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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Text

Auction of Evil, Part 2

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

Have some pining and miscommunication. (Also some medical inaccuracies. I tried, but I am not a doctor.)

CW: dissociation(ish?), Bailey's crappy headspace, offscreen non-con drugging, sedation, asphyxia/hypoxia, adverse drug reactions (more explanation in tags)

Masterlist

---

I am ice. I am stone. I feel nothing.

Bailey repeated the words to themself silently as Slipknot summoned them to the stage, bringing them to heel with a click of their fingers.

It was Bailey’s mantra now; it had been since… since it happened. By the time of the auction, Bailey was numb to their surroundings. The last thing that they had truly felt was Slipknot’s… displeasure, when they found out that Bailey had been holding back in their fights against Foxfire.

The punishment had been severe, but Bailey had become used to those by now. It seemed they couldn’t do anything right anymore; punishments were the norm rather than the exception. That hadn’t been the worst part.

The worst part was the collar.

It was slim. It sat beneath the neckline of their suit, not even disrupting their silhouette. It was still obtrusive enough for Bailey to feel it every time they swallowed.

A constant reminder of their new position.

If you’re going to act like a misbehaving dog, little poppet, then I’ll treat you like one.

Bailey’s hands shook at the remembered pain, the shocks licking up and down their nerves.

No. No, they weren’t going to think of that. They were stone.

Stone didn’t care that it had disappointed its mentor. Stone didn’t care that its mentor was determined to get “at least some use out of you, after all the work I put in”.

Stone didn’t care who it was sold to.

Nothing would break through Bailey’s self-imposed numbness. They would survive; nothing else mattered.

That certainty splintered when Viper brought Foxfire down to the stage, carelessly dropping them like so much baggage.

Bailey’s breath caught at the sight of the hero limp and unmoving. Were they…?

“And as a bonus, I’ll include custody of the hero Foxfire to whoever wins the bid on Poppet,” they heard Slipknot say.

Their breath came unstuck from their throat at the confirmation. Their The hero was alive. Foxfire was more valuable alive than dead.

For now.

Bailey ignored the sounds of Slipknot playing auctioneer above them. They focused solely on Foxfire.

The hero looked… well. Not good, because they were far too still and silent to be good. Foxfire’s personality was as bright and vivacious as the blue fire they named themself after, as the trails left by their own teleportation powers. Seeing them so quiet was unnerving, unnatural. But physically, they looked unharmed.

(Of course they were unharmed. Heroes weren’t like villains; they looked after their own. And anyway, to the heroes, Bailey’s disappearance wouldn’t have been something worthy of punishment anyway. It would have been worthy of praise. Bailey had no reason to be worried about their nemesis, even beyond the fact that they shouldn’t be worrying about their nemesis.)

Foxfire stared sleepily back at Bailey. Their hazel eyes, usually so bright and mischievous behind their dark mask, looked hazy and dull. They blinked once, twice, eyelids moving slower each time.

Then the eyes didn’t reopen.

Bailey bit back on their cry of alarm. Nothing good would come of the villains knowing they cared about the hero. At best, it would bring mockery. At worst?

At worst, Bailey would be painting a target on Foxfire’s back. The hero was already going to be sold to the same person as them. If their buyer knew about Bailey’s sympathies, they wouldn’t hesitate to use that as another way to force Bailey’s cooperation.

Bailey wouldn't be helping Foxfire that way. They needed to keep calm, and keep silent.

Foxfire was fine. Foxfire would continue to be fine. They were just unconscious, drugged with whatever concoction Viper had used.

It got harder and harder to convince themself of that as they watched Foxfire’s breaths become ever shallower.

When they could no longer see the hero’s chest rise and fall, Bailey couldn’t hold it in any longer. They had to say something.

“Slipknot, they’re not breathing,” Bailey said quietly.

The hand on Bailey’s neck tightened in a silent warning.

A warning that Bailey ignored.

“Slipknot, they’re not breathing,” Bailey repeated, louder this time.

Their collar activated. Every muscle in Bailey’s body went rigid as electricity coursed through them. Even after the collar deactivated, they still twitched and shook with the after-effects.

Slipknot wanted them silent, and was willing to enforce that behavior through whatever means necessary. If Bailey were smart, they’d shut up and do as they were supposed to.

If Bailey were smart, they never would have been in this situation to begin with.

“They’re not breathing!” Bailey shouted.

Foxfire’s lips were starting to turn blue as their body starved of oxygen. Whatever Viper had used, the hero was reacting poorly to it.

“You want to sell custody of a hero?” Bailey continued. “That’s gonna be hard to do if the hero is dead!”

They twisted in their mentor’s grip to look up at them, hoping to appeal to something, anything, that would make Slipknot listen.

A discontented rumble emerged from the gathered crowd.

Slipknot stared down at Bailey with amused disdain. When they spoke, it wasn’t amplified for the crowd to hear. These words were just for Bailey.

“You care about if they live or die, poppet?” Slipknot scoffed. “I knew you were weak, but this?”

Bailey just stared pleadingly at them, not daring to speak further.

Slipknot smiled at them, expression devoid of kindness. “You think this would make any difference to them? They're still a hero, little poppet. You know what they'd do to you."

Bailey swallowed hard and nodded. They did know. Captured villains didn’t last long in hero custody—only as long as it took for the heroes to get the information and satisfaction they wanted out of them. Bailey had seen the scars their teammates had from close calls and narrow escapes.

Bailey wouldn’t be thanked for their actions here. If Foxfire lived through this, they wouldn’t hesitate to capture Bailey. They would pay for their actions against the heroes, and the punishment would undoubtedly be worse after this. After they’d shown that they cared, revealed that vulnerability for any villain here to exploit.

Maybe it was selfish to want to make sure the hero they cared about admired would survive. Wanting to keep their the hero alive even knowing that Foxfire would be hurt. Would be hurt because of them, something they’d been trying so hard to avoid in their fights.

If that was selfish? Then Bailey was selfish.

“Please,” they said.

Slipknot raised an eyebrow, then shook their head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, they shoved Bailey forward.

Bailey collapsed to their hands and knees, but quickly recovered enough to crawl towards the unconscious hero. They stared down at Foxfire’s limp form, unsure of what to do.

Think, Bailey, think!

Okay. Foxfire wasn’t breathing. They needed oxygen. Bailey had oxygen, and they knew how to give rescue breaths.

They could do this. They would save Foxfire, no matter what repercussions it brought.

Bailey tilted the hero’s head back and pressed their mouth against Foxfire’s. Their cheeks heated as they remembered a scene they had imagined, where this same motion had happened for very different reasons. They ignored their embarrassment; they could blush about this later.

For now? Bailey kept going. They ignored how Slipknot resumed the auction; they tuned out the sound of villains bidding on them. All that mattered was Foxfire, and the terrible intimacy of breathing for another person.

---

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump @heart4brains @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

🙃 & ☺️ for Bailey?

Auction of Evil, Part 3

🙃 - Someone to share their suffering with

☺️ - Soft words of reassurance

Whumptober alt 3: Dazed and Confused

Have some Bailey and Zera bonding after being sold off in the auction of evil!

CW: miscommunications, discussion of using them as leverage for the other, Bailey's crappy headspace. I think that's it? Let me know if I missed anything, or if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist

---

Zera’s head felt like a malfunctioning computer that someone was attempting percussive maintenance on: nothing worked, and everything hurt. The space behind their eyes throbbed, the hurt so big it seemed like it would push the orbs out of socket at any moment.

They closed their eyes and managed a weak groan.

“Wha…” They stopped, swallowed past the cotton-dry feeling in their mouth, and tried again. “Wha’ hap’nd?” they managed to slur out on this attempt.

Poppet stared at them, eyes filled with guilt and concern. “Don’t try to sit up, it’s just gonna make your headache worse,” they said. “Hang on, let me…”

They grabbed something by their side, then carefully scooted closer.

“Sorry, I know I’m probably the last person you want helping you,” they said softly. “But you need water, and right now you’d probably just spill it on your own.”

Zera hummed a little ‘it’s fine’ kind of noise, hoping that the point got across.

Poppet seemed to interpret the noise differently than Zera intended, because they sounded even more guilt-stricken when they spoke again.

“Yeah, sorry,” Poppet said. “I know. Villain, hero, nemeses. You have no reason to trust me. But I’m not trying to make this worse, I promise. I’m trying to help.”

Zera looked at them in confusion. The way they had to crane their head made Poppet appear upside-down in their field of vision. The thin skin beneath Poppet’s big blue eyes was stained a dark purple from lack of sleep, trauma, or both.

“Yeah,” they croaked out. “I believe you. ‘S fine.”

Poppet’s expression bloomed into something vulnerable, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips. It might have been disbelief, or incredulity, or maybe something like hope. Zera was in no state to interpret it.

The moment passed, and the villain looked down and away. “You need water,” they said. “Is it okay if I prop you up against my leg to make it easier?”

Zera rasped out a yeah, not willing to risk another nonverbal miscommunication.

Poppet gently maneuvered them so their head was propped against Poppet’s thigh. Then they lifted a cup of water to Zera’s lips, helping the hero take tiny sips at a time.

The water was lukewarm and tasted metallic. Zera was too thirsty to care. Slowly, their mouth stopped feeling like they tried to swallow a bag of cotton balls, and the ache in their head shrank enough to allow other thoughts to trickle in.

“Thanks,” Zera said.

Poppet shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. “It’s the least I can do.”

