When you go to a haunted house, it may seem like you’re being funny by trying to scare the actors or jump out at them when you go through a second time, but guess what? ITS NOT FUNNY.
You pay us to scare you. It is your choice to go, so don’t fucking go through if you’re going to ignore the rules and get too close to the actors as a ‘joke’.
These bruises happened because over the course of 4 hours, several people ignored the instructions that CLEARLY stated that they were to wait in the front room until told otherwise. Rather than listen, they ran into the next room and slammed into me- effectively throwing me into the wall. This didn’t only happen once. It happened ten times at LEAST.
Then we had this asshole who thought that once I ‘died’ for the haunt, he could pretend to kick me to see if I’d moved. I, being used to people abusing me- jumped back and slammed my head into the concrete wall.
YOU ARE NOT FUNNY BY BEING RUDE AT A HAUNTED HOUSE. WE ARE PAID ACTORS THAT YOU CHOOSE TO COME AND SEE PERFORM. YOU PAY US TO SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU, SO DONT HIT US WHEN WE DO
I feel that this is relevant considering it is October and more Haunted Houses are opening up. I know it seems funny to scare the ‘monsters’ but all you do is hurt real people. So stop.
It’s not even October but I’m still spreading this
SIGNAL BOOOOOOOOSSSSSTTTTT!!!!!!! Now
Yeah…your director may want to consider reblocking
We don’t have a director? Or blocking??? It’s a haunted house bro, not a play
Reblogging for relevance-
I work at a Haunted House every October, and have been for the past few years. Our house in particular is staffed by Volunteer workers who are either earning credits for Graduation, or people who know the Family that owns the haunted attraction. In our City, we’re one of two Haunted Houses, so while we open in late September, we tend to get incredibly busy during the month of October and often work from 6pm until 2, 3am on weekends.
We do not get paid to help out. Due to our location, we get a lot of drunk guys coming through, and a lot of ‘funny’ teenagers. In my several years working there, I’ve seen Actors get grabbed and thrown, stomped on, kicked, bitten, everything. A lot of the Actors at this attraction are young teenagers, Middle and Secondary School students, so this kind of abuse is terrifying and potentially emotionally scarring.
There’s a position half-way through the house we call ‘Psych Ward’, and it’s essentially a jump scare. The scare is a corner-room, boxed in with walls and broken windows, that the Actor pops out of and shouts and taunts the people going through. October, 2012, a couple were going through the Psych Ward corner and the scare went off as per usual. The girlfriend of this couple got very startled but laughed it off and continued on. The boyfriend, however, back-tracked and went up to the broken window and punched the Actor in the face for scaring his girlfriend. The Actor, who I’m going to call Tracy, had a black eye for a good two weeks solid and the couple had to be escorted out of the house and were banned from the property. Ever since we’ve ruled that Veteran Actors (someone who’s been there for 3+ years) are the only ones allowed in this particular Scaring Spot.
He paid to get scared and then got violent when we delivered.
There are so many stories I can tell of ignorant customers banging back on scares and injuring the Actors inside, grabbing props from the actors and hurting them with it, destroying props because they thought it would be ‘funny’.
I just want to raise awareness that the ACTORS ARE STILL PEOPLE. We’re instructed to get the best kind of scare out of you, sometimes with no pay at all (like this particular attraction), so please respect our work.
We wouldn’t come to your job, mock you, and push you around trying to be ‘funny’. Don’t come to our job and do that to us!
I literally cannot believe people are angry over this post saying “don’t fucking beat up actors”
I work at a haunted hayride and a guy tried to dropkick me in the chest and knee me in the face because he thought it was funny.
I got in trouble for breaking character to tell him to fucking stop.
Ive been hit so many times this season it has left cuts and bruises. Back in 2015 I was fucking choked and dragged behind a wagon because a lady was drunk and her son had to pry her hands off me because IM NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH YOU OR FIGHT BACK.
Most recently, a customer groped my breasts and twisted my fucking nipples. Apparently, she did it to AT LEAST twenty other actors.
THAT IS SEXUAL ASSAULT YOU ASSHOLES. ITS NOT OKAY.
