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gallowswhump · 2 years

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Snowy Memories Part II

After ignoring Sawyer's warning about his memories the Universe will remind him what is on the table.

AN: I am so happy with this piece I really hope you all give it a chance. LINK TO PART I

Content Warning: Star Wars OC, Begging, Beating, Implied Past Child Abuse, Blood, Choking, Emotional Abuse, Claustrophobia, Death, Gaslighting, Hypothermia, Manipulation, Hallucinations, Mentions of Drugs, Murder, PTSD/trauma, Mentions Physical Torture, Psychological Torture, Violence, Face Wounds, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Self Hate, Self Destructive Behavior, Environmental Whump, Greif, Angst, Pain

Sawyer stumbles back quite a lot being taken out of her feeling anothers emotions like that. Fear, pain, sadness. It isn’t a moment before the officer is scrambling to get up in a panic. He’s clutching at his side in pain and is looking around trying to figure out what is going on. He breathes out a long breath that hangs in the cold air. Sawyer is trying to catch her breath, fighting back the urge to throw up. He reaches down to his side surprised to find his side arm there and thinks for a moment but as he looks over Sawyer he thinks better of it. He’s still reeling from reliving every painful memory but he lays back down staring at the rocky ceiling of the ice cave. Both their breathing eventually evens out. A simple question leaves Ash’s mouth, “Why?”

“Why? Everything that I saw should be why enough.” Ash grit his teeth, “My life is not some show for you to watch and comment on.” “You’re lucky you still have a life right now.” He sits up garing, “You had no right!” “Oh yeah you're one to talk, imp dog.” Ash stands at that clutching his side. Sawyer stands to meet him even if he is a full head and a bit taller than her. His fingers twitch but he doesn’t move for the pistol on his side. He moves walking past the fire towards the exit but Sawyer stands between him and leaving. “Stand aside.” “No, you should lay back down. You have no idea what you're getting into out there.” He glances around, “If you had searched my ship enough you would have found some adverse environment gear along with a fire starter.” Sawyer grits her teeth. “Why are you acting like this? The Empire has done nothing but use and abuse your good will. why are you still loyal to them?!” “I don’t have to answer that Rebel Scum.” Strangely his words lack venom. “Is it what Korry would want you to do?” Ash’s composer breaks away into shock for a moment before anger bubbles up from deep inside of him. “You didn’t know him. You don’t get to use him like that! Now get out of my way!” “You don’t have to go back.”�� “No, you don’t get it.” Ash glowers. “I’m not stupid your rebels would not hesitate to try and get information out of me or use me as a barenging chip. Even if I did genuinely want to join and help.” “That isn’t true.” “What is it about you Jedi types who forget that we are at war? Both sides here. The rebels will use what they can to get the upper hand, who cares if it’s at the cost of one Imp commander.” “But- I could protect you.” “Maybe if I believed that I would consider it but I don’t think your power goes that far.”

The two stand and glare at each other for a long time in silence before Sawyer steps to the side. “Thank you.” Ash smirks at winning the verbal argument but it’s not kept long turning to a tired bitter frown. “This is going to be the last time I’m gonna let you go. If we cross paths and you’re still bent on the path of staying with the empire I will not hesitate.” Ash narrows his eyes at her. “I’m even less convinced now.” “Well then go out and freeze to death, go on.” Ash huffs brushing past her. He knows he can bear the ice and snow, the more time he spends with the jedi the closer he would be to treason or capture.

He grimaces as the cold hits his face. Quickly realizing the danger he could be in if he walked with his face uncovered, he slips off the top of his uniform, glad that he found it important to dress with an under thermal near an ice planet. Luckily the recent snow hasn’t been so heavy that he can’t see the tracks of him being dragged from his ship. The perfect form of navigation, noting that also a way to track back to the cave.

By the time he reached his downed ship he was freezing. His fingers rigid and numb even when protected by his heavy gloves, For an older woman he had no idea how Sawyer was capable of dragging him through the snow. He gets to the thermal gear first. Thermal cloak, heated gloves, and some heating pads. As he slowly regains feeling in his fingers he looks at the comms system. It’s barely damaged, it doesn’t work but it just looks like it needs a power source. He knew well enough how to rig up one to an external battery in a couple of minutes, it took him twice as long though the cold slowed his movements. He’s in a ball when he gets the comms back up and running, trying to return warmth to his hands. “This is Ash Hawthorn Commander 7285 does anyone read?” “Commander Hawthorn, you have been read.” “Do you have location data? Ship down. No point of reference.” He pulls out a data pad from under the command controls, glad to see it in working order but not surprised. “Commander sending data location.” A map of the area springs to life.

“Extraction requested.” “Extraction at the current location is impossible. There is an Imperial mine due north of your location. Should have limited resources. Wait for extraction there.” “Copy. Proceeding to location will give an update when at location.” “Read.”

He hates the idea of having to head back into the cold but he will freeze here. The cave is closer. He knows the cave is closer. No rescue mission means that unless he can get to an extraction point on his own he’s expected to die out here. Ash gets up looking around the crash for whatever supplies he would need. Water, an energy ration, and more thermal pads to keep warm. He could leave, this could be his escape from the empire. He could go back to Sawyer and defect to the rebels. It was too dangerous though, he thought about all of the risks. A trial that ends with execution, tortured for information, sold for info or anything back to the empire. That last one was worse depending on how it turned out. He could be outed to the empire as a traitor, that alone was a death sentence. Being outed as a force sensitive though, it could end in just death like he had seen a handful of times or possibly worse sometimes he knew that force sensitives would disappear and either never come back or come back as strange dark assassins or inquisitors. No he couldn’t go with Sawyer. He didn’t even know if she had a way off this planet. So, he eats a square of his energy ration to help his body stay warm as he sets off in the direction of this old imperial mine. He could only hope that he makes it there before nightfall. If this place was frozen over during the day he would hate to know what night would bring for him.

Mine was a strong word; it looked more like an ancient frozen over temple. The data pad told him he was in the right location though. Massive doors that looked more meant for giants than humans. He slowly approaches feeling anxiety run through his spine. This great sense of unease makes the hair on his neck stand up. He stares breathlessly up at the massive doors and he doesn’t even know how to feel. There is a relief of finally finding a place to get out of the cold and in hopes of finding his comrades. There was something deeper though something that turned his stomach in awe at the pure size and scope of the temple. Something drawing him in like this place was once familiar. He shakes off the feeling and quickly looks around. There is a large crack in one of the doors just big enough for him to squeeze through.

After clambering through a crack far too claustrophobic for comfort, the inside was just as frozen as the outside but large cliffs, blufts, and drops were accented by glimmering crystal and ice. His brow furrowed at the thought of what the Empire could even be mining here. He wondered if he was even in the right place, there wasn’t a hint of imperial presence here. Either way with night outside about to fall he was more willing to take his chances in this strange temple then with the frigid outdoors. He hoped deeper in would be warmer or at least there would be some place of stone that would be spared the wet snow and ice.

Heading deeper and deeper makes an anxious feeling come over him like he can see shadows out of the corner of his eye wherever he looks that retreat when he tries to focus on them. Along with that he can’t help but feel eyes on him, judging him. It’s the same sinking feeling he gets when he crosses paths with an Inquisitor. “Ash.” The man jumps as he hears the whisper quickly looking around for the origin. He can’t see anyone though, the cavern is silent. He carefully puts his hand on his blaster continuing further in. “Ash.” Another voice, a different one this time. He feels like he can tell where it’s coming from but even more now he thinks he needs to sit down and rest. He ignores the voice pressing on. The cave system was starting to wear on him. He turns as he feels a presence behind him there is nothing there when he turns around and so he quickly turns back only to have an overwhelming feeling of being lost. Suddenly the passage he was in opens into several and he didn’t remember there being so many options before he turned around. Ash places a hand on the wall, he closes his eyes taking deep breaths. They were ice caves, nothing more, he can not be letting so much get to his head. His vision snaps to one of the tunnels when off in the distance a voice calls out, “Ash Help!” His breathing pauses for a moment as he listens intently. He knew that voice, the sweetly deep voice of Korry. It’s not his voice, it can’t be his voice, but it sounds so close. He doubles his resolve, “Who is there!?” He demands taking a couple of forceful steps down the tunnel that he heard the voice coming from. He tries to listen but all that can be heard is the distant sound of wind and metal hitting stone…. Metal hitting stone that was the first he had heard that. Maybe he wasn’t as lost as he thought. A mining operation could be here. He turns away from the voice he heard earlier trying to suss out where the mining sounds were coming from. He closes his eyes slowly taking steps turning in place trying to get the best idea of the sound. When he opens them a face bloody and mutilated is in front of his. He gives a shout of surprise, stumbling back the pure shock knocking him off his feet. He moves away from the figure but stops clutching at the snow on either side of him when he realizes what he’s seeing. It’s Korry, he’s in his flight uniform sans helmet. The left hand side of his face is freshly burned and bloody. That eye has a white blindness to it. Skin hangs off his bone like an animal ripped into him and his hair was patchy missing chunks. Korry smiles, it’s his bright hopeful smile, with his state though it’s horrifying. Ash tries to control his breathing, control his heart rate but he doesn’t know what to do. What he’s seeing can’t be real. “Ash!” “Korry?” He slides back further which turns Korry’s face to one of a confused frown. “What’s wrong?” Ash stares in disbelief, his stomach turns into knots and it’s taking every ounce of willpower to not throw up. Korry frowns more, “Oh…I thought this is how you wanted me.” “What?” The officer looks at him bewildered. “You gave the order that did this.” “No I-” Ash moves further back using the momentum to get to his feet. He had to be Hallucinating, there must be something in the air causing this. “No?” Korry’s brows furrow. “It was an order. I made sure you gave it twice... Why did you do this Ash? We could have left, I asked you to leave.” Ash doesn’t have an answer, this wasn’t happening, this wasn’t real. He turns and starts running, not caring where he was going; he just needed to get away.

His nightmare wasn’t over yet though as he was running he found himself sliding to a halt as another figure stood in his way. A Sathari the burn of a blaster bolt straight through her head. An image that has forever been burned into him. “Kari,” Breathlessly as a reflex before he takes a step back looking over her.

She’s more reserved than Kari. Tears are already rolling down her face, “Ash why did you have to kill me?”

“There wasn’t another option,” The answer is reflexive before he covers his mouth.

“There were other options, all of them just meant leaving the Empire.” He shakes his head and turns away; he can't hear this. “Or were you just scared of what I could turn into?” He snaps his head back to look behind him. Kari had changed; she was no longer the cheery bright bird he knew her as, nore the image of her corpse that was seared into his memory. She was dressed from head to claw in black and red with clear markings of the inquisitors. A pointed mask to accommodate her beak. Ash’s eyes widened and he stumbled away from her as a flick of her wrist revealed a red lightsaber. He rushes forward into a full run. The thoughts from the rational part of his brain were lost. This felt so real he just had to get away.

He stumbles through the snow, his muscles screaming in pain especially since he had very little rest from the crash he was just in. Even worse is the longer time ticked on the longer it had been since his last actual sleep. He doesn’t even know if he’s being chased but he doesn’t want to look back. The thought of Kari as an inquisitor was a harrowing one. Kari was so kind and full of life. There was no doubt that would have been her fate if he hadn't… the thought is lost as he slides down a slope turning and pressing his back into a side opening just to catch his breath. Cold air rakes his insides as he catches his breath. It didn’t even feel like he was taking in air, just drowning in pure ice. He coughs and sputters when he regains his senses he hears an echoing voice Korry’s again. “Were you scared of what I could become?” “Please just stop!” He looks around and out of the shadows steps Korry again. This time he was older, just the slightest hint of stubble, dressed in the full orange uniform of the rebel pilots. “What are you scared of Ash?” He turns away shaking his head. “You’re not real, this isn’t real.” “You’ve been running away from the end, but which end do you want?” Korry steps to the side of the passage welcoming Ash further as it seems the passage lightens. He hesitantly steps forward before remembering what potentially is behind him. He walks forward finding himself faced with three bodies covered in cloth. He checks behind him and the Rebel Korry is still there stepping between him and where he had just come from. He doesn’t want to check but he feels compelled, kneeling next to the first one on the left hand side. He turns his head in disgust as soon as he pulls the cloth back. It was himself wearing white flowing clothing. His arms crossed over his chest. He takes a look again covering his mouth. This double had gone gray at the temples. Older maybe by well hopefully twenty years. Though Ash was distinctly aware of the fact he had already started to dye his hair at the roots. He turned over the medal with the rebel symbol embossed on it. For Superior service was etched into the back and Ash scowled in disgust pulling the sheet crassly back over the corpse. He glanced back for just a moment at the figment of Korry. The man was watching with interest but those big expressive eyes didn’t hide any of the hurt that was there. This wasn’t the real Korry, there was no reason to feel bad, for his heart to sink to think he caused that. He did however step to the next one. It was him nearly as he was now fully in uniform. A myriad of blaster bolts and vibro ax wounds littered his body and tore up his uniform. Blood pooled from some of the wounds like they were still fresh. He was sprawled, like he had been left. No distinguishments, just an Imperial Officer left by both sides. Not worth the trouble to give a proper burial too. He dreaded what the last corpse would offer him. He moves kneeling. He debates for just a moment before he pulls back the cover. He’s much older, his hair gone completely gray. He reaches out and touches the rank plaque that denotes him as a Grand Admiral; the numerous metals below it turn his stomach. Distinguished medal of Imperial Honor, the Medal of Valor, and the Emperor's Fist. He doesn’t know why he feels sick looking over this. It should be what he wants, every major honor, the highest rank. He moves the sheet back over himself, turning his head away. He looks too much like his father. The thoughts of how many lives were ruined to obtain those medals and that rank.

He places one hand firmly on the ground with the intention of getting up before his world is turned again. He feels a hand against his throat and he’s pushed back into the wall. He hisses hand moving down to his blaster before he’s faced with the reality of his father. “You wouldn’t.” Ash growls, “Try me.” “Why didn’t you tell anyone what you were? Think about how the empire could have used that!” A moment of fear flickers over Ash’s face the idea of his father knowing about his powers was terrifying. He knew his father was far away though that it was this stupid ice temple causing these visions. “No.” Is simply what Ash says and his father disappears turning into a cold mist. Ash is left alone, left to breathe. The bodies were gone. Korry was gone. He can tell now that this tunnel was a dead end. He turns and slowly makes his way back the way he came. He feels exhausted but spending time resting in this cold would bring certain death. He could only hope that this was over. However he had throught to soon cause as it crossed his mind he heard the distinct hum of a Lightsaber activating. He quickly turned, and he came face to face with himself. No longer was he in the gray-green officer uniform. He was now in an armored black uniform accented with red. A red lightsaber violently pulses and horror comes across Ash’s face as he realizes that the hilt to the lightsaber was Kari’s. Ash wants to run knowing this can only end badly for himself. The dark eyes of his counterpart watch him, “I forgot how much of a traitor you are, traitor and coward.” “I’m not either of those things.” “Really? Hiding such a useful tool from the empire. Not groveling, begging to let them use it. Not to mention hiding this,” He turns over Kari’s corrupted lightsaber in his hand. Ash matches his counterparts steps forward with steps back, “I’m loyal to the empire.” “You waste your wealth on the poor who turn to the rebels, who turn out to be traitors.” “Do you even hear yourself?” “I do, anything less then full devotion to the empire is traitorism.” “Stop, you aren’t real, you aren’t me.” “Oh but I am. I’m you if you turned over yourself fully to the empire. If you’re anything but me you deserve everything that happens to you like the traitor you are.” Ash took the hint and he turns, running. He knows though that if this is an inquisitor he needs to be smart not fast. He keeps his vision forward as he resolves to make a sharp turn down a tunnel using the ice and momentum to help him around the corner before continuing. He needs something to break the gap between him and his other counterpart. He turns his head to check before finding them right behind and gaining. He keeps his eyes forward heading down another sharp turn and then slinking his way down another immediately after to put some potential wrong directions between him and himself. It doesn’t work though as he can hear gaining footsteps. He is finally faced with hopefully a way out. A small patch of deep looking water that seems to run under into a tunnel. He can only hope that there is an opening at the other end. He quickly breaks another one of the thermal packs in his pocket before he jumps into the water.