Zera didn’t know what to make of this. Poppet’s reactions, as well as the auction itself, didn’t make sense. They were missing something, some critical center piece of this puzzle that would make it all fit together properly.

For now, they didn’t even know enough to ask the right questions. Figuring out that particular mystery would have to wait.

“What happened?” they asked.

Poppet flinched. The movement was small, but Zera still noticed. Another puzzle piece to add to the pile.

“You, um,” Poppet started, then paused to bite their cheek. Finally they continued, “You were scoping out the auction, I’m guessing? And Viper found you, drugged you, brought you to the stage.”

“I remember that much,” Zera said wryly. “Slipknot said…”

Ugh, what was it? It was fuzzy, like the thoughts you have when trying to fall asleep. They frowned.

“They threw you in as a bonus lot, basically,” Poppet said quietly.

“Ugh,” Zera said with feeling. “Who bought us?”

Poppet bit their cheek again.

Zera twisted so they were facing their cellmate, rather than looking up at them. They couldn’t be sure they were reading the expression correctly upside down. But now that they were seeing it right-side up? Poppet looked… guilty.

“Poppet,” Zera said, trying their best to channel Elijah’s don’t-argue-with-me tone. “Who bought us?”

The villain’s expression collapsed in on itself. “I don’t know,” they admitted, tone barely above a whisper.

“You don’t know?!” Zera repeated incredulously. “How can you not know! Were you not paying attention to who was going to buy you!?”

This time, Poppet’s flinch was far less subtle. “I’m sorry,” they said. They sounded like they wanted to beg for mercy but knew it wouldn’t come.

Zera groaned and rubbed weakly at their eyes. Getting worked up wasn’t getting them answers; all it was doing was making their headache come back.

“No, I- ugh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten mad,” Zera said. “I just… Can you help me understand? Please? It didn’t seem like they were planning to take you off-stage, so I’m just… confused.”

There was a long pause.

“You weren’t breathing,” Poppet said, like they were confessing a sin.

“What?”

“You… After they got you on-stage, after you passed out. I think you must have reacted badly? To Viper’s drugs? You stopped breathing. You were turning blue,” Poppet said.

Zera winced at the thought. They knew, from Maeve and their own studies, that breathing issues were a potential complication of sedation. They’d just never thought about that in terms of Viper’s poisons.

“Okay…” they said slowly, thinking it through. “But I don’t understand how that connects.”

Poppet looked like they were holding back tears at this point. They took a deep breath before speaking again. “I told Slipknot about it, but they didn’t, wouldn’t, do anything. They were, um. Not happy, that I interrupted them.”

Their fingers went to their throat. It made Zera notice something they hadn’t before: a slim metal band encircling the villain’s neck.

Was that a shock collar?

“They didn’t do anything, but…” Poppet sniffed hard. “They let me.”

“Let you what?” Zera asked, unsure that they really wanted to know the answer.

“Help you,” Poppet answered, sounding like they were admitting a crime rather than saying how they’d potentially saved Zera’s life. “I don’t know who bought us because I wasn’t paying attention to the bidders. I was paying more attention to making sure you got oxygen.”

Zera stared, incredulous, at Poppet for a long, tense moment. That was… Why was Poppet talking like this was a horrible mistake they’d made? Like Zera would be furious for it? They’d saved Zera’s life!

“Thank you,” they said, trying to put all their feelings into the simple words.

Poppet shook their head hard enough to give Zera a vicarious headache. “You don’t get it,” they said, angry and miserable in equal measure. “This isn’t— I fucked up, okay? That’s the whole reason I’m in this mess in the first place! This is my punishment, and now I’ve gone and dragged you into it too!”

Zera put a hand on their arm. “Woah, calm down. What do you mean?”

“I—” They cut off abruptly and looked away, biting their cheek hard. “I wasn’t fighting you hard enough. That’s why Slipknot organized the auction.”

Zera smiled. “I knew it. I’m good, but not that good.”

Poppet’s eyes flicked back to Zera, and they gave a little smile too. “You are good.” The smile disappeared as they continued. “But now? I really fucked up, Foxfire.”

“How?”

“I let an entire audience of villains know that I care about you,” they confessed. “That I care if you get hurt, if you live or die. That’s… This isn’t a good thing. Whoever bought us? They were already gonna do whatever it took to get me to do their dirty work. I just handed them another tool.”

They looked pointedly at Zera’s neck. Zera raised a hand to find another collar there, presumably the same as the one Poppet was wearing.

“Shock collar?” they asked.

Poppet nodded miserably. “You may have already been in this mess, but my actions dragged you down a lot deeper.” They paused to sniff again. “You should port out of here. First chance you get? Run, and don’t look back.

“But,” Zera said, thinking about how Poppet insinuated their captors would hurt Zera to motivate them, “wouldn’t they hurt you if I did?”

They shrugged and looked away. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve already fucked up my own life; don’t let me fuck yours up, too.”

Nope. No, that was absolutely not going to work. Zera couldn’t let that stand.

They gently squeezed Poppet’s arm. “Hey. Look at me?”

Reluctantly, Poppet did.

“Thanks,” Zera said with a smile. “Firstly? Thank you, for saving my life. Whatever consequences come from that? Those are not your fault. That blame is squarely on anyone who would use someone’s decency against them. Caring about someone isn’t a fuck-up. And I’m a little biased here, but I’m really fucking grateful that you were brave enough to do that.”

“Do what?” Poppet asked quietly.

“Stand up to your mentor like that,” Zera replied. “It sounds like they’re, uh, not the easiest person to say no to.”

Poppet gave a laugh that was two-thirds sob. “No, they’re really, really not.”

Zera gave a wry smile. “Yeah. And as for me porting out if I get a chance? Not just no, but hell no.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to just leave you here to deal with the consequences of that!” Zera laughed incredulously. “That’d be a seriously dick move!”

Poppet frowned and shook their head. “But I—”

“Nope,” Zera cut them off. “No saying it doesn’t matter. It does. You matter, Poppet.”

Their eyes went all misty at that. Shit. How long had it been since someone had shown them even a scrap of kindness?

“I… I’m not sure I believe you,” they said hoarsely. “But. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Zera said, managing a weak grin. “Besides. My team will find us before too long. We just have to keep from dying of boredom until then.”

They knew damn well they’d have other things to worry about besides boredom, but the point of this was to make Poppet feel better, not worse.

Poppet nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. Your team will get you.”

“Get us,” Zera corrected. “I’m not going to leave you behind.”

“Right.” Poppet looked down, avoiding Zera’s gaze. “When they get us… I know you’re heroes, and that you— that there are things you do, with villains you capture. I understand that. I’m not trying to get out of that. Just… can you make it fast?”

Zera nodded. After-mission debriefs were always tough. Combine that with the interrogation that Poppet had coming, and Zera definitely understood the desire to get it over with quickly.

“Of course, yeah. I’ll make sure it’s as painless as possible.”

Poppet sighed in relief, suddenly looking very, very tired. “Thank you.”

---

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump @heart4brains @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

trust issues for bailey

With Bloody Outstretched Hands, Part 11

So this has been sitting in my inbox for forever, but I have finally written the thing! I hope the... somewhat excessive... length helps make up for the length of the wait!

CW: manipulative/abusive whumper, gaslighting, abusive relationship, boiling frog metaphor behavior, school shooting, mentioned police brutality, mentioned hate crimes. Let me know if I missed anything, or if you'd like to join the taglist.

Masterlist

---

Bailey looked down at their knees after Foxfire took away their finished plate from breakfast. No use putting this off any longer; they needed to start talking.

“I should, um, I should tell you how I ended up with Slipknot,” they said, fingers worrying at the blanket covering them. That was a good place to start; then they could give the heroes all the information they had on Slipknot’s organization and allies.

“If you’re comfortable telling us, we’re more than willing to listen,” Tempest said.

“But it can wait, if you’re not up for it yet,” Foxfire added.

Bailey’s mouth twisted at that. If they were going to wait until Bailey was comfortable and ready, they’d be here for the rest of Bailey’s natural lifespan. No. Bailey was just going to have to suck it up and do what they came here to do.

“I wanna start by saying that none of this is an excuse for what I’ve done,” Bailey said, still not looking up at the heroes. “I’m not trying to make myself the victim, because I’m not. I’ve done some… some bad things, and I’m not trying to downplay that.”

Icarus’s face came to mind, swollen and mangled to near unrecognizability. They winced.

“We understand,” Tempest said. “Thank you for coming to us; that can’t have been easy.”

Bailey shook their head. In some ways, it was the easiest thing they’d done, or at least the easiest decision to make. They just had to stop being such a selfish coward and do it.

“Um,” Bailey said, eloquent as ever. “This happened my first year of college. I’m from— well, you looked me up, so you know. But it’s a hell of a lot less tolerant than out here. My parents were supportive, but the rest of the town? Hell no. Hate crimes weren’t common, but I wouldn’t really call them uncommon either. I was out about my gender, but I kept the fact that I’m powered to myself. I was- was actually pretty scared of my powers, then. I had some nasty accidents before I got any sort of control.

Foxfire smiled sympathetically behind their mask. “That’s totally normal. We all had to learn how to use our powers.”

Tempest nodded in agreement.

Bailey squirmed a little, uncomfortable under the heroes’ gaze. They focused on their fingers twisting the blanket as they started to talk again.

“Well. I came out here for school, and I started going to the Pride and Gifted Centers. I figured that maybe the Gifted Center would have resources for, for learning better control? And they got me set up with a therapist to talk about it and start getting less scared of my powers. So I kept going back. I got to know some people, and made friends with a few.

