#boxboy whump | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

highwaywhump · 1 year

Text

Surgery, part 2

This is a series! Masterlist is here and the first part of the surgery arc is here

so i lied, i rewrote the second part and the whole thing is now closer to 4.5k. enjoy

TW/CW: former pet whumpee/extremely conditioned and dehumanized whumpee having a panic attack, being forcibly 'restrained' (by caretaker!) during said attack, and forcibly drugged with a needle/syringe. brief scar mention, blood mention, very brief description of a cut. discussion of professional misconduct i guess.

Aaron stops dead in his tracks in the doorway. At first, he can’t even see Joey - all he sees is Becca, the red-haired nurse who had helped them get Joey’s x-rays, handpicked by Dr. Perez. She’s clutching her arm, blood trickling out between her fingers. Next to her are two more nurses, both tall, broad men, unknown to Aaron. He can’t see Joey at first, all he can see are the three people, two too many, the red blood staining Becca’s scrubs, and a puddle of water and broken glass on the floor.

And all he can hear is Joey’s desperate sobs and Becca’s voice, trying to communicate something to the two other nurses, who are focused on something behind the bed.

Aaron doesn’t think, he just acts. In three steps he’s in front of the two nurses, blocking their path, and finally, there’s Joey. He’s all curled up and has tucked himself into the corner formed by the bed and the wall, his skinny arms wrapped around his head, his whole form shaking as he incoherently begs and pleads. Something about being good and behaving and please don’t drug him.

“We’ve got it,” one of the male nurses says and attempts to move past Aaron, but he holds up a hand, blocking them. “No,” he says with determination, knowing that a pair of huge and institutionally dressed men is the least thing Joey needs right now.

“No, I’ll take care of him. Help your colleague in the meantime,” he says, if only to stop the two of them closing in like predators. They’ve stances like rugby players, slightly bent at the knees and with their arms out to the side, ready to pounce. Even Aaron, who is perfectly healthy and capable of rational cognition right now, is a little intimidated by them.

“He should be sedated,” one of them says. “We need to administer pre-op medications,” the other chimes in, pointing to an IV bag laying on the bed, and the pieces fall into place in Aaron’s head. The broken glass of water, Becca who was supposed to be the one administering the medications but who now was bleeding from what looks like a gash in her arm, one of the male nurses who’d dashed past him in the hallway.

He could see it all playing out. Becca coming in with the IV bag, maybe saying something about medication, reaching for Joey’s arm with the needle in her hand. Joey, still holding his glass of water, already worked up and on edge, losing it at the sight of the needle. Defending himself, in his own hazy, red rimmed eyes.

And now, having worked himself up, not thinking rationally. Not thinking at all. Panicking because he had defied orders, or hurt someone, or broken a glass. It wasn’t good to say.

“I’ll-” Aaron pauses and breathes out, taking a step backwards from the nurses, towards Joey. “I’ll calm him down, okay? He needs someone he knows. Not…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, only moves his gaze between the two men.

They seem reluctant. They probably have a responsibility here, handling patients who act out. Only, Joey isn’t acting out. He is just scared, and a pet, and Aaron isn’t sure how much the men know about the situation. Or what they’re even thinking, taking all of Joey’s scars into consideration. It’s as if they’re peaking out everywhere now that he only wears the patient gown.

“He really needs sedation, for his own safety,” one nurse states. Aaron discerns the unspoken for our safety in his voice.

For a moment, he considers arguing. He doesn’t want to force anything on Joey that isn’t strictly necessary. Aaron is his advocate and breaching his trust like that while he’s in this state, forcing him to take a needle he clearly doesn’t want, would be traitorous.

Then again… he weighs the other outcome. Whatever these two nurses think is going on, he can’t let it extend past the patient is unwilling to comply, into the patient isn’t supposed to be here, patient is a pet, patient needs police pick-up. As well as the fact that he could never make Joey come back here after today, even if he managed to reschedule the surgery. It would be like taking a victim back to a crime scene, making them relive the trauma all over again.

Maybe sedation is for the best.

“Let me hold him, at least,” Aaron tries. “He can’t handle… this, right now. Give us a minute. I’ll help you.”

They hesitate, but back off, one of them turning to help Becca while the other stands by, looking warily at Joey. Still, he keeps his distance. Aaron exhales and turns around, crouching down in front of Joey. In front of his ward, his responsibility. Christ, everything here is his responsibility. Becca’s injury, too. Does this clinic have a pediatric program or some other heartwrenching project? He’ll donate.

“Joey?” he ventures, not sure if he can even hear him over his own cries. Okay. Deep breath.

“Joey, it’s me. Hey, little one.” He goes from crouch to kneel when his knees start protesting, moving as close to the boy as he can. Gently, he reaches out and touches Joey’s shoulder. He flinches violently and his sobs intensify. “Please don’t, please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll be still, please,” he whimpers, over and over again. Aaron hopes the nurses can’t make out the words.

He’s all curled up, tucked into himself as best as he can, trying to disappear. All the while, he’s sobbing and begging desperately, completely gone in his own head. Aaron realizes he can’t talk him down from this quickly enough tonight. They’re on a schedule, and the nurses are growing uneasy.

He’ll just have to take the plunge.

“It’s okay,” he mutters as he leans forward and envelops Joey’s bony frame and hugs him close, as tightly as he thinks he can handle. He is petrified, his whole body tight and stiff, and he lets out a scared and confused wail as he’s pulled into the tight embrace.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Aaron continues, both to himself and to Joey, as he finds the back of his head and tucks into the crook of his own neck, hoping to provide some semblance of warmth and safety for what he has to do next.

With his other hand he finds Joey’s, squeezing his fingers to see if he gets a response, if they might be able to communicate nonverbally like that. A squeeze means I’m here, I’m listening, trust me. When Joey is too shaken up to speak to him, he’s usually able to at least squeeze back.

Not now, though. Joey’s fingers are curled up into a hard little fist. Aaron sighs and hugs him tighter, mumbling apologies into his hair as he clasps his wrist and pulls it away from them, extending it towards the nurses. He watches through the corner of his eye as one of them removes a sterile cannula from its packet and takes hold of Joey’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Aaron mumbles as Joey whines when he feels the foreign touch. His face is still hidden in his sweater. He pushes even closer and Aaron can feel him trying to pull his hand back, out of his and the nurse’s grip. It catches him off guard - Joey has never, ever opposed anything Aaron has ever said or done. This is completely novel.

“Please don’t do it,” he sniffles into Aaron’s sweater. “Please don’t, don’t make me, I don’t want to, please,” he repeats, over and over, and it breaks Aaron’s heart, forcibly holding his hand away from his body like this, holding him still.

A part of him lights up with the thought that he still has some semblance of volition. Everything wasn’t beaten out of him. At the same time, right now, Aaron has to disregard it. He has to hold him still and force him to endure it as the nurse feels around for a vein. “Small pinch, now,” he says, as he pushes the cannula through his skin.

