Whew, I managed to do @whumptober2021 - for a second time! It’s an entirely Untamed/MDZS whumptober with a variety of pairings/characters and in total just above 100k
✨ All fics are linked below the cut or can be found in my whumptober 2021 collection ✨
(Please see tumblr and ao3 for detailed content warnings)
/ = Pairing || & = Gen/Character-Focus||⭐= Personal faves/recs
No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO
“You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound - Jiang Cheng & Wei Wuxian - 1.8k - tumblr||ao3
Ōuyáng Zǐzhēn glances up to his shackled wrists with a swallow. He tugs at them but they hold firm, not budging. Well, it would have surprised him if he had been able to simply slip free of his restraints. But maybe if he tries harder? He pulls again at the shackles before grimacing at the sharp edges of metal digging into the skin of his wrists.
Note: Here it is. The last one. I know I’m a day late. (well 2 days late since it’s almost 4 in the morning). But here it is.
Luigi pushed Amber forward. “Keep running.” They were almost there. Maybe pops wasn’t such a paranoid bastard when he built a panic room. Luigi glanced backwards. They managed to get a decent headstart. It was a massive takeover. The men were too well-armed to be rebels. Who the fuck were these people?
Gunshots resounded behind them. Fuck. “Don’t fucking stop.” They had to get to the panic room and then they would think of what to do next. Only the three of them could open the door. No one had access; not even the head of security. They just had to get in. The both of them had to get in there and then they’d figure something out.
A pit settled in Luigi’s gut knowing it was just the two of them. Where the hell did Pavi run off to? He wasn’t in GeneCo; that much Luigi knew. But he had no idea where his idiot brother went. He didn’t need his brother coming back to this mess. Or worse… What if someone followed him and-
A sharp pain shot through his back. Luigi collapsed forward.
“Brother!”
His back hurt. He had to stand. He had to move.
His sister stared at him in fear. Her eyes darted behind him then back at him. She turned and ran towards the panic room door. She keyed in the code. The door flew open. “Brother.” She turned towards him.
Luigi couldn’t move. No matter how hard he tried to force himself to move. He tried pushing himself upwards but that was all he could do.
Amber looked up behind him once more and her eyes widened. She ran into the panic room. She refused to meet his eyes as the doors slammed shut.
Something clenched in Luigi’s chest. He would have told her to get in there but… To see her leave him so willingly. Fuck. They were all out for themselves. Why should he have expected any different? Damnit. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.
Pain shot through his hand.
“Drop the gun.”
Luigi closed his eyes and released the gun.
“Get to your feet.”
Luigi turned his head and just glared. There were a dozen armed men before him.
The man with his foot on his hand reached out and grabbed his hair. He pulled. “I said get up.”
Luigi grunted. He couldn’t move. But fuck if he was telling them that. “Fuck you.”
The man pulled him upwards.
Pain shot through his back. A gun was placed at his chin “Fuck you.”
“I don’t need you. Open the panic room.”
They needed Amber. Why would the rebels need her? A mass slaughter proved their point. No, they were too well-armed for rebels. “I can’t open the door. Once its shut with someone inside, only the person inside can open it.” Luigi sneered.
“You’re lying.” The man dug his finger into the bullet wound in his back.
“Fuck.” Pain shot through his entire spine. A sharp shooting pain shot through his legs. He couldn’t move his legs. “Why the fuck would I lie?”
The man cocked the gun. “Then we don’t need you.”
“Wait.” Another man said and sauntered up to him. “I have an idea.”
***
Amber sat on the ground, hugging her knees to her. She left her brother out there. She left her brother to die. She hugged her knees closer. She left her brother out there to die.
No. He was shot. He wouldn’t have made it. He couldn’t even stand. She couldn’t have dragged him into this room. There wasn’t anything she could do. She would have died as well.
Excuses. All excuses. She was scared. She didn’t want to get caught. So she ran. She ran and left her brother out there. She left her brother out there alone.
Her watch rang. “Incoming call from Luigi Largo.”
He got out. He must have found somewhere to hide. He was alright. She answered the watch. “Brother.”
“Amber Sweet.”
Her heart fell. That wasn’t her brother. They had her brother. They had her brother. She gave them her brother.
“Ms Sweet. I think you understand the significance of me having this watch.”
“Is…is he alive?”
“For now.” There was a pause and she heard her brother curse in pain.
Amber closed her eyes. They had her brother. “What do you want?”
“I just need you to open the door.”
If she opened the door, they would kill her. They needed her because she was CEO. They needed her dead.
“Are you listening to me, Ms Sweet?” The voice was cold, professional.
If she opened the door, they would kill the both of them. They would not leave Luigi alive. They would kill them both.
“If you don’t open the door, I will kill your brother.”
“That slut doesn’t give a fuck about me.”
Amber clenched her eyes shut. Tears pricked at her eyes. Brother, that’s not true. That’s not true.
“Ms Sweet.” The voice warned.
“You won’t let him go. If I open this door, you won’t let him go.”
“I just need you Ms Sweet. I have no use for your brother.”
He was lying. What would killing only her do? The rebels would wipe them all out. He was lying. “I don’t believe you.”
“Have it your way, Ms Sweet.” A gun cocked.
No. No. Let him go. Please let him go. Please.
A scream of pain echoed through the line.
Amber froze. What were they… what were they doing?
Another scream.
Amber’s blood ran cold.
“Are you going to open the door now, Ms Sweet? We have plenty of time.”
Amber’s lip trembled. No. Not this. They were torturing her brother. They were trying to force her to open the door.
“Ms Sweet, are you even there?”
Another scream echoed through the line.
Amber whimpered.
“I heard that.”
Amber clenched her eyes shut. No. They couldn’t know it was affecting her. They would hurt him more. They would hurt him more.
Another scream. This one worse than any of the others.
Amber clamped her hand over her mouth. Tears streamed down her face. Stop this. Please stop this. Stop this.
“I told you.” The voice was trembling. “That fucking slut doesn’t give a fuck about me. End this now.”
Amber slammed her head against her knee. That isn’t true, brother. That isn’t true.
“You want this to end, tell your sister to open the fucking door.”
Luigi screamed again.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
“How…do you expect me…to convince her?”
“Figure it out.”
Luigi screamed again.
Amber clamped her hand tighter as sobs fought to escape her lips.
“Fine. If your sister won’t open the door, then you open it.”
“I…told you. I can’t…open it…from this side…once there’s someone…in there.”
Liar. That son of a bitch was lying. That son of a bitch was- Amber’s shoulder’s shook as the quiet sobs wrecked her body.
“Then pray your sister finds mercy.”
Luigi screamed once more.
“Stop.” She choked out. “Please just stop. I’ll open the door. Please just stop.” Full blown sobs wrecked her as she no longer forced herself to stay silent.
“That’s all you had to-” The man was cut off. “Mother-”
A shot rang out.
A chill ran down Amber’s spine. “Lu?”
“Fuck. Find Pavi Largo. NOW!”
Fear filled Amber’s gut. “Lu?”
“End that fucking call.”
“Brother…”
The call was cut off.
“No.” Amber couldn’t breathe. A choked cry of pain escaped her lips. “No.” She pulled her knees tighter to her. “No.”
***
Pavi watched his sister draped over the couch. She was humming to herself. He approached her and she didn’t react to him. Her pupils were constricted. She was high…again. He sighed and sat in the armchair opposite her. He wanted to talk to her when she was sober but…she was never sober. Not since the attack on GeneCo.
Guilt filled Pavi’s chest and he forced it back. He should have been here. Maybe things would have turned out differently if he was here. He had taken the day off and was at the other side of town when he heard what had happened. He rushed back to GeneCo but the GeneCops didn’t let him go inside. He could only wait outside; not knowing if his siblings were alive or dead.