Most recently a customer fucking kicked me and sent me to the goddamned hospital.
WHEN YOU GO TO A HAUNTED HAYRIDE / HAUNTED HOUSE, REMEMBER YOU LITERALLY PAID US TO SCARE YOU.
THE ACTORS ARE REAL PEOPLE.
DO NOT FUCKING HIT US.
Why the fuck would you even do this holy shit
Hey guys i know this is out of theme but that comment from @witchcryptid was me and my old url. I plan on working this job again this year if at all possible, so here’s an added psa:
If your family or friend(s) force you into a haunting, be upfront as best you can and tell actors as they come up “please do not scare me i am too anxious / scared”and9.99/10 times we will listen and leave you alone. just communicate with us even though we most often cannot communicate back.
We may be playing monsters, but we are NOT monsters.
Also, please remember to keep your hands off of us during your haunting, and also please try to step in or speak up if you see people trying to touch us, assault us, or talking about planning to touch or hurt a staff member.
We cannot do anything and will most likely get in legal trouble for touching you in defense.
Thank you and have a spooky fall
I…I feel really upset that this has to be a reminder ._.
I mean they should know you’re…justacting.
jesus christ…
I don’t even do haunted houses (I’m one of those aforementioned anxious people) but boosting the signal because this is seriously not cool.
Hey guys it’s that time!!
You paid for a ticket which means you consented to be scared!
As an ex haunt monster please for fucks sake if you KNOW your reflex is to strike when scared DO NOT GO TO THESE.
,
I accidentally punched an actor during a haunted maze because he popped out of the ceiling 5 inches from my face, and I immediately yelled out sorry and felt so fucking bad. I haven’t been to a haunted house or maze since because I now know I have a punching reflex.
To all the actors out there, I apologize on behalf of the accidental punchers. I’m so fucking sorry. And to everyone who punches actors on purpose, GO TO FUCKING HELL.
So I noticed that there were some people wanting some more of This Drabble“Caught” I did sometime ago so … *softly drops a part two*✨
I did end up Naming Whumpee A (Avery)&Whumpee B (Bryn)I tried to keep them more Unisex names and still used (They/Them) but it got really confusing half way through. ☠️
× × ×
Whumper softly pressed their lips to their glass, taking a short drink of their preferred brand of whiskey.
The dark amber liquid left a rough warmth as it made its way into Whumper’s system, causing them to feel a bit calmer and more relaxed than their usual abrasive and cold self.
Though only a little,
“Ouch!”
Whumper gazed down at Avery, who was on all fours on the floor in front of them, acting as their foot rest.
It had been nearly several hours now that Avery had been forced to stay in such a position, the cold, hard flooring beneath them only adding to the burning, numbing sensation that had formed in their elbows and knees.
“Something the matter, Avery..” Whumper spoke softly, their words faintly slurred from their mildly intoxicated state.
“Oh no, not at all..” Avery replied with a faint sarcasm that Whumper almost immediately picked up on, as they felt their arms buckle briefly under their own weight.
Whumper narrowed their eyes slightly towards Avery while digging their heels into their lower back, lifting themselves in the chair a bit to readjust their position.
“Agh– Ow!”
“Fuck Off, Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole!?”
Avery spat angrily towards Whumper, narrowing their eyes into a deeper glare, feeling a sharp pain radiating from the area where Whumper had dug into them.
There was a pause. Avery suddenly went dead silent as they lowered their head to the floor.
“P-please I-i’m sorry–” They softly started to whimper.
“Shh–”
“You were warned, Avery..”
Whumper snapped their fingers sharply, signalling his henchmen.
“Don’t! P-please it was an accident, I-i didn’t mean to curse or insult you!”
“Tch, I feel it’s a little late for that. Besides, this little back and forth is starting to bore me, it’s always the same, ‘You’re sorry’, ‘You won’t do it again’ yet here we are. Again.”
Avery looked up again after a moment, hearing the door open, seeing Whumper’s Henchman holding a medium length chain and attached at the end, Bryn.
‘Damn it – Fuck, fuck, fuck! What do I do, I can’t let them hurt Bryn!’