The initial shock of cold makes him freeze up but he takes a moment to regain his composure and not breathe in like his body wants to. He makes his way through the narrow underwater tunnel in front of him and it is just his luck that it’s short and before long his head is above water. He takes in a deep breath before he makes his way over to the frozen edge and pulls himself out of the freezing water. He knows it’s a bad idea to stand immediately but he quickly realizes that it doesn’t matter. This was a dead end. There was no way out but back. Everything that he just went through him hits him in that moment like a brick. He pulls his knees up to his chest and sets his forehead on them. Slow long breaths is what he uses to try and focus to try and not break down. It’s no use as tears start to fall from his eyes and he lets out a ragged sob. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be, it was so fantastical, but it felt so real. It was some kind of cruel joke at his expense. He didn’t know why it happened either, something must have laced the air here, some sort of hallucigen but it was such a vivid hallucination. He rubs over his face taking in a deep breath. He needed to get it together and find a way out of here. Eventually, he blinks his eyes free of tears and is surprised to find something glinting and glowing under the snow at his feet. He quickly brushes the snow away, his hand hitting a strange gem. He pulled it closer to himself, the gem pulsed with an unknown energy and it glowed a soft blue color with just the slightest hint of purple. He’s not sure what to do with it but like Kari’s saber he felt like it was important. Even more so, it felt like the gem was a piece of him. He runs a hand through his hair knowing that no matter where he came out from this he wasn’t going to be in an easy position.

He stands taking in his surroundings. He notices that there does look to be a crack in one of the walls that he could probably make his way through. He glances back down at the crystal in his hand. Kyber crystal, he knew the name and its use in making weapons but he just wasn’t sure of any more of the specifics. He shakes his head and pulls off the top of his uniform from around his face. He carefully turns the outer jacket partly inside out finding the hidden pocket deceptively sown into the inner lining. It was against regulation but many officers had made such modifications with the excuse of being able to hide things if caught by the rebels. He carefully placed the Kyber crystal inside. It is now hidden away along with Kari’s lightsaber. He takes a deep breath thinking about going back to Sawyer. Maybe there was enough that he could make it but a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him it wasn’t true.

He mulls over the idea as he carefully replaces his uniform making doubly sure that the hidden items could not easily be detected. Eventually, he makes the choice. Sawyer was still too dangerous. Knowing her trust of him though meant that at any point jumping off from the Empire would be acceptable. Sawyer was right, and he knew it. They had been using him but his station gave him heightened freedoms. If he left now all of his efforts would be towards the Rebel’s war. While they took in refugees depending on any particular commander the lives of civilians were rarely counted for. Staying with the Empire ment being able to subvert from the inside and having a better idea of where he stood.

With that he takes his resolve to venture back out into the ice caves.

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antipsichotic · 1 year

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Even If; Chapter 2: Obsidian Terror

Chatper 2 of Even If, a whump fic starring two of my OCs + my custom written antisepticeye.

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER (1)]

Content Warning: needle, blood, creepy whumper, tranquilizer, cell

Word count; 2,132

This is not a roleplay starter or thread. Please do not respond to it as such. Minors Do Not Interact. Other reblogs and comments are welcome.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been out. It felt like such a long time. Swimming around in his own head, unable to find the ladder with which to pull himself out. His hands and feet were starting to prune up, and his ability to stay above the water was growing more difficult by the second. Minute? Hour? He couldn't tell.

After what felt like days, even weeks, Wrynn's consciousness began to return. The cool water faded, and his head grew heavy with what could've been rocks, placed directly into his skull. It ached and pulsated, the pangs running behind his eyes, which struggled to open. His eyelids felt heavy, and he was only able to open them in a squint. Wrynn blinked in an attempt to brush out the grime in his lashes, although it didn't help.

As he awakened more, he began to notice his physical condition. Wrynn was unable to move his hands, evidenced by the way they did not respond when he tried to wipe the gunk from his eyes. They were tied behind him, a thick rope entangling his wrists together so tightly his blood circulation was nearly cut off. The pressure in his fingers and palms proved such, the blood piling up in them causing them to warm. He attempted to move his legs, but they were in the same situation as his hands; tied to the chair in a rough, unforgiving knot. Heat developing his his feet and ankles. His shoes must have been removed, too.

Warm. His hands and feet were, but the rest of him was not. Wrynn felt cold air traveling up his arms and legs. Wasn't he wearing pants before he blacked out? Obviously the jacket he'd been wearing was no longer, and the short sleeve shirt beneath it would provide no coverage. But his legs being barren made less sense. He glanced down, and to his surprise, he sat in restraints wearing his boxer shorts.

The rest of him started to shiver. The room was quite cold, and his ears picked up the soft hum of what was most likely an AC unit. He could not see it, though. Wrynn blinked once more, and quickly realized his vision was not botched; he was surrounded in murk, a single dim light hanging above his head. It covered maybe a foot or two in front of him, and he was barely able to look at himself.

The cloud lurking in his mind was more or less clear, and the worry about where he was or what the ever loving fuck happened to him heightened. The last memory he could recall had been of trying to walk himself home after spending the late evening at Robyn's apartment. He remembered the figure at the end of the street, watching it grow, and then.. the prick in his throat.. the words they spoke as he left this plane.

The realization hit Wrynn like a massive bus.

Whoever it was that night had drugged and kidnapped him, and brought him to this dark, cold, silent room and tied him up, leaving him defenseless and clueless.

"Hello!?" Wrynn called out. His voiced echoed closely. The room he was in must've not been very big, and well insulated. No chance of outsiders hearing. Possibly a basement, he finally deducted.

What he was unprepared for, however, was the faint shuffling sound coming from the dark. It was followed by heavy, hard footsteps. Very similar to the ones he heard the night of his abduction. He was so sure-

"Hey!" Wrynn exclaimed. The person grew closer, the light beginning to show on them. "Who the fuck are you?! What's going on?!" He hissed, teeth clenching in unease. His brow furrowed, chest lifting and falling with tension in his muscles. His mind raced, and he absentmindedly struggled against the ropes.

When the person fully entered the light, Wrynn stopped every movement in his body. His eyes fully opened, wide with terror. His jaw fell open ever so slightly, trembling, as he took in the appearance of his captor.

He was a very tall man; 6 feet at a minimum. Forest green fluffy hair sprouted from the top of his head, shaved brown encircling underneath it. His ears were stretched and had tunnels in them, somewhere around a size of 12mm. Eyes solid black, as if he had balls of obsidian in his eye sockets. Lips turned into a nauseating smile. A slash across his throat- could someone survive such a gash? His skin was deathly pale, as though he were a walking corpse. With a previous injury to that extent, he could be..

His voice was no more pleasant than his voice.

"Hello, Sweet Prince." Anti's disgusting growly voice hummed, head twisting to the side. He made eye contact with Wrynn, who sat unmoving. His jaw came to a close, though he was still unable to respond.

"Struck silent, hm?" Anti purred, beginning a leisurely stroll around his bound prey. "I would be, in your position." Wrynn attempted to follow him with his head, though he was soon behind him. This is where he stopped; where Wrynn would not see him.

As he came to a stop right behind him, Wrynn's pulse began ringing in his ears. He jumped when Anti's voice damn near materialized right next to his head.

"I've been looking for you for a very long time, Sweetest.." A shiver fell down Wrynn's spine, his eyes stinging as they grew wet.

"I know your secret." Anti continued on, hot breath a small relief on his icy skin. His voice trickled with a taste of instability.

Could this guy be some sort of mental institute escapee? There had to be some explanation. Something.

"..what?" Wrynn finally managed to croak, his voice small and timid. His eyes were stuck facing forward, for fear of turning and seeing those dark, insanity-driven eyes again. Once more, that familiar hot blanket of dread coated his skin. His shivers were now of panic and freezing. Had it gotten colder?

"Don't act so oblivious." Anti dropped the sweetness of his tone. He walked back around to the front of Wrynn, onyx eyes somehow showing his aggravation, though there was nothing else in them. Wrynn cringed as they infected his line of sight.

His smile had fallen into an annoyed frown.

"I know what you were. What you've been, and what you are now." He hissed. "You may be able to trick everybody else with this foolish disguise," he gestured generally over Wrynn, "..but not me. I can see through you like a glass pane, my Beloved.."

"N-No, you have the wrong guy, I-" Wrynn's protest was cut short by his booming, almost.. glitchy voice?

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" Anti roared, taking several steps towards him, arm swinging around his torso with an intense force. His fist made contact with Wrynn's cheek, and the chair he was strapped to rattled on the floor, swinging backwards for a moment. The pain was both dull and sharp; the beginnings of a bruise forming on his face, as well as the slices within his mouth from his teeth smashing into the inside.

Wrynn released a whimper, his dampening eyes falling to tears as the pain struck him.

"You will learn," the other huffed, "to not lie to me. Do you understand?" Wrynn could only nod. He winced when Anti gripped his jaw and forced it upward, giving him no choice but to look up to him.

"I will beat manners into you. And then I will not stop." His empty eyes bore into Wrynn's skull like a drill. Tears became a waterfall. "You belong to me now. I will create and mend you into my pet. I will tame you into a submission you never would've dreamed humanly possible." His voice was now right in his ear, grip tightening along the now purpling splotch on his face. Wrynn attempted to shift his head side to side, any attempt to object, but he was met with another smashing blow to his nose.

With another cry out into the world, blood from his nose began to pour down his face, mixing with his flow of tears to create a disgusting combination.

Suddenly, Anti's hand took hold of Wrynn's hair. It dug deep, down to the roots, where he could control his head movement. He jerked his head backwards, and all Wrynn felt was a warm, wet thing slide up his throat and to his chin, where the blood and tears mixture had fallen.

A satisfied growl alongside a giggle escaped Anti, and he kept Wrynn's head tilted all the way back.

"Oh, Sweetest, your blood and tears are like butterfly milk for my heart.." He began to laugh crazily, his grip tightening on Wrynn's hair, if it were possible for it to be any tighter. He released, stepping out of the light. There was the sound of a metal drawer opening, being sifted around in, and then closed once again. Anti turned to return to the frame of light, standing behind Wrynn.

Oh god, oh no.. this is it. He's going to kill me.

With a quick movement, Anti pulled Wrynn's head far to the side, fingers gripped onto his hair follicles. Without hesitation, there was a sudden prick in his throat. It was painful, and as Anti pushed the plunger in pretty quickly, he could feel the contents rush into his vein.

Wrynn anticipated the quick fall to sleep again, awaiting the life in his bones to drain. Anti removed the needle and returned to his table out of sight before Wrynn began to feel anything; once he came back, however, it's effects had started.

He was immobile. He could no longer struggle, or even hold up his head. It flopped to the side, eyes wide open and conscious. This caused his arms to fall as Anti cut the ropes to his wrists, and then each ankle.

His appendages gasped for the air they'd been given. The blood beginning to flow again throughout his body, and the tension living within his hands and feet being given sweet release. They'd slowly developed from blue to red once again, the heat leaving and bringing sweet coolness to them.

But he could not give a sigh of relief. He could not move about with his newfound freedom.

Anti was once again out of the sight of the light for a moment, settling his tools back into place presumably. He returned to his motionless catch, lifting him from the chair in a bridal carry. His head lolled backwards, hanging limply and bouncing with every step Anti took.

He could not tell where he was going. There was no other light; how did Anti know where he was going? Surely he could see no more than Wrynn in this moment. He could not ask.

Then, there was the creaking sound of metal. A brief feeling of falling, and then the sudden clashing of hard concrete against Wrynn's spine and skull. He made a thudding sound as he fell, and although he attempted to groan upon impact, it only came out as a soft hnnngg. His pulse boomed in his head and back, increasing the rate of hot tears flowing down his cheeks.

"I can't risk you trying to escape, my Beloved.." Anti purred from behind the bars, shutting the door to the cell with a loud clink. By the sounds of it, he'd locked it with a key, maybe even several. Wrynn couldn't tell; he couldn't see, much less move.

Anti crouched down beside where Wrynn's head lay, his eyes spaced out into the direction it had fallen. Anti let out a sound, similar to that of a cat purring, in happiness.

"Finally.. after all this time.. you belong to me."

He lingered for a while, before standing once more. Wrynn listened to his firm steps walking away, slowly fading. He heard the softer creak of a door opening, and saw a tinge of light ever so slightly out of his view. It lingered for a moment, and then the steps continued, the door slamming and the light following it.

Wrynn lay, silent, motionless, aching. Every inch of his body wanting to lash out, scream, cry, beg for mercy of any kind of differing level. But there was nothing within him. Silent tears soaked his blood stained shirt, incapable of soothing himself. Shivering with no cover, no protection from the unending cold. Anti's saliva dried onto his throat and chin. Bones crying in agony.

His retinas were burned, the image of those daunting, hollow black eyes sticking into every part of his vision. They danced in the darkness, taunting his frozen body throughout the night, until his mind finally gave in to the exhaustion.

[NEXT CHAPTER (3)]

#even if; chapter 2: obsidian terror #even if #even if chapter 2 #even if chapter two #chapter 2 #chapter two #creepy whumper #whump #whump fic

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bump-of-whump · 4 years

Text

More Snarky Whump Prompts/Starters

“Bet you $100 that’s infected.”

“I’m not going to coddle you this time, you made the choice to overdo it. Suffer the consequences.”

“One of these days, you’re not going to get back up.”

“You can’t keep rushing headfirst into danger and not expect get hurt!”

“I don’t know who told you you’re invincible, but you’re not.”

“There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid! I don’t know why, but you keep picking ‘stupid!’”

“Um…that is not how bandaids work.”

“I can’t tell if I’m more relieved you survived or angry you almost got yourself killed in the first place.”

“The shape you’re in, you couldn’t even take on a feather duster!”

“What happens when I’m not here to patch you up anymore, huh?”

“Did you make a deal with the devil or is your guardian angel working overtime?”

“You said you had a ‘small injury!’ This is not small!”

“The way you were downplaying this, I thought you stubbed your toe but there is bone coming out of your skin!”

“Sometimes I swear you’re trying to get hurt…”

“I warned you it wasn’t going to go well, but you didn’t listen.”

“You’re looking at weeks of wound healing here. Literal weeks!”

“You’re not familiar with the concept of taking it easy, are you?”

“I’d be surprised if you could make it down the hall without collapse.”

#whump #dialogue starters #dialogue inspiration #whump prompt #sentence starters

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Note

Colour symbol prompts

Fluff: black: protection

John protecting Scott

The Role of Protector

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Characters: John, Scott

Uh, so I kinda maybe missed the "fluff" part of the prompt. Whoops. Ah well - this prompt intrigued me a lot so who knows, I might write some more protector!John at a later date - hell knows I love it when Scott's being protected by little brothers for once, and there's a large scope for that out there (I already have a second idea for John, which might actually tend more towards fluff than this one - not that that's particularly hard...)