And then when they took back GeneCo…
The GeneCops found him first. They tried to cover him up; told him not to look. He can still see his brother’s broken body: bones broken, fingers cut off, skin flayed. He was already stiff by the time they got to him. But Pavi still wonders if they had just taken back GeneCo sooner…maybe…
They couldn’t find sorella anywhere. He was so scared. Where could they have put his sister? It was then when Pavi realized where they had found Luigi’s body; in front of the panic room.
He opened the door to find his sister curled on the ground in a foetal position. She didn’t answer his questions. She just laid there sobbing. She was inconsolable. She refused to say anything to him. Pavi couldn’t do anything but hold her as she sobbed in his chest. And then…and then Amber started using again. Pavi should have stopped her. He should have realized…
“Sorella?” His voice was quiet; not wanting to startle her.
Amber stopped humming. But she didn’t reply him. She just stared at the ceiling.
“Sorella, you have to talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say, brother?”
She was lucid enough to hold a conversation. That would have to do he supposed. “You need to talk about what happened.”
“No.”
“Sorella, you can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“You’ve been clean for over a year.”
Amber didn’t say anything.
“Please, sorella. I know it’s hard. But you need to stop this.”
“If I’m not high, I keep hearing him scream.”
“I know it’s hard, sorella.”
“Maybe he’s punishing me, brother. He won’t leave me alone because he wants to see me suffer.”
“Sorella, he wouldn’t want this.”
Amber sat up. “How would you know?”
“Because I know fratello. He wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
Amber smiled sardonically. “I left him to die. I closed the door right behind me, leaving him outside.”
Pavi froze. She had to be lying. She wouldn’t have…
“And then the screams started. All I had to do was open that fucking door. But I was so scared. I couldn’t even open that door.”
“They would have killed you both.”
“You don’t know that!” Amber shook. “You can’t know that. We thought rebels. But they weren’t…they weren’t…”
The President’s men. They wanted to force Amber to sign away GeneCo. As soon as the GeneCops found the evidence… That bastard would rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life.
“They didn’t need him. They just needed me. If I had opened the door, he’d still be here.”
“Sorella, please.” He tried to touch her but she pulled away from him. “You don’t know that. They would have most likely killed you both as soon as they got what they wanted.”
“You won’t tell me how he died, Paviche. You won’t tell me what they did to him. You didn’t let me see him until they fixed him up.”
“Sorella…” Pavi sighed. “I told you they shot him in the back and in the head.”
“Where? Where in the head?”
Pavi closed his eyes. Right temple. But his sister didn’t need to know that. The guilt she felt was already crushing her. “Back of the head. Execution style.”
“Liar.” She hissed.
“Sorella.” He grabbed her arm and didn’t let her pull away.
“I may as well have killed him myself.” She looked at him. “So tell me, brother. How am I supposed to deal with that without Z? How am I supposed to deal with what I’ve done?” She fell back into the chair and grabbed her head.
Pavi sat next to his sister and pulled her towards him. “He wouldn’t blame you, sorella.”
“He thought I hated him. He thought I didn’t care…” She buried her face into Pavi’s chest.
“He knows you love, sorella.”
“How do you know? How do you know?”
Pavi closed his eyes. Bullet wound: right temple. Angle consistent with- “Because he knew you would open the door.”
Amber shook harder and sobbed painfully into his chest.
Note: Sequel to Day 23. I didn’t feel like leaving the story there. I felt that there was so much whump potential in the aftermath. I’m late again cause this was just so difficult to write. Same warnings apply. Nothing too explicit but Non-Con, NSFW, torture warnings still apply even if just in a brief flashback.
Luigi watched the last of the guests leave. The President had been rushed to the hospital where he had been pronounced dead on arrival. Luigi approached his brother. “What the fuck is going on, Pavi?”
Pavi turned to him, face serious. “Follow me, fratello. You’re not going to like this.”
“Like what?”
But Pavi didn’t say anything. He headed towards the lift and Luigi followed. Pavi was never this serious. Luigi didn’t like this. And the repeated comments about the President’s drink. Did Pavi do something to it?
Luigi followed Pavi into Dr Smith’s office where the girl Pavi was with earlier was sitting quietly. “What is this, Pavi? You wanted to keep the President’s girl so you killed him?”
Pavi didn’t say anything. He just passed him a sheet of paper.
Blood test 1 and Blood test 2 (Amber Sweet): 100% match.
“What…what the fuck is this!?”
“I don’t-a think sorella ran away. I think-a he took her.”
Luigi looked at his brother then back at the girl. “Amber?”
The girl didn’t look at him; her eyes were on the floor.
“Look at me, you stupid slut!”
The girl flinched and cowered from him.
“Fratello!”
The girl just curled into herself and shook.
“Is this some sort of fucking prank?”
“No.” Pavi bent before her. “She doesn’t seem to remember anything.” Pavi placed her gentle hand on hers. She flinched but didn’t pull away.
“What did he do to her?”
“I don’t-a know. But he deserved much worse than-a what he got.”
“Carmela.”
The girl’s brows furrowed. Did she…did she recognize that?
“Mela, do you know where you are?”
“Mara. My name’s Mara.”
“Mela, do you know where you are?”
She nodded. “GeneCo. I…I need to get back to the Master. He will punish me.”
Something in Luigi’s chest flared. “Punish?” He growled.
Pavi gave him a warning look. “He is-a dead. He won’t-a touch you anymore.”
The girl’s brow furrowed. “Dead?”
“Si. You’re safe now. You’re home.”
“Home?” She looked around then settled on Pavi. “Do I belong to you now, sir?”
Luigi’s hand clenched into a fist. What did that bastard do to his sister?
“No, sorella. You’re safe. You’re home now.”
“Safe?”
This wasn’t his sister. This wasn’t his fucking sister.
“I’ll be good. I’ll do anything you want.”
“No one will-a hurt you here.”
“If I’m good. I know. Just listen and I won’t be punished.”
Luigi couldn’t take this. He left the office. Rage filled him. If only the bastard wasn’t dead. He punched the wall. He imagined it was the bastard’s face. He punched the wall once more.
“Fratello?”
“He deserved more than what he got.”
“I know. But-a we couldn’t get caught. And it had-a to be tonight. Or he would-a take her back.”
Luigi punched the wall once more. “What were you doing with her?”
“He offered her to The Pavi to have fun with.”
Luigi punched the wall once more with a firm crack. Pain radiated up his arm. He let out a growl and slid to the ground. “1 fucking year. He took her for 1 fucking year and we didn’t-” He slid to the ground.
“The forgery was-a perfect. We searched everywhere. It wasn’t-a like we didn’t search. If she looked like-a that as soon as he took her, we would have never recognized her.”
“How did you figure it out?”
“It was-a an accident. I spoke Italian and-a she responded. I would have-a never figured it out otherwise.”
“I want to tear him apart!”
“He’s-a dead.”
“He got off too fucking easy.”
“I know. But-a sorella is the priority now.”
“What can we do, Paviche?”
“Just-a remind her who she is. Remind her she is-a safe. That’s-a all we can do.”
“How the fuck did we fuck up so badly?”
“I don’t-a know, fratello.”
***
“Good. You’re finally awake.”
She opened her eyes. No. Why was she back here? She tried to move but she was tied down to the bed.
Her master ran a hand down her cheek. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, pet. You tried to run away.”
No. She got out. She got out. Why was she still here?
Her master held up a metal stick. He stroked her with it. “I told you, if you were a good girl, you won’t get hurt. It seems you still need to learn.”