Avery thought in a panic as their eyes locked with Bryn’s momentarily before they were roughly jerked forward, causing them to abruptly lose their footing and fall to their knees.
“Bryn!”
Avery cried out suddenly before feeling Whumper once again dig their heel deeply into their back, causing Avery to let out a painful gasp as they dug their fingernails deeply into their palms.
Bryn weakley gazed at Avery, shaking their heads subtly from side to side as if to try to tell them to stop.
“Well now.. I do believe the deal was that if you misbehaved, Bryn would take the punishment, was it not?” Whumper swirled the whiskey around in a circular motion in the cup, watching it idly.
It took Avery a moment before they quietly murmured their response.
“Yes.. But I–”
“Shut it!”
Whumper raised their voice sharply, slamming the glass on the table beside them, causing Avery and Bryn to both flinch from the loud thud.
“I made it very, very clear to the both of you the second you trespassed onto my property. That is what you became, My property.”
Whumper spoke aggressively with a deep voice while they got up from their seat.
“If at all the both of you owe it to me for not reporting the both of your pathetic asses to the police, do you think you’d still be together then? Not at all.You should be grateful to me!”
Their voice boomed like thunder throughout the room as Whumper walked past Avery towards Bryn, watching their eyes grow with an uneasy fear.
Bryn’s body trembled unconsciously as Whumper approached, their hearts racing in their chests as their breathing became faster, a tightness formed deeply in their throat as they looked up helplessly towards Whumper, who stood only feet away.
“Are you scared, Bryn?” Whumper asked calmly, though there was a light sinister tone behind it that made Bryn’s skin crawl.
“Y-yes, S-sir..”
They replied almost immediately in a lower, shaken tone, almost barely audible to anyone in the room.
Whumper stayed still with an unreadable expression as the tension in the room filled, the air almost too thick to breathe as they slowly kneeled down in front of Bryn.
“Good.”
Whumper smirked maliciously as they reached their hand up, tightly gripping Bryn’s cheeks between their fingers.
“You should be.”
Before Bryn or Avery could say a word, Whumper let go of Bryn’s face before swiftly punching them across the cheek, causing Bryn to nearly hit the floor, though they stayed suspended inches from the ground as Whumper’s henchman held tightly to the chain, choking Bryn.
The impact from Whumper’s fist was hard enough to cause the flesh on the inside of Bryn’s cheek to cut into their teeth, leaving a strong taste of blood in their mouth, filling their senses, while a hot, sharp stinging pain radiated from their cheek.
“Stop! Whumper please, please stop!!”
Avery begged as they watched from their spot.
Every inch of them wanted to run for Bryn and save them from Whumper, but they didn’t dare move from their spot, knowing that if they did, Whumper would only punish Bryn more severely.
Whumper ignored Avery’s pleas as they grabbed the chain roughly from their henchman, giving it some slack, causing Bryn to suddenly drop face first into the floor, hearing them gasp in pain.
“Maybe.. Just maybe you’ll actually learn something this time.”
Whumper didn’t hesitate as they pushed Bryn over onto their stomach, so their back was lying face up.
They raised the loose end of the chain in the air while twirling it a few times before swiftly whipping Bryn across the back, listening to them let out a blood curdling scream of pain as a hot wave of pain washed over them.
Bryn screamed continuously, their voice cracking and weakening over the next several whips.
Their back was burning with a searing white hot pain that numbed their other senses to everything except the throbbing emanating from their backs.
Bryn couldn’t tell if their spine had been broken or not by now with how deep the pain had sunk into them.
Whumper watched their body tremble and twitch under them as they stepped to the side, dropping the chain to the ground while turning his gaze to Avery.
They sat there still, on all fours, petrified with fear and a deep concern for Bryn.
Their eyes widened with fear and shock, watching Bryn’s body suddenly but slowly curl into the fetal position as they hugged their legs tightly to their chest, whimpering and crying out in pain.
“Take it away.”
The henchman, unphased by Whumper’s display, nodded as they walked towards Bryn, grabbing them tightly by the collar while pulling them up forcefully, hearing their cries grow louder as they dragged them out of the room.
It didn’t feel like long before the henchman returned, though this time for Avery.