4am seems to have snuck up on me without warning, so while I have proof read this I can't guarantee it was a perfect proof read... But some protective!John (and a nice side dish of Scott!whump as well).

Colour Symbol Prompts

It wasn’t often that John found himself in this position. Spending most of the year on Thunderbird Five had something to do with that, of course, but it was hardly the only factor at play. The fact that the only brother with him at the moment was Scott was another – a younger brother, with the possible exception of Gordon, was somewhat more likely to put John in his current position, but Scott was a different matter entirely.

As big brother and former military with the skills to match, even if he didn’t like to show them, Scott was the protector of the family. It was a role he hoarded viciously, because if it had fallen to one of the others then, to Scott’s mind, he’d failed.

John would disagree. Their big brother was still only human himself, and John had a long list of grievances attached to the way he seemed unable to step back and recharge even for a moment. There were times, though, where the choice was stripped from Scott, leaving him vulnerable and leaving the role of protector to settle elsewhere temporarily.

It was normally Gordon, for all that he was fourth out of five. Military steel skipped over Virgil – too soft, Gordon had confided in him before, although John knew it wasn’t a complaint, or sleight against the brother between them at all. Being soft against a world determined to tear itself and everyone inside it apart on a regular basis took its own strength, and Gordon knew that better than most. The steel skirted around John himself, too, although he liked to think he still had sharp edges when he needed them – the fact that he was rarely there in person was just another reason for the role to pass him over. None of them were ready to let the steel go near Alan.

Gordon wasn’t there, off on the other side of the world with Virgil rescuing yet another fishing trawler in distress. Alan was stuck in the world of homework, leaving John alone with his big brother.

His barely-conscious big brother, slumped against a cave wall where John had deposited him despite Scott’s best efforts to the contrary. Blood was blotching the bandages hastily applied to his shoulder; those would need changing soon, but John had other priorities to worry about first. International Rescue didn’t carry weapons, but both Scott and Gordon had proved that with enough creativity most of their equipment could be utilised as such. Given the situation, John had taken a leaf out of their book – and the grapple gun from Scott’s hip, which he was currently aiming with less surety than he’d like at the narrow entrance to the cavern they were hiding in.

The distress call had been a set-up. John was beyond relieved that he’d been nudged out on the rescue by Scott, who’d declared that he needed the practice with Earth-rescues and it was just a simple one so it would be good to get his eye back in. Their assailants had been prepared for Scott.

They had not been prepared for John.

Although, to be fair, John had also not been prepared to see Scott collapse a little way ahead of him, nor for the gunshot that had immediately preceded that. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d got both himself and Scott out of there without either of them taking any more bullets, but if pressed his guess would be that they’d been too surprised that Scott wasn’t alone to shoot immediately.

John had dragged his brother back, away from the assailants, and run through the cavern system as best he could with Scott injured and unco-operative to the sounds of angry shouts and pursuit. EOS had chirped in his ear that unauthorised personnel were attempting to gain access to Thunderbird One – she’d locked down the Thunderbird before anyone successfully got inside, but that had still meant that their only way out was blocked.

Instead, it was a waiting game – although it felt like a particularly dangerous form of hide and seek, if he was honest. He’d got in contact with the GDF via EOS, and they’d promised they were on their way. He just had to keep both Scott and himself safe until they did.

The small cave with its narrow entrance had been a find by EOS. Scott, of course, had tried to make him hide in there while he claimed he’d draw them away, but while that had made some sense in the form of the trail of blood leading right to them, it also made absolutely no sense for the same reason. John’s response had been to manhandle his unsteady and rapidly paling big brother into the cave and push him to sit down before he fell down.

His brother had not been best pleased, but John had been far more worried about the bullet and blood loss than keeping Scott happy. Still was, because despite the painkiller and bandaging, Scott was slipping further and further towards unconsciousness. John estimated he had two more minutes, at best, before Scott passed out entirely.

The GDF were more than two minutes out. It was touch and go if the blood trail would lead their assailants to their current location within two minutes. John tightened his grip on the borrowed grapple gun and swallowed.

He didn’t know if it was Scott in particular they were after, or if they’d just been planning to attack the first IR operative they saw. The lack of reliable data rankled; John despised being blind. EOS was digging, but so far nothing of note had come out of that.

But at the end of the day, what they wanted didn’t matter. They’d hurt Scott, they were hunting both of them, Thunderbird One was under assault, and John wasn’t normally the one with the role of protector on his shoulders but today he was, and he was going to do it justice.

They wouldn’t hurt Scott again. It didn’t matter if John had to use the grapple gun in ways it was not supposed to be used, or if he had to use his own body as a shield. He’d keep Scott safe.

The sound of something soft hitting the floor, which had to be Scott passing out because there was nothing else to fall, came at the same time as the voices. Angry voices, clearly following the blood trail, and John tensed.

All his instincts as a rescue operative were screaming for him to hurry to Scott’s side and check his condition. Common sense kept him where he was. Scott was around a craggy corner from the narrow entrance, impossible to see from the main cavern. As long as John didn’t move, there was no way they could get to Scott without going through him.

He kept his breathing low and even, counting his breaths silently to keep them under control. John wasn’t a fighter. Give him a computer and he’d destroy his target before they even realised what was happening, but in person was another matter entirely. He’d never even been able to scare off bullies at school, let alone armed assailants when all he had was the rescue gear in his and Scott’s uniforms.

There were many ways to win a war. Scott or Gordon would tackle the problem head on, offence the best form of defence, but they were trained for that. John wasn’t. John just had stories, some pranking experience, and his brain.

He didn’t need to beat their assailants. He just had to hold them off until the GDF arrived.

The voices were getting closer. Closer, closer, closer. John’s breathing hitched despite his best efforts to the contrary. Timing would be key. If he was even slightly out, then he’d have to fight for real, and while he’d stand his ground, he had no delusions about being able to win. He was too soon down from orbit for that, for starters.

They were close enough now for him to make out the words. Any chance that they had no idea where he and Scott were was destroyed by their discussions about the blood trail they were following. A blood trail that led straight to Scott.

John swallowed again. Sweat beaded on his brow, but he didn’t dare raise an arm to wipe it away. Both hands were locked around the grapple gun, still aiming through the narrow entrance. He couldn’t mess this up. Scott was – unconsciously, unwillingly – depending on him.

He could see them now. They hadn’t spotted him, too intent on the blood trail across the stone floor, but that could change at any moment. Three people, and he knew there were more but hopefully the others weren’t on hunting duty. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best chance John was going to get.

It was the only chance he was going to get.

He pulled the trigger.

It was Scott he had to thank for the extensive knot knowledge, his big brother coaching him through the Rescue Scouts badges even when he just wanted to get the stargazing ones and leave it at that. Grapple cables weren’t rope, but they were strong and sturdy yet still malleable enough to loop over and around as required until he’d managed a makeshift net. Cable ties from his own baldric, meant for repairs in space, had been deployed as reinforcements.

Lay the net just so, set up large chunks of rocks to fall when hit in the sweet spot, and a rudimentary pulley system from yet another grapple cable – Scott’s baldric had been scavenged bare of useful items, including the trauma kit that was trying and failing to keep the blood in his body – and he had a way to contain the first wave of approaching assailants.

Hopefully.

John watched with bated breath as it all snapped together, cable-net wrapping around the assailants and hoisting them dramatically into the air, counter-balanced by the weight of as many rocks as he’d been able to shift in the short timespan he’d had to set up the trap. There was furious yelling.

A gunshot sounded.

More furious yelling.

The trap held.

How long it would hold for, John didn’t know, but he did know that he’d hear it if they escaped, so with a shaky exhale he backed away from the narrow entrance, clipping the now-empty grapple gun to his own baldric, and hurried to Scott’s side.

The bandages needed changing. John rolled him onto his side, putting him into the recovery position to keep him stable, and dug out fresh supplies. Scott didn’t stir as he stripped away the old, bloodstained, linen and replaced it with fresh strips. A check of his pulse told John what he already knew – Scott was still alive, but had lost far too much blood.

If John had managed to capture all of the assailants, his plan had been to get Scott back to Thunderbird One and head straight for the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, that had not been the case, so he was forced to accept Plan B – wait for the GDF to show up and hope they arrived before any other ill-wishers.

John had only had enough equipment for a single trap.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #john tracy #scott tracy #drabbles #thunderwhump #janetm74 #the roles of protector

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

Unboxing

This time there’s a pov change in it.

This is a series, here´s the Masterlist

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker

TW:// Pet whump, slavery, human trafficking, dehumanization, drugged whumpee, implied torture and physical abuse, implied fear of noncon, collars and conditioning.

The blindfold on his eyes was a bit tighter than expected, but he wouldn’t complain out loud. He knew better than that.

He was dehydrated and restless. He knew he was dirty too. The delivery had taken a lot longer than his body could wait to relieve. Despite the stench, he was calm. Whatever happened with him from now on couldn’t be worse than the facility. He was clinging to that blurry future as if his life depended on it.

Because it did.

Finally, he felt movement. They were getting him out of what he supposed was a truck. Without much care, he was put down and rolled somewhere bumping his head against the edges of the box before the movement ceased.

He had arrived at his new owner´s house.

He had been told he had been a difficult sale for the company a few times. He had been retrained mid-process. So, technically speaking, even if he was brand new, he was no better than a refurbished.

“Rejoice, Mop Head!” His handlers jumped on the ground he had puked before from the “physical endurance” training they so much loved to do in between the additional training his new owner had requested, “We will miss our favorite trainee,” the handler said with fake pity as he fisted on his hair to see his face “But will you miss us, Trainee?”

No way in hell, he wished to say, but he would never admit that. He had lost any privilege to do so.

He had no name, nor memories.

He was 778900, an obedient albino pet.

He heard some rustling and then some more. Then a dry thud from opening the box. He resisted the urge to curl tighter into himself when he heard a gasp. When he felt how a finger tapped his shoulder, the drug´s effects made the finger feel like a needle pricking into his skin. He would need a firm slap to be pulled back to reality or a really long nap.

But instead of receiving a slap and still wearing the blindfold, he was helped outside the box and gently sat down on something fluffy and comfortable.

A bed..?

Right off the bat? He thought to himself feeling his hands shake. He knew this could happen but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“I’m…I’m taking it off,” a woman´s voice said.

He had expected the hands down not up, so his eyes blow wide in surprise before quickly shutting again. The light leaking through the blinds still made his eyes sting after hours in the darkness.

A woman with tanned skin and a lunar over her nose stared at him holding a bottle of water. He was staring at the bottle when she ripped off the quick starter book taped to his chest in one swipe.

He looked at her little flinching and could´ve sworn he heard her whisper “sorry” before she pulled her eyes to the book. Regardless, the boy stayed still as she opened the book on the first page and then simply left the pages flipping on her fingers. It was mere seconds before she went “got it”.

Ripping off the book had pulled him back to his senses, but not enough as the woman wanted, he assumed, as she didn´t wait to slap him back to awareness. Exactly like the manual told her to.

His body jerked forward and after a bit of gritting, he straightens back. Then, she put the water bottle in his mouth. It was capped so he could hold it himself and drink as he pleased without choking. He is overjoyed to have water coat his parched throat.

Suddenly she reached out to take away the bottle “you will get sick if you keep going” she says with a little smile.

The boy watched her put it down on the floor and then look back at him. “They were a little bit rough with you there, weren´t they? Are you ok? Nothing hurts?” She asks him softly, not intending to touch him.

The box boy shook his head, which made her smile, “Ah, that´s a relief!”

Hopeful he wouldn’t be punished or thrown back into the bed, gracefully, the boy slips down to his knees on the floor.

“Thank you, mistress,” he says, making the woman recoil.

“P-Please, put your head up”

He was quick to obey.

“I will proceed to present myself” he states, forcing himself to ignore the soreness of his limbs “This pet´s number is 778900 and I´m Mistress…Z-Zarai Montenegro´s new Platonic companion,” he says, making the woman smile at his pronunciation of her name. “Are you my Mistress?”

“That would be me, yes, Sarahi,” she sits back on the chair with an amused if just slightly stiff look on her face at the way the boy flushes in shame. "It´s alright, continue"

He rasped his throat and began.

“Hello, Mistress Sarahi. Thank you for choosing this pet as your new companion. PCS has provided it with the following training: reading, writing, domestic chores management, crate training, first aid, and infirmary basics to be of better assistance to you” the next part made him try to cover his stained boxers in shame “Would-Would you like to go over the positions, now?”

His mistress jerked back in her seat. “No, darling. I already memorized them. I´m sure you know them very well too”

“Memorized them..?” Already? The pet blinked at her, but ultimately shook the awe away. “Understood. This pet has been trained to assist you and is an active participant of its mistress´s desires”

The next part was one he wasn´t confident in at all. But he forced himself to say it anyways.

“A pet´s needs are little. A collar is not needed but is encouraged as a method to make the pet aware of its status and easier identification. PCS offers a variety of collars for different purposes such as...” he shut his mouth at the sudden burst of laughter.

“They even put ads into their scripts?” she beamed, before looking back at him “I do have a collar for you,” she says before turning to take a small box from the desk behind her.

The color drains from his face at the sight of a packaged shock collar and its remote. He had landed in a house where shock collars would be used. Whether for discipline or amusement was a question he dreaded the answer to. His heart stuttered at the same time he pulled his hands into fists, watching her put it away and take out a simple white leather collar without a tag.

Without needing to be ordered, he lifted his head, giving her free way to his neck. At first, she buckled it a bit tight, but after he let out an almost mute whimper, she loosened it up.

He kept his neck stretched, waiting for a padlock to appear, but when it didn´t, he finally relaxed. Unconvinced his eyes didn´t deceive him and he was not wearing the shock collar instead, he passes a hand over the smooth leather.

“…Thank you for granting this pet the honor of a collar” he whispers, eyeing the box with the other collar before straightening back up.

He would admit the next part formed a knot on his stomach. He was still debating if he should skip it when Sarahi tilted her head.

“Is there more?” she asked innocently. He strayed his eyes and rasped his throat.

“Yes…A-A pet´s needs are little. A place to sleep and one meal a day are more than enough to keep this pet working…” he explains, feeling a punch in the gut when her face pulled into a frown. He had asked too much. He always knew that part wouldn´t be good to mention to the owners, but he remembered the zap of the collar back at the facility when he skipped over it. And…and she had given him water before he even started. So he thought… “B-But, it´s not necessary to feed it every day! This pet promises it will earn all which is given!”

Her frown got tighter, visibly displeased, but before he could say anything she lifted her hand.

“Alright, you can stop 778900” he smacked his lips closed before he quickly lowered his head in submission. “Can you stand up, please?” As ordered, the boy lifted himself, the movement making his head spin thanks to the drugs. He tries closing his eyes for a moment before he dares look up at his owner again. An inquisitive look sat on her face while covering her mouth with one hand. Following the trajectory of her eyes, he tries to cover the scars between his legs, visible due to his boxer’s length.

A furious blush already sneaks up his neck, when he takes in a foul smell and realizes, shamefully, that it comes from him. He pulled on his boxers, hoping to cover the smell with his hand alone.

“No wonder you´re so thin, then…” he heard her mumble before taking a deep breath and crossing her arms over her chest. For a moment, he goes stiff. Thinking maybe she´s gotten the wrong idea about him: that he’s a disobedient pet in need of harsher discipline, he can´t help but feel irritation. However, he knows better than to try to change her mind with words alone.