There was a sound of something crackling. A sharp pain shot through her. She screamed as her body shook and convulsed. As soon the pain started, it stopped. She breathed heavily.
“Beg me to stop.”
She wanted to beg but her throat was stuck. She couldn’t say anything.
The sound of crackling and another sharp pain shot through her. But it didn’t stop. She arched and screamed and convulsed but it didn’t stop. Please stop. Please. The pain disappeared. She crumpled to the bed, sobbing.
“Oh, is the Ice Queen crying? Go on then, beg me to stop. It’ll end so much faster.”
Her mouth still refused to move. “Fuck you.” No, she didn’t want to make him angry. Why was she making him angry?
He grinned. Another shot of pain filled her. She shook and shook. He was going to kill her. She felt her heart thump painfully in her chest. He was going to kill her. Her limbs contorted; her back arched. The pain stopped and she slumped downwards. Her heart was beating funny. Why was its rhythm off?
“Is that all you can take?”
“Please.”
He grinned. “See, you can learn. That’s all you have to do pet.”
Her heart was skipping beats. She couldn’t breathe. She-
The metal rod was forced inside her.
A scream escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“Don’t struggle. You don’t want me to accidentally push the button do you?”
A whimper escaped her lips.
“Now you’re going to be a good girl. And if you bite me again, I will turn on the cattle prod while its inside you.”
Something was forced into her mouth. She choked as she felt it at the back of her throat. She gagged. She couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t-
***
“Sorella, wake up. You’re having a nightmare. Sorella.”
Her eyes shot opened and she backed away. “Don’t touch me.” She shrunk back.
“Ok, sorella. I’m-a not touching you. Just-a breathe.”
She wasn’t in that room. She was…she was… Where was she? Why was she here? The master would punish her. The master would… She looked up to the masked man. Right. He was her new master. She yelled at him. He would punish her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Sorella, there’s-a nothing to apologize for. Just-a calm down.”
He was going to hurt her. He was going to punish her. She tried to back away but there was nowhere she could go. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“I’m not-a going to hurt you, sorella.”
“Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.”
“Sorella…”
“Please. I’ll do anything.”
Arms surrounded her. He was going to hurt her. He was going to punish her. She fell still waiting for the pain.
Nothing happened. The arms didn’t let her go. But there was no pain. This…this felt familiar. This shouldn’t feel right but it did. She felt safe. She felt safe.
***
“-lease.”
Luigi sighed as he entered the hospital room Amber was staying at. Dr Smith wanted to keep an eye on her. He didn’t want to do any surgery on her until she was well enough to consent. Luigi had asked him to report what he had found. Dr Smith just gave him a dark look and refused. No matter how much he threatened him, he refused.
“What’s going on?”
She turned to him. “Please. I’ve been good. I’ve done everything you ask. I get Z if I’m good. Please.”
“Fuck.”
She flinched.
“Fratello…”
“Shit, I hadn’t…” He took a breath to calm himself down.
“Please sir. I’ll do anything you want. Just give me Z.” She approached him carefully. She dropped to her knees before him.
Luigi looked away. He couldn’t see his sister like this.
“I’ll do anything you want. Just give me Z. Anything you like.”
A hand touched his groin and unzipped his pants.
“Motherfucker!” He shoved her back. “Don’t fucking do that!”
Amber was sprawled on the ground. She was staring at him in fear.
“Fratello, calm down.”
He hadn’t meant. He hadn’t… Fuck he could do this. He couldn’t watch this. He left the room. He found the dent in the wall. He punched it. Again. And again. And ag-
“Stop it fratello, your fingers have barely set.” A hand grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” He snatched his hand back and sent it into the wall again and again. He let out a frustrated scream. Crack. There. He was satisfied. He looked at his hand. It had turned purple once more. Good.
“Damnit, fratello. Dr Smith will-a put you on a full cast if-a you keep doing that.”
“I can’t…I can’t deal with her like this. You fucking deal with her.”
“You don’t-a get to walk away.”
“I’m not… I can’t fucking see her like that.”
“It’s-a difficult for me to see her like that as-a well. But it doesn’t-a mean you get to abandon her.”
“I’m not-”
“She needs-a us.”
Pain shot through his hand as he roughly zipped up his pants. He knew…he knew what The President did to her. But to see it, to actually realize… He slammed his left hand into the wall.
“Is-a one fractured hand not-a enough?”
“If I can’t punish that bastard-”
“You’ll-a punish yourself?”
Luigi froze. “We should have found her.”
“This won’t-a change what happened. But we can-a help sorella now.”
“How?”
“I don’t-a know, fratello. But running away is-a definitely not it.”
Luigi closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine, Paviche.” He headed back to Amber’s room.
She just stared at them wide-eyed. She sat subserviently on the bed.
Luigi sighed and sat on the chair furthest from her. He couldn’t lose his temper.
Amber was staring at his hand. “Did someone punish you for being bad too?”
Luigi sighed. He really didn’t want to explain why he was punching the wall. “Yes.”
Amber glanced at Pavi.
“Pavi didn’t-a do anything, Carmela.”
She approached him cautiously. She gently took his hand in hers.
“It’s fine, Mela.”
“What did the poor wall ever did to you, brother?”
Luigi froze. “Mela?”
Amber didn’t say anything. She just examined his hand some more. She-
A blinding sharp pain shot through his hand.
He bit back the curse. He couldn’t scare her. “What are you-” He breathed heavily.
“The bones have to be put right.”
“Leave it, Mela. The doctors will see to it later.”
“The doctors will make it worse.”
Luigi froze. He placed a careful hand on her chin.
Amber stiffened.
Luigi dropped his hand immediately. “No one here will hurt you. If anyone so much as touches you, you tell me. I will fucking tear them apart.”
“Fratello.” Pavi warned again.
Amber didn’t cower but she didn’t say anything.
“No one is allowed in this room except for the two of us and Dr Smith. No one will hurt you.”
***
The withdrawal was bad. Luigi hadn’t noticed when Amber was withdrawing the first time. But sitting here, watching it first-hand. He watched her shake and throw up again. She kept begging them for Z but they held firm. Luigi’s limit however was when she reached for his pants again.
“Fucking hell, Carmela. I swear if you-”
She cowered from him. She hadn’t shown fear in so long. All their work undone by… Fuck. He headed to the door.
“Fratello!”
Luigi stopped and took a breath. He had to stay. No running away. He sat back in the chair. “I’m sorry, Mela. I hadn’t meant to raise my voice. Just please don’t…”
“Ok.” She said softly. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just give me Z.”
Luigi sighed. “It’ll be out of your system in a few days. Then you’ll feel better.”
“Asshole.”
Pavi whipped towards Amber in shock. “Sorella?”
But she didn’t reply as she always did when pieces of their sister appeared.
“Just rest, Mela.”
***
It’s been a week since Amber stopped withdrawing. She didn’t even ask for Z anymore. Dr Smith suggested they bring her back. Maybe familiar surroundings would help her remember who she was. He watched his sister walk into their home. She looked around cautiously. Slowly she broke away from them and started walking around by herself. She stopped in front of an old family portrait.
“Who’s that?”
“That’s papa, sorella.”
She paused. “No. Her.” She pointed at herself.
“That’s-a you, sorella.”
Her brows furrowed and she looked into the mirror. “No, it’s not.”
Luigi sighed. “Dr Smith says the surgery to look like that again would be extensive. You would require Z. He’s not keen on it and neither am I. But smaller scale surgeries, maybe a face transplant or something would work with the older painkillers. You can do that later, if you want Carmela. Once you get better.”
Amber just touched her own face and then the one in the portrait.
“Come on, Sorella, I’ll bring you to your room.”