This is all Aaron’s fault. If he hadn’t left the room, if he had been there when Becca came in, they could’ve worked it out together, undramatically. This whole episode could’ve been avoided. Surely, all traces of trust between them must be gone by now.

Joey moans, in pain or desperation or maybe both, as the nurse attaches the tubing and picks up the saline bag, hanging it on its stand. He collapses in Aaron’s arms. Still, Aaron doesn’t let go, keeping him close. “You’re okay, it’s okay,” he repeats, over and over again, hoping some of it reaches past the walls built up inside Joey’s mind. The nurse picks up a syringe and pushes its contents into the injection port of the IV tube. Then, he, Becca, and the other nurse leave the room.

They sit like that for what feels like an eternity. Joey calms down after a while, now leaning heavily into Aaron. His shoulders flinch from time to time, but he’s stopped crying quite as audibly as he did.

Aaron guesses this is the result of the sedation. It was normal, right? Giving a weak sedative before a surgery, just to calm any nerves? Had Becca brought in the sedatives as well as the IV bag or had the male nurses brought it when they heard the commotion? He wonders how much the two of them know. None of them were supposed to be here, he thinks. What did they think had happened? Who did they think Joey was?

He glances to the side, where he still holds Joey’s wrist. Gently, he angles it - and there it is, the ugly barcode tattoo. His blood runs cold. He didn’t think that far when he took Joey’s wrist to hold it out for the nurses. Did they see it? If they did, had they cleaned up Becca’s sliced up arm and then gone to call the police after?

He’s left no time to ponder or worry any longer as the door opens and Dr. Perez enters. She seems unfazed by the sight that meets her - blood and crushed glass that hadn’t been cleaned up yet, and the two of them sitting in a corner. Somebody must’ve informed her.

“Are you okay?” She rounds the bed and crouches down in front of them. “Becca told me what happened.

“I think so,” Aaron answers, gently shifting Joey to get a look of his face. He’s drowsy and heavy in his arms, his eyes puffy and red rimmed as he blinks them open and tries to focus. Aaron smiles at him. “Hey, you,” he mutters softly, pushing his hair away from his face.

“I hope he’s still up for the surgery,” Dr. Perez says, eyeing the IV bag to see how much of the liquid inside has been reduced. “What happened was… I won’t say normal, but it’s not unusual. We never know how they might react to what we do to them.”

Aaron nods. “Is Becca okay?”

“She is. It looked worse than it was.” She looks over her shoulder, where the glass and blood still hasn’t been cleaned up. “Don’t worry. She knows that what she does for a living isn’t risk-free. And she knows that we don’t know what kind of trauma our patients carry with them. It’s nobody’s fault. Least of all his.”

“I have to ask… do the other nurses know? The other two who were here.”

She looks down. “They know about my situation, what I do. They don’t know about him, per say. They’ll probably make the connection, but I don’t think it will be a problem.”

Aaron’s eyebrows knit together, still not convinced. “How can you be sure?”

She exhales in a puff, a slight chuckle, even. “Everyone in this industry knows somebody who knows somebody who does this sort of thing.” Illegal surgeries. The words are unspoken, but still clear as day. “I am far from the only one, believe me. If they didn’t like it, they would have quit and reported me a long time ago. And then they’d start working at the next hospital and have to do the same thing. There’s always someone.” She gives him a minute, knowing smile. “This country would run out of healthcare workers if they revoked every license from one who has treated a pet or ex-pet.”

Aaron doesn’t quite know what to say. He’s relieved “So… we’re good?” he asks eventually, for lack of better words.

Dr. Perez nods. “We’re good. Now, let’s get going before the anaesthesiologist gets tired of waiting.”

She helps him support Joey up to his feet and then to sit down on the bed. He’s swaying, gripping at the bedsheets to keep his balance, so Aaron gently guides him to lay down instead. He’s completely still, only breathing. His eyes are large and round as he finds Aaron hand, holding onto it with startling solidity.

“Was… was I bad?” he whispers shakily.

“No,” Aaron says immediately, not leaving it up for discussion. He doesn’t know what Joey knows, what he remembers of what had happened. Still, he won’t let Joey go around with doubts in his mind.

His other hand finds Joey’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. He leans into it, still keeping that intense eye contact. “No, sweetheart,” Aaron says, softer. “You weren’t bad. You were just scared.” In his head he adds It was my fault, I’m sorry, thinking the statement might be too much for him to make sense of now, in his delirious, drugged state.

Joey dips his head slightly in what might be a nod. Aaron tries to smile at him. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get that leg fixed up.”

tags <3

@simplygrimly @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @briars7 @hackles-up @doveotions @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @kixngiggles @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpthisway @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumping-snail @pumpkin-spice-whump @pigeonwhumps

54 notes · View notes

whereallthewhumpgoes · 7 months

Text

Pet Recovery Counter-Conditioning Phrases

"I am my own person. I am allowed to prioritize my own needs and assert my own boundaries."

"I belong to myself and only myself."

"I deserve to be loved by others, touched gently, and treated with compassion."

(Romantic specific) "My body is mine. No one is allowed to do anything to my body against my will."

"I am a human being, and I am entitled to human rights, such as food, water, and sleep. My needs are not a privilege that I have to earn, they are human rights, and I will fulfill them when necessary."

"I can think for myself and take care of myself."

"I am a human being, not a slave. I am under no obligation to obey anyone's command."

"What happened to me was unjust. I did not deserve to be abused by my former master, and I will not tolerate abuse from them or anyone else."

"I am a good person."

"I have a right to be treated with dignity."

"I am not worthless. I have value apart from my master's attention."

(Romantic specific) "I am allowed to say no."

(Guard dog specific) "I am not a monster. In the past, I acted to protect myself, and I will continue to protect myself with or without my master."

"My rescuers are not a threat. My rescuers do not want to hurt me. My rescuers are safe people."

"If I am ever mistreated, I will report it to my rescuers as soon as possible."

"I do not need to lie to protect myself."

"I am allowed to love myself."

"I am encouraged to form relationships with the other recovered pets, and they will not be hurt if I interact with them."

(Bonded pair specific) "I do not need to protect my bond. I do not need to depend on my bond. My bond and I are our own people, and I am allowed to develop my own interests and take care of myself before my bond."

"I am a person, not a pet."

#i saw that one conditioned boxboy phrases lore post and it gave me some ideasies #conditioned whumpee #pet whump #box boy universe #box boy whump #recovery whump #implied past noncon #very very vaguely #i mean some of the deconditioning phrases are romantic specific and there are Things that happen to romantics in the lore so #implied past torture #implied past abuse

248 notes · View notes

whumpinthepot · 5 days

Text

Whump prompt

Stalker obsessed with person A turns themself in to become a boxboy and be delivered to person A so that stalker can be owned by them and loved forever

#whump prompt #breezys post #whump #boxboy #bbu #stalker tw #whumper turned whumpee #caretaker #if someone writes this or has written it pls tag meeee #pet whump

27 notes · View notes

flynnswhumpprompts · 1 year

Text

Guys

Guys, guys- NGL I wanna make my own box boy after reading a bunch on them. Gimmie name ideas and we may end up with many boxboys.