With a long sigh, she says “Are you finished?”

It takes him by surprise, but he rushes to answer his Mistress “Y-Yes, mistress Sarahi” he said, kneeling in front of her, fighting the resurge of nausea on his way down, “This pet is ready to start service once it´s given its duties”

She looked at him with so much pity, there was another sudden spike of anger bubbling up in the pet´s stomach. By now, he has learned to push down the feeling and submit. Or at least, he has perfected the art of looking passive when boiling in anger.

“…you don´t have a name,” she said, simply.

He didn´t anymore. A short smile crawled up his lips.

“This pet has been trained to respond to its serial number,” he says, moving his hand up to show her the numbers tattooed on his wrist.

“778900″ she says before he can show her. “You even have it tattooed…” he can even taste the sorrow in her voice. He lowers his wrist.

“This pet has been trained to respond to it as it would a name, so it´s not necessary to name it,” he says, rubbing gentle circles over his tattooed wrist.

He had landed with an owner who would use shock collars, so he honestly wouldn´t have been surprised if she called him by his number too. It was only natural to treat a pet that way.

“Calling you 778900 all the time isn´t very practical, nor do I want to do that,” she says, making the pet´s eyes blow wide as he stares at her. “How did they call you back there?”

He looked away while licking his lips.

“I-It’s not allowed to talk about its time at the facility with my owner, Mistress,” he says, a hot blush spreading through his cheeks and down his neck “This pet is very sorry”

“No, no. It´s fine” she put her hands up before sighing. When she suddenly puts a hand over his head and softly brushes his hair, the pet can´t help itself and flinches away.

He´s so shocked about receiving gentle treatment after denying her an answer that he shakes under her.

“Sorry, it was too soon for that?” she asks, taking her hand away. She doesn´t wait for him to answer and rasps her throat before looking down at him between her knees. “From now on, your name will be Albus. Albus Serra”

“Albus…?” he repeats, before a pang of white pain attacks behind his eyes. He manages to swallow the whimper wanting to escape his lips as he continues “U-Understood. This pet´s name will be…Albus…Serra” he says, a bitterness coating his tongue as he finishes talking.

Sarahi gently grabs his chin and forces him to look at her. There´s…searching in her eyes. A worry and a question before she goes back to that poker face she had while listening to the speech.

“This pet is ready to start service. Would you like to give it its duties now?” he says looking directly at his new owner´s eyes. She lets him go and the boy straightens his back, readying himself to receive his first order.

She reflects on something while looking at the boy.

“Giving a new pet clear rules makes it easier for the pet to understand what is expected of it and what measures will be taken if they´re unable to meet them”, she remembers reading a paragraph like that in the manual.

Taking a deep breath, her face twists in disgust at the smell of piss.

Right. She chastises herself as she subtly covers her nose.

“Before we move to that, can you please, take a bath?”

The boy´s cheeks flush red as he nods. “I-It is very sorry, mistress”

“It´s alright, follow me,” She says, readying herself to lift herself before heavily making her way to the bathroom. Suddenly, she hears a tapping sound behind her so when she turns and finds Albus crawling behind her, the pet freezes on the spot. “What are you doing?” she says incredulously.

The pet shrinks into himself, before pulling back into a sitting position. “I- This pet hasn’t been allowed to stand up yet, Mistress…” she looks at him like she just grew another head and he flinches away when she sighs. His fingers itch to start pulling knots but he forces himself to stay put.

He never expects her to kneel before him. Visibly in pain from doing so, he jumps before she grabs his shoulders.

“There are two things I want you to know right now. One, you will not crawl on all fours in this house or outside. Ever” the pet blinks at her. Outside? “And two, you are my pet…” those words seem to shock her more than “outside” did to him, but she´s quick to revert into that dominant look of hers “But I want you to refer to yourself with “I”, alright? Not “it”, not “this pet”. Can you do that for me, Albus?”

An order expressed so gently unsettles him, but he´s obligated to say “Yes, Mistress” regardless of what he thinks about it.

Another distasteful expression crosses her face and Albus believes he has done it when she sighs again.

“Well, three things. Don´t call me mistress. Call me by my name”

Albus' heart churns in his chest “I-It would be wrong for a pet to call its owner by their name. It would be as if we were…equals. I-I couldn´t possibly…” he trails off before he shivers. Eyes lost somewhere in a trance.

She taps his shoulder and the pet flinches back to reality.

“I-I´m sorry to disobey, but I-I can´t-“

”Ok, I get it,” she says squeezing his shoulder lightly, before giving him a warm smile “Try with “ma´am”

The boy stays quiet for a second, tasting the words in his mouth before saying them out loud.

“Yes…Ma´am”

“Much better” she smiles at him, but he doesn’t smile back. She doesn´t take any offense to it. It will take time, she guessed. For both of them to get used to this.

She then tried to stand up and when she willed herself to stand, the boy had already extended his hand for her to lean on. Using him as support, she stood up without much but a hiss at the knot on her lower back. But to her surprise, the boy stood up with her and quickly brought the chair.

“It´s ok. I can walk a bit more today” she says, taking a few steps towards the bathroom before the boy trots up to support her. This time, she accepts the help and both walk inside the bathroom. While she explains the water handles to him he suddenly looks up at her with a strange light in his eyes.

“Is it ok if I use the hot water?” he asked so utterly impressed, his voice came out barely above a whisper. She nodded and a glow appeared on the boy´s eyes before it quickly dried.

He didn´t expect such a luxury to be given so freely. Surely, it was just a one-time thing. So after she exited the bathroom, Albus took a moment to soak in the shower. Enjoying to the maximum the small mercy he was granted.

After the bath, the drug´s effects had only gotten worse. Maybe his initial fear of his new owner´s antics had given him the adrenaline necessary to spew the speech, but now, he was fighting to keep his eyes open as he stepped out of the bathroom and saw the note over a few clothes laying over the bed.

He still had to squint and ignore the throbbing pain behind his eyes when he read, but it was manageable after weeks of training.

“These are yours, please wear them and dump the boxers in the trash,” the note said.

His? He took the shirt and extended it in front of him. It was a few sizes too big for him, but there was still a ticket hanging from it… A different type of warmth ran through him as he noticed the brand new boxers set next to the clothes. He didn´t know what year it was, but it had been a long, long time since he had two layers of clothes covering his legs. Even if the shorts were a little too short to fully hide the scars between his legs, an immense feeling of gratefulness ran through him as he felt the soft fabric between his fingers.

Later, he was kneeling at the feet of the bed, waiting for his owner to come back.

His eyes wandered to the desk, then. Hoping to find the shock collar over it, but finding it gone. Somehow, that only pulled the knot in his guts tighter. The soft leather around his neck was an earned mercy. A privilege he could lose at any time. If he made a mistake, it would be swapped, and be shocked for sure.

As the minutes passed, he started pulling knots with his fingers. He caught himself doing it and quickly put them away to get into position two just when she arrived.

The woman opened the door, now dressed in comfortable pants, and almost slammed it closed when she saw him “Oh god no. Relax and sit normally, please” she ordered him. He brushed away his arms to his sides as he had been trained to. Staring at the ground as she sat on the desk chair in front of him. He expected anything from his mistake but simply stared at him for a while in silence.

His white hair wasn´t longer than his chin, curled in a cowlick to his face. His ribs and cheekbones stood out more than his skin and his eyes were almost closing, fighting to remain open. The red irises trembled slightly, which made her wonder if he could see her.

She hadn’t missed the burn and cut scars between his legs either. They looked old, but she couldn´t help but worry about them when she realized the pattern was tally marks. She wasn´t sure if she could ask about that either.

She was wondering how would that theme could even come up when she saw his head lull to a side and quickly try to stiff himself back up.

“Let´s get over this and tomorrow I´ll explain it better to you” she sighed, making the boy flinch with terror. “It´s late. You can rest now” the boy visibly relaxed before moving forward, almost crawling, before he sat back on his butt.

"Where should this... Where should I sleep, ma´am?" the pet asked, shrinking into his shoulders when she simply continued to stare at him in silence.

"Oh," she said “Ok, uh. How do I even…?” she started getting close to him, but stopped as he flinched when her hand got too close. She carefully pulled her hand back, “This is not my room. It´s yours”

“My…room?” he repeated, passing his eyes around the place. He took a deep breath before he lowered his head. “Understood, ma´am,” he said, barely able to conceal the sudden spike of sorrow.

He forced himself to get happy that it was a room bigger than the one at the facility. Even if it was to remain locked until he was needed.

“I wake up early, so please be sure to rest well tonight,” she told him as he padded the bed again. Had beds always been that soft? He quickly turned to bow at her as she made her way to the door.

“Of course. Goodnight, ma´am” he said in a robotic tone. Expecting the lock to click after the door closed.

He waited and waited, but it never did. He heard a thump on the door before he heard a burst of muffled laughter followed by his owner´s voice.

“No, Momo. Don´t bother him right now” and then even quieter “He has a long day ahead”

After that, he heard her walk away.

What did she mean by that was beyond him. A slight dread sat on his mind as memories of the facility rushed back into his head when those words were uttered by his primary handler. It would almost always mean it would be painful or his endurance would be tested.

He shrugged it off as best as he could. He could only hope that the next day wouldn´t be the day he earned using the shock collar.

A shiver ran through him before he shook his head.

The pet turned to the bed then. It was a twin mattress with a hand-knitted blanket over it, and by the smell, new sheets. After a moment of hesitation, he turned the lights off and climbed into it.

Quickly, he began to warm up and his frozen sore legs finally could rest. He laid his head over one of the pillows, incredulous that there were three of them. At its softness, Albus found tears in his eyes.

It had been less than 24 hours since the only thing he had to sleep on was the cold ground of a room with obscenely bright white light. It never mattered if it was sleeping time, the lights would never be turned off. Nor he would be given more than his arms or his clothes to use as protection and pillows.

A bed without earning it didn´t feel real to him. The very real possibility that she could take away that luxury as easy as she gave it, sent a shiver down his spine. Fisting on his shirt, right over where his heart should be, he curled into himself.

It would be alright. Whatever happened, it couldn´t be worse than back there, right? He would be useful and obedient, so he would get to sleep in the bed and bathe with warm water and not be shocked at the smallest mistake for more than one night.

It would be alright.

He repeated that phrase over and over until he lost consciousness.

There was no way to continue if he didn´t tell himself that lie.

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willowworkswithwords · 3 years

Note

Would love some hurt Obi-Wan and Anakin angst with this prompt. “you have to stay awake. come on, give my hand a squeeze.”

Thank you for the prompt @jediash!! I'd love to hear what you think of this!

Prompts open! This one is from the Post-Trauma Sentence Starters. My ask box is open to your own ideas always! I have also posted fever prompts and softer whump prompts!

“You have to stay awake,” Anakin said. “Obi-Wan, c’mon. Give, give m-my hand a squeeze, oka-okay?”

Obi-Wan simply stared at him, glassy eyes seeing someone who was no longer there. His cheeks were crimson but Anakin had stopped feeling uncomfortable from the heat emanating from his master.

“M’st Qui-G’n? M-master, please help us”

His voice had been rubbed raw with his throat, as raw as the whip wounds across his back and shoulders. With each inhale Obi-Wan’s ribs rose shakily, lungs rattling, and every exhale wheezed like the speeder Anakin had built back on Tatooine, shoddy and practically useless.

“Master, it’s just me, it’s Anakin.”

Obi-Wan jerked at Anakin’s name.

“The boy, the boy! I have, I have to train the boy.”

“You found me, master, you found me,” Anakin said, caressing Obi-Wan’s face over and over. Kept his master’s ridiculous hair out of his eyes. Back to the wall, cradling the man that had become his brother as much as his father, Anakin could only pray that rescue was on its way.

The hours melded together, bleeding into one. What Anakin thought was every few minutes, he asked Obi-Wan to squeeze his hand, and every now and again, Obi-Wan would squeeze without further prompting. More times, though, Anakin had to shake him or press his ear to Obi-Wan’s chest to make sure he was still breathing.

He was sure they were both pleading, with each other or with ghosts long gone, but as with time, reality had begun to tilt, and Anakin’s own demons had stepped up to bat, drowning out his senses, smothering his conscious connection to the Force.

He let himself drift only because he knew that, even drifting far away, he’d never allow himself to let Obi-Wan die.

Not him, not his brother.

Never Obi-Wan.

He wasn’t surprised in the least when he woke up in medbay, Ahsoka on one side of the bed, Rex and Cody on the other, Obi-Wan lying next to him in the double bed they used for survivors who refused to be separated from each other.

Squeezing the hand that brushed the back of his where it lay, Anakin slipped back into sleep.

#my fic #Willow talks #jediash #prompt response #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #whump #hurt/comfort #Star Wars

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whumpasaurus101 · 3 years

Text

FINALLY WHAT PEEPS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!! Announcement!!! @jordanstrophe and I are going to collab for a few pieces!!! Here is the first piece of our collab!

Gabriel and Walter belong to @jordanstrophe

my masterlist / jordan's masterlist!

Pheonix eyed the suit that laid, spread out over his bed. He looked back to Noah, “I- I thought I wasn't going to the casino tonight?” Noah chuckled, “Nah, don't worry, you're not going to the casino.” Pheonix’s eyebrows furrowed, “But where-”

“-Oh Jesus, just get fucking changed, we don't have all night.” Pheonix nodded and Noah turned around, back facing Pheonix. He slipped into his usual dressy pant bottoms and button-up polo shirt.

Just as Pheonix ruffled his hair into the position Mateo liked it. Noah checked his watch and clicked his tongue, “Alright, let's get you upstairs, boss will be waiting.” Pheonix nodded silently, fiddling with his shaking hands.

Mateo’s eyes lit up as he saw his lucky charm, “Ah, mi amor! Look at you!” Pheonix looked down at the carpet. “Oh, come here, sit on my lap for a second!” When Pheonix didn't move, Noah shoved him forward. Pheonix stumbled into Mateo’s arms. Mateo chuckled and squeezed Pheonix, propping him properly onto his lap.

“Now, today I’m bringing you out for our one week anniversary! But first I need to set some ground rules. First of all, you will only speak when I say that you can, fail to do so, let's just say, Aurora and I will have our fun with you.” Phoenix gulped and Mateo ran his possessive hand through Pheonix’s hair.

“That punishment goes with all of the rules. I will have an earpiece so if I leave you alone, I get to hear every single word you say. If you are well behaved, you get a day off from the casino, understood?”

Pheonix nodded quickly, “Yes sir.” Mateo smiled, “Good. Now, Noah, you will drive us over there and I’ll bring you back something, got it?” Noah nodded and went to fetch his coat. Pheonix dared a look over to Martín who was scowling at him from the corner of the room.

Sammy was in the other room playing with the playstation with some other gang members that Pheonix did not know the names of. Mateo snapped his fingers in front Pheonix, “Amor, you ready to go?” Pheonix nodded, “Y-yeah, but where are we going.” Mateo grinned, “Now that, that is a surprise mi pájaro.” Pheonix gulped, “P-please-”

“-Ah, ah, ah, I wanted to have a fun night with you, so, you can either go and have some fun or I’ll see how many whip lashings it would take to make you scream. Which one would you prefer?” Phoenix cleared his throat, “The um, the first one.”

Mateo smiled, “That's what I thought.”