Fear filled Amber’s face. “No. I’ve been good. Don’t lock me up again. Please. I’ve been-” She stopped herself. “Yes master.”
“We’re not-a locking you up, sorella.” He brought her to her room.
Her brows furrowed as she looked inside. “This isn’t…”
“This is your room, sorella. You can-a keep the doors open if you want. We’re not locking you inside.”
She slowly stepped into her room. She ran a hand on her table. “I… Do you want me to strip, master?”
Pavi sighed. “No, sorella.” He entered the room, giving Amber a wide berth. He opened the cupboard. “You can change to something more comfortable if you want, sorella.”
“The master chooses my clothes for me.”
“Thatman is-a dead. You can choose your own clothes, sorella.” Pavi just watched his sister stare at her dresser. “It’s-a almost time for dinner, sorella. Me and fratello will be waiting at the dining room. You can come when you’re ready.”
***
Pavi awoke with a start. It was dark. He…He couldn’t breathe. What was… Something was pressed against his face. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to move. Something was holding him down. He struggled. The pillow was pressed harder against his face. He tried to buck the person off him. They held firm. He fought harder. His lungs screaming for oxygen.
His hand slipped free. He grabbed the wrist holding him down and twisted. It released the pressure just enough for him to gasp in a breath. He pulled his other hand free and grabbed the other arm. He pushed the attacker back. He slammed them against the bed and-
Pavi froze. “Sorella?”
“Let me go. I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Sorella, it’s-a me. It’s-a Pavi.”
“I’m going to kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Pavi pinned Amber’s hands on top of her. He hit the light switch beside his bed. “Sorella, it’s me.”
“You’re…you’re not him.”
“No, sorella. It’s me. It’s just me.”
Pavi watched his sister disappear from her eyes. Fear filled them and she cowered back.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me.”
“I’m-a not going to hurt you, sorella.” He released her and stood. He headed to the light switch and turned it on.
Amber blinked and stared at him.
“Did you have another nightmare, sorella?”
“I…I was there again. Hewas there. I thought…”
Pavi cautiously held her hands. She didn’t flinch. “He’s dead, sorella. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“I…” She looked around desperately. “Yes. He’s dead. You…you’re my new master now.”
Frustration filled Pavi. “Sorella.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not your master, sorella. Stop calling me that. It’s me. It’s Pavi.”
“I…” She looked at her hands. “Ok, master. I’ll call you Pavi if you wish.”
Pavi released her hands. He sighed. “Just try to get some rest, sorella.”
“Ok.” She quietly left his room.”
***
She headed to the dining room. Her master was already there. She quietly sat in her chair. No, not her chair. The master told her to sit there. It didn’t belong to her. Nothing belonged to her.
The master didn’t look at her. He seemed upset. No. She would get in trouble if he was upset. She was going to be punished.
She had to do something. Her previous master liked it when she got on her knees. Would that…no the master didn’t like that. She looked at his hands. He liked touching her hands. Would that help? Slowly, she placed her hands on his.
“So…sorella?”
“Do you like this, master?”
The master sighed and pulled away his hands. Right. The master wanted her to call him Pavi. She forgot that. He will punish her.
“Motherfucker!” He flew to his feet. He was soaked with coffee. “That’s fucking hot, you clumsy bitch.”
She froze. “You fucking bitch!”
“You’re going to fucking pay for this.”
“I’m going to punish you so badly; you’ll be pissing blood for a week.”
“Fratello, stop it!”
The girl backed away, fear on her face. “Please don’t hurt me.”
She backed away from him. But she had nowhere to run. She had nowhere to run.
“Fucking bitch.”
He kicked her in the stomach. Again and again and again. Everything hurt. She couldn’t move. Please someone help her. She cried in pain but no one was coming.
“Fratello, stop it now!”
He stomped on her abdomen. She felt something burst. She screamed in pain. He was going to kill her. She was going to die.
“Motherf-” There was a growl of pain.
“Fratello!”
“Get the fuck out of here now.”
She was going to die. She was going to die. She was going to-
He was going to hurt her. He was going to kill her.
“Sorella, just take deep breaths. You’re safe. You’re alright.”
She forced herself to breathe. The master gave her an order. She had to follow. She had to listen. She forced her eyes open. The girl was gone. The master released her.
Her eyes fell on him. He was breathing heavily; a knife buried deep in his thigh.
“Did the Master punish you for being bad?”
The master stiffened.
“No, Mela. Pavi didn’t do this.”
“Did…did he make you punish yourself?”
“I’ll give you a choice, pet. I can place this knife into your eye right now. Or you can stab yourself anywhere on your body.”
“No, Carmela. It wasn’t-”
“I don’t…I don’t-a understand. I’ve done nothing to you. I’ve been by your side since the start. I’ve been-a patient and caring. Fratello’s the one losing his-a temper and what, you think-a I’ve been-a torturing him.”
The master was angry. The master was really angry. She was going to get it now.
“I don’t-a know what to do anymore, sorella. I…I’m-a trying. I know it-a takes time. If-a you treat us both like… I’d-a understand but… Did I do something to you to make you so scared of me? Did I do something wrong? I’ve been-a trying so hard but…”
No. He wasn’t angry. He was hurt. Why?
“Forget it sorella. It was always-a easier for you to forgive him. I will leave you alone. I can’t keep-a babysitting the both of you. If it’s-a easier for you to deal, I will leave you alone.” He turned and left.
“Pavi!”
Wait. Stop. No why did she want him to stop. If the Master left her alone…no not master. Her master was dead. He was…he was…
“Damn it.”
She looked up at him. He was gripping his thigh. It was bleeding. She approached him quietly.
“Leave it, Mela. I’ll see to it later.” He didn’t look at her. He was staring at the door.
“Why? If no one makes you do it, why?”
Luigi sighed. “Mela…” He looked at her than look away. “I can’t control…” He took a breath. “I feel… It gets too much sometimes. I need a way to get it out.”
She spotted the bandages. She gave a quick glance to her sleeping brother. She undid the bandages. Long deep cuts ran down her brother’s arm. She touched it.
Luigi awoke with a start. “I had a fight with the mirror. Don’t go in the bathroom, there’s glass everywhere.”
She just stared at the scars. There was something off about it but she didn’t know what. She was too young to understand. “Is…Is Pavi going to be ok?”
Luigi turned away from her. “I don’t know, Carmela. I fucked up so badly.”
She pulled up Luigi’s sleeve. Those scars had healed. But there were new cuts; shallower but no less angry.
“Carmela, don’t.”
“Does Pavi-”
“This has nothing to do with Pavi. He didn’t make me do anything.”
No. “Does Pavi know?”
Luigi sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve been better at hiding it but these last few weeks have been…”
Difficult. Dealing with her had been difficult. “I’m sorry.”
Luigi closed his eyes. “I’m just going to make things worse.” He stood painfully. “I’m going to get this stitched up. Talk…” He sighed. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. But…Pavi has really been trying. This isn’t easy, Carmela. I’m not blaming you. It’s just…been hard.” He headed to the door.
“Brother. It wasn’t your fault. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“I can’t help you, Carmela. Not like he can. I can’t do anything-”
“You’re here brother. It helps. I know it doesn’t seem like it. But it helps.”
“I keep losing… I can’t control my temper. I can’t keep… You were never scared of me before. I’m making things worse, Mela.” He pushed open the door.
“Don’t give up on me.”
“I’m not, Mela. But I’m making you worse, not better. You deserve better.”
***
She watched the Mas-Pavi sit on the bench in the Greenhouse. He was quiet. He-
She sat next to Pavi and leant onto his arm. “Brandon broke up with me. He said I wasn’t pretty enough for him.”