#boxboy #whump blog #non writing #No whump just questions #give me names

15 notes · View notes

bbyblueetypes · 1 year

Text

Super Hero- Welcome to the Mind Fuck pt 1

this is my first whump story so bare with me. These are @gatheringofsuffering s and I’s ocs. i enjoyed this plot so i decided to write a story with it.

CW: [implied] Whump, Mind control whump, wounds/head wound, panicking, super power whump, blood

There has been nothing but silence from the other end. Typically you'd think that'd be a good thing, a weight lifted off the shoulders of all of us. But of fucking course, its not ever that easy. It'd be different if they were fucking dead. But they're not.. they're hiding.. planning. Planning for something we need to constantly keep our guard up for. Cain said he doesn't know.. our best guess we could come up with is a fucking ambush. How pathetic. Our patrols have gotten longer, our security better. But somehow it never seems to stop the creeping feeling they'll find a way. A way to us.. a way to him. They want him dead. And as much as i would have gladly killed him myself months before.. now i'm not sure. And it makes my fucking brain hurt. Everything hurts.. when he looks at me.. when he sneaks into my room at night because he's afraid.. when he grabs my hand.. leeches onto my body and follows me around like a puppy.. when we kiss. God.. fuck.. he ruins my reputation. He ruins a lot of me. Yet of course here we are standing in the empty, dusty, junk filled abandoned buildings on our 14th patrol of the day waiting for the other to speak. Waiting for the enemy to swoop in finally and save us from this awkward fucking silence shit he does. Cmon Zay.. don't let this small soul eater kick you off your game. Of anything that could? I refuse it to be him.

“Offly quiet”

I speak up finally, voice echoing slightly through the empty rooms. One of us had to. He doesn't even look at me when I do. Simply continues his pace around the room, the sounds of the soles of his shoes scuffing against the dirty concrete beneath him.

“..you know i don't like speaking when they could be around.. don't want to see them”

His voice is soft.. quiet. As though he's afraid of them hearing and coming for him. Quite frankly he should be. But who was I to instill a constant fear like that into him? And how fucking boring would that be as well. So I lied.

“Chances seem slim.. but know you don't”

“And.. it'll be fine if they are because it's not just me.. and they cant control me”

He speaks as though he's trying to convince himself. I watch his face as he proceeds to scan the room, the random garbage leftover from hiders, the caving roof and the torn wallpaper. I can only nod for a moment

“Exactly.. we won't let that happen to you, well help you”

He only nods at my poor attempt at comforting. However his small smile he can't contain makes me think it actually helped. That's a first. But unfortunately for him and the rest of us I can't keep that shit up. So back to what I know best. I finally tear my eyes away from him as I proceed to scan the room's flooring as well.

“So get to chatting.. too damn quiet without your mouth”

“Awe miss me that much? I thought you hated me”

Little shit. Don't ever think I'm helping your puppy dog face again.

“Okay you can shut it now”

That only earns me a faint giggle from him and suddenly I feel lighter. If you can't fix it.. distract it.

“We both know that's not what you want me to do”

I can't help but roll my eyes at his comments.. he was always so witty . He's almost the only other person besides Z to ever match my wit. Sometimes I think that's part of why the hatred couldn't last.

“Debatable now”

“Yea? What changed Zay?”

It's the first time he even looked in my direction since we got here, and i can't help but turn to meet my eyes with his. He’s like a fucking drug. Sucking you in constantly with one glance.

“You became an ass like always”

He doesn't skip a beat. I smirk as he replies cocky as ever.

“I'm not an ass pretty boy and you know it..”

Pretty boy?

“..I've been wayyyy worse”

He has.

“Oh so nicknames now?”

He shrugs at me with his sly little smirk. He knows what he's doing.. he always does. No one’s here.. zees gone.. empty building.. just us.. fuck- no. I can't do this, Zees taking him next time. He finally pulls his eyes away from me and to the room around him once more, making his way from one to the next. I follow him.. pretending to watch anything but him.

“Nothings here.. whole place is empty and shit”

“Won't be complaining when there is something to do”

I chuckle at his ignorance. There's one thing you learn not to do in hero work.. Speak too soon and jinx yourself. And he only proceeds to get worse.

“Aren't we supposed to be finding something?”

He giggles at himself, almost as though i was stupid for suggesting such a thing. If the gods were with him today, everything would stay as quiet as it is right now. But I won't let him know my worries in the danger of his words.

“I mean.. If we find something that's a plus i guess”

“Soooo just search an empty building?”

He walks slowly, one step in front of the other delicately across the concrete floor as he speaks. I watch every step he takes, for someone so smart.. He's so naïve. I can't help but smirk a bit as I shrug my shoulders slightly, focusing my attention back onto the random items on the old dusty shelves and torn, aged curtains.

“Shit Z says.. has to be done. We make sure there's no sign of assholes hiding out.. No sign of them being here. As long as there's nothing of importance that's all we care about. Get in, get out.”

He proceeds to find me amusing, chuckling his soft chuckle again echoing throughout the room.

“Like chores.. But for buildings”

“Exactly.. Thank zee for being that mom”

Keep it lighthearted, keep the joking going. That's all you can do to keep it calm.. And keep the boredom of the task from killing you from the inside out. I turn my attention back to him when I hear his soft voice speak close to my ear.

“Rooms clear”

He speaks soft into my ear. How he got so close is beyond me. I barely even heard him move.

“Just junk and shit here”

He proceeds to speak while I'm still trying to figure out how he so casually moved across the room like a fucking mouse, no scratch that a mouse would've made more noise then he did. Once i give up trying to comprehend his quite movements, I finally speak.

“Yes sir.. Onto the next then?”

He opens his mouth as though to speak once more, only to be stopped by a familiar sounding voice across the room.. Too familiar.. A voice we dread hearing every single time. Her heeled boots followed.. Tap.. tap.. tap .. across the concrete flooring as she spoke. I immediately turn in her direction, casually shielding Cain with my body as I do so.

“Junk? Haven't you heard, One man's trash is another's treasure?”

I couldn't feel Cain.. But I certainly saw it in his face. He was tense. Stressed. It happens every single time she's nearby. He's afraid of her. His own mother. Not biologically of course. But the one that raised him his entire life, when no one else wanted him. When he was alone and everyone was fucking scared of his power. Just like everyone was scared of mine. As much as i hated to admit it.. We weren't really that different.. He was like Z.. like me.. We were all feared.. all left. We were all framed to be something we weren't. But alas here we all were.. Together.. Being heroes and shit.

“W-why are you here..?”

He stutters despite his efforts.

“Just walking the town, noticed you two seemed lost”

“Lying ass”

I mumbled slightly, That comment was meant to stay in my head. Luckily, he speaks before she can pick up my snarky comment.

“Were not lost, so go back to your walk or whatever”

Her eyebrows raise, he's never been one to talk back. Especially to her. Zee would say he’s been spending to much time with me, maybe that’s true.. but fuck.. come on its pretty fucking hot right? Just me?

