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squishablesunbeam · 2 years

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The Palette Pt. 8: The Bath

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TW: bath time nudity, dehumanization, whumpee as an object, wound cleaning, scars

The palette swept its hands under the water, making little waves that lapped just under its chin. It was fully and completely warm, from the top of its head to the tips of its toes.

Master, or Mark, he's told the palette to call him Mark. Nothing about that felt right to the palette but it liked that way the name sounded.

"Mark," the palette whispered under its breath, its throat catching on the K. It smiled, dipping under the water until it almost reached its eyes. This master was so different than the palette's old master. The palette was trying to learn and adjust but none of the old routines and rules worked the same way as they did before. It was overwhelming and so confusing but, nice, in a way. This place felt, softer, somehow.

Mark had sat the palette down and explained that he wanted it to fully heal before he used the palette. It doesn't remember the last time it had been completely healed. Certainly before it came to be with its old master. Its flesh always held fresh cuts or deep bruises and it was always still able to be used. The palette didn't understand why it mattered, not when its back already had so many scars.

Master Mark explained that in order to heal quickly, he would need to put the palette in the bath. He talked the palette through every single step. It liked that very much. It might not be its old routine but at least there was some predictability to what was going to happen.

It listened very carefully to every word its master had said. The palette felt better about being cleaned if it knew the steps. Master had assured the palette that the bath wouldn't hurt very much but that he'd have to clean the cuts on its back and that might be more painful.

The palette had wanted to go back to its closet, to heal on its own like it was used to, but Master said that the bath was important.

So it did as it was told and, truly, the palette has never been so relieved to follow a direction before. Master, Mark, he wasn't trying to trick the palette. The water was so warm and the palette could barely stop its body from sinking down into its depths. It did hurt when its back first touched the water but the palette didn't think that meant its master had lied. He didn't know how much the palette's back hurt or that the water would sting so much that it stole it's breath away.

It was only for a minute. It felt better now. Nothing the palette couldn't handle.

The palette whooshed its hands under the water again and smiled. Master Mark had left the palette to soak while he went to get some kind of special soap. He must have meant turpentine. That was what you use to clean a palette. It let the anticipation of being cleaned roll through its body like tiny bits of electricity, all the way down to its fingertips.

It was okay.

If Master said it needed to be cleaned, there was nothing it could do.

The palette peeked out from the bath when it heard tapping sounds on the floor. One of the dogs was pattering into the bathroom, its huge body almost filling the doorway. It was the biggest one that its master owned. With long brown fur and big, floppy ears. It made the palette feel very small.

The palette pushed itself back as far into the corner of the bathtub as it could. None of the dogs had tried to bite the palette yet and Master said they were friendly. This one was so big though. He came right up to the edge of the tub, its breath hot on the palette's face.

Please don't hurt me.

A wet, rough tongue licked at the palette's shoulder and it flinched back, thumping loudly against the tub, splashing water against the sides. The palette squeezed it's eyes closed.

Be still. Be still.

"Hey! Bailey!"

The palette shot its eyes open at Master's sharp tone. But he wasn't mad at the palette. It didn't even think he was mad at the dog. Master gently pulled the big dog out of the bathroom, muttering for it to leave the palette alone and giving it a pat on the back.

The palette swallowed hard and sat up slowly, keeping its eyes firmly down. It knew it had made a lot of noise.

Master must have heard the palette.

Master just knelt down on the cold linoleum floor, grabbing up the little cup that was floating by the palette's feet.

"I'm sorry about Bailey. He wont hurt you. He's just curious. You can always tell him no."

The palette gasped. It would never! A palette never said no. It knew its place.

"Hey, it's okay. Did he scare you?"

It shook its head and curled its hands into tight fists under the water.

The palette suddenly felt like it was doing everything wrong. It was breaking all the rules. It had looked at its master. It had spoken to its master. It had made so much noise.

This wasn't right.