“Sorella,” He sighed. “Your boyfriend was an asshole.”
“He isn’t wrong.”
“Sorella, you look-a lovely.”
“Then why won’t you take my face?”
He froze. “Sorella…”
“See, it’s not good enough for you.”
“It’s not like that, sorella.”
“Mommy wouldn’t have left if I was pretty enough for her.”
“That’s not true, sorella, you know that. Your mother was…” Pavi sighed. “I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Daddy won’t let me have surgery.”
“You don’t-a need surgery, sorella.”
“Everyone in school has had one. We own GeneCo and yet daddy won’t let me do anything. They make fun of me.”
Pavi sighed. “I’ll help you convince papa. But do it only because you want to, sorella. Not to make the other girls happy.”
“What if I want to make the other girls jealous.”
Pavi grinned and smacked her head playfully. “Do it for yourself, sorella.”
“You’re the only one I can talk to, brother. You’re the only one who understands.”
She slowly sat next to Pavi. She leant onto his arm.
“Sorella.” He sighed.
“I’m remembering.”
Pavi froze.
“It’s not much. But I’m remembering.” Her voice turned small. “It’s hard. Some days I wake up and I feel like me but one trauma, one trigger and…” She felt a gentle hand on her arm. “He punishes me when he’s angry and that’s why when Luigi starts yelling, I… but those were never so bad. It meant beatings, punishment but that was it. It’s when…it’s when he’s nice; when he’s polite is when it’s the worse. That’s when he would have friends over or he wants to try something new. That’s why…it’s harder with you. I’m sorry.”
“Sorella, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault.”
“No. I have to say it. This is the clearest I’ve ever been. If I regress…I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Sorella, I don’t need you to take care of me. Just focus on yourself.”
“I know you’re trying to take care of us, Pavi. I see it. Luigi sees it. I need you to remember that when I forget.”
“Sorella please. Don’t worry about me.”
“You were here for me, for Luigi, when daddy died. You were probably grieving too but…I think we took it for granted you were ok.”
“I am ok, sorella.”
“It’s ok to not be. You don’t have to pretend for us. I knew all this before but…it was so hard to say.”
Pavi sighed. “Sorella.”
“Do you think things can go back to normal?”
“No. But it’s ok. You’re here. I’m here. Fratello’s here. That’s enough.”
“What if I never get better?”
“I will be here sorella. No matter how hard it gets. I will be here. I won’t leave you alone.”
“Yes master.”
The master’s eyes closed. He looked…sad. He placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I’ll be right here, sorella.”
Note: I’m sorry. I know I’m late. I know I’m falling behind. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Trigger warnings: I usually don’t post trigger warning cause it’s all in the tags. I’m posting them here now because it’s NSFW and it’s non-con. I need to emphasize that. It’s nothing too graphic but it happens. So please, read the tags, all the tags before proceeding. I felt so terrible writing this. And honestly I regretted it halfway but I was already falling behind
“Next item for auction. A precious, rare item that would probably never grace our halls again. Going for 25 million dollars. Miss Amber Sweet, CEO of GeneCo.”
The bag was pulled off the creature on the stage. She squinted as the lights blinded her. He saw the fear hidden behind the arrogant contempt that bitch always wore. He grinned. He found his new plaything.
Whispers echoed through the audience. They were all wearing masquerade masks and only their assistants were allowed to speak for them; a façade for hiding their identities. But he knew who each and every one of these insects were. No one hid from him.
“Show us a sample.” A voice from the audience called out. Assisstant to Mark Black; tech genius and CEO of MobileTech.
The auctioneer approached the GeneCo head. She snarled at him. Any malice negated by the fact that she was bound and gagged. Her clothes were stripped off her; leaving her clad in black lingerie.
Someone in the audience whistled in approval. Kelvin Grant. CEO of Fashion Tech.
The girl glared at them but she just looked like a cheap prostitute from here.
“Anything more will be the privilege of the winner of the auction, of course.”
Someone boo’d. Joseph Chase. CEO of Charmaceuticals.
“Let’s start the bidding at 25 million.”
“50 million.”
The bidding war started. The price climbed quickly. He watched horror enter the girl’s face.
“750 million.” Mutterings filled the room. How much were they willing to pay for a one night stand really? But he…he had a new toy. She would be worth everything.
“…going twice. Sold to number 27 for 750 million. Next item on our list-”
But he’d lost interest. He had his new pet. “Extensive surgery. Change her face; remove any recognizable scars or birthmarks. Change her body shape if you have to. I don’t want anyone to recognize her.”
“Yes sir.”
***
Everything hurt. How long has she been here? Why haven’t her brothers come for her? Someone had to come for her.
She looked around her room. Well, barely a room. It had no windows and only a single arm chair and queen sized bed filled it. Nothing else. No mirrors. No dresser. Nothing. Why would she be given a dresser? The man stripped her lingerie off her the first day and she has worn nothing since. She fought the embarrassment. She won’t let this affect her.
The door opened.
She fought her urge to cower. She couldn’t look weak. She refused to look weak.
The man who bought her walked in still wearing the same masquerade mask. “Hello princess.” He stroked her cheek.
She fought the urge to shrink away. Instead she spat at him.
He grinned. And slapped her hard across the face. The force sent her sprawling on the ground. “It seems I haven’t broken you yet. I really don’t like damaging my pets.”
Amber tried to get up. A foot stomped down on her back sending her crashing to the ground. She refused to scream.
“I think my pet needs to understand who she belongs to.” He kicked her onto her front.
“Fucking bastard.”
“Shhhhh. Bad little pets need to be punished.”
Four men ran into the room and held her down. Her eyes widened as the fifth passed him a red hot poker with a seal on top. “No.” She whimpered.
“Yes pet, beg.”
She glared.
The man just grinned and pressed the poker onto her stomach.
She screamed. Searing pain filled her stomach. She struggled but the men held her down.
The poker was lifted but the pain still persisted. Tears burned in her eyes. She forced them back. She won’t let them see her cry. She won’t.
“Get on the bed.”
The men released her.
Shakily, she got onto her feet.
“Get on the bed.”
Every step sent searing pain through her. She gingerly sat on the bed.
“I don’t usually like to share. But you men have been working so hard.” He sat in the arm chair. “Go ahead. Have your turn.”
“No.” She backed away. But there was nowhere to run. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” Two men held her down. She kicked one of the men in the groin. The other two grabbed her legs and spread them open. “No.” She fought.
She heard pants unzipping.
She bucked and fought but they held her down.
A sharp pain shot through her as he forced himself into her.
She looked at the ceiling. She focused on the ceiling fan. Just as she had done every night she was here. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t here. She was at home; in GeneCo, safe. She was in her room, getting ready for bed.
The man’s grunts distracted her and forced her back to the present. She felt the bedsheet scratching her back. Her stomach was on fire. Hands. So many hands holding her down. And this terrible pain going in and out and in and-
The fan. Just look at the fan. She was not here. She was not here. She was…
Her brothers would come for her. Her brothers would find her. Someone would save her.
***
Amber studied the scarred crest on her abdomen. She traced it. She knew who was behind this. She imagined stabbing a poker in the bastard’s eye. She imagined herself slicing his skin off until there was nothing left.
The door opened.
Amber flinched back. What new torture did he have for her today?
“Oh my pet is so good today.”
Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.
He stroked her cheek. “You must be in so much pain. Let me help you.” He pulled out a Z gun.
Amber’s eyes widened and back away. “No.” She was clean. She was fucking clean.
“Shhhhh. I’m being kind. Don’t you like it when I’m kind?”
“No.”
He grabbed her hair and pulled. “Don’t you remember what happens when you don’t listen?”