“Why.. haven't you gotten snarky little one? Shouldn't speak that way to your mother..”

“..can say whatever I want”

Alright.. so maybe we're treading on dangerous ropes with his attitude. But Who am I to interrupt a family reunion?

“Id watch yourself before you get someone hurt”

“..why you're here, isn't it?”

She only smirks, turning her attention to me once again with her sharp gaze. I could almost make out a glare in her eyes as she looked me up and down. She despised me, maybe even blamed me for Cain's attitude.. For his absence in her life. She wouldn't be too far off if she had. Finally the wicked witch speaks up.

“I don’t think we’ve formally met.. Zayden right?”

Well..

“No”

I glanced momentarily at Cain.. I didn't need to watch him long to see his confusion. His stress begin to grow. I know I'm fucked. He knows it too. It's exactly what happened to him.. Probably more than I know. She only smirks at my response though something gives me the feeling she doesn't find me very funny.

“Don't lie to me Zayden, Cain already gave you in. didn't you, little one?”

He- no no he wouldn't do that she's just a fucking liar. Suddenly there's a pounding in my head. Small at first.. I focus on it. I focus and I- I feel it getting bigger. When did it get there? Has it always been there? I can hear them talking. What are they saying?

“I-i did? What are you talking about?”

Its him.. He sounds so far away.. Why can't I answer him? This pounding- holy fuck.. Is this what she feels like? Suddenly I hear my name and i try to put aside the pounding for a moment.

“Zayden, why don't you come with me? Clearly he's not very careful with you, hm? Clearly he doesn't care whether what he says hurts you or not.”

Why the hell would he do this to me? My body doesn't feel like mine.. As much as I don't want to, I can't help myself but obey. My feet move themselves in her direction and I watch her smile widen. She's happy? She's happy to have me.. No ones happy to have me. Just as my feet start moving I feel his gentle hand grasp my arm. What is he doing? As I look in his direction I am only met with desperation on his face.. He's panicking.. Why is he so panicked, I'm okay I'm doing as I'm told? He should know better than anyone..

“Zayden.. . stop..”

His voice.. His voice cracks just slightly, filled with nothing but desperation to match his expression. I can't..

“Zayden, here. Now. don't let him treat you like that anymore.”

Her voice speaks from my left.. Let go of me please.. I need to get to her.. I pull my arm away from his loose grasp. If he really wanted me to stay he would have held me harder anyway.. It's an act, it's all an act. She might just be right.

“Zayden please snap out of it please..”

I see him press our panic button, right on the sleeve of his suit. I can see the slight blinking of green light up my right wrist. He wants zee. Why doesn't he trust me? I can fix this without her. I'm just as fucking good as she is! Every part of my body is screaming for me to rip my fucking head apart, find the source of the pounding and make it stop. Make this fucking pounding stop! I can hear her giggling in the back. Move. i cant fucking move. Just move.

“You should know better than anyone little one, he doesn't stop until I say so.”

“Let him go.. You-you can't just do this..”

Oh my fucking god she's not doing anything! I'm doing good!

“Oh but I can.. And I am. Your actions have consequences little one.. I raised you better”

“Just let him go.. He didn't do shit!”

He sounds so pathetic begging for someone who doesn't need saving. She thinks so. I think so.

“Zayden.. Please calm him down for me? Tie him up.”

One command. One simple ask of me is all i need for the nerves in my body to light up once again. I feel my body moving before i can even think. I find myself moving toward him and reaching out my arms for his. I grabbed them harder than I should, but I needed him to stay.. Not like he held mine. Easy to pry away from. Easy to leave. He didn't try. Not like me. He tried to back away// i see his feet practically stumbling over themselves.. Why doesn't he want me now?

“Get off.. Don't- don't touch me.”

Why?! I can't speak. Its to fucking much. He doesn't want me to touch him? fine. I watch myself shove him back. And back. And back. Until he falls back into a nearby chair.

“God he's so much easier then you are little one”

She's not talking to me.. But the praise is still there. She wants me. I am better. I am not secondary. I hear the slight whimper in his voice as start to tie his arms to the chair, when did i get this rope? Where did it come from? I can't stop. His whimpering hurts. But I can't stop.

“Stop it, let go! Stop controlling him please Rowan..”

“I'm not done yet”

I'm not being- no no I'm not.. I'm fighting it. I know the rope is tight little hero.. Just let me.. Let me.

“Please.. Please don't do this..”

He's pleading, he's pleading not to her but to me.. But I can barely think about it, it's only a small thought in the back of my mind as I feel myself proceed to crouch down onto my knees and tie his ankles in just the same way as his wrists. I need him to stay.

“Quit struggling. Wouldn't want him to have to break something, would we now? Look at him I'm sure he could do some real damage couldn't he”

I feel him stop at her words. He stopped pulling. He stopped fighting me. He still listens to her, just like he always used to. Just like he used to follow her around as her personal little heal toy. Yet somehow he's concerned about me? It's pathetic truly.. The way he betrayed her.. Who's to say he wouldn't do it to Zee.. to me..? He’d fuck us all and he wouldn't even think twice. I don't remember walking.. All I remember is being back next to her. At her side watching as the frown on his face only grew the more he stared at me. I could barely even feel the feeling of her fingers combing through my dark mess of hair as she ruffled it.

“Look at him.. Such a good boy isn't he Cain?”

“Please let him go rowan.. Please..”

She was praising me.. She was proud of what i had done.. Was he ever proud of me? I don't feel like me.. I don't feel like the me he would be proud of. She only chuckled in his response.

“What? Maybe ill keep him for a bit. Maybe he doesn't want you anymore, why would he? You'd betray him just like you betrayed your own family.”

“Y-you're controlling him.. I'm not stupid he-he wouldn't do that..”

His voice cracks. P a t h e t i c. p a t h e t i c. p a t h e t i c.

“Oh really?” she smirked as she spoke “and what makes you so sure? You barely know him”

“H-he promised! And he wont do that.. He wouldn't do that..”

His voice quivered as he spoke.. I could hear it. She could hear it. It satisfied her. The desperation.. The begging.. The fear. She wanted this. I wanted this. She scoffs at his pathetic attempt at reasoning. With her? With himself? Didn't matter.

“Promised? Don't be such a child Cain.”

He stayed silent. Had he given up on me? I try to focus on his face, his expressions. Tried to find fear of my own. His face never changed from the state it was in. he just remained silent as i felt her small arms wrap around my right one tightly.

“So strong.. Surprised he hasn't killed you himself yet”

“..please just let him go.. Ill go with you or.. Whatever you want please just.. Just let him go rowan..”

“And miss the fun opportunity? Absolutely not. What lesson would you learn from that?”

There it is. Just as strong as before. The fear and desperation as he pulls on the ropes once more, not seeming to care about the threat he was given not 5 minutes prior. Why is he fighting me so hard? A small glimpse of blinking green shines once again in the corner of my eye. He’s calling for her again. He really.. Doesn't.. Trust.. Me. I want to throw something. I want to punch the nearest fucking wall, or hell even person. But my thoughts are cut short by her soft chuckle in my ear.