They stepped closer, roughly grabbing Avery by the hair, causing them to yelp and whimper in sudden discomfort as the henchman started to forcefully pull Avery away from them, leaving Whumper alone in their study.
//
The henchman opened a door after a few minutes of walking down the hall leading to the stairs into the basement, tossing Avery into the room while slamming the door shut before they even made contact with the rough carpeting beneath them.
Avery gasped and grunted as they hit the ground, taking a moment to try to process what they had just witnessed before hearing a soft whimper break the tense silence.
“Bryn!?” Avery suddenly looked up from the ground, seeing Bryn curled up in a tight ball in the corner of the room, slowly rocking themselves for comfort.
“Bryn.. I-i’m.. I’m so–”
“S-stop.. A-avery.. stop..”
They paused, hearing the broken, pleading tone in Bryn’s voice.
“Stop.. what Bryn?”
“T-this!“ Bryn snapped. “A-all this.. I-i can’t.. k-keep c-covering for you.. t-talking your p-punishments.. I-i can’t Avery..”
Avery stared at Bryn with wide eyes.
A deep sting of guilt and pain slowly hit them, causing their chest to tighten as their eyes started burning with tears.
“I’m.. s-sorry..”
“No.. y-you’re not.. o-or you’d just fucking listen.. I-it’s like y-you don’t c-care.. so P-please.. if y-you do.. Stop..”
Avery was speechless as they slowly moved back from moving towards Bryn.
A deep hurt sunk in, causing their heart to slowly break as they backed off more until their back was pressed tightly against the wall behind them.
All they could hear through the bitter silence was Bryn’s soft cries and faint wails of pain, making them feel even more guilty than before..
Okay listen this is incredibly stupid but ever since Rainbow Factory played on a shuffle playlist while I was doodling Lucanus I realized that Gladeholm is just Cloudsdale and if I have to live with that knowledge then so do y’all.
[ID: a digital sketch of Erdan. The sketch is mostly black and white, but some parts are colored. He’s an elf with curly hair shown from the chest up, wearing a button up shirt, vest, a bracer, and glasses. His face is covered in popped green blisters and his neck has a huge bruise all over it. He leans back and raises a hand, which glows with purple and blue magic, as he looks down and to the left.
There are three speech bubbles to his left. The first is Erdan speaking and it reads: “It’s easy to misjudge that floating city with its alluring decor and social psychology. But with all great things comes a great responsibility…”.
The second speech bubble, said by an off screen Beverly and written in cursive, reads: “Dude are you quoting Rainbow Factory-“
In the last bubble, Erdan replies: “Shut up it works.” End ID.]
CW: Graphic description of infected burn, blood, aftermath of being stabbed, passing out, bruises
“Whumpee?” Caretaker forced strength into their voice. “Whumpee, I’m going to get you down.” They staggered over to where the rope was tied at the wall and untied it, lowering Whumpee gently to the ground. Their arms screamed in pain at the use of torn muscles, but Caretaker ignored it— at least as much as they could.
Whumpee crumpled in a heap on the ground without even so much as an attempt to stand.
Caretaker sat on the ground next to them, just breathing for a moment before starting to untie them.
Whumpee whimpered as Caretaker moved their arms. It was easy to see that they had dislocated from hanging so long. In addition, Whumpee’s clothes were bloody and torn. They were covered in bruises and cuts— although thankfully none looked too serious.
The large burn on Whumpee’s left arm, however, looked extremely serious. It was yellow and oozing pus. The area was fevered— even hotter than the rest of Whumpee’s body. If they didn’t get help now, they weren’t going to make it much longer.
Caretaker pulled Whumpee against their chest, bracing themself to stand. They didn’t know how they were going to get up, but failure wasn’t an option.
“Whumpee.” They said softly. “Hey, I… I’m gonna need some help. Can you stand at all?” Whumpee didn’t answer, just looked up into Caretaker’s face with glassy eyes.
Shit. They weren’t going to be any help.
Caretaker closed their eyes and tried to brace for the pain they knew was coming. In one movement, they stood, drawing Whumpee off the ground as well. It took every bit of resolve they possessed not to scream.