“Please.”
“Yes. Beg me for it. Beg me to give you Z.”
No. She was clean. It took her so long to give up Z.
“Beg. Me. For. Z.”
“Please. Please give it to me, sir.” Disgust filled Amber.
“As you wish, pet.” He placed the Z gun against her thigh.
She closed her eyes. Tears streamed down her fac. No. Not Z. Not-
The gun went off.
A thick haze filled her. She felt calm and relaxed. And why was she so upset?
She was pushed forward onto the bed.
It was so comfortable.
She felt a pressure from behind.
She felt…nothing.
***
Pavi watched their guests dance around the hall. He wasn’t in the mood for a party. But GeneCo still had to keep up appearances. It’s been a year since their sister ran away. Pavi sighed. It was so unlike his sister. He wished she would have talked to him about it first. She didn’t show up for work one day and they found a letter in her room saying that she couldn’t stand the stress of running GeneCo anymore; that she was leaving Luigi in charge of GeneCo and she was leaving for good.
It just wasn’t like his sister. She was the one who wanted to run GeneCo. If she really hated doing it; Luigi would have been happy to take over. And she could still stay here doing whatever she wanted. Why the hell did she have to leave?
Pavi spotted the President come in. He sighed. Time for work.
“Mr President, we are-a delighted to have-a you here tonight.”
“I am delighted to attend.” The man smiled charmingly. “And please for the last time call me Francis.”
“The Pavi wouldn’t-a dare Mr President.” Pavi turned to the girl standing at the President’s side; a small wallflower who wouldn’t meet his eye. “Has-a the Mrs President gotten a new face?”
“Unfortunately no. The Mrs is in Europe for business. So I thought I’d show off my latest prize.” He turned to the girl. “Show Mr Largo your face.”
The girl slowly lifted her face but did not meet his eyes.
“Your-a face is-a beautiful, bella.”
The girl didn’t say anything.
“Isn’t it? It cost me a fortune to redo the bone structure but I think the result is exquisite.”
Pavi held the girl’s chin. “Yes, truly exquisite.”
“You know what, Mr Largo. I’m getting rather bored of the girl’s face. I think it’s time she had a new one. If you really like it, you can have it.”
Pavi grinned. “That’s-a very generous, Mr President.”
“Just please don’t kill the girl. She won’t fight.” He said with a wink.
“Follow me, little one.”
The girl looked at the President and he nodded. She approached him quietly.
“Oh and Mr Largo, I don’t mind sharing. You can take her for a test run.”
“Maybe The Pavi shall.” He held out her arm for the girl to take. She just stared at the ground. He gripped her wrist and brought her upstairs to his room. The face truly would be perfect for his collection. The way the skin gently fell on the cheeks; the perfect nose structure. It truly was perfect.
“Go on, Bella. Lie on the bed.”
The girl obediently laid on the bed and spread her legs.
Pavi traced the features on her face. It was lovely. Pavi hiked up the girl’s dress.
She didn’t protest or fight; she just lay there.
“Bella, it’s-a much more fun if you fight or at least act like you’re enjoying it.”
“I’m sorry.” Came the small voice.
Pavi placed his hand on the inside of her thigh.
There was no reaction. She just laid there; staring at the ceiling.
Pavi sighed. “You’re really not-a making this fun, Bella.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t-a you like this, bella?” He stroked her thigh.
“Yes sir. Please give it to me sir.” She sounded like an emotionless robot; pre-programmed to say the lines.
Pavi sighed. He’d lost interest. He pulled down her skirt. “Come on, bella. I’ll just take your face and you can go back to your date. You’ve spoiled my mood.”
“Yes, sir.” The girl sat up. She didn’t react when he put the blade to her face.
“Questa bella sa davvero come uccidere l'umore (She really knows how to kill the mood).”
“Scusate. Cosa desidera che faccia, signore? (Sorry. What do you wish me to do, sir?)”
Pavi froze. “You understand Italian, Bella?”
“No.”
“You just-a spoke fluent Italian.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve never learned Italian in my life.”
“Dove hai imparato a parlare italiano? (Where did you learn to speak italian?)”
“Non ho mai imparato a parlare italiano, signore. (I’ve never learned to speak Italian, sir.)”
It was strange. She spoke Italian fluently; the sentences were full, the grammar perfect. Definitely not someone who’s only just learned Italian. But her pronunciation was off. But pronunciation like that with that kind of fluency didn’t make sense. Almost like a child who was forced to learn another language but was never interested; so they learned half-heartedly but used it often enough, they could speak it.
“Farfallina bella e Bianca,”
“Vola vola mai si stanca.”
“Trotta trotta cavallino,”
“Porta a spasso il mio bambino.”
Children’s nursery rhymes. No teacher would teach an adult Italian with nursery rhymes. This meant that she must have learned it since she was a child.
“Why are you lying to me, Bella?”
“I’m not lying. I don’t speak Italian.”
“What’s your name?”
“Mara.”
“Come ti chiami?”
“Mara.”
Something felt wrong. Nothing she said made sense. She was a fluent speaker and yet… He knew only one person who spoke like she did. Someone who had perfect grammar and vocabulary but refused to pronounced things correctly out of spite. “Sorella?”
“Figlio unico. (Only child).”
Was she playing a prank of him? Was he overthinking things? Was he missing his sister so much, he’d fooled himself into believing this girl was his sister? Wait, Amber had a birthmark over her right upper back. “Turn around.” He unzipped the back of her dress partway. It wasn’t there. He was wrong. He was just fooling himself. He was wrong. He sighed and zipped her dress back up. “I’ve lost the mood. I’ll bring you back to the President, bella.”
The girl just nodded quietly.
He led her out of his room and they headed back towards the ballroom. He paused at the lift. “Aissèra, Nanninè, me ne sagliette. Tu saie addò?”
“Tu saie addò?”
“Addò ‘stu core 'ngrato cchiù dispietto. Farme nun pò!
“Farme nun pò.”
He paused.
“Addò lo fuoco coce, ma si fuie. Te lassa sta! Te lassa sta!” She continued singing quietly.
The lift doors opened. Pavi stared at the buttons. He pressed the floor where the medical wards were. That song. He knew that the song was popular. He knew he was basing it on false hope but… How many times had he and Amber sang that song to annoy Luigi? He hated the song with a passion thanks to them. And so they refused to stop singing it. It…it may be false hope. But Pavi had to be sure.
The doors opened at the medical wards. He stepped out of the lift, guiding Amber -no it couldn’t be Amber- out. They walked a couple of steps when the lift dinged once more.
“Mr Largo.”
Fuck.
“You were taking awhile so I came to find you. Where are you going?”
Pavi froze. He couldn’t make an enemy out of the President. That would be foolish. Not over this small hunch that this girl could be his sister. He had to be sure first. “Mr President. The face was-a so perfect, the Pavi couldn’t-a bear risk damaging it. The Pavi will get the Surgeons to remove the face.”
“That wasn’t the deal, Mr Largo. I would appreciate if you return my property to me now.”
He was trying to stop him. He was worried. The hunch became more and more likely by the minute. “Mr President,” He pouted. “You promised you would give The Pavi her face.”
“I’ve changed my mind. Pet, come here.”
Pavi gripped the girl’s wrist. “No bella, stay with me.”
“Please, let me go. He’ll get angry.”
“Nothing gets in The Pavi’s way of getting a beautiful face.”
“I’m warning you Mr Largo, give me the girl.”
The lift dinged once more. Luigi walked out. “Where the hell have you been hiding?” Luigi growled. He froze when he saw the President. “Mr President.”