“Maybe i should make him do all the punishing, maybe then you'll listen more”

Was he listening? He didn't seem to be. I just watched him continue to pull his wrists free of the tightly bound ropes to no avail. Then i hear it.

“Zayden..”

My name.

“Stop him”

Stop him.

No..

Kill him.

Please..

Beat him.

I cant..

How fucking pretty his blood will look on your hands. Your angry. I know you are.

It.. I-I'm not fucking angry..!

Let it out. Its okay. This isn't real anyway.

Stop it!

You wanted this didn't you? You wanted him gone. Just you and Zee again. Nothing to get in your way.

FUCK!

My bodies moving, i can feel it move to him faster than i ever have. I watch the fear grow in his eyes. But not for her. For me. My hands wrap around his small neck easily. I'm squeezing tightly and he can do nothing to stop my hands from breaking his small neck right there. He doesn't move.. Is that on purpose? All i can do is watch his eyes stare back at mine, glossed over and welling with tears.

“...Zayden… please…”

His voice is weak.. Soft.. searching for any air I might accidentally let in. I cant move my eyes from his and for a moment I question myself. Do I want this? This isn't.. Something I wanted. I was here to protect him.. Zee trusted me to protect him.. And yet here my hands are on the bring of taking the very life I was entrusted with. Not only by her.. But by him too. No.. no no no this.. Let go.. Let go.. Let go! Suddenly he’s on the floor, trying to curl himself as much as he can.. Trying to catch his breath quickly as though I may take it away once again. I shoved him backwards as hard as I could and now tears stream down his soft cheeks as he whimpers in pain.

“Already listening more than Cain ever did with you”

The white haired fucker spoke up for the first time in what felt like ages. I almost forgot he was even here. Part of me wonders if he really poses any use to this shit except being the getaway bitch.

“Maybe i should just keep him instead, way stronger too.”

I pay no mind to their conversation. Instead, focused on the small boy in front of me on the floor as I place one of my boots on his chest. Not like he was going anywhere if I hadn't. Nor would his eyes dare to leave me either. He winced at the pressure, still attempting to breath from my last attack.

“Zayden please you're- you're hurting me please g-gonna break- gonna break my ribs..”

No no.. I cant break you.. I - I need to save you.. I'm gonna help you.. I need you alive little hero. Everyone elses voices are nothing but muffled gibberish until i hear my dreaded name once again, not a foot from me, as she slides her hand up my left back and to my shoulder. Her grip tightens once she gets there

“-..Zayden, why don't you give him a taste of his own medicine? Not fair he got to stab you right? Bet you've been wanting revenge for that all this time”

Have I? I don't blame him for that.. do I? When did she get that close? Though my thoughts don't stop my body's instant reaction to turn in her direction and take the beautiful gold plated serrated knife she held out to me. Her initials engraved on the side of the blade. I can tell by the smirk on her face that she's pleased with this response. However, Cain was clearly not so pleased with this decision. I felt him panicking beneath my foot, attempting to pry his wrists once again from the rope. Once my attention was back on him his heartbeat felt like a fucking drum, I almost thought he’d have a heart attack before i even finished. Jax’s voice perked up again.

“Don't even have to worry bout what we tell him, quiet fucking puppet.”

“Not even a peep out of him. Zayden, you make things go away, take his sight while you're at it.”

Its true. My powers are no secret. I take away people's senses with a single touch. Cain hated his taken, I've known this. But even then this felt right.. I had to do this.. For him..? For me..? I wasn't sure. All I knew is my feet were moving as were my hands directly towards the fearful boy. His feet moved backwards as he stared at me, hoping it would save him from my grasp.. From my power. And it almost did.

“Zay.. Zay please you have to stop y-you can do it, know-know you can..”

His voice shook and his back met the concrete wall behind him. It only made him more frantic when he felt the cold wall and for a moment.. His words made me consider. I stopped for only a second, my eyes scanning his face trying to figure out why his words mattered so much to me.. My body.. My mind screamed for me to do it.. But I couldn't be rid of something deep in the back of my thoughts, screaming at the top of its lungs to stop. But it wasn't there for long, being drowned out by her voice giving me another order. Only three words.. But three words that clearly mattered more than anything screaming in my head.

“Get him Zayden”

I could see her piercing glare at the small boy through the corner of my eye.. Though I'm unsure if he cared to notice too. Too busy attempting to avoid my touch once again. He reached out and grabbed me, a bold move but one i knew could be the end of me if he wanted. And for a moment i thought it was.. It sure fucking felt like it. The dizzying shot of his power coursing through my arm where he touched, straight to my head and all through my body faster then i could even think to move.

“I-I'm sorry I'm sorry.. Please.. Please don't touch me..”

His words were pleading and genuinely apologetic. He made me fucking sick.. He’s done it before.. But not since.. Fuck I cant believe I was so fucking stupid. I cant believe he fucking did this to me.. It fucking hurts. I let go of whatever I had of him almost immediately and reach for my head instead, closing my eyes along with it. I feel like I'm going to fucking fall over. Fall 50 feet over a buildings ledge. I had one order and I couldn't just fucking do it.. Why cant he let me do this? All I can do is curse.

“Look at you Cain, fighting back? Against your new favorite person? Seems like your betrayal doesn't just include us”

I can feel her glare even when my eyes are closed, though its not towards me.. It stings all the same. Her voice is quaint and angry and i can hear his footsteps moving quickly past me. God this fucking sucks.. I feel myself sink down to the floor.

“Zayden. Zayden get the fuck up. You're tough aren't you? You're gonna let him treat you like this?”

Fuck I cant.. My body is screaming for me to move.. But I- fuck I cant. It hurts. I know the repercussions of staying here.. But I cant force myself to move. I hear him whimper a few feet from my left as he spoke once again.

“Please just leave him alone.. I-I learned my lesson, I'm so sorry.. I'm sorry..”

And for a moment there is silence, but only for a moment until I hear a voice I haven't heard quite yet, but familiar all the same. Her voice is light, soft.. But stern. She always has a distinct accent, haven't heard anyone's like it before. My only wish is that she made better time.. She's really gotta work on that.

“The fuck is this?”

Were never hearing the end of this.

“Now the whole fucking party’s here”

I hear the stupid white hair teleporter speak to my right.. Seems as though he’s next to rowan now. Great. I force my eyes to open, observing everyone, though they don't seem to notice as their eyes are glued to the tall dark haired woman in her skin tight black suit that has now entered the ring. Rowans eyes roll as she speaks.

“Come to play? I'm sure he’d love both of you finishing his punishment for me”

Z shot her a glare in response, I had always found her crystal eyes deadly. Now I'm sure of it.

“What? Cant fight your own battles all of a sudden? Done getting your ass handed to you?”