It was just a painter's palette.

It wanted to go back to the closet and let the darkness wipe away all the fear and confusion in this new place.

---

Something had happened. The look that came over the kid's face was different. He wasn't just confused anymore. He looked truly afraid.

Mark had barely gotten the boy fed and half bathed but maybe he was going too fast. The kid was hanging from the fucking ceiling, being used as a damn prop for some sadistic asshole, not 24 hours ago. He'd been sold. His entire life had been turned upside down.

This was going to take time.

Mark leaned to the side, trying to catch the boy's eye. He smiled softly when the kid actually let him.

"Hey there."

---

Why did the palette keep looking at Master?! Why did it feel safer in this place to go against everything it had ever been taught? It just wanted to please its master. It wanted to be kept. And this master seemed to like when the palette broke the rules. God, it was so confused. It wanted to be good.

The palette liked its master's smile. Mark's smile. It was warm and, hesitant sometimes, but never cruel. It never turned into the angry hardness that the palette thought must have been on its master's face back when he'd bought the palette.

Master smiled even wider when he caught the palette looking back at him. The palette felt its blood rush up to color its face and ducked its head down again. This wasn't right. But still, it couldn't help but smile back, just a little bit.

"You think we could wash your hair real quick?"

The palette wasn't sure how to go about that. It was only sometimes rinsed with water after it was scrubbed down with the turpentine and that was done with the freezing water from the hose.

The palette nodded its head and closed its eyes tight, waiting for the harsh spray of water to hit its face. It stiffened its shoulders when, instead, its head was gently tilted back and warm water was poured over its hair. Master held the palette right at the base of its neck. The palette's heart felt like it was going to leap right out of its chest. It leaned heavily into its master's hand and let him hold the palette in place. Exactly as he wanted it. That felt right.

Master Mark kept smoothing the palette's hair back, keeping the water out of its face. A cool, thick liquid was then squirted into its hair and Master massaged it in with his strong fingers.

The palette wanted to let its eyes roll into that back of its head with the sensation. It dropped its mouth open and felt its entire body just melt into the water.

Master laughed and the palette stiffened, jerked back up and opened its eyes.

"You're okay, sweetheart. Just relax," Master turned on the water and tapped the palette's forehead, encouraging it to lean back again. He poured clean, warm water through the palette's hair from the cup. Again and again.

It let itself be cleaned of all the filth it didn't even realize was covering its body. No wonder Master wanted to give it a bath. The water became a light brown and was soon whirling its way down the drain and replaced with more clean, clear water again.

The palette wasn't sure how long it was in the bath but it felt more clean than it ever though possible by the time Master was finished with it. He'd so gently washed the palette's back with the special soap. Not turpentine.

It's entire body felt like it was made of lead afterwards. It had prepared for so much pain, for Master's fingers to scrape and dig into the palette's broken skin to clean out the wounds. But it felt like nothing but a graze of its master's fingers and a dull ache. The palette leaned heavily against the coolness it found at the side of the tub.

Master pulled the plug to the tub and the palette absently watched the water twirl its way down the drain again. There was no paint staining the grate this time.

Its body felt too hot. Heavy and light at the same time. Master tapped the palette on the shoulder and it looked over to find he was holding a cup of water out to the palette.

"Take a drink before you get up. It'll keep you from getting too lightheaded."

How did Master know that the palette was getting dizzy? It licked its lips at the thought of the cool water and reached out for the cup. Master never fully let the cup go as the palette brought it to its lips and drank. It hummed happily as it drank down the entire cup. Master's hand was at the back of the palette's head again.

"More?"

It didn't even realize it had put it's hand over Master's hand that was holding the cup as it drank. It dropped its hand like it had been burned and lowered its eyes. The palette needed to be more careful. It had touched Master without being told.

So many rules were broken.

The hand at the back of its neck moved gently, Master's fingers pushing into the stiff muscles of the palette's neck.