“That’s where I met Slipknot, though I didn’t know it at the time. I knew them as Alias.”

---

“Ugh, the street preachers are out on the main block again today,” one of Bailey’s acquaintances said as they walked into the Gifted Center.

“Which ones?” asked another. “Are people going to hell because they’re queer or because they’ve got powers, this week?”

“Both,” came another voice from the entrance. They were older than the typical college kid, maybe early thirties, with an air of refinement and self-assurance. In their nice slacks and sweater, they looked out of place next to the somewhat dingy, extremely comfortable furniture of the Center. They smiled at the students, who smiled or nodded back before breaking off into smaller groups.

All except Bailey, who stayed to talk more with the new arrival.

“Hello,” the newcomer said. “I’m Alias.”

“Bailey,” they said, extending their hand to shake.

Alias’s smile got even broader.

---

“They said they were a grad student. Studying… hell, I don’t even remember what lie they told me about that. But it seemed like our schedules matched up oh so well, because we always managed to run into each other in the library or in passing.”

Bailey gave a derisive snort. “They had me all scoped out and I didn’t even realize it. God, I was so stupid.”

“That’s not quite fair,” Airmid said as she entered the room. “‘Naive’ might be a better term.”

“No one is exactly their smartest when they’re 18,” Tempest added wryly.

Bailey shrugged, not knowing what to do with this… this… was it pity? Why were the heroes being so nice?

“Anyway,” they said, trying to get back to their story. “Um. Well, we just kept meeting up in passing. And then we started planning to meet up, and it just… kept going from there. They helped me with my classes, listened to me ramble about the history of powereds and how we’ve been viewed by different cultures. We became friends, or at least that’s what I thought at the time.”

---

“...and Professor A was saying how witches in the historical context could have been powered, and just broke off to form their own society!” Bailey said, gesturing excitedly.

Alias gave them an indulgent smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Bailey said with a laugh. “He has us doing research on it. I’m looking into the history of so-called sympathetic magic and how it could be related back to powers that are known and categorized today.”

“Like voodoo dolls?” Alias asked.

Bailey nodded. “That’s one name for it, from the Hatian and Louisiana voodoo traditions, but I’m looking more into other forms of doll effigies. I’m a little too white meat for voodoo,” they said with a laugh.

Alias laughed too. “Always so conscientious about cultural contexts. I like that about you.”

Bailey ducked their head with a smile at their friend’s praise. “Um, anyway… yeah, I’m looking more into the English traditions of witchcraft, and how that traveled to America, mostly the Northeast. Salem and the like. There, the effigies for sympathetic magic weren’t called voodoo dolls. They were called poppets.”

“Poppet…” Alias said thoughtfully. “Small and cute, but powerful, too. Maybe I should start calling you that.”

---

“Eventually I was spending vacations with them instead of going home,” Bailey continued. “They were inviting me to their house, taking me out to resorts, introducing me to their friends… I felt so special, that someone like them had taken an interest in someone like me.”

Tempest nodded. “Love-bombing,” he said. “It’s a highly effective tactic for manipulation.”

“And then…” Bailey’s throat was too tight to force words through. They tried, but nothing came out. They swallowed hard.

Foxfire disappeared in a flash of blue, then walked back through the door with a bottle of water. “Here,” they said, handing it to Bailey.

Bailey took it with a grateful nod. Their hands shook as they opened the bottle and took a sip. They replaced the cap before they could spill it all over themself.

“And then, my parents died,” Bailey finally managed.

The heroes gave sympathetic nods and hums. None of them looked surprised. Of course; if they’d looked Bailey up, they knew about that, too.

Nothing Bailey had was private. It made sense that their grief wasn’t their own, either.

“I… I didn’t handle it well,” Bailey admitted. “I kind of fell apart. I don’t have any other family, no relatives that could help me with it all. And in the midst of it all, Alias stepped up. They helped me figure it out.”

---

“Poppet!” Alias called out from across the courtyard. “Where have you been? Are you alright?”

Bailey wiped at their eyes with the back of their hand. “Not now, Alias.”

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong?” Alias said as they got close enough to see Bailey’s blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes. “Why were you in the registrar’s office? Are you okay?”

Bailey opened their mouth to tell their friend to give them space. Instead, all that came out was a sob.

Alias gently led them to a bench nearby and held them as Bailey sobbed into their shoulder, soaking their shirt with tears. “What’s going on, little poppet? Please, let me help. Even if it’s just listening.”

In between sobs, Bailey managed to get out their story. How there had been an accident, a house fire, and neither of their parents had made it out. How Bailey now had to figure out what to do with their parents’ assets and house and will and just everything when they were a thousand miles away from their childhood home. How they didn’t know if they would be able to stay in college without their parents’ income to support them. How they just didn’t know what to do.

And Alias just held them as they cried. They kissed the top of Bailey’s head and promised to help make everything better.

And they did. They invited Bailey to move in with them so Bailey didn’t have to worry about continuing to pay for a dorm. They hired a lawyer to help deal with Bailey’s family’s affairs, and helped Bailey get the extensions they needed in their classes so they could get everything sorted. They helped Bailey look for and apply to scholarships to cover tuition costs.

Everything suddenly seemed more manageable, with Alias there to help.

---

“Over the next year and a half or so, I started seeing things and adding the pieces together. Or should I say, Alias let me see the clues,” Bailey said. “It all came to a head during the shooting.”

“When that bigot went after anyone with powers?” Foxfire asked.

Bailey nodded, mouth dry as they thought back to that day.

---

Bailey was in the Gifted Center, in one of the back rooms, when the screams started. Interspersed with them were loud pops that Bailey had only ever heard on TV before: gunshots.

They panicked. They’d known about school shootings, had even had a safety briefing on them in one of their freshmen orientation classes, but they’d never expected to actually be in one!

Think, think, think. What were they supposed to do? What was the little mantra that police officer had drilled into their heads?

Run, hide, fight.

Well, they couldn’t run. The room they were in didn’t have an exit. They’d have to go back through the rest of the Gifted Center to get outside, and that was where the noise was coming from.

Was it coming closer?

No, they couldn’t think about that right now. They didn’t have time to freeze; they had to figure out their next step.

The next step was hide. They could do that.

They pushed a small bookcase in front of the door, then turned the lights off in the room. They looked around for a good hiding spot. All they saw were the beanbags and squishy chairs where they’d curled up to read and study so often. The room was too open; there was nowhere for them to hide!

A hand gripped their arm, and a second one clamped over their mouth before they could scream.

“It’s just me, Bailey,” Alias’s voice said. “Come on, I can get us out of here.”

The rest of that afternoon was a bit of a blur. Bailey had to give a statement to the cops, who had seemingly taken their sweet time in getting there. The shooter had been taken into custody, but not before they’d left a string of casualties in their wake.

Alias came to pick Bailey up and bring them home. In the car, Bailey said, “You got me out.”

Alias just nodded.

“The doors were locked.”

Another nod.

“You took me through the wall.”

“You aren’t the only one with powers, little poppet,” Alias said.

“Intangibility,” Bailey said. “But isn’t that… isn’t that Slipknot’s power?”

Alias sighed. “There’s something that I need to tell you.”

---

“That’s when they told me they were Slipknot,” Bailey said. “And I knew they were a villain, but when they explained it, everything they said just made so much sense. They said they were fighting against…”

Bailey felt their cheeks prickle with heat. “Well, they said they were ‘fighting against the corrupt system that heroes help perpetuate’.”

Foxfire made a noise that somehow indicated both humor and dismay.

“Yeah,” Bailey said wryly. “Looking back on it, I feel so stupid. But back then, it just… made sense. They introduced me to the villains they worked with, and they all seemed to have such good reasons. They talked about how corrupt our society is, and how change isn’t brought about by asking nicely. A few of the ones that are known for being more violent said things like how societies don’t change unless you make them change. That they had to be willing to do things others wouldn’t, couldn’t, to get things done. And if I needed proof that something needed doing, then I could just look back at the shooting. Compare how that normie white boy got taken in without a scratch on him while powereds who hadn’t even committed a crime got killed and cops called it ‘self defense’.”

Bailey smiled humorlessly. “And I bought every bit of it.”

Even now, the reasons still made sense to them, was the worst part. Even knowing how much damage their former ‘team’ was actually doing, their justifications for it all still seemed legitimate. Because Bailey knew their history: nothing changed without some kind of catalyst. Many things that were illegal at the time are now looked on as the moral and just choice. The Underground Railroad hadn’t been legal. The Civil Rights Movement intentionally broke laws. Hell, the gay rights movement had started with a riot!

They shook their head to clear those thoughts. Now was not the time for that.

“Slipknot didn’t try to recruit me to work for them, at least not at first,” they continued. “I kept going to college for a while. But they offered to train me to use my powers. They… they said I didn’t have to worry about accidentally hurting them, given their own powers.”

---

“Okay,” Slipknot said. “Now show me what you’ve got.”

Bailey looked around the training room hesitantly. “Alias, I’m still not sure about this.”

“It’ll be fine, I promise, little poppet,” they said with a smile. “You can’t hit me, remember? Even if anything goes wrong, it’ll just pass right through me. And if all else fails, I have Healer on staff just in case.”

Bailey nodded and squared their shoulders. They surveyed the line of kettlebells laid out from lightest to heaviest. They reached for their powers.

