#slainteowhump

[ashintheairlikesnow]

could i request a brief connor-angst drabble? the happy-ending AU with B and Demetri Connor, please

CW: Referenced conditioning and torture including dubcon/noncon situations in the past, angsty fucky dubcon thoughts now, referenced past biphobia/homophobia with religious overtones/parental emotional abuse

Demetri and B belong to @slaintetowhump and @moose-teeth

Mostly, he’s cool with it. He understood that they had bonded to each other in a way deeper than Connor could ever have hoped to bond with anyone, right from the start. They shared hell together - shared being held by men bent on destroying whatever of themselves they tried to hold onto, shared those mens’ bed, shared their tricks and games and torture techniques. They shared scars, witnessed times scars were made and times they were treated. They had built something shared, in secret, in the dark.

Connor’s just the asshole who was a part of the whole fucking machine of it, who helped hold up the structure and sure as fuck did his part to destroy them and others like them, who decided one day to stop.

That’s all he is. 

He’s not better, he’s not good.

He’s just another motherfucker who had it turned on him and couldn’t handle it anymore. He’s just some dick trying to turn it around, too little too late. You don’t get redemption, for the kind of shit Connor Manning has done. All you can do is try to get away, make sure that you don’t fuck up anyone else any worse than you already have. 

He couldn’t - and would never - ask for B’s forgiveness.

All he could do was give B - and then Demetri - a home in which they could rebuild whatever they still had left inside them. Connor Manning, a big damn hero all right, scooping up ruined pets to try and fix his own mistakes.

Good fucking job, numbnuts, you destroyed a hundred lives but you can kind of maybe make two lives better, aren’t you just the pinnacle of goddamn human achievement.

Jesus, I hope they do leave you, it’s what you deserve. It’s all you deserve. Should’ve just told Ferrick to fuck you death, he’d probably enjoy the goddamn challenge.

Connor kicked the barn wall with his boot, watching the momentum travel through the wood. Nearby, one of the fuzzier barn cats, a big fluffy gray with white front paws B had named River Rock, lay along a stall divider, tail swishing idly back and forth, watching him. 

He doesn’t even know what set him off, exactly. He’d woken up thinking about it, and then there’d been something... maybe the other two doing the dishes after breakfast, some flirtation between them, the way they worked so easily and perfectly together... 

He’s not stupid, or not all the time, anyway. He gets it, he does. He gets that he’s just the way they get to be together, the setting for their happy ending, part of the furniture.

He’d already been on edge and then they were just so perfect together, fit together like puzzle pieces, the large muscular ex-Guard Dog and the smaller lithe half-trained sort-of Romantic (what the fuck was that asshole mob boss trying to do, anyway) laughing together and Connor had sent them on an errand out where his land butted up to Anne’s pastures just to... just to buy himself time to lurk in here with the barn cats and hate himself.

Hating himself comes as easily now as it did when he was sixteen, and isn’t that a fucking laugh riot. Samuel Watson, Jr., went off to the big city - changed his name - comes back home and slides right back in to the same way he felt when he was just... Sammy.

Maybe he should call his mother in Florida and ask her to tell him all the ways he’s going to hell, add that on. It’s not like he’d even notice the extra weight, anymore.

Mom, you’ve got no fucking clue what I’ve actually done to deserve hell, but why don’t you tell me about how it’s the parts inside me that damned me, and I can tell you about how my actions were so much worse than my identity could ever be.

“Connor?” Demetri’s voice is soft, and Connor tenses in surprise, but he doesn’t turn around. 

“I thought I told you to go work out near the fields,” He says, his voice caught, eyes burning hot. He can’t turn around - Demetri’s too good at seeing tears even when Connor hides them. 

“I, I know you did, but... I was talking to B, and we thought-... you seemed sad. So we came back.” The voice gets closer, the scrape of Demetri’s boots on the barn’s dirt floor, pushing aside the hay they put down to help the cats keep warm in the winter. 

“Why?” Connor lays a hand on a bit of heavy, rusted metal. He’s not even sure what purpose it served, it’s laid here along the wall since his grandfather owned this farm. Maybe they built the fucking barn around it. “Why did you come back? Why do you ever?”