"You're being really good. You've done nothing wrong, okay?"

The palette scrunched up its eyes. It had done everything wrong. Nothing made sense here.

"Are you ready to get up?"

The palette nodded once and Master's hands slipped under its arms and the palette was so easily lifted to its feet.

Its eyes opened again when a big, fluffy towel was wrapped around the palette's waist and another was pulled tight around its shoulders.

Its master's arm was a steady presence behind the palette and it couldn't help but lean against its master as they walked back to the warmth of the living room.

---

The boy was limp as an overcooked noodle. He laid him down on the couch and the kid went easily. He looked half asleep but it's eyes were open and waiting. He'd told him that after the bath, he would put some cream on the cuts on his back. The boy obviously did better with clear directions. It made sense. Mark didn't like not knowing what was expected of him either.

He sat down next to the boy's hip and put a hand at the center of his back.

"Okay, you ready for step two?"

The boy nodded but his hand curled into a tight fist and his entire body immediately started to shake.

"Hey?"

Mark leaned down, brushing the wet hair from the boy's forehead. He didn't feel too hot or clammy. His eye's weren't glassy but they were distant. He thought this was going to hurt.

There were no good options here. The wounds looked better after the bath but he couldn't let the kid go back to sleep without some ointment and a dose of antibiotics. Mark still had a bottle from when he broke his leg a year ago. He wasn't exactly the best patient himself.

The sooner he got this over with, the sooner the boy could rest.

He grabbed the cream and popped open the lid, one hand never leaving the boy's back. Mark could only hope that it was comforting.

He carefully moved the towel that was over his shoulders out of the way and took a closer look at the ruin that was the kid's back.

The scars were deep. One layered over the other, over and over again. Sinclair seemed to favor one side, the right side. He'd cut this kid from his shoulder down to his hip. Mark's fingers itched to soothe the hurt that was no longer there. Those scars were healed.

Mark shook himself and got to work on what he could heal. Every muscle in the boy's body was coiled tight and shaking under Mark's fingers. He dabbed the cream onto the wounds, as gently as was humanly possible. There were about 6 long cuts to tend to. All in various stages of healing. The one that was bleeding when he first saw the kid was the worst right now. It was a little puffy around the edges and warmer than the rest of them. It likely needed stitches at one point but it would be pointless now, the sides of the wound already trying to mend itself together, all on their own.

The boy never stopped shaking. He put a bandage on the few that should be covered and put the towel back in place. Slipping off the couch, Mark carded his fingers in to the kid's hair. He waited until his eyes flicked up once.

"We're all done."

He covered the boy's tight fist with his hand.

"Are you okay?"

He didn't say a word but he looked right at Mark then and actually held his gaze.

"I'm so sorry," Mark whispered, his heart breaking into pieces as a tear slipped out of the corner of the kid's eye and soaked into the cushion of the couch.

Taglist: @whumpsday, @hold-him-down, @maracujatangerine, @pigeonwhumps, @boxboysandotherwhump, @darkthingshappen, @octopus-reactivated, @whumpzone, @unicornscotty, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @keep-beach-city-werid, @whumpthisway, @pumpkin-spice-whump,

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump , @onlybadendings, @canislycaon24, @joeywhumpsitup, @thebirdsofgay, @mylifeisonthebookshelf

#the palette #bath time!#dehumanization #whumpee as an object #scars #wound cleaning #whump

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skylertheminish · 3 months

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Daft short story thing done for a laugh. Guess this is a misadventures of the smol knights or something (and I thought it was cute and wholesome)

Bath time!

"Who'd think Galar of all places could get so hot" I know Galar had its sub tropics but that was further south. Not in the Highlands! "I hate this heat".

"Ah wheesh wi' yer complaining" my colleague hissed. Equally fed up of my whinging as she was with the heat. " we were called to help the folk here with their research". It was a pleasant change for sure! Being called to help some scientists dig up some bones and artifacts instead of ... well other more grim jobs.