Slowly, unsteadily, the five-pound weight rose into the air. It got to around waist height before Bailey lost their grip and had to double over panting.

Slipknot clapped their hands. “That was great, Bailey! Really great start. I know that was hard, but it’ll only get easier with practice. We can figure out a schedule for training around your classes and focus on your finesse as well as your upper limits.

“You’re going to be magnificent; I just know it.”

---

“Eventually, as I got less scared of my powers, they grew stronger,” Bailey said. “I ended up joining the villains for their group training, eventually. I started focusing less and less on my classes until it didn’t make sense to even go any more. I dropped out to join Slipknot as a villain.

“They gave me the name Poppet.”

At the time, it had felt sweet, like an inside joke they had that the rest of the world wasn’t in on. Now? It just felt like another thing Slipknot had ruined about them.

“This was two years ago?” Tempest asked.

Bailey nodded. “Yeah. Slipknot made a big deal out of it, too. They threw a party in my honor to welcome me to the team.”

---

“I can’t do this,” Bailey said, turning away from the door.

Slipknot caught them gently by the arm and turned them back towards the door. “Yes, you can. It’s going to be fine, little Poppet. Besides, everyone is waiting for you. Don’t you want to show off all my hard work?” they said teasingly.

Bailey was wearing a super suit for the first time. Slipknot had designed it for them. It was gray and red, with a mask that protected their identity, protection for all their major vital bits, and a plethora of pockets as well as a utility belt. It was striking and distinct from every other villain and hero in the area, and Bailey loved it. They loved how much thought and effort their friend had put into making it, to keeping Bailey safe both physically and identity-wise.

Bailey took a deep breath. They could do this.

They opened the door to riotous applause.

---

“It was just little stuff at first. Acting as lookout, adjusting cameras so there were bigger blindspots, that kind of thing. As I got better, got more trusted,” Bailey spat the word like it tasted bitter, “my jobs got bigger too. Pretty soon I was given small solo missions, and then taking part in even larger group operations.

“Training changed, too. It got harder, rougher. There were times I wasn’t allowed to use my hands, just my powers, to work on my fine control. In group training, there would be uneven splits of teams where I would have to defend against a lot of the others.

“It just kept snowballing, I guess. And by the time I realized that I was in way over my head, that this wasn’t what I wanted, I was too afraid to leave.”

---

The group was laughing, comparing scars and telling the stories behind them. Viper had just shown a big one down her back from being thrown through a window by a hero two states over, back when she worked solo.

“Don’t worry Poppet; you’ll have stories to share soon enough,” she said, patting them on the knee.

They ducked their head. On the one hand, it would be nice to be part of the easy comradery here, able to show off their scars and tell their stories like they actually belonged. On the other, though…

“The heroes really did all of that?” Bailey asked. “I thought they had, like… rules against that, or something.”

The villains all looked at them, then broke into laughter.

“Oh, Poppet, sometimes I forget how new you are to this,” Viper said.

“Sure they’ve got rules,” said another in the group. “According to what they tell the public, anyway.”

Other Villain smirked at Bailey. “All I can say is, don’t show them any weakness, and don’t get caught. With that kind of attitude? The heroes would chew you up and spit you out.”

Bailey looked to Slipknot in alarm. Slipknot nodded solemnly.

“We’re nothing but villains to them, little poppet,” Slipknot said. Their voice had none of the levity of the others. “We’re already the bad guys, so to them? Anything they do to us is justified. That’s why I’m always so careful with our exit plans. I don’t want any of you to get caught by them. I don’t want to lose any of you.”

---

“They said… they said you did terrible things,” Bailey admitted quietly. “They said that villains who get captured by heroes never make it to jail, or not any jail that normals go to anyway. They said any kind of weakness I showed, like being in pain, was just something you’d take advantage of. That you’d do whatever it took to get me to talk, to give you everything I knew about Slipknot and the team.”

“Bailey,” Foxfire started, sounding absolutely gutted. “We wouldn’t—”

“I know that now,” Bailey said, ducking their head so they didn’t have to see the expression that went with that tone. “But I didn’t then. Even once I figured out I didn’t actually want to be on the team, didn’t want to be doing everything they were, I was still too chickenshit to actually leave. I thought my options were either them finding me again, or you lot taking me in. Neither of those seemed like good options.”

“What changed your mind?” Tempest asked.

“The story recently, of the geomancer heroine and the ‘villain’ that could talk to animals,” Bailey said. “I figured that if Avery could get taken into custody and end up fighting with the heroes there, then you’d at least listen to me.”

“Thank you for trusting us,” Foxfire said.

Bailey’s mouth twisted wryly. This wasn’t trust. They couldn’t trust the heroes; they could barely trust themself at this point. This was just… picking the least bad option.

“This wasn’t your fault, you know,” Airmid said.

Bailey looked at her, puzzled. “What?”

“She’s right,” Tempest added. “Slipknot intentionally manipulated you. It sounds like they spent quite a bit of time and resources on the process, too.”

“It’s like the boiling frog thing,” Foxfire said. “If they’d just started out with the behavior they ended at, you’d never have gone along with it.”

Bailey shook their head. Foxfire was giving them too much credit. “I looked that up once, you know. About boiling a frog. Turns out the only way they stay in a pot of water as it heats up is if you lobotomize them first.”

They gave a snort of derisive laughter. “I guess that makes me dumber than a brain-dead frog, because I stayed.”

---

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @appleejuice @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-des-lore @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway, @whumpcreations, @wicked-whump @heart4brains, @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps

With much love to @whump-a-la-mode for these prompts that helped spark this entry!

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Text

Spineless

A drawing that will never be found:

The drawing is done on lined notebook paper with black ballpoint pen. It is of a human skeleton. The background is almost entirely black, heavily indented from the artist's pen strokes.

Something about the skeleton is strange, though. It takes a second look before it's apparent. There are no vertebrae in evidence.

It takes a third look before it's apparent that the background, the shading, is actually hand-written words.

"Coward" is probably the most numerous of the words. There's also "sorry," and "why," and "my fault".

But this drawing will never be found. It will never be seen by anyone other than its creator. It was torn from the notebook it originally resided in, then torn again and again until little more than ink-stained confetti remained. This mess was then flushed down the toilet.

Bailey had learned to be careful of what Slipknot might find.

#bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #with bloody outstretched hands #bailey's crappy headspace #bailey is an artist #this is bailey beating themself up after the whole thing w icarus #if that wasn't apparent

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Text

Bailey Poppet

(please ignore how the color isn't quite right in the gif)

The product of Bailey, a marker, and a photo of them from one of Slipknot's parties.

Taglist part 1:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway, @whumpcreations, @wicked-whump @heart4brains, @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps

#with bloody outstretched hands #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #digital art #my art #gif #digital portrait #digital illustration #something is off with my colors and i will have to go figure that out again i think #it might just be the gif though #i hope its just the gif #digital color display is DIFFICULT yall #art #whump art #sort of?#bailey's crappy headspace

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

Truth serum for Bailey. If you had to pick one of the heroes to put you down, who would you pick?

CW: discussion of death, semi-suicidal ideation (of the "thinking they deserve to die" variety), Bailey's crappy headspace

Bailey contemplates your question without looking disturbed at all. If anything, they look calmer than before you asked.

"Either Foxfire or Tempest," they say. "Ideally I'd pick Foxfire, because I know them the best. They're— They've never been brutal in our fights. I trust them to do it cleanly.

"But if they weren't comfortable with that, I wouldn't want them to have that on their conscience." They laugh, sound entirely devoid of humor. "The point is to stop hurting people, after all. I don't exactly want to put more guilt on a hero who's been— who cares about their job.

"In that case, I'd say Tempest. He's... I don't know much about him, really, but I know he cares about his team. About preventing as much collateral damage as possible. And he's more experienced at this, so I wouldn't feel as bad putting that weight on his shoulders."

They swallow hard, thinking about one of the only times they'd fought Tempest, and the scars they still had to show for it. Tempest... they didn't know if he'd be as quick about it as Foxfire probably would. He might want to get some payback on Icarus's behalf, after all.

"Weird hill to die on, but at least I'm dead, right?" they say with a grin that feels more like a grimace.

It might be painful, but at least then it would be over.

---

What Bailey cut themself off from saying: Foxfire is kind. They've been kind to Bailey. That's why they'd be the best choice.

#with bloody outstretched hands #asks answered #truth serum ask #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #zera the hero #zera aka foxfire #elijah the leader #elijah aka tempest #bailey's crappy headspace #minor suicidal ideation #death tw

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

=-=

Phoenix tilted her head a bit, she hadn't realize it was a important matter, but think about it the uncertainty might be scary in Poppet's situation.

"Let's started with the why, I brought you here because I was curious, you were there, dying alone, and I wanted to know why. I know now, so I'm not really curious anymore," Phoenix said nonchalantly, "And what I'm going to do... I don't really know, but since I brought you here I'll have to find out, right? figure out in what I can use you... Tell me, Poppet, what can you do?"

=-=

CW: panic attacks, Bailey's crappy headspace, minor suicidal ideation

Despair and fear welled up in Bailey as Phoenix spoke. They were wrong; she was just like Slipknot. Just another person wanting to use them. Bailey was tired of being a tool, a toy, an obedient dog. But if they weren't useful, what was the point of them?

Who would bother to keep something useless around?

Their breath hitched in their throat, which felt no larger than a straw. Why was it so hard to breathe?