Noah was ordered to pull the car over about ten minutes away from wherever they were going. Pheonix was in the back, hands tied with zip ties. Mateo opened the passenger seat and got out, doing his usual handshake with Noah, “Volveremos en unas horas.” Noah nodded and winked, “Disfrútala.”

Mateo hauled Pheonix out of the backseat. Mateo was dressed smartly in a proper tux and his dark grey hair was spiked up with just the right ratio of jell to not make it look messy.

“Ah, there you are mi amor!” He took out his pocket knife and cut the zip ties, freeing Pheonix’s bound arm. Pheonix hissed as rubbed his aching wrists.

Mateo slid a possessive arm around Pheonix, not allowing him any space, “come one, we’ll be late!” Late? Where the hell were they going???

They walked along a river that stretched through the busy city. Pheonix was shocked that he was allowed to be here but then the threats came back to him. Pheonix looked at the lake, the ducks quaking happily. The seagulls flapped their wings above the trees and the swans glided elegantly along the water.

Mateo chuckled as he watched Pheonix’s eyes studied the scene. It had been a while since he had been outside Pheonix almost felt as if he could cry. No, not in front of that man beside him. That man whose smile wouldn't twitch after killing a man.

They stopped in front of a bright lighted restaurant, Pheonix looked over at Mateo. “Happy one-week anniversary mi amor!” Pheonix gulped, “Do I get t-to eat?” Mateo chuckled, “Of course, now come on, I have a good reputation here, let's not ruin that!”

Mateo guided Pheonix inside. It was loud as people chatted and laughed. There was some soft piano music playing. Pheonix closed his eyes, focusing on the soft notes as Mateo told the reservation name. The waitress smiled, “Perfect! Welcome back Mateo, we have to boot booked just for you!”

Mateo returned the smile and guided Pheonix, following the waitress, making Pheonix flinch as he was interrupted from his nirvana. They sat at the booth, only meters away from the piano. Pheonix studied the pianist. His black curly hair brushed against his head as he played the piano passionately.

Pheonix was interrupted again by Mateo snapping his fingers again. “Hey, pájaro, do I have competition?” Pheonix blinked a few times, “Oh, um no, sorry.” Mateo smiled, “No worries, I know I’m better than him anyway.” Pheonix looked at the oak table.

“You like the music?” Pheonix nodded quickly, eyes glued on the table. “Ah, good, maybe we can say hello to them after our dinner, hm?” Pheonix looked over again at the pianist, there was a man who sat right behind the pianist, only centimetres away. Before he got lost in his thoughts again, the waitress came over.

“Hiya! What can I get for ya?” Pheonix’s head snapped up to Matteo who smiled, “Hi…. Stephanie, for the starters I’ll have the caviar blinis and Pheonix here will have… hmm, actually, we can share the starters, wouldn't want to waste our hunger on starters when there are two more courses! Hm?” Pheonix gulped and nodded.

“For mains, we will both have a steak, medium rare, and dessert, hmm the raspberry ripple cheesecake please!” Stephanie scribbled the order down quickly in her notepad and smiled, “Perfect! Can I get any drinks to start?”

Mateo looked up at Pheonix, realising he didn't know Pheonix’s age, “Just two waters, thank you.” The waitress left and Mateo rested his foot gently over Pheonix’s, Pheonix looked up. “You're doing good mi amor!” Pheonix forced a smile, “Thanks, um, thank you for bringing me here.”

“And you're being grateful! Oh my, I was going to save this for later, but -ah heck, here you go.” Mateo produced a neatly wrapped parcel with black wrapping paper. Pheonix eyed it suspiciously and looked at Mateo, encouraging him to open it.

Pheonix sighed and slowly unwrapped the small gift. There was a box which he slowly opened, revealing a ring. His heart stopped and his face blanched. Mateo chuckled, “Oh, don't you worry, I'm not asking you to marry me.. Yet.” Pheonix gulped and took out the ring. There was a black snake on it. “Here, let me put it on for you.” Mateo took the ring and Pheonix’s hand. He gently put the ring on Pheonix’s thumb, “Now look at that, don't you look beautiful!”

The night went on and the music continued, different classical songs were played. Most of them Pheonix never heard before. At some point after dessert, Mateo went to the bathroom, leaving Pheonix alone in the booth. He pulled at his ear nervously and fidgeted with his ring. Of course, that bastard gave him a ring with a fucking snake on it.

Before the two of them left, Mateo guided Pheonix over towards the pianist and the other man. “Walter! It's a pleasure to finally meet you!” Pheonix looked up at Mateo, confused. Had he met that man before?

“So this must be Gabriel?” Walter put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and he immediately stopped playing, “S-sorry,” He blushed. Mateo smiled, “No worries, my boy Pheonix has a special eye for you.” Pheonix blushed and looked at the ground as he felt Gabriel’s eye on him. Walter chuckled, “Well, I can't say the same, I think Gabriel prefers the other gender, but I’d say he likes the attention.”

Mateo smiled, “Listen, while you're out here in the city, can I offer you a drink?”

---

My tagist:

@jordanstrophe XD @milk-carton-offical @as-a-matter-of-whump@yesthisiswhump @kixngiggles

Jordan's Taglist:

@alien-octopus @lave-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry

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basically-i-write-shit · 3 years

Note

Hey, i love your writing! Especially the yama aus and yama centric ones. I often see, in fics, that yama is often the one that pampers tsukki with love and affection and i wonder if we can just reverse uno card on that and make tsukki the one that is taking care of yama when he has a bad day and his anxiety/depression is sky rocketing. i just love some whump and yama being taken care of <3 thank you anyway. Hope you are doing well!

jfgfjdjsgh thank u <3 Yamaguchi is always always misrepresented, in my opinion. People need to stop portraying him as weak or whiny.

The first day back to practice after the training camp is...surprisingly uneventful.

Kei had, after all, been able to go to school still and saw everyone at least briefly. Still, after a week he’d expected the tone of practice to be different, but it’s not. More specifically, he’d expected Tadashi to act different- he was the only first year not in attendance of either training camps, after all. They’d avoided the topic pretty clearly after the initial bomb of Hinata crashing the camp, but in their text messages Kei could tell Yamaguchi was a bit more short than usual. Not really noticeable to anyone but Kei.

Even still, Tadashi keeps a smile on his face at practice except when he thinks no one is looking. Except Kei is looking, and looking a lot, because he knows Tadashi. He knows how Tadashi thinks, and sees the increase in failed serves at practice, and knows a shutdown should be coming any moment now-

But it doesn’t.

Instead, everything is calm and quiet. Kei takes a bit longer to change, since everyone wants to know more about camp, but when he eventually wrestles his way out of the club room and down the stairs, he sees Yamaguchi bouncing his leg nervously as he waits for Kei. When he sees his friend, the nervous habit freezes and he stands.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

The walk home is, as is most nights, filled with talk about their day. Tadashi carries the conversation, as always, but something about the way he speaks feels...forced. Tadashi is avoiding the topic of volleyball altogether, despite the fact that it’s usually at least a part of the conversation.

“Ah, this is my turn. I’m heading to Shimada’s place, so-”

“Why don’t you come to my place tonight? We haven’t seen each much of each other in the last week.”

“I don’t know, Tsukki, you saw me at practice tonight...I really need to work on them.”

“And working too much can do more harm than good, Yamaguchi. Come on.”

“I-” Tadashi starts, but Kei takes him by the wrist and begins pulling him down the road towards his house. Tadashi tries to protest more, but Kei decides to tune him out, continuing to walk with his hand around Tadashi’s wrist. He tries not to think too hard about how he’s basically holding hands with his friend.

“We’re home!”

“S- Sorry for the intrusion...”

Kei’s mother greets them at the door, leaning against the frame as they take off their shoes in the entryway. “Kei, Tadashi, welcome home! Tadashi, I haven’t seen you all week, how are you doing?”

“I’m good, auntie, thank you. Tsukki just got home late because of training camp, so I figured I’d let him rest instead of coming to study with him.”

“Yet you stayed on video chat all night anyway,” Akiteru snorts as he passes the door, and Kei’s eye twitches.

“Aki-nii, when does your college’s break end again?”

“Not until after I get to see my little brother and his friends play at nationals, why do you ask?”

“Can you leave anyway?” Kei deadpans, pouting when his mother tsks and gently hits his arm.

“Be nice, Kei. I’ve got dinner on the stove, boys, so you can go study while it cooks and I’ll call you down, alright?”

“Alright...”

“Thank you, auntie.”

“Oh, Tadashi, any time dear.”

“Come on, Yamaguchi.” Kei, once again, grabs Tadashi by the wrist now that their shoes are off and leads him down the hall as if Tadashi hasn’t been to his house a million times. He doesn’t pull away until they’re at his door; he pushes it open, knowing Tadashi will turn the light on as they enter, and flops right onto his bed. His bag falls to the floor next to it with the dull thud of unfinished homework assignments, but he ignores them in favor of rolling over so he’s on the inner half of the definitely-too-small-for-two-people twin bed, patting the empty space next to him boredly. “C’mere.”

Tadashi, used to sitting on the same bed as Kei but unused to him being so forward about it, cocks his head to the side. “Huh?”

“Come lay down. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” Tadashi’s eyes unfocus as he tries to process what Kei said, and Kei huffs, looking away. Too cute. “If I have to drag you around all week because you’re too tired from practicing too hard, I’m never sharing my notes with you again. Get over here already.”

“You...invited me all the way over here to sleep, Tsukki? Because you think I’m overworking myself?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kei grumbles. “You’re free to do whatever you want, once you lay down, but yes. You act like I can’t tell your shoulders are as stiff as the King’s when he gets that stick up his ass. You’re stressed.”

Tadashi snorts as he slides onto the bed next to Kei, their elbows bumping together as the sides of their thighs press firmly, shyly, together; it’s a position they’re used to by now, but it still sets Kei’s heart aflutter. “You’re too mean to them, y’know Tsukki. Half of your insults they’re too dumb to understand- you need to find someone to match your wit.”

“That’s what you’re for, but you’re avoiding the subject Yamaguchi.”

“Am not, you just said I seemed stressed and I didn’t think it was worth arguing when you’re right.” Tadashi says.

“Well, you haven’t said why.” Kei turns and looks at Tadashi seriously, his eyebrows raised. “Is it because of training camp? You have nothing to worry about, you know. It’s not like we can get suddenly a hundred times better in a week, and I’m sure you were practicing hard at Karasuno.”

Tadashi turns his head away from Kei, crossing his arms. “So what if it is? I know that, Tsukki, and even if I’m jealous I get why I wasn’t chosen to go so it’s not that. I just- Tsukki, the second years are getting better as well, and I don’t think I’m going to ever get a place as a starter, let alone a pinch server with Kinoshita-san’s serves getting as good as they are, and- and-”

When he looks back to Kei, he has tears pooling in his eyes and his shoulders are shaking with a held-back sob.

“I know it’s stupid, but I- I want to play with you again, Tsukki. But everyone is moving forward, and I feel like I’m stuck. Because coach wants us all working on serves, and I know I need to work on mine, but I also need to work on receives, and how am I supposed to get good at those when I’m not even good at the one thing that’s gotten me on the court so far? I’m not pitying myself, don’t you dare think I am, I’m pissed. I work so hard, and I’m going to be passed over again when the third years graduate, and I know it’s fair but that won’t stop the fact that I’m upset over it. I’ve done everything, and nothing’s wor-”

“Yamaguchi, shut up.”

Kei had taken in the rant with wide eyes, surprised at how much Tadashi had boiled over. He’d expected his friend to be upset, but the anger is something new. He doesn’t really know how to process everything, but he knows his friend is upset and this he can at least fix.

“You’re doing the best you can, and that’s all that matters. Wasn’t it you talking to me about pride? I’m glad you’re not letting this get you down, but pushing yourself too hard isn’t going to help you much. What if you hurt your arm and can’t practice serves? Then what? Then you’re really screwed.”

Tadashi, brows pinched together, bites his lip. “Tsukki, I-”

“If you want, I’ll help you practice receiving some nights. But only if you don’t overwork yourself, and I’ll be checking in to make sure you aren’t.” Kei says. Tadashi stares at him, clearly surprised. “Deal?”

“I- Yes, definitely, Tsukki. What about spikes?”

“Don’t push it.”

Tadashi laughs brightly, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he melts into the mattress. “Worth a shot, huh? And, uh- thanks, Tsukki. I think I needed the pep talk more than I thought I did...”

“Any time, Yamaguchi.” Kei pulls out his phone now that the heart-to-heart is over and scrolls through it, turning his attention away from the way his heart hammers at the sound of Tadashi’s laugh.

Yamaguchi leans his head on his shoulder to see what he’s doing despite Kei’s protests and, shortly after, begins to doze off despite his original protests.

#haikyuu!!#tsukkiyama #yamaguchi tadashi #kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tadashi yamaguchi #yamatsukki #tsukkiyama fanfic

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

For the fic starter thingy- "I don't think he has a pulse..."

CW: Mild vampirism, creepy whumpers having a lovely time, Dehumanization, pet whump

"Regyn?"

"Hm?" Lord Regyn glanced toward the Lady Layla, washing the blood from his hands and arms in the washbasin next to his bed. He always enjoyed the swirl of pearly red blood through the water, the softest shimmer in it, tinting opalescent pink.

"We might have killed your pet." Layla knelt naked by the fireplace, next to the curled-up body of the half-fae novelty he'd been keeping for months. She pressed her fingers into the thing's neck, just under the jaw. "I don't think the darling has a pulse."

"Well, damn." Reg sighed, pulling on a thin dressing-down, tying it at the waist and wandering over to look. "We did get a little ahead of ourselves tonight, didn't we? And I'm not likely to find another."

Layla dragged her fingers down the things back, marked with deep red welts, pressing to push up new wells of blood. The creature's wings lay along the ground, mussed up, the feathers all out of place.

She looked up at Reg and licked the faintly pearl red blood off her fingertips, one by one.

Reg caught his breath. "By the gods, you are a sight," He murmured. "But what will I paint you with, now, Layla? If I've no more magic blood?"

Layla plucked a long feather, ran it's soft ends along her jaw, down her neck. She never looked away from Reg. "I've heard they sell a lovely chocolate sauce made just for the purpose," She said, "if you absolutely must lick something off me."

Lord Regyn laughed, bright and musical.

At Layla's feet, the fae thing stirred, whimpers as it became aware of its wounds. Its face, so unsettlingly human but for those fae eyes, twisted in pain. "M-my lord... Is it done?"

The creature's voice was a whisper. It chirped plaintively after the question, as if begging for mercy in two voices, from two worlds.

That brought a heat, too, but it was not the same.

This was the feel of power.

"Oh, my," Lady Layla said, looking down in surprise. "Perhaps I don't know how to take a pulse."

#killan is babey and saddest boy #blood tw #referenced whipping tw #whump #fae whump #fae whumpee #sort of #nonhuman whumpee #sadistic whumper #creepy whumper #multiple whumper #captivity #pet whump #dehumanization tw #gross flirting

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snezfics-n-shit · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 31: Halloween

Fandom: Ace Attorney

Characters: [2001 Half] Gregory Edgeworth, Raymond Shields / [2021 Half] Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth, Trucy Wright

Notes: Two Halloweens, Two Defense Attorneys, Two Decades Apart. Last day so we’re going to town. Two whumps for the price of one! In the first half, you’ll find some Gregory content. For the second, you’ll see everyone’s favorite disbarred hobo dad. It really is Real DILF Hours this fine Halloween.