“Brotherrrrrrr….” Pavi whined. He hoped Luigi would pick up that something was wrong. “He won’t-a let The Paviche have the girl’s-a faceeeeeee.”
Luigi stared at him. He sent a begging look to his brother that he hoped he would pick up on.
“Come now, Mr President. Let’s leave the freak to his games. The others want to start a high stakes poker game and would be delighted if you would join.”
The President hesitated but couldn’t do anything without drawing suspicion. He relented. “Give her back once you’re done.”
“Of-a course, Mr President.” Pavi held the girl close to him. “The Pavi tried her out. The Pavi understands-a why you’re so attached.”
The President smirked and followed his brother into the lift.
Pavi’s smiled dropped. He grabbed the girl’s wrist once more and dragged her forward.
She didn’t fight him.
He entered Dr Smith’s office. “I need someone who won’t say anything and I can trust. Someone who won’t report back to the President. I need you to call the nurses outside to prepare for a face removal surgery. Then I need you to run a DNA test.”
“What’s going on, Mr Largo?”
“I don’t know. I hope I’m wrong. But…”
He glanced at the young girl and did what he was told.
Pavi paced. He was wrong. He had to be wrong. This couldn’t be… He looked at the girl sitting there staring at the ground. That couldn’t be his sister. How did the President get his hands on her? A sick feeling filled him. What if she hadn’t ran away? What if she was taken and a false note was planted? But they searched everywhere. They couldn’t find traces or hints of anything. Unless… He looked at the girl. They did the modification as soon as they took her. No one would recognize her.
Dr Smith approached the girl with a needle.
Obediently, she turned her neck for him to inject her.
“Your hand will do, dear.”
“That isn’t Z?” Pavi’s chest clenched.
“No.”
“But…I’ve been good. He said I could have Z if I was good.”
“I just need a bit of blood.” Dr Smith took the sample. “What do you want me to run it against?”
“Amber’s blood.”
Dr Smith froze. He looked down at the girl then back at him. “Mr Largo, I don’t think-”
“I know. I know it doesn’t make sense. I just have this feeling. Please. Just run the test. If it’s wrong, it’s wrong. I need to know.”
Dr Smith nodded.
“No one else finds out about the test.”
“I’ll run it myself.”
“Thank you.”
Pavi watched Dr Smith leave then sat opposite Amber – the girl. “How-a long have you been with the President for?”
“2 years.”
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Amber just did run away.
“You were-a scared when you said he’d get angry. Does he hurt you?”
“The master is giving me what I deserve.”
“And what exactly does he give you?”
The girl unzipped her dress. It dropped to the floor.
Pavi thought it was odd she would wear a floor-length, long sleeved ball gown. Now he understood. Bruises and burns decorated her body. Bones had been broken and healed back wrongly. On her stomach was a seared crest; the President’s crest.
“Do you remember your-a life, before meeting the President?”
“No.”
Dr Smith returned. He gave him a dark look. He passed him the file. Blood test 1 and 2: 100% match.
He would fucking kill him.
Pavi grabbed took out his knife. “Keep her here.” He headed to the lift. He saw red.
“Mr Largo!”
“Just stay with her.”
“You said President earlier. Are you insane? Are you going to kill the President?”
“He’s-a going to pay.”
“You go in there and stab him and his men will shoot you dead. I know you Largo’s think you’re invincible but he actually has more power than you.”
“I don’t care. I want him dead. He will pay for what he did to her. For what he tried to make me do.” Disgust and nausea filled Pavi.
“I didn’t say let him go.” Dr Smith held out a vial. “It’s untraceable and will mimic a heart attack.”
“He won’t suffer!”
“And you won’t get caught.”
Pavi paused for a moment. He took the vial and entered the lift. He wanted the bastard dead. He saw her broken face before him. He wanted him dead. He saw the way she just laid on the bed spreading her legs. He would kill him. He saw the bruises and broken bones on her body. He would make him die screaming.
The door opened and Pavi headed to where the others were playing poker. “Is-a there space for the Pavi?”
“Where is my pet?”
Rage filled Pavi. “She resting post-surgery. The Pavi promised he’ll give her back.”
“Get her here. I’ve been losing every hand.” He threw the cards on the table.
Pavi spotted The President’s drink on his left. It was too close to the other player. “Fratello, he’s-a hiding aces up his sleeve.” Pavi said pointing to the man to the right of Luigi.
“I’m not.”
Pavi watched Luigi shout at him. The others were distracted as well. Pavi slipped in the vial of poison.
Pavi headed to Luigi’s left, right between him and the President. He watched the President drink the whisky.
“Mr Largo, you really should try this blend of whisky. Valerio Adami. You’ll never find a blend like this again.”
Pavi’s eyes widened as The President held up the glass to his brother.
“The smell is certainly exquisite.”
“Now, Mr President. Are-a you really so-a cheap you won’t pour fratello his-a own glass?”
“Not cheap. Unfortunately, this is the last glass. You will never find this blend anywhere in the world again. It is the last of its kind.”
Luigi’s back was towards him. There was no way he could silently warn him. If he knocked the glass out of Luigi’s hands, he would lose the chance to kill the President. Not to mention cause suspicion.
Pavi sighed exaggeratedly. “But it’s almost like kissing each other. Maybe fratello has-a secret crush.”
“Pavi, shut the fuck up!”
The President rolled his eyes. “You’ve been unbelievably crude.”
“the Pavi is just-a satisfied with-a a good lay, no?”
“Ignore him. It’s how he’s like at home. He must have drank too much, he forgot that we have company.”
“But brotherrrrrrr….” Pavi whined. Why wasn’t his brother getting the hint? His brother must know something’s wrong right?
“Unfortunately Mr President, Pavi’s crude jokes aside, I have a thing with saliva and I would rather not share a glass.”
The President shrugged. “Your loss.”
“I’m sure it is.”
The others continued their game. Pavi just stood there; watching the game, eyes darting to the President. When?
The game ended and everyone excused themselves. Did Dr Smith lie? Did he trick him so he wouldn’t risk killing the President? He won’t let him go.
“Now, Mr Largo. Where is my…” His brow furrowed. He grabbed his chest as he gasped for air. “Help.” He fell to the ground, convulsing in pain. As his gasps became more drawn out and desperate; Pavi grinned at him. “Yo-” He gave a gasp and fell still. It was done. He was dead. It was finished.
This is just a little piece of experimentation writing, I had an idea and ran with it just to try out the Vibes. I had to give them names for it to feel right, I guess we’ll see if either of them show up again in the future. I wanted to try something here, starting with the small detail and slowly widening the lens… I like how it turned out!
Contents: aftermath of torture/interrogation, mob/crime type setting, hand whump, knives, guns, blood, threats, all that juicy stuff.
It hurts like hell as his hand is lifted—the mangled broken one with its cracked bones and dislocated joints—so the pad of his thumb can be pressed to the fingerprint scanner. Of course it’s the broken one that Blake uses, not the one that’s chained to the table leg.
Gil grits his teeth through every tiny shift, air whistles past his teeth as he hisses, almost a whine. And then he breathes, swallows, gets air into his lungs just in time to be able to gasp as his hand is laid back down on the surface of the table and the pain spikes all over again. There’s a gentle clunk in front of him and he opens his eyes to see his phone shining up at him.
“Now the passcode.”
He looks up, licks his lips. The handcuff rattles as he tries to raise his right hand. Blake holds his gaze, waiting perched on the edge of the table.
“The passcode.”
They’d asked for it before, but that was hours ago. Hours before the pain he’s in now. Long before he’d reached the point of caving in, willing to do this—to make it stop.
“Y-yeah, give me… yeah.” His voice is hoarse. He’s out of options, or at least out of options that don’t involve more pain.