“Awe but its so much more fun to watch you all put on a cute little performance for us”

Rowans white haired pet speaks with a sly smirk on his face, I think if I could kill one person in the entire world and not get Z’s backlash on ‘being a hero’.. It'd be him. Though right now her look almost makes me think shell do it for me at this point. Cain had only curled up in the corner far from any of us. And for a moment my mind felt more clear, as everything that had happened suddenly rushed at me like a tsunami. All i can think of is him, and for him.. I immediately take my hand and touch my forearm.. Focusing on my power and taking away my own hearing. I used to do this often, mostly when i was tired of zees rant and lessons, or when someone on the train was just to fucking much.. So reading lips was not as difficult a task as for others, and now i can breath. Watching as the group argues and whines. Watching their lips closely.

“Entertainment? No wonder you all haven't taken over yet”

“Seems like were doing real fuckin good right now, entertainment or not” Jax snarked back

“Seems like you all are wasting your time once again, now should i kill you or should you go and leave us the hell alone?”

She was always giving them outs.. It was her only flaw. And one i feared would be her demise.

“Zayden, kill her”

Rowan seemed to grow tired of the arguing and yea.. Fuck you. I didn't move and inch from where I was and confusion was slowing growing on rowans face as she turned her attention to me, noticing my lack of movement. Her white haired pet noticed to, not wasting a moment to send his smokey powers into zees throat. she struggled to breath, grabbing at her throat and I could only watch for a moment before rowan lunges for me. I couldn't make out what she was saying to me, but all I knew it is was obviously really fucking dumb. I attempt to touch her, hoping that if I took away anything from her that her white haired pet would follow suit and disengage the smoke he had in Z’s lungs. I tried standing, fighting against Rowan to hopeful get an advantage. I was far taller then her, and id argue stronger, but only standing. She knew it to, as soon as I groggily got to my feet she attempted to back away.

“Fucking asshole! You were doing so well too!”

Wah wah. All I can tell from her expression is that she's whining. Shocker. Suddenly a flash of light was there.. Then gone. As was she. Her pet had teleported himself over and grabbed her.. Guess that works. Z’s now coughing up a lung in hopes to get her breath back and I am the smartest fucking person on the team. Everything's in harmony. The only problem is I’m still dizzy as a bitch.. And fearful of what I've done to Cain.. Trying to suppress those thoughts until after the danger has passed is easier said then done as they keep flashing in the front of my mind. How could you? He needed you? You did this. You hurt him. Soon my eyes are finding themselves distracted on the moving figure in front of me as she runs in Cain's direction. I don't dare move closer then I am already, I don't deserve that. I don't deserve him to see me right now. I don't deserve him near me.

“Hey.. hey are you hurt?”

She speaks in her soft, nurturing voice she always uses with him.

“C-cant tell.. Cant s-see.. Hurts”

I cant hear him.. But I watch the pain on his face flourish. for a moment i think that maybe I should find the two fuckheads that caused this. To kill them or die trying. To show him I'm-.. I'm fuckin sorry. But my feet are planted where i am and I only watch as Z carefully crouches next to him.

“Can I touch you? I wanna make sure you're okay”

“Can- can touch me..”

He nods only slightly and it hits me. The chair. The chair I brutally shoved him over in as his wrists and ankles were bound, powerless to choose otherwise.

“..Head.. check his head.. and his chest.. Check them both..”

She glances at me when I speak before immediately turning her attention back to the small boy, checking him over.. First his chest.. That was only littered with a few scrapes and bruises.. Then his head.. Fine for a moment until her hand slowly slide to the back of his head. The pain on his face was enough of an indication that she hit the spot, let alone the hard flinch that followed. She moved her hand away as fast as he had reacted to it being there to begin with, and with that her hand was decorated in a dark red liquid. If her face didn't show concern before it sure did now. It was written all over it. I did this. I caused this to him. He could die because of me.

“Oh fuck Cain..”

“H-hurts so much.. I don't- I don't understand..”

He looks confused. I feel selfish.

“You're okay.. You're gonna be fine here.. Let me lift you okay?”

I watch as she carefully picks him up of the floor before rowans mouth seemly opens once again, this time Jax no where near her.

“Whos this Cain? Answer your mother. Should your mother know all your friends?”

“I-i just want to go home Z..”

This cant be good. Z seems to try to ignore her taunts, only frowning in response, but I cant say that its working the same for Cain.

“I know.. We will.. I promise”

“Oh Z? What an interesting name. Why don't you come bring him to me Z”

The smirked grows on her face as zee stops for a moment and starts heading in the direction of the smart mouthed woman. And for a moment I think it might have worked.. But her eyes are still hers, as are her movements. They give her away, and suddenly I don't feel like the smartest person on the team anymore.

“Good girl”

Rowan mused seemingly proud of herself as Z made her way closer to rowan. There was a pause.. And then finally, like a bolt of lightning, Z reaches out her hand as grabs rowans forearm. As rowans eyes grow wider and she attempts to yank her arm away from her grasp, I can only assume she's draining her.

“Get off!!”

Just then I feel a cold think metal pressed against my neck and an muscled arm wrap itself around me before I can make a move.

“Fucken stop, or ill kill him!”

Her pets voice was like nails on a chalkboard to my ears, and of course he was right fuckin next to them. But as zee looked over at the screaming banchi, she let rowans arm free and she stumbled backwards just as quickly. Just as fast as the metal was there, it was gone. A flash of light left in its place as Jax teleported his way over to his owner, and then poof… they were both gone with the light. Wherever they went I couldn't seem to care. All i could focus on was the boy in Z’s arms still, looking at her suit that was now covered in his own dark red blood.

“C-can feel the b-blood..”

“Hey hey, its okay. I'm gonna help you okay?’

Her voice and attention all back to him. Paying me almost no mind. Which was okay.. Perfect actually.. Really didn't need the lecture right about now.

“I- I cant heal it.. I-I cant heal it I would if I could..”

He’s always trying to fix himself, fix everyone. Even when he’s the one dying. Which of course it’d be very convenient if his powers worked as so, but they weren't always so considerate. Z knew so too, but i knew she couldn’t break it to him. She never could.

“I know.. I know you would its okay.. Head wounds bleed a lot even when they're small. Ill fix it for you and it'll be okay.”

I watch her as she tries to stop the bleeding with her hand. Only met with another small flinch and a scrunched face.

“Ow.. that-that really hurts”

“Shh I know.. I'm sorry. Let me take you home okay? Zay will follow”

He only nods and she gives me a short glance, hoping I would get the memo I assume. But that doesn't stop them from talking about me some more.

“H-he okay? I made him sick I-I think?”

“He looks okay, I don't think he can hear, but that's his own doing don't worry about him”

Please don't worry about me, I don't think I can handle anymore fucking pity. I don't deserve it.

“I-I gave her his name.. I-I didn't mean to.. M I in t-trouble?”

Z shook her head, and I absently shook mine slightly as well. No. never.

“That's not your fault.. Absolutely not. Not even a little”

This time he didn't reply, only playing with the zipper and clasps on her suit as she gave me another quick glance, beginning to walk home. I just followed, a few paces back. Keeping my distance. I cant risk anything. I cant.