--October 31, 2001--

“Thank you again, Mrs. Wright. You kids have fun!” Gregory watched the group of trick-or-treaters go on their way. It felt almost like a dream to know his son was in that group, trick-or-treating with real friends. For past Halloweens, Gregory and Miles would stay in and read something together until deciding to watch It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown together before usually falling asleep on the couch. While he was more than proud of his son making friends, Gregory felt a little sad when his son told him he would be out.

It was only when Gregory woke up the morning before with a persistent tickle in his throat that he was actually grateful to be the only one at home for the holiday, for at least a few hours. For a moment, he assumed it was simply the doing of Fall allergies, and perhaps some of it was, but the steadily rising feeling of malaise started to tip him off. By the time he was seeing his son off with his group of friends, he was more than ready to turn in for the night at 6:30PM.

Gregory closed the door slowly so he could triple check that the group was traveling safely. Despite having kept a close eye out on his surroundings, he failed to notice a familiar face approaching his home. He thought he could easily resign himself to some cold medicine and an early night until he heard the turning of a doorknob.

“Miles? Is that you?” He called as far as his hoarse voice could reach.

“No, it’s me, Mr. Edgeworth!” Ray twirled a keychain around and bit into a chocolate bar. “You gave me your spare key, remember? When I helped you bring in that big bag of dog food? Or was it when you had shingles? I forget.”

“Neither.” Gregory shook his head. “I gave you the spare key that time you watched Miles when I had that date.”

“O-Oh, right. How did that go, by the way?”

“Not great. The movie was awful and she demanded a refund after it was over. I don’t think I’ll be going out with anyone on the PTA again.” Gregory coughed a few times in his elbow before noticing what Ray was eating. “Where did you get that?”

“From your candy bowl.”

“Did you take just one like the sign said?”

Ray shrugged as he pulled about four more chocolate bars from his coat pockets.

“You should really be handing out the candy to prevent this kind of miscommunication.”

“I’m coming down with a cold, so I think I’ll pass.” Gregory took Ray’s coat to hang on the coat rack, if only to prevent more candy smuggling. “I’m surprised you’re not trick-or-treating.”

“I wanted to spend time with you, Mr. Edgeworth. You said you’ll be staying inside alone this year.” Ray helped himself to the living room couch, pleased to greet the pomeranian lounging there. “Hey, Missile!” He made kissing faces at the pup. “I guess not too alone.”

“Don’t let him lick your face while you have chocolate all over.” Gregory called the dog over to him. “You can rinse your face in the bathroom, and could you bring me the cold medicine from the cabinet?”

“Of course, Mr. Edgeworth!”

“Thank you.” Gregory stole Ray’s spot on the couch and let Missile hop on his lap. Just sitting down was more rest than Gregory had let himself have all day. He looked up to watch Ray return from the bathroom, somehow having gotten his hands on a lollipop.

“How come you’re not using Coldkiller X?” Ray tossed the requested medicine into Gregory’s lap. “It’s been flying off the shelves since it came out; it’s a real hit.”

“I prefer my usual NyQuil. I’d rather sleep through my colds.”

“You do look like you could use some sleep, Mr. Edgeworth.” Ray wiggled the lollipop stick around in his mouth. “Also, I think it’s really cool you put candy all around your house for Halloween.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory furrowed his brow.

“These lollipops in your bathroom.” He pulled out the stick to reveal a purple teddy bear pop. “It kinda makes my mouth feel funny, though. I think I’m allergic to something in it.”

“Raymond, that’s--,” Gregory sighed and put his head in his hands, “medicated. It has an anesthetic in it.”

“Oh, huh.” Ray stared at the lollipop before offering it to Gregory. “Do you want it?”

“No, thank you.” Gregory found the offer to be both amusing and repulsive. “I think I’ll be fine just having some tea.” He ushered Missile to direct some affection towards Ray so he could stand up. “Do you want any?”

“Just water is fine.” Ray rubbed his tongue against his front teeth. “I don’t think anything else would taste good right now.”

“At least that means you won’t be stealing any more candy.” Gregory chuckled as he proceeded to start the stove under the kettle. “I also shouldn’t have to tell you that you shouldn’t be eating things from a medicine cabinet.”

“Got it. ‘Don’t eat candy from the medicine cabinet.’” Ray read aloud from his notepad before eating the page he just wrote on.

“I feel like I should be concerned that you needed to write that down.” To say nothing of Ray’s paper eating habit, which Gregory stopped questioning after six months into Ray working part-time at the firm. He wanted to say Ray had matured since he had hired him, but it was likely more familiarity with his antics than anything. “Do you want any ice in your water?” Gregory opened the refrigerator door and leaned forward, reaching for the pitcher of water.

“No, that’s fine.” Ray answered, not looking away from Missile, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “Who’s a good boy?”

“I’d like to think I am.” Gregory laughed before standing upright again. Having his head at any angle outside of a very specific range when he had a cold always gave him a head-rush. “AE’SSHHOOUH! Eh’KXNT...chooh” He stifled the second one so Ray wouldn’t say anything about trying to scare him. With it being Halloween, the potential for comments like that was abundant.

“Bless you, Mr. Edgeworth.” In truth, Ray was hardly paying enough attention to really say anything; he was too busy scratching behind Missile’s ears. “You’re such a cool dad, keeping this cutie.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘cool’ before, at least not sincerely.” Gregory tugged a tissue from the box on the kitchen counter and gently held it under his nose.

“R-Really? Not even about all your Star Wars stuff?”

“That stuff is exactly--,” Gregory used the tissue to muffle some coughs, “exactly what made me not cool. I only had one friend in high school, and that was Miles’s mother.” He always felt some pain in his chest bringing her up, but he was too caught up in the memory to stop himself. “She was homeschooled before she transferred, so she didn’t really care if I was ‘cool’ or not.” He dropped the tissue into the trash bin before he opened a cupboard and grabbed two plain blue mugs. Cold water in a mug wasn’t a faux pas, was it?

“Are you feverish enough to finally tell me about her?”

“This cold’s only just started, so no.” Gregory shut off the stove once he saw the steam leaving the kettle. As nice as it would be to have savored that, he didn’t want to keep Ray waiting for his water. “But I guess I can’t avoid talking about Marie forever.” He coated his own mug’s base with honey before topping it with a tea bag. He had no idea exactly what kind of tea it was; he only bought the types his son wrote on the grocery list in skillful handwriting absolutely not inherited from Gregory.

Naturally, when Gregory returned to the living room with both beverages, Ray had reclaimed the seat he had rightfully stolen. He set Ray’s drink on the coffee table in front of the sofa before finding himself a new seat next to him.

“So, what was she like?” Ray took a long sip of his water, hoping to wash out the anesthetic.

“Well, for starters, she was my best friend for over ten years.” Gregory moved the tea bag up and down by the string. “She transferred to my high school just after her parents separated. She moved with her dad all the way from the middle of nowhere, so we were both in the same ‘no friends’ boat.”

“Did you two realize the one you loved was right in front of you? Like in a movie?”

“Ah,” Gregory didn’t look up from his mug, “just one of us did. She didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“B-But you guys had a kid together! There had to be something there.” Ray’s jaw dropped when he saw Gregory shake his head.

“I only realized I loved her after we, uh,” Gregory coughed awkwardly, “you know. I told her and that just ruined everything we had. The last time I saw her before she died was the day she dropped off Miles.”

“Oh, huh.” Ray felt himself tearing up. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that much of a tearjerker, I promise. I have a son I couldn’t be more proud of. I wouldn’t trade him for the world, even if it meant having Marie in my life for a few extra years.”

“Wha?’ Ray wiped some tears from his eyes. “I’m not that sad. I just, uh, lost an eyelash. Let me find it so I can make a wish.” He grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table to pretend he was searching for that ‘eyelash.’

“Hey, it’s definitely not the time to waste those.” Gregory scolded in jest before taking his own tissue for actual use. “E’kXTT… chuh.” That particular stifle made his head pound.

“It’s Halloween, Mr. Edgeworth. It’s okay if you startle me.” Of course. Why did Gregory think he could get away so easily? “I don’t know how you can hold those in. It was pretty impressive when you did ten of those last month.”

“I wasd’t about to let you bake jokes for the rest of your shift.” Gregory blew his nose forcefully, displeased at the amount of time it took to really feel any benefit.

“To think I just called you cool.” Ray teased. “I still think you’re cool, though. You made your son’s costume, didn’t you? Signal Red?”

“Indeed I did.” Gregory nodded. He figured his drink had cooled enough to chase down the cold medicine Ray retrieved earlier. “I stayed up all night making it.” He cleared his throat and made a face in reaction to the unfavorable taste of the medicated liquid. “Two nights, actually.”

“No wonder you’re sick. You work too hard and never sleep.” So was that why Ray seemed immune to colds?

“Once this kicks in, I’ll be sleeping like the dead.” Gregory leaned back. “You can watch TV if you want. Take the remote or a VHS.”

“Woah, really?” Ray made himself at home in front of the VHS shelves with Missile following behind him. “You wanna help me pick out a movie, boy?”

“Just not any movies about a dog. Otherwise, he’ll bark at the screen.”

“Aw, that’s cute! Let’s watch Air Bud, then.”

Thank god for NyQuil.

-------------

--October 31, 2021--

Phoenix was woken up by the sound of footsteps on the entryway’s tile floor accompanied by the excited listing of various candies. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to take a look at the wall clock. 9:30PM. Miles and Trucy returned an hour late, but it sounded like they had a good time.

“Daddy! We got so much candy! Are you feeling better? Papa Miles said you should eat something healthy, but I won’t tell!” It was as if Trucy didn’t even need to stop to breathe while speaking.

“Trucy, your father needs to rest.” Miles, who had at least stopped to leave his coat on the rack, needed to catch his breath. “Sorry to wake you, love. I hope you got some sleep since we left.”

“I slept great, yeah. Did you two have a good tibe?” Phoenix looked up at Miles with glassy eyes and a tired smile.

“We had a wonderful time, but we missed you. It’s a shame you were too sick to come with us.” Miles glanced at the empty bowl and mug on the coffee table. “So you finally ate something?”

“Does that mean Daddy can have some of our candy now?” Trucy lifted her heavy pumpkin shaped basket. “He ate something healthy!”

“Not tonight, I don’t think. Why don’t you change into your pajamas and get ready for bed?” Miles pointed at his watch. “We already came home late.”

“Aw, okay.” Trucy pouted and dragged her feet walking to her bedroom.

Phoenix watched her leave and then frowned at Miles.

“What’s that look for?”

“You’re doh fud.” Phoenix sniffled.

“You were the one who wanted me to be more authoritative with her.” Miles was right; every time Trucy wanted something, she would go straight to him if she thought Phoenix would say no. Phoenix found it funny at first, but it got out of hand when Miles rented some ponies for Trucy’s previous birthday, ponies that needed to be cleaned up after. “It’s a school night.”

“I dod’t thigk she’d be up too late just shari’g a couple chocolates.” Phoenix reasoned. The couch made a squeak as he turned on his side.

“Do you think you could even taste them with you being that congested?” Miles peered into the tissue box on the coffee table, finding it empty. He wasn’t pleased to hear Phoenix blowing his nose into a tissue he had definitely used before.

“Aa’SCHOOUuh! HT’TCHUUUh! Ah, dabbit.” Phoenix cursed at his effort to clear his nose being undone so quickly. “I guess I should just go to sleep.”

“That’s a good idea.” Miles kissed Phoenix’s warm cheek. “Are you coming to bed or staying on the couch for the night?”

“It’s probably a better idea to sleep here.” Phoenix blew his nose again in the crumpled tissue that left the skin it touched sore and red. “You have a trial this week, right? I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I’ve already accepted that as inevitable.” Miles picked up the living room waste basket to dispose of the tissues that had accumulated on the couch while he was out. “Though I can’t blame you for staying here if you intend on sleeping under more used tissues.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been out since about an hour after you and Trucy left for trick-or-treating.”

Miles winced as he pictured just how many times his boyfriend had reused tissues while he was gone. No wonder his nose was so red Miles could think of a few costumes it would enhance.

“I’ll take another box from the hall closet for you. Do you want something to drink? I could heat up some apple cider so you can feel festive.”

“That would be great.”

Miles gave Phoenix another light kiss before heading to the kitchen. He took mental notes of what counters would need cleaning in the morning, particularly where it was undeniable that Phoenix tried refilling his own tea but was too out of it to keep the mug steady. As much as Miles wanted to spend the rest of the night personalizing Phoenix’s cider, it was getting late and Phoenix had no objections to just heating a mug in the microwave.

While the microwave was doing its job, Miles made a trip to the hall closet to deliver a fresh tissue box to Phoenix.

“I hope this lasts until morning.” Miles tore off the cardboard covering the opening. “Maybe you could take something so you can sleep easier and use less of these?”

“Yes, please.” Phoenix coughed with his fist pressing against his mouth.

The microwave beeped just as Miles went to retrieve the mug. On his way back, he made a stop at the bathroom to pick up a pack of NyQuil capsules. He blew lightly over the steaming mug to cool it off a little before he brought the drink and medicine to his boyfriend.

“Here you go, love. Let me know if it’s too hot or not hot enough.”

Phoenix popped out two capsules and washed them down with a large drink of cider. It burned his throat a little, making him tear up, but at least that part was done and over with. It was better than taking the medicine as a liquid, that was for sure.

“Thanks so much, hon. I can’t wait to get some sleep.”

“I’m looking forward to you getting some sleep as well.” Miles picked up the empty bowl and mug from the coffee table so there was only the mug of cider to worry about. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“G’night.”

Miles washed the dishes thoroughly but quickly enough for him to turn in at a reasonable time. He kept silent as he stopped to watch Phoenix finding a comfortable position to sleep in and stayed still for a while in case Phoenix needed anything.

With a quiet yawn, Miles began his trip through the hall, only to stop suddenly with a hitch of his breath.

“Hh’sshhooh!” He sniffed. “Oh, of course.”

#whumptober #whumptober 2020 #sickfic whumptober alt #sneezing #snez #snz #sneeze kink #snez attorney #thanks for putting up with me this month

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comfy-whumpee · 4 years

Text

Dinner And A Show

Part of the Ellis AU. @lonesome--hunter, @iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektricwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi.

He was wearing an emerald-green silk shirt and black slacks. His shoes were polished and his hair was brushed and tied back. The ponytail was a little off centre, so that it lay over one shoulder and made a striking contrast with the shirt. He looked amazing – and the button-up sleeves hid all of his scars.

“You’re going to ace it,” Nic said as they fastened his cufflinks. “Just be confident, and don’t hesitate. Remember, this is work, not a real date. You just have to seem genuine.”

“Not a problem,” Ellis said. He briefly flashed a look of wide-eyed, guileless innocence, and Nic laughed. They laughed even as they remembered just how Ellis had come to possess that skill.

“Yeah, like that. You’ll be in control the whole time, honey.”

Ellis nodded, consulting his file one last time before setting it down on the floor. Alistair knelt there, hands holding the chain in his lap, head bent. He would be reading the file, Ellis’s strategy guide, the whole way through the outing, providing Ellis with the ability to check any detail he’d forgotten. No information would escape him. No surprises. He would be in control.

Nic kissed his cheek, and smiled. “Perfect. Go on, taxi’s waiting.”

They watched him go with a wistful smile. His back was straight and his head held high as he descended the stairs to leave. He’d never used to walk like that. He’d never been comfortable as the centre of attention. But then, they were starting to understand. The person he was day to day...wasn’t really him. He only came back to them in those private moments alone.