Caretaker didn’t dare attempt to lift Whumpee. Instead, they dragged them down the hall and back into the med bay.
“Ah! You found them!” Whumper was waiting in the med bay for Caretaker’s return. “Are… they alivestill..?”
“Yes.” Caretaker snapped, using all of their strength and focus to get Whumpee up onto a hospital bed.
“You’re bleeding.” Whumper commented.
“Well, I wouldn’t be if someone else would’ve brought them in here.”
“That wasn’t our deal.” Whumper clicked their tongue. “You need to lie back down before you really hurt yourself.”
“I’m not lying down until I’m sure that Whumpee is okay. You said you’d allow me to help them. Unless you’re willing to modify our arrangement and get your medical staff to help Whumpee, I am willing to risk life and limb to make sure they’re alright.” Caretaker gripped the bedrail so hard that their knuckles turned white.
“I need you alive to carry out our agreement.”
“Then you better reconsider this whole fucking situation!” Caretaker snapped, stumbling across the room to rummage through a drawer. “I’m not going to do what you want unless you hold up your end of the bargain. You need me to do what you want. I won’t do anything until I know Whumpee is stable. If you want me to rest— if you want me to have my injuries treated— then you’re going to have to arrange for someone else to take care of Whumpee. Someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Whumper was quiet for a long moment. “… If I get one of my doctors to look after Whumpee and make sure they remain stable, you will agree to any and all treatments that I deem necessary to a fast recovery from your injuries. If you try to refuse a treatment or you try to undermine me once we get to the second part of our agreement, I’ll see to it personally that Whumpee doesn’t make it out of this room alive.”
“Fine. But as long as I do everything you say, you let them leave when I come back.” Caretaker braced themself against the countertop, no longer interested in the drawer open in front of them.
“Then it’s a deal. You have my word that one of my doctors will do everything in their power to keep Whumpee stable while you receive treatment and carry out your promise.”
Caretaker felt ready to pass out from relief as Whumper led them back over to their own hospital bed.
“You’re having the surgery that you refused earlier.” Whumper said as they helped Caretaker lay back down.
CW: Hanging from wrists, bruises, fever, infection, delirium, passing out, used as a punching bag
Whumpee whimpered as dozens of hands pushed them down and pulled at their arms. They felt ropes tighten around their wrists and, before they could truly register what was happening, they found themself hanging in the air, dangling by their wrists.
Strugglingat all intensified the strain on Whumpee’s shoulders tenfold. After only a moment of squirming, Whumpee gave up.
Someone struck Whumpee hard in the back, causing their already blurred vision to darken and spin as they swung from the rope. Even as they opened their mouth to speak, someone else struck them in the chest, knocking them breathless.
“—Why—?” Whumpee gasped as soon as they managed to get some air back in their lungs.
Laughter rang out around them and Whumpee struggled through the pain, trying to make their eyes focus on the people around them. Try as they might, the haze of pain and fever from infection made it impossible to distinguish the colors that swirled and bled together.
“Whumper treats us like shit.” One voice said.
“By the time we’re done, you’ll wish Whumper just killed you.” Came another voice, this one alarmingly close to Whumpee’s face.
“Don’t worry too much, though. No one ever makes it longer than a few days here.” Said someone else behind Whumpee.
Someone spun them.
—
Whumpee had no clue how long it had been. Hours? Days? Weeks?
A shaft of light cut through the dim interior of the room and Whumpee whimpered, fully anticipating another beating. Between their fever and swelling from a particularly bad black eye, they couldn’t tell who had entered the room.
After a long minute of silence, a wave of dizziness swept over Whumpee and they felt the room dropping away. Their feet touched the solid ground for the first time in a long time and, as the rope grew slack, their arms fell into their lap.
It took everything Whumpee had to stay on their knees and not fall over completely.
A cool hand cupped Whumpee’s cheek and a soft voice echoed in their ears. It sounded vaguely familiar. Whumpee couldn’t place it, nor could they understand the words the voice was saying.
The world tipped again and fell away as they were pulled gently sideways and against a body. Whumpee’s eyes fixated on the hazy features of someone peering down at them.