This? Asking them what they were good for? This was a test, and they were going to fail. All the things they could do were things they didn't want to do. Images flashed through their mind: Slipknot training them on how to use a gun, how to throw a punch, how to dodge and block. Teaching them fine control of their powers—by making it so they couldn't use their hands, leaving their powers as their only option. The training sessions where Bailey learned to fight against unfair odds, and the ones where Bailey learned to fight through pain and not show weakness.

Images of Icarus, broken and bloody and begging from what they did to him.

"I don't—" they started, words catching in their throat. They were backing up, trying to get away from her. Trying to get away from this new villain who wanted to put them on a fucking leash.

Around them, everything was shaking. Of course; the last time they'd panicked around Phoenix, they'd been too weak and drained to use their powers. Now, with some food and sleep, they had enough reserves to draw on when they fucked up and let their powers get out of control.

"I- I can't, not again, please, I don't want to, please don't make me," they babbled, barely knowing if what they said made sense. "Please, please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone, I won't tell them anything, I just—"

They had backed up far enough that they hit the wall. They leaned against it, the movement turning into a slide down to the floor as their knees gave up on them. Traitors.

"You should have left me, why didn't you just leave me there!" they said, becoming more and more hysterical. "I'd either have died like I was supposed to, on the streets like a common fucking mongrel, or I'd have made it to the heroes and been arrested so I could be useful without hurting anyone!"

They sobbed, burying their face in their knees.

Either option would have been better than this.

@neverthelass @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @whumpsday

#crossover #au #ice and fire #with bloody outstretched hands #bailey and phoenix #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #phoenix #panic attack #panic attack tw #bailey's crappy headspace #conditioned whumpee #the idea that they have to be useful to be kept around is a combo of supervillain's influence and the capitalist hellscape of my country #wheeeeeee #supervillain is a manipulative bastard #i made myself cry writing this one #angst #minor suicidal ideation #thinking being dead would be better than current circumstances

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

Bailey and Phoenix 30

=-=

Phoenix listened to the villain's words, and took her time thinking about them.

She can't really relate —not that she needs to— but she had choices, and he chose to be a villain, and never once did she regret it. Much less someone forced her into this violent life.

She opened her mouth to ask 'So you rather be in the grips of heroes?' but she held herself back, the answer was obviously 'yes' and it's too far from Phoenix's mindset for her to really wrap her mind around it.

She thought for a half second —and a half second only— if she should let them go, let them be arrested or whatever else they wanted, but she doesn't let people go that easily, instead, she made a note that if the villain manages to go away she wouldn't hint them back. It was as much lenience in the matter as she could offer.

"I see that there are many things you don't want, Poppet; to hurt people, to be a villain, to be owned by someone. But tell me, if you can, what do you do want? If no longer a villain, what do you hope to become? I'm really curious, since you intended to turn yourself in, but yet don't seem to have given everything up."

=-=

CW: talk of suicidal behavior/thinking

Bailey had to think hard about what she asked. They hadn't considered it like that—all of their wants were really don't wants.

So what did they want?

They frowned and bit the inside of their cheek. The obvious one was impossible: they wanted their old life back. They wanted to go back to who they were before Slipknot, to being just some college kid with powers they didn't really understand. That was practically the same as a don't want, and not something they wanted to discuss with Phoenix.

"I want..." they started, then paused. "I want to make up for how much I've done wrong. That's why I want to turn myself in. It isn't— it isn't that I'm giving up on life, because I'm not."

They glanced up at Phoenix, who was staring back at them intensely. Bailey quickly looked down again. It was easier to say this without making eye contact.

"I want to give them all the information I have," Bailey said. "I want to give them the tools they need to help people. I don't know everything, Slipknot wasn't stupid enough to share all the details with me, but I do know some things that could help them. And right now, Slipknot won't expect an information leak, because they think I'm dead."

They try not to think about their former friend's words, how their voice was so even and calm as they commanded Bailey be thrown out with "the rest of the trash".

"I want to help people, not hurt them," they said. "That's all I ever wanted, really. I thought that's what I was doing, but... I was too stupid to see through Slipknot's lies. And the heroes knew that Slipknot was doing bad things, so it just makes sense to go to them, since obviously I can't be trusted to make the right decisions about this shit."

They frowned and sniffed, trying to keep from crying again. "And then they'll make sure I get the punishment I deserve."

Whether that was jail, or something more... personal, something the heroes decided to dish out themselves, it didn't matter. Maybe Icarus would remember what they'd done and respond in kind. Maybe the heroes would just put Bailey down, make sure they could never hurt anyone any more.

Whatever they decided, Bailey would cooperate. Bailey trusted the heroes' judgment more than their own, after all.

@neverthelass @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @whumpsday

#bailey and phoenix #with bloody outstretched hands #crossover #au #ice and fire #phoenix #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #bailey's crappy headspace #supervillain is a manipulative bastard #minor suicidal ideation #discussion of suicidal thoughts and behavior

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

Bailey and Phonix 29

=-=

"I apologize for my outburst," Poppet said. "I have no excuse for my actions, for losing control of my powers. Please punish me as you see fit."

Phoenix let out a soft sigh, not nearly an angry one and she hopes Poppet didn't take it as something too bad.

This was all... stressful. Part of the reason she choose the path of crime was to detach herself from complicated feelings, and complicate things like helping people; it wasn't a thing she was fit to.

"A reason, Poppet, is if you either deliberately attacked someone because you wanted to attack someone or try to run away from here. Feeling things isn't a reason, and using your powers isn't a reason."

She sat down on the chair near them, "I'm not Slipknot, so whatever rule or trained response they gave you doesn't work in here. My rules are quite simple: stay here and don't hurt people on purpose. You didn't leave, and you didn't hurt anyone, so I have no reason to be mad at you."

She sighed again, "I'll use my powers now, but I won't hurt you, I'm just letting you know."

Phoenix powered up, contrary to what Poppet expected there was no fire, only warmth, it wrapped them up gently. They never once thought Phoenix could be gentle. The feeling was familiar, and after a couple seconds they realized why; it felt like a hug.

"I'll stop if you want," Phoenix said nonchalantly, "Just say the word, I just am... really far from my expertise in this calming and comforting thing."

=-=

Slowly, almost without their permission, Bailey melted in the warmth of Phoenix's faux-embrace. The tension that terror had locked in their muscles slowly seeped out, leaving them exhausted.

Tears welled up in their eyes, and they hastily wiped at them with the heel of their hand. God, they were such a fucking mess. This was the... they didn't even know how many-eth time they'd cried in front of Phoenix in such a short span of time. Pathetic.

"I don't want to hurt people," they choked out. "I never wanted to hurt people. But that's what I'm good at, that's what I was fucking trained for like a, a dog on a leash. I don't, I don't want to do this any more."

They gave a laugh that was three-quarters sob.

"I don't want to be a villain any more."

But when had it ever mattered what they wanted?

@neverthelass @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @whumpsday

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

📔 Bailey

Bailey isn't really the type to keep a journal. The whole "write down your thoughts" thing just doesn't really appeal to them.

The closest they get to journaling is through their art. They don't have any actual sketchbooks because they don't think of themself as an "artist", and sketchbooks are very much an "artist" thing, but they have lined notebooks and stuff left over from college that they doodle in. They're not always coherent drawings; sometimes they're just scribbles, or abstract designs, or just drawing a spiral until it takes up the entire page. When they're down, the pages they fill tend to get very dark and filled up with lots of overlapping ink.

There were some doodles of marionettes on puppet strings, in the weeks leading up to them trying to escape. They very carefully pulled those out and destroyed them.

Slipknot can walk through walls, after all. A simple thing like a lock on a door isn't going to keep them from coming in and invading Bailey's privacy. Bailey doesn't trust anything to be safe and private any more.

#with bloody outstretched hands #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #asks answered #journal prompt #journal entry #they're a good artist #they just don't think of themself as that #but as previously stated #bailey has self esteem issues #bailey's crappy headspace

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

=-=

Phoenix sighed; she hates to repeat herself, "Nina is a thief," she started after taking a deep breath, "and a oportunist, she'll get everything on her reach and once she gets it's hard to take anything back, so unless you put boundaries now she'll take control of everything and you won't be able to claim it back. So yeah, say no to her, often even, it's better for you, believe me."

"Anyway, want to ask anything else? The time is now."

=-=

The idea of saying no to Nina felt like trying to shove a square peg in a round hole: it just didn't fit Bailey's worldview. They'd long since stopped saying no to anything Slipknot or their associates suggested, no matter how much they wanted to.

And as for anything else they might ask.... well. Phoenix told them to; she couldn't get mad at them asking questions.

Right?

Bailey licked their lips and swallowed hard before they summoned up enough courage to get the words out.

"Why... why am I here? What are you going to do with me?"

What are you going to do to me?

@neverthelass @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @whumpsday

#crossover #au #ice and fire #with bloody outstretched hands #bailey and phoenix #phoenix #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #bailey's crappy headspace #conditioned whumpee

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wolfeyedwitch · 1 year

Note

“ are you going to kill me? ” Pariah Prisoner Bailey?

Pariah Prisoner, Part 6

Also for @amonthofwhump's Winter Whumperland day 8: revenge whump.

Have some complicated Emotions and Feelings.

CW: medical setting (including mention of IVs), Bailey's crappy headspace. I think that's it, though that list seems suspiciously short... If I missed anything, please let me know!

Masterlist

---

Luke looked up from his tablet and glared at the figure on the bed. Of all the people on the team, why was he the one tasked with watching the villain who nearly killed him?