There’s a pause, a silence, and then Demetri’s boots scrape along the floor again, coming closer and closer. Connor holds himself perfectly still, refuses to look at the blond. He doesn’t tremble when he feels a long-fingered hand along his back. “Connor? What do you... what do you mean?”

Connor’s eyes close, tears building there, threatening to spill. “I have twenty-five grand in a savings account,” He says, trying to get the words out fast enough that he can’t stop himself.

Don’t leave me.

“And I can sign the truck over. I’ve got papers for you both, fake IDs, Social Security numbers, the works. It’s in my safety deposit box. I’ll give you money, and everything you need - you can stay in my old apartment if you want, I just-... I have everything you need to leave.”

“Why... why would we want to?”

Connor hadn’t even heard B. His boots didn’t make the same scraping sounds that Demetri’s did. B was trained to move silently, had had it even more strongly reinforced in him that he should be seen and not heard. When his voice asked the question, rumbling and deep, Connor caught his breath at how close B was, just on his other side.

“Why-... why wouldn’t... why wouldn’t you?” To his shame, Connor has to sniff back the tears, then, and the sound is as loud as a shout in the silent barn. His voice is trembling, struggling to get the words out.

He’s sniffling like a fucking kid when he doesn’t have the fucking right.

B is the first one to slide arms around him, nuzzling into he side of his head, into Connor’s thick dark hair. Demetri’s arms move around his waist, and there’s one on either side of him, the same way they often end up at night, but this isn’t sex and this isn’t sleeping, this is... something else.

“Love you,” B rumbles, just against his ear. “Stay with you, Connor.”

“Well, you shouldn’t, and y-you shouldn’t want to. I’m the piece of shit who did all of this to you.”

Demetri, after months here, showed a sharp-witted humor in flashes, the buried man under all the drugs and training digging his way slowly out. And now, he rested his cheek on Connor’s shoulder and said, gently, “Maybe we like the piece of shit who did this to us. Or we like you, anyway, which isn’t the same thing at all.”

“Yes, it is, I’m exactly the same as I was.”

“Not the same... you’re not.” B again, and he felt like they were winds blowing him around and shielding him from the wind, at the same time. They were both. “Not the same. None of us are.”

“I just-... I just wanted to do one good thing.” Connor groans, ashamed of himself for the admission. “I don’t think... I thought, maybe I could do one good thing, and if it’s the only good thing I could do, at least it’s... something. When you’re ready, I have everything you need to go.”

“We’re not, though.” Demetri kisses his cheek, at the same moment B nuzzles back into his neck, and Connor leans back into the affection he can’t possibly earn, will never deserve. 

“Not going anywhere.” B’s teeth just graze his neck, and Connor catches his breath at the soft little sting.

“You can’t make us,” Demetri teases, an easy flirtation that seems less trained and more genuine and sincere, or maybe Connor just can’t tell the difference when he’s like this.

“Love you,” B murmurs into his neck. “We love you, Connor.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Demetri snorts, and there are fingers lightly pressing on his jaw, until Connor opens his eyes to find his face has been turned to look right at the blond, who gives him a slight, wry smile and the softest kiss. “Connor. Don’t you think B and I get to decide that, now? We decided we love you. Just try and stop us.”

“Demetri-” Connor’s eyes drop, only just now realizing Demetri isn’t wearing a collar today. 

Demetri blinks, then his smile widens when he sees Connor’s gaze move to his neck and he tilts his chin up slightly, showing off the bare expanse of neck. “All day,” he says, almost shyly. “Since our shower. We want to be here.”

B’s fingers, then, taking his chin to turn it back the other way, and B’s kiss is harder, rougher, lasts longer, but Connor melts into it. “We want to be here,” He says, in his deep voice, the intensity of his gaze focused entirely on Connor’s face. “Both of us. With you. Love you.”

Demetri’s mouth is on his neck while B kisses him again.

“We love you, Connor.” Demetri’s lips move against his skin. “Life doesn’t give you... doesn’t only give what you deserve.”

If they tore him apart right here in the barn he’d have understood it was only what he'd earned, payment in turn for all the evil things he’s done.

Instead of what he deserves, they give him this.

Over and over again.

We love you.