Still didn't make the heat any easier to deal with!

"I shall complain and to my heart's content if I so choose" I retorted jokingly. Truth is I was having a good time! Along with a change of scenery it was legitimately interesting to learn about how people and Pokemon lived way back when!

Speaking of Pokémon they seemed to be enjoying themselves. From just enjoying the uncharacteristically hot weather to helping us on the site. The team consisted of a mix of Pokémon from Excadrill, obviously to help with excavation amd moving rubble, to a selection of other ground and fighting types typically found in such projects. Machokes, Gurrdurr and so on. This time accompanied with my team.

Bandit the Gallade

Buddy the Bolthound

Corvknight

Cinderace and of course the two most helpful little knights.

After hours of digging it was finally lunch time. My colleague was quick off the mark to the kitchen. She must know something I didn't. One of the scientists tried to argue with her but soon learned she wasn't going to budge. " Know something I don't Kate?"

"Aye" she looked at me before glancing gesturing to the other with the ladel " and your stomach will thank me too! I've had her cooking before. It's diabolical"

Pulling up a seat I replied "come on it cannae be that bad. Can't be worse than mine".

Kate just looked at me "...think I'll go check on the Pokemon" and just as well as I caught sight of Ceruledge. She was absolutely caked in dirt! "Aye wee lass, come here! Bath time".

Hearing those two words would either be a blessing or a curse. She loved baths! But she equally liked to be .... Let's say difficult. Luckily she chose to come over beeping happily, giving a lovely muddy hug! "Argh! You just had to get me all dirty didn't you?" I teased, catching sight of her adopted brother jogging over "don't you worry you're getting washed too!".

Prepping a bowl of warm water and sponge. The small knight continued to get mud all over me while refusing to stay still. " Having a good time aren't ya? Awfully proud of what you've done aren't you?" My complaining was met with giggling as she squirmed and wriggled around. Splashing all who got close enough with warm soapy water. It was relief when she took interest in the sponge as it meant no more splashes of soapy water.

"And done! Off ya go and play now" I would soon regret saying this as she took off chirping happily with the sponge.

"you've unleashed a horror upon us" Kate tossed her two pence in. And right she was! For no one was safe. All were going to have a bath!

She ran up to Bandit who just looked at her getting soap all over him before running off to her next victim. "I've got ya bandit" a sigh escaping my lips as I walked over to rinse the soap off of him. This was my mess after all.

Ceruledge had set her sights on some of the scientists. Her cleaning them was met with mixed results, although most just seem to think it was cute.

Then she set her sights on me. And I was going to be a pest!

"I see you there! Looking at me. Is it my turn? My turn for a bath? Well then... You'll have to catch me first!" With a smile I took off with the small Ceruledge giving chase. "You shall never catch me! I shall remain dirty" I teased, searching for somewhere to hide. Once said hiding spot was found I hunkered down thinking this bush would be adequate, Not seeing that Armarouge was giving away my hiding spot.

Hearing her brother calling out. She ran as fast as she could to catch me. But I was too slippery! Managing to escape her and ran straight into Bandit who got hold of me. Unable to escape I met my soapy fate "Noooo! Curses! I've been caught".

"Better luck next time" Kate chuckled as she gave the curry a good stirring.

"Aye am gonna-pfft. Need it" I managed to spit out. Lifting the infant Ceruledge up after being freed from Bandit's grasp. " Happy now? Did you have fun?" She gave nothing but happy chirping and giggles, still trying her best to get soap all over me. " Sounds like you-pfftt! Peh! I do so like the taste of soap"

She just smiled, couldn't see it obviously but I could sense it. Clearly pleased with what she had done and honestly...

I wouldn't have her any other way.

#inane ramblings #awful writing is awful #Ceruledge #the smol knight #bath time!#armarouge #armarouge the smol #Bandit the Gallade #my inane writing

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