Stupid question. He knew why. Maeve was sleeping off the efforts of keeping Poppet alive. Zera was banned from anything until they’d had a meal and a minimum of 4 hours of sleep, given the dissociation and freak-out session they’d had in the medbay earlier. Iris was combing through the data on how they’d been intercepted and captured in the first place, and Elijah was tackling the small mountain of paperwork the shitshow had generated.

Luke, on the other hand, didn’t have anything pressing. The only injuries he’d gotten in their escape were some minor scrapes and cuts, nothing serious enough for Maeve to bother with, and he’d had his adrenaline crash nap already. So really, he wasn’t the best option so much as the only option.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

It didn’t make sense, was what bothered him the most. He’d had this mental image of who had attacked him. They were cold, impassive, ruthless. A sadist of the worst sort. They had no problem torturing him to the brink of death and leaving him to topple over that edge.

And then it turns out his attacker was Poppet. A villain with no prior history (that they knew of, he reminded himself) of violent actions. Who he now had interacted with, and he didn’t know what to think anymore.

Save your sympathy for someone worthy of it, they’d said. They hadn’t played on Zera’s soft heart or Elijah’s stubborn insistence on seeing the potential in everyone.

I’ll tell you everything I did so you can repeat it. They hadn’t denied that they’d hurt Luke. They even seemed genuine when they said they were sorry.

You were right about me. I’m just Slipknot’s little toy, their stupid attack dog. He didn’t remember those words, meaning he must have said them during whatever encounter led to…

To an otherwise sane, empathetic-seeming kid beating him nearly to death.

He couldn’t make that sequence of events make sense. He was still missing something, and it nagged at him like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

The only source for that missing information was Poppet themself. Meaning Luke would just have to wait.

---

The wait ended up being shorter than he expected. It was only a few hours into Luke’s guard duty bedside vigil that Poppet woke.

The signs were subtle at first. Their breathing, which had been regular and deep, hitched and stuttered. Their brows furrowed like they were in pain. Luke got up to double-check the IV drip.

Which meant that he had front-row seats to see Poppet open their eyes.

They looked like a startled horse, their eyes wide enough to show a ring of white all the way around the iris. Their gaze darted around the room before finally landing on the IV in their arm. Poppet’s breath caught in their throat before coming out as a quiet whimper. They reached for the IV.

“Hey, don’t,” Luke said sharply.

Poppet jumped. Apparently his presence hadn’t been important enough to register in their look around the room.

“Whe—” they croaked out before their voice gave up on them.

“Hero HQ, medbay,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Our medic went to the trouble of patching you up, so don’t even think about undoing her work. The IV stays in.”

He saw Poppet’s throat work as they swallowed, then nodded. “It worked?” they asked.

Luke snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Your plan? More or less. We got out, despite the issues there at the end.”

Poppet closed their eyes. Their face smoothed out as they took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Good. That’s- that’s good.”

Luke didn’t bother replying. He let the silence stretch out between them as he studied the villain. He was torn. Part of him, the bitter part that couldn’t see past what had happened to him, said this was an act. This was fake, a way to get someone into the Hero HQ as a spy. Poppet was just a convincing actor, and would stab all of them in the back the first chance they got.

The more rational part of him, the part that could admit he was hasty in attacking Poppet back in Slipknot’s cell, said that that was ridiculous. A dislocated shoulder might be one thing to convince the heroes, but that batshit escape plan that somehow worked? Getting stabbed? Those were something else entirely.

Poppet’s eyes flew open again, looking at Luke in a panic. “Are you okay? The others? Foxfire and Tempest?”

This villain had no damn right to look so earnest about their concern for his teammates!

“They’re fine,” Luke bit out, harsher than he really meant. Poppet flinched at his tone, and he sighed. Softer, he added, “Foxfire wore themself out carrying you back here. They’re resting. Tempest is doing paperwork for all this shit. No one besides you got anything more than scrapes and bruises in the escape.”

“Good,” Poppet said, finally breaking that too-intense eye contact. “That’s… I’m glad.”

They closed their eyes, face scrunching like they were in pain. Luke checked their IV again. Everything was fine.

Their next words were so quiet, he wouldn’t have heard them if he were any further away. “Are you going to kill me?”

Luke actually made himself dizzy with how fast his head snapped around to look at Poppet. “What.”

“I won’t fight you,” the villain said, voice barely audible. Their eyes were open now, but they wouldn’t look at him. They stared resolutely at the ceiling like they were trying to hold back tears. “Or I’ll try not to, anyway. I… I can’t guarantee I won’t use my telekinesis on instinct. But I’ll—”

“Stop,” Luke said.

Poppet’s mouth closed with an audible click. They squeezed their eyes shut.

Luke ran a hand over his face. What the fuck. What the actual, entire fuck.

Okay. He gets it, okay? He fucked up. He attacked them back in the cell, and said some things that weren’t exactly all rainbows and sunshine. But that was the heat of the moment, alright? He has a temper, and this whole… thing, is kind of a big trigger for it.

It was one thing to make threats (and… throw punches… yeah, he fucked up, he’s aware) in the heat of the moment. It’s an entirely different thing to talk about it so calmly and matter-of-fact.

“I’m not,” he started, then broke off with a groan of frustration. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t this be a simple situation with a simple bad guy that he could simply rage at?

Because life is rarely simple, came a mental voice that sounded suspiciously like Elijah, the even-tempered asshole.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said.

He expected Poppet to be relieved. Instead, they looked more upset after hearing that. They opened tear-filled eyes and stared back up at the ceiling, still refusing to look at him.

“Right,” said Poppet. Their voice was thick with emotion. “I still owe you that list.” A tear escaped and rolled down their face.

List? What list? When had they… mentioned…

I’ll tell you everything I did so you can repeat it.

Oh.

Fuck.

---

Dun dun dun!!!

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations, @wicked-whump @heart4brains, @myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff @whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey @emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

=-=

Phoenix solved the issue with Nina by giving her work to do —which was rare— maybe sometime outside would distract her from her obsession with Poppet, she had just told the injured —groaning— henchperson to wait in silence since Healer was busy when he called her.

It was fast. "I'll be right there," she said, before appearing in front of the door, not inside the madbay, maybe using the door normally would scare the villain less, even if it just felt like a useless waste of time.

"You can go," she said to the healer, who said something about avoiding giving Poppet another attack , as if she was doing it on purpose.

She looked down at the —already scared— person, Phoenix couldn't guess what was in their mind, and she wouldn't try to do so.

"I hope you are calmer now," Phoenix said once she was alone with Poppet, she tried not to sound too firm so her voice had an annoyed tone, "As I said before, I won't hurt you, so you don’t need to worry about it, instead, let's talk about what you want. Tell me how to make things more comfortable around here."

Because if you don’t I’ll just keep pressing triggers that I didn’t even know existed.

=-=

CW: fear of punishment, Bailey's crappy headspace

Bailey stared up at the ceiling as they heard Phoenix enter (through a door this time, even). They continued staring as they heard her talk with Healer and approach them. They didn't look at her as she started talking.

What they want. What a joke. No one cared what they want. Not Slipknot, not the other villains on their team, and certainly not Phoenix.

Besides. What they wanted wasn't something Phoenix could (or would) give them. They wanted to go back in time and never meet Slipknot in the first place. They wanted their parents back, their old life back. They wanted to have never gotten involved in the fight between heroes and villains.

And barring that, they wanted to leave. They wanted to go to the heroes they'd so often fought and throw themself on their mercy, however scant that mercy might be. They wanted to tell the heroes everything they knew about Slipknot and their team. They wanted to maybe, maybe, start evening out the scales on how much harm they'd caused.

They voiced none of this. They might be despondent, but they still had some self-preservation instincts still. Instead, what came out of their mouth was, "That isn't what you said."

"What?" Phoenix asked.

So maybe they didn't have too many self-preservation instincts after all. Fine. They'd started down this path, so they might as well keep going.

"Just now," Bailey said, "you said that you'd told me before that you wouldn't hurt me. But that isn't what you said. You said you wouldn't hurt me for no reason."

It was a rather critical distinction, after all.

One of their few remaining self-preservation instincts reared its head, reminding them of what they'd done to land in this position in the first place. They'd panicked, and they'd used their powers against Phoenix.

Fuck.

They stared up at the ceiling, ignored the tears making their vision swim, and swallowed the lump in their throat. If they wanted to get out of here, they needed to survive long enough for Nina to take them outside.

Which meant they had better make this good.

"I apologize for my outburst," Bailey said. Their voice sounded thick in their ears as they fell back on what Slipknot had taught them. "I have no excuse for my actions, for losing control of my powers. Please punish me as you see fit."

@neverthelass @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @whumpsday

#bailey and phoenix #crossover #au #ice and fire #with bloody outstretched hands #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #phoenix #bailey: i wanna leave but she isnt going to let me so im gonna not ask because thatll make her mad #fear of punishment #emotional whump #angst

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wolfeyedwitch · 1 year

Text

I posted 8,352 times in 2022

That's 5,811 more posts than 2021!

655 posts created (8%)

7,697 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kim-poce

@whumpsday

@wolfeyedwitch

@whumpwillow

@badluck990

I tagged 3,168 of my posts in 2022

#dp x dc - 486 posts

#danny phantom - 190 posts

#ask game - 156 posts

#bailey the villain - 143 posts

#with bloody outstretched hands - 143 posts

#to read - 133 posts

#bailey aka poppet - 101 posts

#whump prompts - 97 posts

#asks answered - 95 posts

#oc ask game - 92 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and the blade of marmora is more like a family and takes care of each other instead of letting members get captured and leaving them behind

My Top Posts in 2022:

With Bloody Outstretched Hands, Part 4

I thought I would get further into the plot than I did, but oh well. Have some Bailey being uncomfortable and confused while the heroes try to help them.