The person looked concerned, their lips moving in sync with the indistinguishable voice. Whumpee let their gaze drift over the entirety of the person’s face. As their eyes fell closed, they realized it was Caretaker.
CW: Restraints, stress position (brief), vague threats, bruises, hypersensitivity
Nicholas returned about a half an hour after Killian left. He took his time in Nicholas the chains and finding the keys to the cuffs.
“You been crying?” Nicholas asked as he started to unlock Shea’s wrists.
“… Yes, sir.” It was obvious. Even if Shea denied it, Nicholas would find out momentarily anyway.
“Did anything happen after the group left?”
Shea’s heart started to race. So it had been a test? Had he passed? “S-sir, one of the guests came back and tried to convince me to run away.”
Nicholas paused unlocking the cuffs on Shea’s ankles. “… Excuse me?” His voice sounded tense.
Was it not a test then? Shea was confused. “O-one of… of the guests came back and took the chains off. H-he… he tried to get me to leave with him, sir.”
Nicholas moved in front of Shea and grabbed his face, forcing Shea to look at him. “Who?” His voice was like ice and it made the blood freeze in Shea’s veins.
“I… I-I’m sorry, sir— I don’t remember his name.”
“Then what did he look like?”
“I-I… ah, I-I didn’t see his face.” Shea lied. Nicholas hadn’t set this up and Shea wasn’t about to get Killian in trouble. What Nicholas did to him was admissible by nature of what Shea was, but he feared Nicholas wouldn’t restrain his anger against a human any more than he did against Shea.
Nicholas’s expression changed. “Why are you such a fucking liar? You don’t know his name or his face? And you expect me to believe that one of my friends was in here, trying to rescue you?” Nicholas laughed.
Shea felt relief calm his heart as Nicholas went back to uncuffing him. “Sorry, sir.”
“You know I’m gonna have to punish you for that, though.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nicholas ran his hand up Shea’s back once he finished unlocking the cuffs, pressing his fingers onto some of the bruises he passed, then stroked a hand down Shea’s wing.
Shea gasped involuntarily as a shudder ran down his spine.
What on earth??
“Did you just try to pull away from me?” Nicholas asked, his voice bordering on snapping.
“N-no— no, sir— I don't—” Shea trailed off. What was that? He tried to think back to when the last time someone touched his wings was.
He couldn’t remember. Master Wilson never really touched him unless it was to slap him across the face or pull him by the arm. Nicholas was never allowed to touch his wings or hurt him before Master Wilson died. Since Master Wilson’s death, Nicholas had been much more interested in beating the hell out of Shea’s face and torso than anything to do with his wings.
Nicholas took a fistful of Shea’s feathers and pulled him back. Shea screamed.
Shea hadn’t screamed in years. Had he ever screamed? He didn’t know. He’d never felt pain this bad before. It was like every sensation in his wings was multiplied tenfold— he knew it wasn’t like this normally.
If Shea touched his own wings or if they brushed up against a wall, it just felt normal. He started to cry aloud as Nicholas finally released his wing.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nicholas asked, pulling Shea’s hair so his head tipped backwards to look at him. “You’re not usually such a crybaby.”
“I-I-I’m sorry, sir— I’ll sto-stop…”
If Nicholas decided to pull Shea’s feathers again, however, Shea doubted he could keep that promise.
Nicholas didn’t pull Shea’s wing again, but he did draw his hand slowly down the length of the wing. At first, Shea reflexively jerked away, but he consciously focused on not moving, knowing it would only irritate Nicholas. Shea shivered, whimpering quietly.
“Your wings aren’t just delicate, are they? They’re also hypersensitive.” Shea could hear the smirk in Nicholas’s voice. “You’re going to regret that I found out about this.”
CW: Bruises, partial nudity, stress position, put on display
The past week and a half had been hell for Shea. Without his father to reign him in, Nicholas had become a terror. Shea had sort of anticipated it, but the sheer level of brutality had been… unexpected to say the least.
“Shea.” Nicholas threw open the door to Shea’s room. “Come out.”
“Yes, sir.” Shea obeyed quickly, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.
“Take off your shirt.”
“Sir..?” Confused, Shea’s expression faltered.