This is just a little piece of experimentation writing, I had an idea and ran with it just to try out the Vibes. I had to give them names for it to feel right, I guess we’ll see if either of them show up again in the future. I wanted to try something here, starting with the small detail and slowly widening the lens… I like how it turned out!
Contents: aftermath of torture/interrogation, mob/crime type setting, hand whump, knives, guns, blood, threats, all that juicy stuff.
It hurts like hell as his hand is lifted—the mangled broken one with its cracked bones and dislocated joints—so the pad of his thumb can be pressed to the fingerprint scanner. Of course it’s the broken one that Blake uses, not the one that’s chained to the table leg.
Gil grits his teeth through every tiny shift, air whistles past his teeth as he hisses, almost a whine. And then he breathes, swallows, gets air into his lungs just in time to be able to gasp as his hand is laid back down on the surface of the table and the pain spikes all over again. There’s a gentle clunk in front of him and he opens his eyes to see his phone shining up at him.
“Now the passcode.”
He looks up, licks his lips. The handcuff rattles as he tries to raise his right hand. Blake holds his gaze, waiting perched on the edge of the table.
“The passcode.”
They’d asked for it before, but that was hours ago. Hours before the pain he’s in now. Long before he’d reached the point of caving in, willing to do this—to make it stop.
“Y-yeah, give me… yeah.” His voice is hoarse. He’s out of options, or at least out of options that don’t involve more pain.
It’s a special kind of agony to raise his hand and use the back of a knuckle to key in the four digit number. It aggravates the injuries, but it cuts deeper too. He knows he’s giving in; too weak to hold out. But wouldn’t anyone, after all this? He isn’t sure.
“Very good. See how easy this can be?”
He scowls, face twisting in disgust. Gets a laugh for it.
“I know, you have your orders, your principles to follow. Unfortunately so do I, it’s a shame they clash. I’m sure neither of us wants to be here.”
No, he doesn’t want to be here. Would walk out if he could, if his legs would even hold his weight after all the pain, the exhaustion.
“Not exactly my choice for a vacation, no,” he replies, stifling a cough as his lungs protest. Cracked rib, then. Or bruised at least. The chair squeaks under his weight, the legs crooked. His knee knocks against the table but it’s too solid to wobble. Had held his weight well enough while they worked him over.
Blake leans back, spreads his arms wide. “We do our best with what we have.”
And what they have is a pile of shit. Fuck all. Until now… until he gives them everything he has. Maybe not everything, he’ll have to see what he can hold on to. He takes a steadying breath. Pulls himself back from the points of pain in his body, into the room to focus on what he has to do next.
“Now, let’s go through this a bit at a time.” Blake swipes the phone and clicks around. “Contacts first, one by one. I show you a name or number, you tell me what their relation is to you and your operation. Understand?”
“Can I have some water?”
There’s a silent exchange between Blake and the man guarding the door. It’s thick and heavy–the door, and the man– off to the side near the corner, opening to a room longer than it is wide, but not by much. Not big enough for Gil’s screams to echo, but big enough that his eyes can wander over cracks and peeling paint on the walls. He snaps his attention back to Blake as he gets his answer.
“After you answer some questions, sure, then you can drink.”
His throat is like sandpaper, raw and rough. He bobs his head anyway. What else is he going to do?
“Of course you’d say anything right now to get this to stop, wouldn’t you?” Blake appraises him over the phone, the blue light glinting in his eyes. Makes him look even more unnerving, eerily otherworldly. But he’s only a man, he just happens to be a man on the winning side of this exchange.
Another hesitant lick of his lips. “I… no, I mean, I’m cooperating?”
“Right, sure.” The phone is waved around as Blake squints, thinking. “But even so, you know I’ll need to verify each thing you tell me, independently. You talk, we check, then we move on. I can’t take your word for anything under these conditions.”
These conditions. The ones where he’s ratting out everyone he knows. “I understand.”
“Great, so, first things first—your role. And your real name?”
He must hesitate a fraction of a second too long because there’s the distinct sound of a gun being cocked behind him, and the large man blocking his exit comes into his field of view. Finger casually held down the side of the barrel, gun turned slightly in his direction. He sinks down in his seat, bare feet sliding on the boards underneath—slick with blood. With other things.
Blake shakes his head, chuckles. “That’s not necessary, Crill. No, no death is not what’s going to motivate you right now is it?”
He clenches his jaw, rotates it, grinding his teeth. Took one too many hits to the face and it’s all swollen, bruised and hot. He shakes his head, or at least, he shakes.
“No, the threat of more pain, that’syour motivation.”
“You don’t need—” he starts, desperately, and is cut off as a large, sharp knife appears in Blake’s hand from the sheath at his hip. He follows it, can’t look away from it. “Please, come on, I won’t…”
“Won’t what? Talk?” The knife twirls, the point edges towards him, wobbles like a wagging finger.
“Won’t hold back!”
That gets a smile, the knife sidles closer, plucks at the collar of his shirt and swipes downwards slowly until the top button strains and then pops. He looses a breath with it as the button bounces out of sight, a whine stuck in his throat.
“I know,” Blake replies.
His shirt is already in tatters, burnt, ripped, soaked in blood. Not like he’s going to miss that one button but the casual destruction fills him with dread as Blake rounds the table, picks up a pad of paper and a pen. A second phone. Settles in like this is a business meeting. As if one person at the table hasn’t been brutalised, isn’t bleeding.
The morning light just peeking through the mesh covered window paints the entire scene in bleak, grey tones. A washed out horror show that he’s too tired to make sense of.
“Keep doing what I ask and we can relax while we wait for your stories to be corroborated.”
That makes him shudder. How can he relax like this, alone, haunted, hurt? His mind drifts out of the window. There’s an entire world waking up outside. Getting out of bed, eating, starting the day right. And yet he can’t wake up from the nightmare he was dragged into. He blinks, stupidly, trying to clear some of the haze from his mind. His wits are nowhere to be found, though. Must have bled out of him along with his screams.
That smile again, small, but so confident. “Let’s begin.”
sick to goddamn death of the ‘only trans women face violence so you stupid dumb baby trans men should stop complaining about invisibility because you don’t face violence’ hello???? HELLO??? transmasculine folk suffer the highest rates of sexual assault and suicide in the whole community, look at the way laws are being made in the UK specifically targeting transmasculine folk, look at jk terfling’s “autistic trans men are just confused mentally ill girls” manifesto.
i will state once again that trans men of color also exist, we face plenty of fucking violence and that increases tenfold if/when we choose to transition.
at this point if you claim transmascs face less/no violence or are somehow less oppressed than trans women, you’re not just wrong, you’re a fucking transphobe and you are getting us killed.
Evon Young, Mel Groves, Kenneth Bostick, and Kristian Rouse are all Black trans men.
Transmasculine people do experience transphobic violence - including violence coming from cis women, like with Roberto and Yampi. There is a very real chance that people will find out we are trans and try to kill us, like Valera. And most of the time, the police are not our friends - either they ignore our constant abuse like with Vanja, or they outright kill us (especially transmascs of color) like with Haven. We are also frequently misgendered in news and police reports, as many men on this list were.
Transmasculine people shouldn’t have to fucking prove this to our own community.
it’s kinda weird how people fixated on light deprivation* as a means of torturing Stevonnie and Pink Diamond as opposed to, you know, solitary confinement
*which turned out not to be as extreme as some people were thinking, considering the tower had open windows
50,504 words. 31 angsty oneshots. A whole month’s worth of Psych fics written for Whumptober 2021. Buckle up folks for it’s gonna be a bumpy ride. Links, warnings, and summaries are under the cut.