CW for minor medical stuff (starting an IV), medication, and Bailey's crappy headspace. Let me know if I missed anything, or if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

Masterlist

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

Bailey slowly managed to get their breathing under control. No matter how many healings they went through, they never got less intense.

They survived, though. They always survived. And they remembered to show their proper gratitude for the healing, too.

The healer double-checked their concussion, using a penlight to check pupillary reactions.

“Concussion is healed,” she said as Bailey blinked away the light’s afterimage. “Good news! You can have painkillers now.”

“Thank you,” Bailey said softly. Painkillers weren’t something to take for granted.

She came over with a tray loaded with equipment. Bailey swallowed hard. Tourniquet, alcohol swabs, medications, syringes, needles—what were they going to do to them?

The healer must have noticed Bailey staring, because she made eye contact with a soft smile. “I’m going to start an IV so we can get some fluids started, as well as giving you those pain medications. Okay?”

Bailey nodded quickly, cheeks prickling with embarrassment. There was no reason for them to be such a stupid little baby, are you going to start crying now? about this. The heroes were doing them a kindness. They needed to suck it up and deal with it.

They tried closing their eyes as the healer worked, but that made everything worse. The smell of disinfectant, the hum of the machinery, it was all too much like being back there. They opened their eyes. This wasn’t… wasn’t there. They got out; they were at Hero Headquarters now.

They got out.

The healer stayed focused on their arm as she asked, “Are you allergic to anything? Medications, foods?” She pulled the tourniquet tight and started feeling for a vein.

They blinked. “Uh… not that I know of?”

She nodded. “Good. Because you’ll need some antibiotics as well, just to make sure your back heals up properly.” She picked up a needle.

“Okay,” Bailey managed to croak out. They had to look away, but they could still feel the sharp sting as the needle pierced their arm and the strangeness as the tubing entered their vein.

“And… done!” the healer said. When Bailey looked over, she was taping the tubing to their arm and removing the tourniquet. “Bring me a bag of saline and an IV stand, please, and the—yup, that one!”

That was directed to the hero, who was walking over with the requested items. They looked… surprisingly concerned. Yes, it was the job of heroes to care about and save people, but surely that didn’t extend to villains, right? There was no reason for them to look so soft when looking at Bailey of all people.

“Thanks, Foxfire!” the healer said.

Foxfire looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “We’re using codenames?”

“Until our fearless leader says otherwise!” she cheerfully replied, undaunted by her colleague’s glower.

Bailey rather wished they could disappear right then. Whether it be through invisibility, mimicry, or teleportation like Foxfire could do, they weren’t picky. Of course the heroes knew each other’s civilian identities. They would obviously use their real names in their own base. And here was Bailey, a villain, in their midst. They were forcing the heroes to abandon their usual easy dynamic and instead guard their identities in what should be their safe place.

“Sorry,” they said, barely more than a whisper.

All that earned them was a strange, undecipherable look from both heroes.

The healer set the IV stand next to the bed Bailey was on and hung the bag of saline off it. She fiddled with a length of tubing, and then Bailey’s arm was chilled by the saline drip. She grabbed syringes and loaded them, presumably to inject into the IV. Bailey didn’t watch.

“So!” the healer said. “Next steps. We’re going to photograph your injuries, and I’m going to splint your leg. Then Foxfire is going to start on your back while I start the paperwork for all this. Any questions?”

Too many to count. And apparently the pain meds were kicking in and breaking down their brain-to-mouth barrier already, because they blurted out, “What paperwork? Why do you need to take pictures?”

See the full post

142 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

BBU and Pet Welfare

So to preface this, I love the BBU. It's a fantastic shared sandbox with tons of amazing ideas and some really fantastic stories. It's a look into what human greed and corruption can produce when left unchecked, when you start seeing people as commodities rather than as people.

That said. I do have one issue. And I didn't even come up with this myself; it was brought to my attention by my lovely SO. I was trying to explain what the BBU was to them, and all the abuses that the pets experience.

SO, who is a vet student: yeah, except pets don't work that way.

Me: ???

SO: there are animal rights and animal welfare groups going nuts about our animal pets. There would absolutely be pets' rights/welfare groups in that setting.

Which. Is absolutely sound logic, and also something that I had never considered before. Because we don't just let people do whatever they want with their pets. There are groups like the ASPCA and RSPCA that go in and get involved if pets are being abused or neglected. They will seize animals that aren't being properly treated.

So why wouldn't there be anything like that for Pets?

Looking at it from a Doylist perspective, it feels like the answer is "because that doesn't make for as good of whump". But what's the Watsonian answer? What's the in-universe reason why there aren't protections for Pets? I find it hard to believe that WRU would manage to squash all of the dissent; in fact, it could be good for their image to help Pet welfare groups (or at least look like they're helping them). It could make people believe that they really do care about the pets that they train.

Obviously, having Pet welfare groups wouldn't solve everything. It would get really murky with Romantics, because consent from a brainwashed pet is... dubious at best. But I have trouble seeing any reason why Pet welfare groups wouldn't step in for things like physical abuse, or 'dog' fighting rings.

Is there a reason already developed about this that I just have missed? Or is this an avenue that the BBU could expand in?

Tagging some BBU writers that I know have great worldbuilding: @maracujatangerine, @ashintheairlikesnow, @haro-whumps, @the-host-and-colton, @cubeswhump

144 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

With Bloody Outstretched Hands Masterlist

An injured villain makes their way to the heroes' headquarters to beg for protection.

No matter what the cost.

---

This is set in the same universe as my series "And Still", which you can find the masterlist for here. You don't have to read that first, but some of the events might be mentioned.

General content warning for Villain escaping an abusive situation/relationship. Specific warnings are on each piece.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Before the Beginning

Part 5

Bailey gets drunk

Bloody pulp

Part 6

Sadistic Choice (BTHB)

Part 7

Morning Reassurance

Part 8: Breakfast in Bed

Part 9: Breakfast in Bed 2

Part 10: Breakfast in Bed 3

Part 11: Trust Issues

"Same Time Tomorrow" (drabble)

Spineless (drabble)

Pariah Prisoner AU:

Pariah Prisoner (BTHB)

Trying Not To Cry (BTHB)

Reluctant Caretaker (BTHB)

"Hold On"/Soft Words of Reassurance

Stitches/Sloppy Bandages, Self Done First Aid (BTHB and Whumptober 2022 No. 11)

See the full post

208 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

Dp/dc thing I think u will appreciate: Danny just trying to Be Normal but he keeps getting summoned by cults and villains and shit. "I'm a kid, and it's two in the morning, go away!"

Said while he's wearing NASA pajamas, with glowing green eyes and an aura of complete menace.

Bonus points if the bats have been following the cult/whoever has been passing around their notes on Ghost King summoning around for a while and THIS is finally the time they get there in time to see just who has been summoned. Every previous time they got there and the entity had already disappeared/escaped.

303 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Found this chart! This is gonna be very useful for Bailey and the heroes in the not-too-distant future....

768 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i think its a little embarrassing that i reblogged myself as one of the major blogs i reblogged yikes

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wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Text

With Bloody Outstretched Hands, Part 4

I thought I would get further into the plot than I did, but oh well. Have some Bailey being uncomfortable and confused while the heroes try to help them.

CW for minor medical stuff (starting an IV), medication, and Bailey's crappy headspace. Let me know if I missed anything, or if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

Masterlist

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

Bailey slowly managed to get their breathing under control. No matter how many healings they went through, they never got less intense.

They survived, though. They always survived. And they remembered to show their proper gratitude for the healing, too.

The healer double-checked their concussion, using a penlight to check pupillary reactions.

“Concussion is healed,” she said as Bailey blinked away the light’s afterimage. “Good news! You can have painkillers now.”

“Thank you,” Bailey said softly. Painkillers weren’t something to take for granted.

She came over with a tray loaded with equipment. Bailey swallowed hard. Tourniquet, alcohol swabs, medications, syringes, needles—what were they going to do to them?

They got out.

The healer stayed focused on their arm as she asked, “Are you allergic to anything? Medications, foods?” She pulled the tourniquet tight and started feeling for a vein.

They blinked. “Uh… not that I know of?”

She nodded. “Good. Because you’ll need some antibiotics as well, just to make sure your back heals up properly.” She picked up a needle.

“Okay,” Bailey managed to croak out. They had to look away, but they could still feel the sharp sting as the needle pierced their arm and the strangeness as the tubing entered their vein.

“Thanks, Foxfire!” the healer said.

Foxfire looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “We’re using codenames?”

“Until our fearless leader says otherwise!” she cheerfully replied, undaunted by her colleague’s glower.

“Sorry,” they said, barely more than a whisper.

All that earned them was a strange, undecipherable look from both heroes.

The two heroes shared a look, which did nothing to calm Bailey down. They looked from Foxfire to the healer and back again, anxiety rising as they went long moments without answering.

“It’s for when we eventually arrest whoever did this to you,” Foxfire finally said.

Bailey almost laughed at that, but they still had enough self-preservation instincts to manage to keep that in.

“We need as much evidence as we can get,” the healer continued. “I’ll be writing down what all I healed; that’s what the paperwork is.”