#whump #boxboy #whumpee #whumper #superherowhump #superhero whump #superhero #original character #superpower whump #mindcontrol #mindcontrolwhump #oc whump #originalcharacterwhump #powerwhump #dead dove do not eat #i am new please be kind #i dont know what im doin

2 notes · View notes

tss-whumper · 2 months

Text

yeah

i’m definitely fueled by that hater anon

i’m gonna write some boxboy-esque whump

two whumpees

one will be fat

and they will both be whumped to holy hell

and it’ll be great (not for them tho lol)

yes the whumpees will be roman and janus

yes they’ll start out as enemies and then realize that they have to get along out of necessity

and yes janus will have a BIG BODY.

#whump community #whump writing #sanders sides #tss #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #logan sanders #tss whumper rambles

14 notes · View notes

whumpy-daydreams · 9 months

Text

Writing Masterlist

A list of lists! My writing tag mortiawrites

Land of Liars

Rowena is a captive at Voscland Human Research Facility (VHRF), and is one of their most defiant lab rats. Rudy is her handler, who's job is to try and keep her in line. (lab whump, lady whump, magic)

The Contortionist and the Bodyguard

Olive is an underpaid contortionist at Madame Tatania's Circus of Delights, or at least she was. At auction she meets Leon, a security guard who was kidnapped and now waits to be sold to the highest bidder. (captivity whump, non-boxboy pet whump, lady whump)

Miscellaneous/unnamed

Youngest but not the weakest

Broken Whumpee

Unknown rescue

Not so bad

Covered in blood and clutching a knife

Living weapon whump

327 series

living weapon indoctrination

Medical whump guides

Brief guide to surgery masterlist

#mortiawrites #writing masterlist

21 notes · View notes

whump-blog · 10 months

Text

What does BBU mean?

@aetherblackpotter

Hii First I love the art ! Just, I'm new, can you explain to me what "BBU whum" mean ? I know about Whumpee/Whumper but I don't know about bbu...

Glad you like my art and thanks for the question. And because the answer can be a bit complex I decided to answer it in this separate post.

So BBU stands for Box Boy Universe, which is a sandbox within the whump community.

The BBU is basically a modern world setting in which slavery is legalised and people can sell their freedom to the WRU to become slaves.

The WRU is a company in charge of erasing the memory of people who sign a contract with them to become slaves/pets (with the promise of a better future) and train them in their facilities to be the perfect pet for their future owner.

BoxBoys/Babes can be trained in different designations such as Platonic, Domestics, Romantics or Guard Dogs.

(The thing is, there have been rumours of people disappearing and reappearing as BoxBoys. People who haven't signed contracts with the WRU, but the WRU is a trusted company, those must just be rumours)

In this same universe there is also a movement against the WRU and in favour of the liberation of the Box Boys, ordinary people who do not agree with the company and the obvious abusive situations suffered by those who sign contracts with them.

If you have any further questions, please do not hesitate to ask me. Maybe I'm not very good at explaining haha.

If you are interested you can read my main story set in the BBU here or here I have a recommendation list where you can find other authors who write in the BBU.

By the way some writers in the whump community write something called pet whump which is similar to the BBU but without the WRU aspect and the specific elements of the universe. For example @whumpzone's story here or @sideblogformindtrash's story here.

#whump #whump community #bbu whump #bbu #box boy universe #bbu worldbuilding #worldbuilding #ask #answered ask #aetherblackpotter #whump writing

35 notes · View notes

whumpawink · 1 year

Text

My Favorite Whump (or whump-y) Series

@pretty-face-breaker ‘s Emir’s Masterlist (1973)

@deluxewhump ‘s The Blackmuir Reign

@deluxewhump ‘s True North

@whumpwillow ‘s Hazeshift

@whump-in-the-closet ‘s Liberosis

@ashintheairlikesnow ‘s Erase to Control

@whumpering-heights ‘s Behind the Masks

@deluxewhump ‘s Frathouse Boxboy (Z2) (some NSFW)

@whumpsday ‘s Kane and Jim

@/coldresolve ‘s Moneymakers (pls do not tag as whump)

@whumblr ‘s :

Home is Where the Hurt is

Custody Series

@painsandconfusion ‘s With You

@whump-world ‘s Deal with the Devil (NSFW)

@spookyboywhump ‘s Wren/Zander/Cain

@whumpshaped ‘s Devil... h-hot... (crack whump) (SOME NSFW)

@whumpshaped ‘s 7 Minutes in Hell

@whumpzone ‘s Linden and Colton (SOME NSFW)

Tomas and Rowe

@the-bloody-sadist ‘s Dancing with Death

@hurting-fictional-people ‘s Whumpee Betrays Caretaker

@whump-tr0pes ‘s Honor Bound

@whumpers-inc ‘s Who Wants To Be A Whumpee?

@thoughtsonhurtandcomfort ‘s Arrin and Alex (SOME NSFW)

@secretwhumplair ‘s No Warrior (some implied NSFW)

@whumpacabra ‘s The Black Knight

@ shameless whumper’s Jericho series

(since this is gonna be ongoing and constantly edited pls lemme know if every time i edit it tags yall again and i’ll unlink the @‘s 😅💖)

#ive been meaning to do this for a while lol #so i can revisit them 😌#this will be an ongoing list #also in no particular order i could never rank them #im rediscovering so many series ive missed aaaaaaa

87 notes · View notes

highwaywhump · 1 year

Note

Would you be up for writing a little piece about kill shelters, from the pet’s POV? I saw that you said you wouldn’t write about pets actually being PTS - completely understandable! - what if someone were to come in at the last second with the news that the pet’s original owner had been found? I’m so curious on what the process would be for the shelter handling this- since it would technically be murder, how would it be done in a way to remain ‘legal’? And what would the pet be told? Would they tell them what was going to happen, or just ‘get on with it’? :o

TW/CW: A CHARACTER THAT IDEALIZES DEATH/HAS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. to be clear, he doesn't die, but another character does (this comes through very vaguely - never voiced outright). brief and vague mention of a gun, talk of scars, low self image, talk of collars and chains and cages/kennels, description of a hit and run victim (still alive), brief description of a dislocated hip, talk of restraints, talk of syringes and needles.

i know our community has suffered these past few days, and i was seriously debating whether i should post this piece or not. in the end, i figure that writing has been my way of overcoming difficult feelings for many years now, and i have been dealing with a lot of them lately, including intense stress and depression. if anyone feels i am doing something wrong in posting this piece, please let me know and i'll see what i'll do about it.

i am also painfully aware this ask was sent over a month ago (in reference to this ask), but i had to sit down and think about how i wanted to go about it. BE AWARE that the following piece features a character that idealizes/wishes for death - please sit this one out if you are struggling with such thoughts. i'm putting everything under a read more so that you can avoid reading a single word if you don't feel comfortable. my dm’s are always open if you want to talk about anything. <3

this character might seem familiar to some. spoiler, this is how poker from this piece ended up. he was about 35 when joey met him and he’s a few years older in this piece. and i'm sorry but there’s just something about men in cages… (also, let’s ignore that i add a bunch of details here that weren’t present in the first piece with him. also also, i don’t know what happened to the verb tenses in this one. it’s the middle of the night. roll with the punches i guess)

It might’ve been months since the guard dog saw his owner last. He doesn’t know. He’s stopped counting.