“Are you questioning me?” Nicholas leaned back against a wall.
“N-no, sir.” Shea removed his shirt, revealing the mottled purples, greens, and yellows covering his body.
“Give it here.”
Shea handed his shirt over to Nicholas, who tossed it aside.
“Follow me.”
Shea followed Nicholas down the hall into the sitting room— a room with which he was well familiar. He was not familiar, however, with the new fixture in the center of the floor.
Mounted in the floor, there were three rings, distanced from eachother, with three chains attached to the rings. The chains were of three different lengths.
Nicholas grabbed Shea by the hair and pulled him over to the rings, pushing him down to kneel between them. “Fold your wings.”
Shea did.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Shea heard Nicholas open a drawer and remove something metal. Soon, he felt steel cuffs close over his wrists, followed by similar cuffs around his ankles. Nicholas attached the chains from two of the rings to each of these cuffs before crouching in front of Shea.
“Look at me.”
Shea raised his eyes and saw that Nicholas held a collar, which he placed around Shea’s neck. He didn’t know what he had done to warrant this punishment, but he knew better than to ask. Nicholas pulled the collar downwards and attached the short length of remaining chain to the collar.
In the end, Shea had to strain forwards to keep from hurting his neck. The chains on his wrists gave no slack.
“I’m having company over in about half an hour.” Nicholas said, standing. “My father kept you for the visual appeal and for the mark of status you show. He didn’t take advantage of it often enough.”
—
By the time a half an hour passed and guests started to file into the sitting room, Shea’s muscles were burning. The guests ignored him as they entered the room, saying hello to Nicholas and the other guests.
After another half an hour it was getting difficult for Shea to breathe.
Shea squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the conversation turn to him— people remarking about his wings and asking questions about his behaviors.
“Well, he’s not particularly well behaved.” Nicholas said at one point. “My father treated him too well— like a human, really. Not like the disobedient animal that he is. We’re dealing with his disrespect now, though.”
Shea gasped and bit back a yell as Nicholas pressed hard on a particularly bad bruise.
“Shut up.”
“Y-yes, sir…” Shea breathed. He could still feel the pain radiating outward from the bruise. He heard a few more sets of footsteps approach him.
“May I?” Said a new voice— one that Shea only vaguely recognized.
Nicholas didn’t give a verbal answer, but Shea guessed he must have either nodded or shrugged because this new person pressed their hand down Shea’s bruised arm, eliciting a whimper from Shea.
Nicholas pulled Shea’s hair, forcing him to look up as much as he could, straining his neck, spine, and arms. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”
Only a few minutes later, the group left the sitting room. As soon as they were gone, Shea started to cry. He couldn’t help it. He knew Nicholas could be back at any moment, but it hurt. And it was unnecessary.
The thought occurred to Shea that Nicholas might be jealous or upset by the words his father had spoken to Shea… Was this all out of anger?
Hours passed. Shea was shaking from the effort of holding his position for so long. The floor beneath his face was damp from both tears and sweat when the door again opened.
Shea braced himself.
But it wasn’t Nicholas. It was someone else. A voice that he had never heard before.
“Hey.” The person knelt next to Shea and immediately unclipped all three chains. It took less than ten seconds and Shea felt the relief in his arms and back instantly. “Are you okay?”
“What are you doing?” Shea whispered, his face going pale.
“Do you know where the keys for the cuffs are?”
“Don't— I mean— I— N-no, I don’t. Please put the chains back, sir…” Shea bowed his face to the ground, trying to resist stretching. Was this a test?
“Put them back? Why??”
“Master Nicholas— h-he’ll be livid… please don’t take them off…”
A hand brushed against Shea’s cheek and he flinched, but the contact was gentle. The hand gently guided Shea’s face up to look at the man who had released him from the chains. Shea avoided eye contact, but the person searched his face intently.
“I want to get you out of here.” The man said.
Shea hesitated, unsure of what he was supposed to say. “… Please put the chains back, sir…”
“Just look at yourself…” The stranger’s voice was gentle. “You’re bruised everywhere. I can tell your nose is broken. Please just come with me? You never have to see Nicholas again.”