They hated what he was doing. They hated why he was doing it even more. He’d come out of it, one day.

For Ellis’s part, he was too busy thinking about the meeting. When he arrived, he was still thinking through information he could use. When he greeted her, he made sure his handshake was one she liked.

Handshake: Like she’s trying to crush your fingers and she wants you to do it back.

“Mr Engels,” she said, seeming impressed. “In the flesh.”

Ellis smiled sweetly. “That’s me. Pleasure, Ms Farringdon.”

She allowed him to lead her into the restaurant, and didn’t speak until they were seated. Only once the waiters were at a distance did she say, “I have heard rumours about you. You are... Different to the image I had.”

Ellis smiled a little less warmly now. He knew what the rumours about him were. Some of them, he had planted. “Let me guess. A terrifying crime lord, or Alistair’s sugar baby.”

“The latter,” she acknowledged. “They said you were... Pretty.”

He smiled again. Self-effacing, a touch embarrassed. “I’m glad you think so. But back to the pertinent topic. Why did you agree to meet me? I know you’re not on best terms with the original Engels.”

She looked to the side, prefacing her avoidance of the question. “I don’t recall any significant animosity between us.” Then her eyes returned to him and she smiled. “I was curious, of course. Alistair has worked alone for so long.”

“He has,” Ellis agreed neutrally. He looked down at the menu, considering.

Food: Hates seafood of all kinds. Hates hot food. Subtle flavours.

“I recommend the risotto,” he offered, as he selected the vegetarian ravioli for himself. “Mild flavour, delicate seasoning.”

She raised a sardonic eyebrow. “No starter?”

“Oh, naturally,” he said smoothly. “But the main course should be accounted for, when ordering the first.”

She hummed a brief chuckle. One slip, navigated successfully. He returned to looking at the drinks, until she spoke again.

“Why didn’t he come himself?”

Her tone was hardened around the edges, marked by her suspicion. There were rumours about him, yes, but she didn’t know that this was the person she’d expected to meet. He could have sent a decoy. He could be the decoy, for Alistair.

“Indisposed,” he said simply. None of her doubt was being expressed aloud, and he didn’t need to address it yet. “He sends his regards.”

She rolled her eyes. “Unlikely. He doesn’t like me.”

Alistair: ‘She’s a ruthless egomaniac who would kill her own mother for a tactical advantage.’

“He respects you,” he replied, setting his menu aside for the sake of signalling to their waiter that they were ready. “He did not think you should be subjected to dinner with him. Colleagues you may be, but friends, you are not.”

She considered that for a moment. He sat still under her blue eyes, reading his expression as best she could. He made sure to look simple, pleasant and honest, and while she wouldn’t truly believe that, the plausible deniability was useful.

She looked all the way to his shirt cuffs before looking back up. “Nice cufflinks.”

The formality was eroding. Ellis smiled, touching one. “Thank you. I hope you find dinner with me tolerable, if not pleasant.”

She propped her elbow on the table, chin resting across the back of her hand as she regarded him more intensely. Under his shirt the scars hid, and itched, and she kept looking.

Farringdon shook her head. “You don’t have to try so hard, cherub. Your partner and I have worked together enough in the past that you have some goodwill. Let’s just try to have fun.”

Ellis smiled properly, eyes bright with perfectly practised sincerity. “Let’s.”

Ellis closes his eyes with his hands poised over the keyboard.

Absolute silence in his home. Alistair is by the desk, waiting for an order. Nic is outside in the garden, reading under the porch. It’s raining, but Ellis had the office soundproofed a while ago. No sound in. No sound out.

He reaches for her.

Vision. Hearing. He connects himself up to her, taking in everything that she does. His hands start to move on the keyboard.

Computer, OS, email client, email address, every one that he can read down the side of her screen. Subject titles, as fast as he can type them, before she clicks off.

Email drafting. He transcribes in synchronicity with her, a second behind the movements of her body. He follows her pauses, her typos, her corrections, her edits. He is exactly as focused as she is, her words flowing onto her page and onto his without pause.

Email sent. Closed. More subject titles for what’s in her inbox. More in her sent items.

A video of horses. Even professional murderers have hobbies.

Then she checks it. Finally, she opens her phone and checks it, and he sees clearly the little GPS tracker she put on his bag when she thought he wasn’t looking - and he wasn’t, not with his own eyes, he practically handed her the opportunity. The bag is on a bus right now, and she closes the app, returning her attention to the computer.

A file. Title, date, last modified, author, and the content as fast as he can type it, which is faster than she can read it. Some distant thought recognises that the file is about him. He doesn’t pause. He will have her knowledge, all of her knowledge, and then he will know exactly what she thinks of him.

A notification on her phone pings and she looks down at it. Payment confirmation. He catches the banking app, the mobile network, the amount. She checks the GPS again, and sees its location.

She looks back at the profile of him and he types out the details of his own weekly routine without stopping to think about what it might mean until she gets up, and picks up a pre-packed bag, and takes one last look at her file and his photo and he watches her read the line about where he will be at this time of day, which he isn’t, because he’s watching her, and she heads out of the house.

She gets into her car, license plate noted, make, model, colour, landmarks around where she is driving from, street names, he can work out where she’s based later, and then she drives to his gym.

Before she gets out of the car, she checks her bag. He’s not surprised to see what’s inside.

In the pause as she looks, he writes a note to himself. Cancel gym membership.

He watches her move through the rooms in search of him. He watches her circle the property. He takes notes on how she enters and exits, how she avoids notice, the way she glances for cameras and speaks to those she passes as though she were a normal patron. He will learn from her, as he has learned from everyone in his life.

She leaves after half an hour of looking for him, bag still slung over her shoulder. She gets back into her car and pulls out a different phone. Dials a contact, and Ellis’s fingers fly to record the number.

“Hello.”

Ellis’s fingers stop.

“He wasn’t there.”

“Well, keep trying. You only have to find him once. I’m a patient man.”

The line disconnects.

Ellis opens his eyes. At the bottom of his garbled, rushed, typo-ridden document, there is a single word spelt with precision.

Harvey.

He takes a deep breath, and rests his wrists on the desk as the assassin drives home.

Harvey is trying to kill him.

#psychological whump #ellis: a whumper #my fic #whump #paranoia fuel #telepathy #failed assassination #manipulation #manipulative whumper #ellis #harvey #farringdon #nic

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mcgrillzdumpinc · 4 years

Text

Hak x Kija - First Date

Wow, I’m back doing stuff for Akayona! Request comes from the lovely angryharmonyqueen

Word Count: 2103 Warnings: None ao3 link

It was a regular autumn afternoon at Kouka University. Calm weather, slightly cloudy skies, and a campus milling with pods of busy students. Kija had just finished his morning Thursday classes and was eating his lunch, taking what little time he had to enjoy himself before his final class of the day. He was scrolling through missed texts, mainly from his grandmother, when he heard a noticeable whump in front of him. Looking at the sound, he saw Hak sitting down in front of him, book bag slumped heavy on the wire table.

“So… want to go on a date?” he asked, casual, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

Kija spat out his drink. “Wh-what?!”

Hak raised an eyebrow, his expression infuriatingly expectant. “Did you forget you confessed to me last week?”

Kija crushed his juice box, not really caring that its contents spilled over his scales. It was true, he had confessed in a spectacularly embarrassing fashion nearly a week ago. But that was due to his brothers egging him on and – “I wasn’t expecting anything from it!” he protested.

For the love of the gods, Hak pouted in response. That was nearly enough to give Kija a heart attack! “If you didn’t expect anything from it, why would you tell me?”

Spurred on by his eager nerves and the bothersome stickiness between his scales, Kija stood up from his seat and hurried to the nearest water fountain, throwing away the juice box as he went. Hak followed him. As Kija ran water over his hand, Hak leaned over his shoulder, his face much too close for Kija’s enjoyment.

“So? Will you tell me?”

Kija resolutely turned his head away. Hak moved to lean over his other shoulder. Kija scowled.

“Why are you so angry, White Snake?”

“Y-you…!” Kija started to dry his hand with a handkerchief. His face was burning, and it had everything to do with Hak. “D-don’t… don’t get my hopes up.”

A noise of disbelief came from the other man. “Do you really think I would do that? I’m hurt.”

Kija squeaked. “No! You’re a perfectly respectable individual, very sweet and honorable! I-i-it’s just that—”

Before he could continue, Hak took his hand. It was perfectly dry now, but still he took Kija’s handkerchief to rub at the scales. Through the thin layer of fabric, his thumb rubbed across Kija’s palm, and the dragon could’ve kissed him right then and there.

“Then go out with me. I want to try with you.”

Kija stared at him. The expression before him was as serious and steadfast as Hak could ever get. There was no denying his honesty, not when he looked so much like a loyal knight.

Embarrassment broke their eye contact. Kija whispered, “Okay.”

~~~

They agreed to meet up at Hiryuu Park the following Saturday. Kija arrived in a pair of tan oxford boots, light blue acid-washed jeans, and a white with black stripes open shirt, with a blue tank top underneath. He was there first, of course, because it was only reasonable to show up to a date fifteen minutes early! He managed to pass the time by texting his friends, almost lulling himself to a total calm by the time his date arrived.

“Hey, White Snake.”

Hak’s voice, deep, rumbling, and unbearably sexy, interrupted Kija from typing an indignant response to Jae-ha’s teasing. Hesitantly, Kija looked up to greet his date, only for his mouth to run dry at the sight. Hak was in a rich blue button-up tucked into black trousers, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and buttons undone just enough to offer a peak at his chest. The trousers had embroidered details along the pants’ leg—stitched in grey so they were barely noticeable except for an observant eye. On his feet were a pair of black dress shoes—bluchers, was Kija’s best guess—and in his hands was a sizeable bouquet of pink and white flowers, interspersed with little yellow flowers. Hak, the bastard, smirked when he noticed Kija’s fluster.

“That sexy, White Snake?”

Kija gawked, spluttered, all but threw his phone and wallet at the stupidly hot man, before he managed to squeak out, “You’re too dressed up!”

Hak stared at him, dumbfounded.

“We agreed to a simple lunch date! I came in casual clothes! Why are you dressed like we’re about to travel to Europe?!”

Hak pouted, the bastard. “Yona said you’d like this…”

Kija actually screeched at that. “Don’t bring the princess into this! Her taste is impeccable, and she’s right, I do like it! But not for a casual date!” Before he could think twice, he took Hak’s free hand. “Come on, we’re getting you changed!”

~~~

They ended up in a retail store nearby. Much to Kija’s embarrassment, Hak picked out an outfit that matched his—dark blue jeans, a white tank-top with blue stripes, and a grey button-up unbuttoned to this navel. But arguing was pointless when Hak only had to smile knowingly to shut Kija up. With Hak’s previous outfit in a bag and the bouquet resting on Kija’s arm, the two hurried to a café one of Kija’s cousins owned.

“I-I really hope you don’t mind coming to a place my family works…” Kija mumbled as they were seated. What he didn’t say was my grandmother insisted we come here.

Hak hummed. “No, I don’t mind.”

The menus were laid out before them, but Kija could only stare at his hands in his laps. He heard Hak order their drinks for them—hazelnut coffee for Hak, lemon green tea for Kija—but he couldn’t say a word until the waitress left. “Th-th-that’s good…” he managed to whisper.

They lapsed into silence. Peaking up revealed Hak with the menu in one hand and his phone in the other. To Kija’s chagrin, he was much more interested in the latter.

When their drinks were delivered and the waitress asked for their food orders, Kija managed to order a salad. Hak ordered a sandwich. The menus were returned and the unbearable silence resumed.

Just as frustration was about to win over Kija’s nerves, Hak finally spoke. “So, um… what are your hobbies?”

That elicited a surprised chuckle out of Kija. “Why would you ask me that? You’ve known me for years!”

Hak pouted, overly adorable for such a handsome man. “The article said to…”

Kija crossed his arms, finally sitting up straight. “The article?”

Hak grumbled and passed over his unlocked phone. On the screen was an online article titled AWKWARD FIRST DATE? HERE’S 10 CONVERSATION STARTERS. Kija couldn’t help himself—he started laughing instantly. “You—you looked this up?! We’ve been friends for so long, you don’t need this!”

“That’s the problem!” Hak argued as he retrieved his phone. “This is our first date, it should be—I don’t know—different? I don’t want it to be like every time we’ve hung out.”

In truth, their hangouts were the definition of casual. Usually, them and their shared friend group would meet up at either Hak or Yona’s houses and watch movies or play games. Kija tended to fall asleep before midnight and had to be carted back to his home. But on more than one occasion, Kija and Hak would spend a night alone watching B-rated sci-fi movies or forgotten action classics, since they were the only two people in their friend group who liked such flicks. Those nights were the instigator behind Kija’s feelings as well as a treasured source of memories that he could play over and over when he was lonely. But he had to agree with Hak—it wouldn’t be a good first date if it was at all like their usual hangouts, silence that was only interjected with jeering or laughter. He wanted something lovely, something more like a cheesy romance novel than a movie for teenagers. It made him happy, knowing that Hak felt the same.

Kija heard a camera snap and immediately turned to glare at his cousin from where she was peeking from the kitchen. She only giggled and noticeably took another picture before escaping to her station.

Kija sighed before pulling on a smile. “It’s nice we agree, then.” Remembering the bouquet, he leaned over to the bag holding Hak’s clothes and the bouquet to pluck out one of the small yellow flowers. The tiny stem pinched between his thumb and pointer finger, he held it out to Hak. “To a good first date?”

A dusting of pink peeked out from Hak’s tan skin. “Yeah…” he agreed as he took the flower and tucked it behind his right ear, “to a good first date.”

Things become easier, after that. The food was delivered and quickly devoured. A chocolate cake, “compliments of the chef”, was placed between them within minutes of finishing lunch, and the two of them split it. Hak, of course, has more of the cake than Kija—the man was the quicker and more voracious of them, but Kija didn’t mind. He was too enchanted by the specks of chocolate cake on Hak’s mouth, the flower in Hak’s hair, and good conversation to complain. Thankfully, Kija’s cousin doesn’t bother them any further, and Kija paid the cheque without hassle.

They walked somewhat aimlessly after that. A live band performance was scheduled at the park they met at, but that wasn’t for another hour. Kija found himself enjoying the easy silence, and he kept staring at the bouquet once again in his arms. He couldn’t believe Hak, a brute by most estimates, had chosen something so beautiful for him. Just as Kija was about to properly thank him for the gift, Hak suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, hands dug into his pants pockets and face towards the ground, and asked, “Are you having fun…?”

Kija turned to face him. “Of course I am!” The sullen dip of Hak’s lips and scrunch of his eyebrows didn’t lift. Kija stepped into his space, forcing eye contact. “I’ve had a lovely time so far.” Embarrassment flooded his cheeks and made him look away. “I… This is better than anything I’ve imagined.”

He heard Hak snort. “I know about those romance books you like to read. This hasn’t been as great as those, I’m sure.”

Kija frowned, crossed his arms. “Those are dramatic. I don’t read them because they’re exactly what I want.” Age-old frustration rose within him, threatening to force out the wrong words. He was never good at saying exactly what he wanted. Instead, he took a deep breath and waited out the frustration, then the hint of awkwardness, then managed to say, “Everything I’ve imagined and everything I’ve read haven’t had the reality of having you actually here with me.” He grabbed Hak’s wrist and kept on charging through, before humiliation and anxiety could catch up to his mouth. “I’ve wanted to be with you for years. You could throw me into the sea and I would still consider this the best, most fun date I’ve ever been on.”