#emotional whump #villain redemption #connor manning just wants to be friends #whump #trauma recovery whump #box boy #box boy multiverse #box boy universe #moose-teeth #slainteowhump #angst #connor hates himself SO MUCH #I'm not sure I make that clear enough #SO MUCH

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Happy Ending

Because sometimes family is a baffled ex-Handler in love and two recovering pets and nobody has any fucking clue what they’re doing except when they’re doing each other

and also cats. so many cats.

featuring Connor Manning, @moose-teeth​’s B, and @slaintetowhump​‘s Demetri

“I’m not stupid, Sammy,” Anne said, arms crossed with one hip jutting out in the pale blue jeans and tucked-in flannel shirt that was just about her everyday uniform. “You really think I believed all that nonsense about a boyfriend?”

The blood drained from Connor’s face. “Uh, well, I thought-”

“Hush. You think I don’t know a pet when I see one? I’m country, Sammy, not an idiot. I’ve been to big cities before, I’ve seen the richies with their pets. I knew your boy was an ex-pet the second I met him. Get ‘em out here. I know you’ve got a new one, I saw him running for the house when I drove up. Show me.”

Connor groaned, rubbing a hand over his face with his eyes closed. “They’re not-... I don’t really treat them like-... fine. Okay, fine.” He turned and called back through the open front door. “Baby, pretty boy, come on out and, uh... let’s introduce Demetri to my... to Aunt Anne.”

B came out first, obediently enough, and behind him, clinging to the back of his shirt, Demetri followed, eyes skipping nervously from Connor to an older woman who looked very much like him, but with plenty of wrinkles in her wind-roughened face and the look of a woman who spent more time laughing than she did anything else. 

“There you are,” Anne said, warmly, when she saw B. “You were hiding from me, hm? Did Sammy tell you to hide?”

Demetri’s voice was nearly a whisper. “Sammy?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you Connor’s not his real name, hm?”

“It is my real name, Anne,” Connor groaned. “We’ve been over this.”

“Hush. Tell me why you’ve been lying to me about this one-” She pointed at B. “And why you’ve been hiding this one.” The point moved to Demetri, who sunk slightly behind B. 

B wasn’t wearing his collar, but Demetri still had his on.

“Uh... well...” Connor rubbed the back of his neck, uneasily. “I just-... I thought you might be mad, and I don’t-... exactly treat ‘em like you’re supposed to treat pets, and-... um... are you  mad?” He ducked his head, looking at his aunt with a look more suited to a nervous teenager than a grown man.

“Bit mad you lied,” Anne acknowledged. “Madder still that you lied twice. But you’re my family, Sammy. Just about the only family worth havin’ in our bloodline. So let me see your new boy, hm? I brought cookies.”

Demetri perked up at that. 

So did B. “I like your cookies,” He said, almost shyly, to Anne.

“I know you do, love,” Anne replied, and B all but melted under the gentle no-nonsense affection.

Connor rolled his eyes, but a smile started to play across his face. “Yeah, okay. His name’s-”

“My name is Pretty,” Demetri whipered.

“His name’s Demetri,” Connor said, emphasizing slightly. “We’re still working on getting him his name back, it’s... a process. Like my baby’s still a process. They’re not... really pets, exactly, anymore.”

“Well, I should hope not.” Anne sighed, a long-suffering sigh with more than a little humor in it, and then she glanced back at her beat-up old pickup truck parked beside Connor’s in the driveway. “Well. Which one of you boys is going to save an old woman a trip back to the truck to get the cookie trays out?”

B started down the steps automatically, Demetri trailing him with one hand pressed to B’s back like the larger man was an anchor that held him to the earth. “I’ll get them,” B rumbled, all his earlier tension dissipated now that Anne had accepted Demetri so readily. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Anne said, and then turned to Connor when they were out of earshot. “Another one, Sammy?”

“I know, but...” Connor sighed and threw up his hands. “But Demetri was dumped and WRU called me about him, and it turns out he and my baby knew each other and, uh, they’re kind of in love? And, you know how my baby is, he just, he gets an idea in his head-”

“And God help whoever stands between him and what he cares about,” Anne finished, smiling a little at the look of loving exasperation on her nephew’s face.

“Exactly! I kind of tried to say no, but... he did the thing where he does the eyes, and-”

“And you couldn’t say no.”

“Could you?”

Anne looked back at her truck, where B was holding two trays of cookies and smiling at Demetri, who was balancing a third on his head and looking back with eyes full of total adoration. 

