#recaptured whumpee
Isaiah and the Professor part 2
He looks down in horror at his leg that was still being held in place by a fist vlenched around his ankle. The stench of burnt flesh clings to his nostrils and the heat was intense.
The pain even more so.
He had made the horrible mistake of trusting the Professor, not once but twice now.
Curse Dragon, why did he have to suggest him of all people.
Tears slip as he remembers the desperation he felt to get his old memories back, to understand who he was. Claw was an empty shell of a man that had once been in his place. He wanted to know who he was.
He feels himself slip into unconsciousness as his thoughts wander. He was sure there was a way to get his memories back. There had to be. He couldn’t bear a life of not knowing himself.
The rebel leader had told him he could get them back here. He was a rather agreeable fellow, as charismatic as one might expect. Claw met him for tea on Fridays.
His eyes close but he is suddenly jolted back into the waking world when the brand on his leg is prodded by the man still wielding the iron in the other and.
“Wake up, Isaiah. I still have a lot of work for you to do.”
His wound is jabbed again and the Professor laughs as he lets out a scream.
“One on each leg now, Isaiah. You should know if you pull any more stunts like you did last time, I’ll put one right in your forehead so everyone can know who you belong to.”
Claw takes gasping breaths as he looks down at his legs, each horrible marked with the initials T.P. One brand still burning bright red.
He should have remained nameless. He never should have accepted the offer. His memories aren’t worth having to go through the hell of being the Professor’s pet again.
But he never could have known. It was an inescapable trap from the start.
The Professor presses a kiss to his forehead, a mock display of affection. Claw’s eyes sting with tears as he feels heat rising up him with humiliation.
“I can’t wait to put you to work again. We’re going to have so much fun together.”
Taglist:@winedark-whump@whumpworld
The Same Bed: Nat Yoder
CW: Referenced hand whump, kidnapped, recaptured whumpee, beatings, blood, ptsd/trauma flashback, creepy whumper, implied noncon reference
The Same Bed: Part One: Jake|Part Two: Krista|Part Three: Chris|Part Four: Vincent|Part Five: Antoni|Interlude | Part Six: Nat
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The car rumbles under Nat’s feet, a slight soft vibration that comes right up through the bare soles and travels up her legs. She flexes her toes a little, enjoying this one piece of free movement that she isn’t allowed in any other way.
Her heart beats, under the weight of flannel and cotton, as steady as she can make it, which isn’t to say she isn’t shaking or that her pulse doesn’t race. There’s only so much she can do to stop those automatic responses to her situation.
Nat’s fingers have gone numb behind her back, pressed between her spine and the slight cushiony softness of the backseat. Sharp-edged plastic digs in along the little rounded bone on her wrist on one side, then the other, as she tries to shift and find a more comfortable position. She forces herself to move, to stretch fingers out and then rub them against the leather. They tingle, painfully, but the seats are soft as lambswool, probably custom and cost more than Nat’s entire truck is worth.
Jameson’s head is heavy against her shoulder, but she doesn’t try to ask him to sit up or to move. She knows his skin is tacky with blood by now, and for her it’s enough just to hear the steady inhale and exhale that proves he’s at least still breathing.
Hehas to keep breathing.
The blindfold bites against her nose and cheekbones, digging in so tightly she’ll be marked with red if Owen Grant ever takes it off. So far, they just… drive. They have to have left Berras - he’s driven for so long and without taking any turns that would suggest he was just trying to get her lost in her own city, the place she knows best.
No… no. She isn’t that lucky, not this time.
Owen, in his smooth shining luxury car, is leaving Berras and taking them somewhere else. Nat thinks she knows where he’s going, and that makes the cold pulse of fear inside her deepen. The farther they go, the less she can promise that the only thing she could think of - with Owen screaming and a gun in her face - will actually work.
Jameson coughs, a heavy rasping sound - the first noise he’s made in at least an hour. She thinks. Without the ability to see, without knowing where she is or where he is going, she has no idea how long she’s even been in this car.
It had been, what, eight-thirty when Owen Grant showed up at the front door? Something in the heavy weight of exhaustion in her mind makes her think it’s midnight by now, or even later. Where are they going?
You know where, Nat’s mind whispers to her.
Jameson goes quiet, for a long time. “Nah. He’s a good kid.”
God, Jameson is fucking killing me!!! I thought about quoting everything he said and did so far, but this!!! Nnnnnnnnnngh!
“Come on, Jake,” She whispers, and tries to let herself relax and rest while they wait for Owen to come back. “Come on.”
Please talk to Keira.
God fucking damnit!!!! I swear, aí kept finding so many things I wanted to comment on, but I couldn’t stop reading to do so. This fucking chapter kept me on the edge of my seat the whole fucking time!
Owen is absolutely fucking unhinged! And a Jameson who can’t even manage anger breaks my heart!
I’m so invested in this arc and I still don’t really know how they’re gonna solve this whole shit, I am so excited to know! This is incredible, I love it so, so much, Ash!!!!