“I-I could never— you— please forgive me— you don’t understand. I belong to Nicholas. Even if… even if I don’t like the way he treats me, I have to stay.”
The man let go of Shea’s face, reluctant. “… You really want me to put the chains back?”
Shea nodded, letting his face fall back to face the ground.
The man replaced the chains and traced a finger across a line of bruises on Shea’s back. “Sorry.” He said, pulling his hand away abruptly. “What’s your name?” He asked.
“Sh-Shea…” Shea was already trembling again from the strain.
“Shea? I’m Killian. And… I’m going to find a way to take you away from Nicholas.”
Shea discarded the promise and forgot it before Killian even left the room.
CW: Dehydration, refusal of care, questionable Caretaker, kicking, bruises, restraints
“Whumpee? I brought you something to drink.”
“Go to hell.” Whumpee spat, kicking at Caretaker before they even got close.
“Whumpee, let me help you. You need to drink something. You’re dehydrated.”
“I’d rather die. Go fuck yourself.”
Careful to stay out of Whumpee’s reach, Caretaker set the cup on the nightstand. “Aren’t you thirsty?”
Whumpee didn’t answer.
With a sigh, Caretaker braced themself and sat on the edge of the bed again. As they had expected, Whumpee continued kicking them.
Caretaker simply sat quietly, enduring. Again, Whumpee kept at it for about two hours before they finally stopped. Caretaker was sore.
“Whumpee, may I please change your bandages?”
“Go away!”
“Will you at least take a drink before I leave?”
“No!” Whumpee kicked Caretaker one more time.
Caretaker gave a curt nod. “Fine. But I’ll be back later to try again until your answer is yes to one of those requests.” And Caretaker left again.
—
“Whumpee?” Caretaker returned an hour later. “May I change your bandages?”
“Damn you, no!”
“Will you take a drink?”
“I said, no!”
Caretaker sat on the bed once more, biting the inside of their cheek as Whumpee kicked at their already bruised body. “I want to help you— I’m going to help you. I don’t care how many times you kick me, I’m not giving up on you.”
“Why won’t you just leave?? I don’t want your help! I don’t trust you!” Whumpee kicked Caretaker in the head.
Caretaker saw stars. “I know you don’t trust me, but I can’t just let you go. You’re going to get an infection!”
“I don’t care— just stay away from me.”
Caretaker closed their eyes and sat in silence until Whumpee stopped kicking them. Maybe it was all in their head, but they felt like it was a shorter period this time. They allowed the silence to hang in the air for a long moment before speaking.
“May I change your bandages?”
“No.”
“Will you take a drink?”
“You’rereallynot going to leave me alone until I say yes to something, are you?”
“Nope.”
Whumpee was silent.
Well, it wasn’t a no.
When Caretaker held the cup to Whumpee’s lips, they drank, glaring at Caretaker the whole time. Despite Whumpee’s glare, they drank the whole glass of water.
“Thank you.” Caretaker said softly before leaving the room.
[ID: an image of magnus and barry fighting the hunger, as seen in one of Magnus’ memories when he is in mannequin form. a column of black tar with streaks of red, yellow, blue, and green pierces Barry in the chest and with a smile he is saying “we’ll get ‘em next time”. above, Magnus is swinging an axe towards a column of tar with a wild expression of anger on his face. both characters are in grayscale. end ID]
1. I feel like Keli and Milagro are the reason Guy and Kyle made a kids menu. Kyle would have insisted on quality crayons too! Originally I wasn’t gonna shade this one, but after I finished the flat colors, I decided I wanted to. No idea what these three are talking about, but they’re having fun. And Guy absolutely has funko pop versions of himself and the other GLs!
2. Being a lantern can be hard. Hugs help.
3. Guy: I will teach them to question stupid orders!
Guy: *Gives a stupid order*
Keli and Milagro: *ignore order*
Guy: *surprised pikachu face*
4. Playing with concepts for Milagro’s lantern design for the comic. She really goes from “I am overwhelmed, but doing my best!” to “I am here to cause villains so many problems, and have the best time doing it.” I also really like the idea of her using sword/blade based constructs, which means she’s much more of a melee fighter.