“No,” She said, thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose I could.”

#trauma recovery #pet whump #sort of #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #slainteowhump #moose-teeth #whump moodboard #oc moodboard

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Demetri Lindemann/Pretty and Handler Luke Petrus

Demetri was sure the panic was going to swallow him. He was drowning, this feeling had never overwhelmed him before. Especially not when there was no immediate danger. He’d never had a panic attack before, and his mind couldn’t even supply the thought of what it was.

Then there was a hand pulling him way from the counter until he could press himself against the warm, soothing form of the handler.

It was almost instinctive now that his face tucked into the handler’s neck, the scent wrapped his brain in a fog of calm.

Even once his pulse slowed and he could breathe normally, Demetri couldn’t make himself pull away. He knew the feeling had been fake, drugged in to him by force, but now the love and affection he felt was so very real.

“I just want it to stop hurting...”

"It hurts because you fight it. So stop fighting me."

@slaintetowhump, thanks for letting me wreck your boy. I love him so. 💜

#luke petrus is a piece of garbage #demetri baby i promise i love you #this is why i hurt you so #and will keep hurting you #i mean ssshhhhhh #slainteowhump #other people's ocs #my ocs #whump #whump moodboard

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Oh and Connor + cat nip? I suspect we'll be in dire need of fluffiness soon... Or you'll just go and ruin innocent cat nip too

AND I SHALL RUIN IT

CW: Pet whump, muzzling, @slaintetowhump‘s Giovanni Rossi being a creepy/intimate whumper in the extreme, look a lot of these have been fluffy I couldn’t resist. Ridley (referenced) belongs to @moose-teeth

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Giovanni Rossi crooned, beckoning with his fingers, the other elbow resting on his knee. He sat in a beautifully crafted Italian leather armchair, made custom just for the house, just like he seemed to think Connor was custom-made for him.

Connor was too exhausted to glare, but he still managed to put some spark of hateful life into his dark eyes, the only things visible above the thick black leather muzzle that fit over the bottom half of his face with only a few holes for him to breathe through, forcing his mouth shut and, according to Rossi, adding to his aesthetic.

“You can come when you’re called,” Rossi said with a new firmness in his voice, “Or you can make me come over there and get you. You won’t like the second choice.”

Did he like any of Rossi’s choices? Connor narrowed his eyes slightly, then pushed himself onto his hands and knees, moving to Rossi’s side where he sat back, thighs resting on heels, and tried to give an even more hateful glare now that he was closer.

“That’s better, kitty.” Rossi grinned. “My darling Ridley won’t be back home until Friday, but he asked me to take a very special picture of you.” 

Darling Ridley. Connor tried not to audibly gag.

Rossi slid the headband on over Connor’s head, gripping tightly just behind his ears on either side. Connor forced his eyes to lose focus so he wouldn’t have to see the little black felt triangles that stuck up on either side, and tried to tell himself that maybe one day he’d get to strangle Giovanni Rossi with his bare fucking hands.

Once he got the fucking shock collar off, anyway.

Rossi took Connor’s chin and tilted his head back until his eyes were nearly facing towards the ceiling, and balanced something soft and vaguely lavender-colored on the end of his nose. Connor couldn’t tell what it was but it had a weird, slightly minty smell.

Rossi took out his phone and snapped a few photos in succession, then grinned and sat back, knocking the little purple thing off Connor’s nose with one quick movement of his hand.

Connor’s eyes followed it, and when it landed a few feet away, he realized what the familiar minty smell had been.

It was a fucking catnip mouse, with little black threads for a smiling mouth and little black eyes.

“Go get it,” Rossi said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Go on, kitty. Go play with your toy. Ridley wants a video.”

Connor tried to take a deep breath, struggling to get enough air through the muzzle, and tried to think fuck you loudly enough that Rossi could hear it reverberate through his skull.

But when Rossi’s fingertips played at the little remote he kept always in his hand, the control to the shock collar that was buckled too tightly around Connor’s neck, he flinched at the movement, and with Rossi’s smile burning a brand into his back, he moved to go pick the catnip toy back up again.

#connor manning just wants to be friends #one word prompts #slainteowhump #moose teeth #whump #pet whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #tw: dehumanization #shock collar