Bailey just nodded. It wasn’t going to happen, but it was a nice idea. And the heroes had their protocols they had to follow. It would be stupid to tell them no.

Bailey squeezed their eyes shut against the flash of the cameras as the two heroes started photographing their injuries. They were quiet as they worked, only the occasional instruction—chin up, turn this here, lift that there—breaking the silence. The heroes were doing this to help, but it still felt like they were documenting a specimen they were about to dissect. Bailey felt small under their assessing gazes, like nothing more than an insect waiting to be pinned, numbered, and cataloged.

Finally, the healer nodded. “That’s enough for now. We’ll need to ask you about these injuries, and get pictures of your back once it’s cleaned, but that can all wait. I’m going to get the supplies for your leg.”

Foxfire perched awkwardly on a nearby stool as the healer walked off. They said, “You know we’re not mad at you, right?”

“What?” Bailey asked dumbly.

Foxfire gave a smile like a wince, their lips pressed together tightly. “We should have said that earlier. I’m sorry. That’s on us; it wasn’t our intention to scare you. We’re angry that this happened, not at you.”

Bailey blinked at them. The words were a puzzle that they couldn’t fit the pieces together. “But… why?”

Foxfire’s face went through a series of expressions that Bailey couldn’t follow. “Why do we care, since you’re a villain?”

Bailey nodded. Their head felt fuzzy, like it was packed with cotton balls. Nothing was making sense.

Foxfire smiled again. This time the expression was sad. “No one deserves to be hurt. Not even villains.”

They must have noticed Bailey’s blank incomprehension, because they added, “You don’t have to believe me. It’s okay. But I just wanted to make sure to say it. This isn’t your fault, and we aren’t angry at you.”

It would be a nice sentiment, if it were true.

Taglist:

#with bloody outstretched hands #maeve the medic #zera the hero #zera aka foxfire #bailey the villain #medical #IVs #medications #pain medications #internalized crappiness #bailey's crappy headspace

169 notes · View notes

wolfeyedwitch · 2 years

Note

🍳 for bailey?

With Bloody Outstretched Hands, Part 8

🍳 - Breakfast in bed

Airmid is Maeve's hero moniker. She's the Celtic goddess of healing.

CW for panic attacks and Bailey's crappy headspace.

Masterlist

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

“How do you like your eggs?” Tempest asked.

Bailey blinked stupidly at him. The question was just so jarringly normal. It didn’t fit, like a piece from an entirely different jigsaw puzzle than the one they were working on.

“Um,” they said, trying to bludgeon their brain into proper functioning. “Scrambled, please?”

He gave them a small smile and nodded. “Scrambled it is. Orange juice? Milk? Both?”

“Milk,” Bailey said. The last thing their unsettled stomach needed was something acidic like orange juice.

“Of course,” Tempest said. He pressed a button on his tablet, then spoke into it. “Foxfire, we’ve got another one for breakfast.”

“Oh, is Poppet up?” came Foxfire’s voice.

Tempest turned the tablet to face Bailey, who waved weakly at Foxfire on the screen. “They’re up,” he confirmed, turning the tablet back towards himself. “Scrambled eggs and toast, with a glass of milk, please. And some fruit, if there’s some that’s light on the stomach.”

“No raspberries, got it,” Foxfire said.

Bailey wrinkled their nose at the thought. Generally, they loved raspberries. Right now though, the tart, acidic fruit seemed like the worst possible idea.

“Post healing touchy stomach?” Foxfire asked.

Tempest looked Bailey over critically. “Post healing, or post trauma, or just side effects from the medication. I’m calling Airmid next to double check on them.”

Bailey shook their head, trying to hide how frantic they were. They hadn’t done anything to merit so much healing, they couldn’t take Airmid’s time like that! She’d already done enough and more than enough by healing their ribs and concussion!

“That’s really not necessary,” they said, voice not nearly as steady as they would have preferred. Could you blame them, though? They didn’t know how the heroes might want them to pay for the healer’s help, and they didn’t want to find out.

They hurt enough without adding anything else on top of it.

“And I’m still the queen of England,” Foxfire said over the tablet.

Tempest looked confused, but didn’t bother asking for clarification. Instead, he just focused on Bailey, giving them a long, appraising look.

“Poppet,” he said finally, “you are currently in our custody. We are responsible for you and your wellbeing. Part of that means ensuring that you have adequate medical care. Now, you are perfectly within your rights to refuse treatment. However, I think I speak for all of us when I say we would be far more comfortable if you would at least allow an examination, if nothing else.”

Bailey just blinked at them, trying to understand what all he had said. Their head felt like it was stuffed with steel wool; thinking took far too much effort.

Responsible for them and their wellbeing? Ensuring they had adequate medical care? They were upright (mostly) and talking (somewhat), and all their injuries were stable (they thought). Wasn’t that enough?

“Please?” asked Foxfire from the tablet. “Let us do our jobs.”

Well, if they put it that way…

“O… okay, I guess,” Bailey said hesitantly.

Tempest smiled at them, small and kind. “Thank you, Poppet. Foxfire, bring the food by as soon as it’s ready.”

“Yup.”

A little chirp signaled that Tempest had ended the call. He then tapped at the screen for a while, probably writing out a message to Airmid.

“Any symptoms other than nausea?” he asked, not looking up from the screen. “How would you rate your pain today?”

Other than the nausea? Vertigo, dry throat, that steel-wool-stuffed-skull feeling, and their brain refusing to move faster than first gear. “A little dizzy,” they admitted. “As for pain, I’m at a—” eight “—five.”

It wasn't just the injuries that hurt. Their joints ached. The usual dull ache, the feeling that their joints were full of sand, had intensified tenfold. Now their joints felt like they were full of gravel and shards of glass.

They weren't going to say that, though. There was no injury, no reason for them to feel this. It was just- just their own weakness. They would grit their teeth and tough it out.

They desperately wished they could soak in a hot bath, or cuddle a few dozen hot packs. Maybe, hopefully, the heroes would give them more pain meds.

Tempest looked skeptical, but didn’t comment. He just kept tapping at the screen and sent the message off with a little whoosh. “Okay, Airmid should be here soon. She’ll look you over and start working on a treatment plan. Then after breakfast, we can talk more about what brought you to us.”

Bailey nodded. They could practically feel the steel wool tumble around their skull at the movement. “Yes, sir.”

He looked at them for another long moment, and Bailey couldn’t help but wonder what they’d done wrong now. Finally, slowly, he said, “You don’t have to call me sir, Poppet. If it makes you more comfortable, you can, but we aren’t big on formality here. You can just call me Tempest.”

Bailey blinked at that. “Oh,” they said intelligently. “Okay…” They tried to leave it at that, or just say his moniker like he requested, but couldn’t bring themself to do it. They had to add, “...sir.”

Tempest gave a wry smile at that, and Bailey tried not to wince. “That’s fine,” he said. “Like I said, if it makes you more comfortable.”

Bailey sighed, exhaling the tension that had begun to knot their muscles. They nodded, cheeks prickling uncomfortably.

This was so stupid. He had said it was fine, said they weren’t formal, said Bailey didn’t need to talk like they were meeting their date’s dad for the first time. And what did Bailey do? Keep on talking like an intimidated kid trying to make a good impression.

Well. That wasn’t too far off, actually. They had met Tempest before, at least in passing, and were technically an adult, but sitting there they felt very small and young before his calm and collected front.

Airmid walked in shortly after that, saving Bailey any further embarrassment.

“Good morning, Poppet,” she said kindly.

“Good morning,” they parroted back.

“I hear you’re having some dizziness and nausea today?” she asked.

Bailey swallowed, distinctly uncomfortable. “Um. Yes.”

She hummed. “Well, some of that could be side effects from the pain medication. I’d like to do an exam before giving you any more.”

This was fine. It was fine. They knew better than to expect pain meds; that was a luxury they couldn’t count on.

“Okay,” was all they said.

What came next happened very fast.

Airmid stepped towards Bailey, right as a blue phosphorescence began to shimmer beside the bed they were on. Bailey didn’t get a chance to say a warning before Foxfire teleported into the room, hands full with food and drink. They saw Airmid approaching and took a step backwards, losing their balance.

And Bailey reached out on reflex, using their powers to steady the hero and set them back on their feet. It wasn’t until Foxfire was balanced again and all three heroes stared at Bailey that they realized what they’d done.

They’d raised their powers against a hero. Against Foxfire, who was being inexplicably kind to them. And now Bailey had used their powers against them.

They were so very fucked.

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

So... not the most comforting answer to a comfort ask ever, but I'm setting some things up. I had a grand total of 3 asks for breakfast in bed for Bailey, so I figured I'd stretch it out and add some plot and character development and such to the comfort.

We're getting there. I promise.

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus @pickleking8 @appleejuice @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct @sunflower1000 @fleur-des-lore @equestrianwritingsstuff, @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump @newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway, @whumpcreations, @wicked-whump @heart4brains, @myhusbandsasemni @lifeisexhausting892 @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrys-creates

#ask game #asks answered #comfort ask game #i didn't do so great at the comfort bit but i promise we're getting there #somewhere my SO is frowning at me and isn't sure why #with bloody outstretched hands #bailey the villain #bailey aka poppet #zera aka foxfire #zera the hero #elijah the leader #elijah aka tempest #maeve the medic #maeve aka airmid #breakfast in bed #panic attack #bailey's crappy headspace #chronic pain #bailey has chronic pain

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