sorry about Thorne. He really doesn’t like kids. Or the Winged. Or honestly really anyone. He shouldn’t have hit you.”
“What did I do that made him a-angry at me?”
“Literally anything you would have done except for coming with us quietly would have made him angry. None of us expected that from you. You are just a kid. And we aren’t taking your mom with us.”
“Where… Where am I going..? Why can’t my mom come with me? Who areyou?”
“My name is Jade. Your mom burned her wings in the fire, that’s why she can’t come. We’re only taking people with complete sets of wings. Seeing as your whole little village just burned down, we’re giving you a new place to live. Aren’t you glad?”
“I-I just want my mom…” Shea sniffed again.
“I know it’ll be hard for a while, but you’ll be okay. After all, you’re just a kid. You’ll bounce back fast. Don’t worry about your mom. She’s going to be okay too. She just can’t come with you.”
Shea fidgeted with the ropes around their wrists in silence as he and Jade waited.
At last, there were several footsteps. “Jade. The fires weren’t really a great idea, it turns out. Most of them died or have incomplete sets now. We did find this one, though.”
“Is it alive?” Jade stood up and Shea tried to look and see behind them, but the ropes wouldn’t let them turn that far.
“It’s alive, but injured. I don’t know if it’ll live, but it has a complete set, so it’s at least worth a shot.”
“Fine. Put it in the cage. I’ll get this one in.” Jade came back to Shea and untied him from the cage, leading him around to another side. “Get in.” Jade said, opening the cage door.
Shea hesitated.
“Shea,” Jade said softly. “You need to get in before Thorne decides to see what’s taking so long. As long as you listen to me, he won’t hurt you again, okay?”
Shea nodded quickly and Jade helped him into the cage.
After Shea was in the cage, a girl was put in as well. She was sleeping and there was a big bump on her head. “Aubrey?” Shea whispered, sitting next to her.
“Do you know her?” Jade asked.
Shea nodded. “Sh-she’s my cousin.”
“Her name is Aubrey? Do you know how old she is?”
“I think she’s…” Shea thought for a minute. “I think she might be twenty?”
“Okay.” Jade nodded, closing the cage door. “We’re going to leave now, okay?” Jade didn’t wait for an answer as they climbed into the car.
The cage sat on the bed of a trailer and Shea was startled when it began to move.
Aubrey’s eyes opened a little. “Are they gone?” She whispered.
“Aubrey! You’re okay!!”
“Not really.” She muttered, closing her eyes again. “Are they gone?”
“Um…” Shea looked at the car. “They’re in the car. They said they were taking us to a new home.”
“This is really bad…”
“… Why is it so bad?”
“Shea, if they take us somewhere outside the forest, you’re never going to see your mom again— if she’s even alive still. They started…” Aubrey coughed. “… They started those fires. Half the community is dead and the other half will never fly again. We’re probably the only two people who made it out alive with both wings.”
“… How did you get hurt..?”
“I… I don’t remember. Something probably fell on my head. I don’t know. Maybe I fell from somewhere… All I know is my head hurts and I’m really dizzy and it’s getting kind of hard to breathe…” Aubrey opened her eyes and looked at Shea, undoubtedly seeing the worry in his eyes. “I’ll be okay, short stuff. But we really have to get away from these people if we can.”
They shove her down and Ariadne turns her head to stop her face from hitting the tiles but she doesn’t resist. It’ll only get her another kick in the ribs, she’d rather not waste the energy. She can smell the stuff they use to clean the tiles - the same stuff she used to use on near-identical tiles - filling her nostrils with chemical odour and her head with unwanted memories. She knows what’s coming.