Hak was silent. Kija was about to take back all his words, save himself a least a little pride, when a calloused hand reached up to caress Kija’s chin and guide him to look up. Kija followed through and barely had time to appreciate the vulnerability on Hak’s face before the taller man kissed him.

Fireworks burst beneath his lips, spread through his teeth and his gums, traveled down his throat and expanded through his entire body. In that moment, he could lift a piano with his human hand, could run a marathon without breaks, could hold the entire world on his back. His heart burst, and it was the most wonderful Kija had ever felt.

“I feel the same,” Hak said when he pulled back. “I-I mean…” He snaked an arm around Kija’s back, tugged him closer. The flowers crushed between their chests, but Kija couldn’t find it in himself to care. With his hand on Kija’s cheek, their breaths intermingling, black hair tickling pale cheeks, Hak muttered, “My feelings for you are recent, I think. But, I… I wanted to go out with you and it’s been great. You’ve been great. Kija, I want to be your boyfriend. Can we?”

Kija’s smile could barely contain his joy. This was more than he had ever dreamed of on those lonely nights. Hak wanted him too. Hak wanted him. His happiness alone could power the whole city.

“Of course,” he said. “I want to be your boyfriend, too.” And then he leaned in to steal a kiss of his own.

#akatsuki no yona #sometimes i write #son hak #Hakuryuu Kija #hakkija #kijahak

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kats-kradle · 4 years

Text

Here’s whumpmasinjuly day 21: breathe and yes it’s late but shhhh

also I told myself I wouldn’t write because I’ve been sick buuut my sister was watchbig race to the edge and I was like hey let’s whump this animated character from a show designed for kids and I have no regrets this is a short scene that takes place in 3x01 after Dagur and Hiccup bring Toothless to the cave anyway here’s wonderwall

“Bitterness is not a good color on you, brother,” Dagur remarked casually, poking the fire. Hiccup glowered- actually glowered- and looked away, absentmindedly fiddling with a rock. Dagur frowned. Hiccup was acting almost like- almost like you, a voice whispered. Dagur shooed it away.

“So, how have you been dealing with the whole... Viggo ordeal?” He asked after a moment by way of an attempted conversion starter. Hiccup huffed in frustration.

“Dagur, if you want to mock me, please just- choose something else, alright?” He snapped. Dagur felt a bit insulted, but chose let it slide. It wasn’t like Hiccup to be this short-tempered.

“I promise I’m not trying to mock you. I’ve changed, remember?” Hiccup rolled his eyes.

“We’ve been dealing as well as can be expected,” he said tightly. He always was a terrible liar.

“I asked how you’re doing, not how everyone else is doing,” Dagur pushed gently. Hiccup seemed surprised.

“I- I’m fine, I guess.”

“Really? You don’t look it,” Dagur commented. Hiccup threw him a sour look before seeming to deflate, looking smaller than he already was

“Viggo got the dragon’s eye,” he admitted. Dagur whipped his head up, shocked. Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I- I was so stupid, I couldn’t just leave it behind where it would be safe, and now he’s got it,” Hiccup continued, “he can’t open it because he doesn’t have a Wraith tooth but what’s stopping him from just finding a Wraith and yanking in out? Oh, Thor,” he dropped his head into his hands, “I’ve made such a mess of things- I was so stupid, and now every last dragon that exists has to pay for it instead of me- why can’t it be me? Why-”

Dagur had experienced enough panic attacks in his time that he could spot one a mile off, and he wasn’t about to let his “little brother” go through one if he could help it. He quickly knelt in front of Hiccup, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, whatever happened happened. It’s in the past. I know the guilt’s eating you up, but I need you to not focus on that right now and just breathe, okay?” Hiccup nodded a bit miserably. Dagur took the moment to look at Hiccup- really look at him. Hiccup had always been scrawny, but it had always been a healthy kind of scrawny, a natural scrawniness built into him, but now... skeletal wasn’t the right word, but he certainly looked as though he had lost weight.

“Have you been sleeping? Eating? At all?” Dagur asked, true concern flowing through him.

“Of course!” Hiccup replied indignantly. Dagur narrowed his eyes.

“Could have fooled me,” he muttered, “if you took care of yourself maybe your leg would stop acting up.” Hiccup all but squawked.

“My leg is not-”

“You can’t lie to save your life, brother. I can see you’re walking with more of a limp than usual,” he accused. Hiccup looked away, subconsciously shifting his leg closer.

“You’ve got a lot of people that care about you, Hiccup,” Dagur told him firmly, giving him a small but gentle shake, “maybe let yourself open up to them once in a while.”

“They shouldn’t have to carry my problems,” Hiccup said quietly, looking down. Dagur snorted.

“I don’t think you have much choice in the matter. They’d be willing to do pretty much anything for you, and I think the least you could do would be to be honest with them.” Hiccup let out a huff of a laugh.

“I never thought I’d hear such wise things coming from you. I must have hit my head,” he half-joked. Dagur grinned, rising to his feet and holding out a hand.

“Lots of time alone to think. Now come on, we should check on your dragon.”

#Whump #Whumpmasinjuly #Whumpmasinjuly day 21 #So #Um #This isn’t my best writing #I wrote it all in like 1-2 hrs #Race to the edge #Hiccup #Dagur #Writing #Anyway enjoy #?#I’m sorry

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randomfandomimagine · 4 years

Note

Heyo love your writing, could you do some headcannons on Jaskier with a trans male s/o that's feeling kinda insecure if your comfortable to

Thank you for requesting! :)

Jaskier:

You were scared of Jaskier’s reaction when he found out

But him, knowing you so well, noticed something was bothering you

Also, he had an idea of what it was, of your big secret

One day, he worriedly asked you what was upsetting you and you spoke

You sat him down and explained to him that you were trans

Jaskier was a little surprised, but deep down he knew

Mostly, he was taken aback that you were so bold and honest about it

He thought you would be a little less direct, but he liked that you just said it

Still, he wasn’t sure how to respond at first

“Oh” He just said initially. “So that was why had you so worried?”

“Yes…” You refused to look into his eyes, still afraid

Jaskier, behaving like he normally would, took your hands in his

It was good to see he still had no problem touching you

And being as affectionate and loving as usual

“Why, Y/N? Why were you so worried about telling me this?”

“I was terrified you would see me differently, that you would…”

“Would what, love?” “Stop loving me”

Jaskier had to laugh a little, thinking that idea is absurd

“I could never stop loving you, and I don’t see you differently”

He kissed your knuckles and sweetly smiled at you

“If anything, now I know that you’re even braver than I thought”

“But-” “Nu-uh, let me finish. Now I know and I’ll be able to help you”

“Help me?” “Yes, if you ever need anything, that’s what I’m here for, right?”

You smiled, relieved that he reacted like that, and nodded

Then it was your choice to tell Jaskier the whole thing

About how you lived before and now that you feel like yourself

How you’re still a little insecure sometimes about it

Knowing this, Jaskier would do his absolute best to change that

Complimenting you even more often than usual, for starters

Giving more attention to those body parts you might be insecure about

Being willing to fight anyone that looks at you weird

Just anything for his dear Y/N that he adores so much

Tag list: @kingniazx / @greeniemoon / @they-call-me-thewildrose / @aviankin / @jasper-the-stan / @v3nusc3 / @kisabellar / @breezyfails / @squirrel-saloli / @saveatruckrideoptimusprime / @ultracolorfulnerdcollection / @creativemayhems / @bands-messed-me-up / @pantrashtic / @buckyness-intensifies / @drunkonbuckybarnes / @designfailure56 / @this-is-whump-dammit / @anderfelll-s // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

The hatchling

@brutal-nemesis Welp, here you have the super late little drabble for Plant day. Somehow could finish it today :)

It´s actually part of my larger, older project Power Doesn´t Make You Immortal (renamed Tears of Ash from now on! :3) and it´s actual lore. There´s an illustration at the end too! ^^

CW// body horror, scifi whump, loss of autonomy, mind control, alien, nonhuman whumper and whumpee, whumping of a minor, death, used as a nutrient, horror, alien whump. honestly idk how to tag this alksjdflkj

They hadn’t known the rift surrounding Zone 0, the closest to the meteor crater, had changed its flora and fauna that drastically.

The little one who had slipped through the contention center’s bars and ran all the way to Zone 0 with the stolen food in their arms had sighed in relief when the soldiers stopped behind the wire fence. Not willing to adventure further than that to chase them.

They had thought themself lucky. They would run back home later, right after they discovered what type of plant walked on its vines over the water.

After the crash, everything stopped. So of course, schools had stopped teaching, there were many like them that only knew to follow orders someone who could read would yell for the general population. They didn’t know the signs at the fence stated very clearly why the soldiers had walked away. Why the place was filled with plants that didn’t belong to this world. Yet, for a kid that had never known outside, it was just the same level of unknown.

They didn’t know how wrong it was to follow the bioluminescence on the ground, lighting up each of their steps as they jumped, it was too much fun, and they felt so light suddenly.

They spinned and fell made a giggling mess right next to the walking vine.

Both stopped moving, staring at each other. It was then, the boy noticed the vine had eyes.

They wanted to run away when the vine changed their course and began inching their green roots towards them. In vain, they tried to lift themself up. How could they know Zone 0´s air was composed almost entirely of carbon dioxide?

Their limbs failed to lift them to safety and they could only take shallow breaths as the vine´s eyes drilled them to the ground in fear.

Looking closely, the vine didn´t look like it was a plant at all, its eyes didn´t look like actual eyes either. They were more like a net of threads that moved like a hyperfast congested highway. It was only when the vine lifted one of it´s leafed threads to their forehead, that the little boy knew its touch burnt.

The sudden freezing numbness was quickly replaced with the agony of being burnt. The boy began crying, but the scream trapped on his chest wouldn´t come out.

He was completely silent when the vine forced them to stand on stiff, shaky legs that made his tears roll down even harder despite their ten thousand yards stare.

At each step, blisters popped up on the boy´s forehead and the blood went down in rivulets, tainting red the glowing flora that lit up below their feet. Lighting the way down a cave.

The boy´s mind was beyond the pain now, completely entranced in the agony of the sensation of fire running through their veins. With their mind and senses gone, they couldn´t see the chamber filled with hardened cocoons. Couldn´t hear the steps of something crawling near by, watching the vine walk the unfortunate boy to an empty cocoon, opening it´s fleshy threads as if arms opened for a hug.

As they stepped forward, all veins in their body popped out and chocking in their own drool, the cocoon enclosed them, fine wires wrapped their body as they stood inside the sealing cocoon and when they tigtened, all their bones crushed.

The light of their eyes vanished as the cocoon began to fill with a thick liquid. From outside, the remaining air and poisoned gas was exhaled from the orifice in the top, where the vine had climbed to and then dropped into the pool of goo with the boy before a large tube connected the cocoon to another, sealing it away.

The chamber was silent once again. The fumes dissipating into the air the creature repting swooshed with their tail. It would take days, a few weeks, before it fed completely the third chamber, a one similar to the one they had been born from.

But it wouldn´t worry about their loneliness. Not yet. Its sprouts walked the entirety of the Zone 0´s 8 kilometers, waiting for another pair of biped creature to wander inside their territory.

A few weeks later, when the two coccons had lost all color and some recovering ones laid open and wethered, steam was expulsed ferociously. The vines threading the cocoon began to untie themselves to slowly reveal the creature waking to existance.

It´s yellow eyes with black scleras opened to an unknown world with a gasp for air. Sensation began to flood into them. Breathing was suffocating, painful and they couldn´t manage to keep it inside with their frenetic gaping. Noise drilled into their pointy ears which quickly glued to their skull in an effort to muffle it, they pressed the heels of their hands to their eyes splashing everywhere with the burning black goo.

In the desperation to run from the overwhelming sensations of the new world, they stepped outside their cocoon and fell into soft arms. They struggled for a second, but a pressure going up and down their back soothed them into the crook of their neck, long matted hair hid their eyes from the annoying buzzying light as the instinct to curl and hide away made their tail coil around the being rubbing their back.

They didn´t know how to speak. They didn´t have vocal cords either, as they didn´t need them.

They could hear the soothing voice of the sibling that held them in their arms inside their head, silencing the terrifying world that expanded beyond their comprehension.

After they had calmed down, the other exorted them to open their eyes, to look up at them.

With a low whine, they obeyed and lifted their face to look with wide doe eyes at the hairy creature that wasn´t bothered by the goo dripping on their skin. A set of yellow eyes locked with the wide of almost orange ones as they bared their teeth.

They tried to paddle away, but their sibling held them tight, preventing them from escaping.

“That´s called a smile. Humans don´t consider a threat” they told them as they slowly untightened their jaw.

A low rumble from their lower abdomen, made another smile appear on their pale face.

“Right, you must be so, so hungry” They lifted them up in their arms with ease, despite their size being barely half of that of the hatchling. “Usually, we just eat whatever we come across at first” they explained them as they took them to another part of the chamber, away of the cocoons. They walked for a while, leaving a track of blue lights on their wake.

That was until slowly and carefully, the other let down the hatchling. Who clinged an arm to the soft fabric that covered their body from the sudden freezing temperature.

Their tail straightened up as they threw a low snarl and began rubbing their clawed hands against their arms. Their sibling let out a short wheeze. It amused the hatchling that such a sound could be so beautiful. Nothing like the buzzying that surrounded them still.

The hatchling threw their gaze over the scattered lumps on the ground. They didn´t have much time to wonder what was below them as their sibling uncovored it to find a variety of faces. The creatures looked similar to how their sibling looked like and some were sprinkled with blood, or what they assumed was that red goo

“But in this planet, there´s plenty to take from” they said as they invited them to get closer on shaking legs “Go ahead and choose”

The hatchling took a long look at the variety of options, unable to decide until their eyes trained on a little freckled boy with half lidded black eyes. They reached towards their face and their claws with only five fingers, spreaded naturally to double the number. They gripped their jaw and turned it as gently as they new born status allowed them to.

Their sibling watched from afar and didn´t even twitch when the recipient´s neck cracked with the force and they told the hatchling to be gentler.

“Stop rubbing it all over, there´s still many that may choose them”

“I want them” they replied, remembering the words and threading them as their brain learnt how to from the previous conversations.

The other hummed suprised and simply waved their hand and walked away.

“Walk outside when you´re finished. We have a mission to fulfill”

As their steps melted into the silence, the hatchling towered above the human boy´s stiff body. They looked at the boy´s face as their claws uncovered them fully.

The creature tilted their head in surprised amusement at not finding the corners that marked their mouth on the boy´s chest. As they opened their real mouth, the one that ran down their torso and opened up like a flower to a multitude of teeth, they concluded this so called “humans” had an strange way of feeding if they only had their fake mouths on their faces.

Once they swallowed the boy´s body, they would learn how they feeded themselves.

But for starters, the creature wailed as their tail retracted back into their spine and they began to burn their spotty skin to become the pale smooth type humans had. They stumbled and fell on their side with a cry as their horns fell off, burnt into nothing but a fume and replaced for the same shade of black the boy´s hair was.

With a pained crack, the shifter took the shape of the boy and fell dryly on the ground.

After a while, they stood up on their two legs. Their head bobbed to a side before they settled their small hands on either side of their head and cracked the bones on their neck back on place with a cry.

With only a few minutes from birth, the creature that took the boy´s body, walked outside to fulfill the mission they had been born for.

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