Well.

He never really started.

He doesn’t remember much about him. He’d lost another fight, the last one in a long row of losses. He’d been pulled into the back of a car by his thick collar afterwards, dazed and hot and sputtering blood all over the leather seats. They’d hit him in the ribs for it and he knew he’d deserved it.

Whoever was driving had been given orders in his owner’s rough voice.

“Go down to the docks. Get rid of him.”

He knew there was a lethal piece of metal stuck down the waistband of the driver’s jeans.

He’d been taken a few hours outside the city instead, deposited on the wet asphalt outside of a brick building and chained to a drainpipe. The driver had gotten back in the car and sped off.

The guard dog had leaned against the hard brick, watching as the brake lights disappeared. He didn’t think much, other than okay. As if he had anything else to say about his situation.

His surroundings turned into a shapeless blur from there. Hands touching him, cold and unfeeling and clad in blue rubber. A couple were soft and took their time to stroke his hair, scratch the hard to reach place between his shoulder blades. He savored those moments, and tried to remember the hands and the face they belonged to, but none of it lasted.

Nothing ever lasted around him, it seemed. He couldn’t keep an owner for more than a few months, never more than a year. Couldn’t keep winning. Couldn’t keep anyone safe, even though that was the thing he was made for. The only thing that kept, were the scars.

And the fucking tattoo on his wrist. Not even the facility that had made him, wanted him back when the shelter called them about him. Too old. They had no prospects who would want someone like him.

That was what the visitors said too, few and far between as they were. Too old. Too big, too many scars, too scary, too ugly, too old, too dumb, too old again. They talked about him as if he wasn’t even there, huddled up in a corner just on the other side of the chain link.

He knew it was his fault. He should be, or at least seem, happier to see them. Smile. Wait at the kennel gate, like all the others did whenever somebody stopped by.

But to what end? Another owner who would put him in the ring again, just to be angry at him when he loses? Or someone he can take bullets for again, even though he isn’t quick and bright enough to anticipate them anymore?

He doesn’t dare hope that anyone else would want him, not in his condition. It’s true, what they say. He’s old. Scarred, slow. There are sunshine stories of even the most unwanted of pets, expenses in every way, who somehow end up on the couches of kind people who just want a companion, their head resting in their laps, petted by soft fingers.

Those people get platonics, though. Domestics. Even the occasional romantic can adapt to such a lifestyle.

But not an old ex guard dog, like him.

He’s no use to anyone, not anymore.

They remove him from the kennel one day. For a moment, his heart beats a little faster. He can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement, but it turns out neither is warranted. He’s taken to another room, a chain attached to his collar, the other end pin shackled to a ring in the wall. Another pet, younger and prettier, is put in his kennel. He can see them through the frosted glass on the door.

He turns away.

He doesn’t cry.

Visitors don’t come through this room, he realizes, and for the first few days he’s happy for it. Nobody talks about him now. It’s quiet and the cold linoleum floor is almost comfortable on his joints. The only bad thing about this room is the other pet, chained to the wall opposite of him. The man is curled up, breathing shallowly through dried blood in his nostrils, and the sound is annoying. He’s younger than him, and he was probably very pretty once, but now his face is bruised and swollen, and bloody in the crevices even though they washed him with a damp cloth when he came in. Hit and run, somebody had said in passing.

That was four days ago. The guard dog watches him, mostly because there isn’t much else to look at in here. His leg is in a weird position, he’s noticed. It’s as if the thigh has rotated where it attaches to the hip. He wonders if it’s supposed to be that way. It doesn’t look very comfortable. His stomach is weirdly distended, too. It looks out of place on a body that is otherwise slim and smooth.

Two workers descend on him one day, kneeling down beside the misshapen figure. They talk to him, sweetly, as they gently lift him over on a gurney and start wheeling him through another door. “You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up,” one of the workers say, a vinyl clad hand patting his shoulder. The one part of him that isn’t broken.

The guard dog catches the faint smile visible through a swollen cheek as they pass him. The other pet is happy they’re coming for him, making him feel better. Finally.

Maybe twenty minutes have passed when the workers come back. One of them wipes their hands on their worn jeans. “Glad that’s over,” he mutters. "Should have been done when he came in," the other says. The guard dog meets his gaze as they pass. Neither of them say anything.

They’d come for him a few days later. They wear the same smiles and the same gloves as they did with the other pet, but he doesn’t need the sweet talking. He goes with them willingly. He’d stopped eating a while back and his muscle tone had disappeared a long time ago, so it was easy for them to help him up to his feet. He’s taller than them, still, and keeps his head down the way he’s always done.

He’s known cold. Heat, pain, pleasure even, in small stints. Grief, fear. Rage. As he places one bare foot in front of the other on the beige linoleum, obediently following the worker in front, he knows he will soon know death.

And he isn’t afraid.

“You won’t feel a thing,” one of them says as they help him sit on the steel table in the next room, as if anyone has ever cared about how he’s feeling.

“You’ll feel much better after,” the other worker says, without specifying exactly what was supposed to be better, as they gently lay him down. The table has leather straps hanging down the sides, ready to restrain its more unwilling cases, but he doesn’t move and they don’t use the straps. In the corner of his eye he can see two syringes on the counter. One of them is skinny and filled with clear fluid. The needle is small and will slip into him easily. He’s had many needles before. This won’t feel any different, he decides. The other syringe is larger, the needle too big to be used on somebody who was awake feel it.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll feel better after. The guard dog refocuses his gaze on the bright light overhead. He closes his eyes.

“Small pinch, now,” one worker says, and he can feel a pinprick at the crook of his elbow, the cold liquid fanning up his arm as it is being pushed in. His heart beats a few more times before the serum reaches it. He can feel his pulse, docile to begin with, calm down even more. He feels sleepy, his body heavy, as if he’s being pushed into the table from above. The hard metal digging into his joints doesn’t matter anymore. He knows he won’t even notice the other syringe. He knows he’ll feel better soon.

A grating ringtone interrupts his silent mind. One of the workers picks up, speaking in a low voice. Sleep tugs at the edges of his mind, and he wants to follow. Right before he goes under, the sound of hard plastic hitting metal and a few words make it through the fuzzy walls inside his head.

“No trouble at all. You’re just in time, sir.”

to answer your other questions, anon: in the legal sense it wouldn't be murder, as the pets aren't people anymore, they're only human at the biological level (again, in a legal sense). it's necessary :) and humane :) euthanasia :). the pets aren't told anything/they're gently reassured and told they're going on for surgery, or something similar. i think "you'll feel better when you wake up," is a classic in these circles. i'm sure some understand what is about to happen (hence the restraints on the table), but the majority goes quick and silent. i have no idea what happens to them after though so don't ask me about that :)

23 notes · View notes