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0.3 Whumpuary 2024
Used as bait / Stumbling / "This is gonna hurt"
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“You know,” Kai panted, straining against the ropes to his wrists, his arms, “for all the efforts you went through in capturing me again, one would think you would take good care of me once you did manage to take me for good.”
“I do take good care of you, sweet.”
The boy yanked his arms against his constraints, repressing the instinct to bare his teeth at his captor, his nightmare.
“Using me as bait is not good care. Sir-”
“Shush.” Kyriel pushed a cloth in Kai’s mouth, the boy’s complaints muffled by the gag. “You make a very pretty bait. And-” He kissed him on the cheek, proprietary and wet. “You should save your strength.” He smiled, horrible and slow. “This is going to hurt, I am afraid.”
Kai and Kyriel Masterlist | Whumpuary 2024 Masterlist
Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @flowersarefreetherapy @enigmawritesstuff @sunshiline-writes
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fulcrumwrites · 1 month
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Prompt #10: Locks
Locks are so incredibly underutilized in whump writing. They are, of course, alluded to, but almost never described. Some examples:
• Whumpee’s heart drops as they hear the heavy, final click of their captor turning the key in the lock to their cell/cage/coffin/closet/etc. Trapped, they listen as the footsteps fade away, leaving them in the cold, dark, and loneliness.
• From the other side, whumpee can hear whumper sealing the door with layers of chains before padlocking it. They throw themselves against the door, screaming for help. But the chains and lock don’t give.
• Locking the padlock on chains, tugging it to make sure it won’t snap. Stepping back and smirking as whumpee tries to move. Then whumper draping the string of the key over their neck to taunt their captive or slipping it into their pocket out of sight.
• Handcuffs, collars, and shackles that lock automatically once snapped shut. Too quickly restrained to struggle, no chance to fight back.
• Alternatively, restraints that require to be locked manually. Whumpee fights as long as they can. Eventually, whumper gets the restraints around them and soon after jams the key in the hole. Whumpee sags in defeat once they feel the twist and hear the click. They’re stuck now.
• Sci-fi locks that require a fingerprint, passcode, or a keycard.
• New objective: find key/keycard/fingerprint/passcode/etc. in order to escape.
• Locked in a room with a bomb, a monster, poison gas, filling with water, an interrogator, etc.
• Metal gags, muzzles, and masks that lock. Even if their hands are free, whumpee can’t remove the gag to speak. If they escape, they’re mute until they can find a way to get it off.
• Locking whumpee in a room, cell, tower, etc. to prevent them from completing their mission, delivering information, or stoping a crisis.
• Whumper dangles the key in front of their captive’s face before throwing it away or swallowing it. “You’re never leaving this place.”
• Trapped in a lockdown protocol.
• Connecting restraints with padlocks to make whumpee even more immobile: connecting two cuffs around the wrists and/or ankles with a padlock instead of a short chain; lock the chain between cuffs to the chain tethering their neck to the floor, padlock a loose chain to a loop in the floor, wall, or pillar; padlock two people together, etc.
• Smashing a lock with a brick or stone or the butt of a gun. Shooting out the lock (I play Uncharted). Even kicking the door and breaking a weak lock.
• Captive has lock-picks hidden in their hair, mouth, or clothing. They quietly and skillfully pick the lock and escape. Maybe they are caught in the act and there are consequences.
• Magic locks. Only the person who enchanted the lock or the right counter-spell can unlock it.
• Emotions of panic and desperation as a whumpee who hasn’t given up yet pulls at the chains in hopes of finding a weak point. Or defeated acceptance once they hear the final click, knowing they’re stuck.
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z-1-wolfe · 1 month
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anthony…
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galaxygermdraws · 5 months
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Okay but what if in corrupting Skizz he accidentally made impulse ascend making imp have to panic and figure out how to fix it lol
So like. I wasn't GONNA. Draw this. But. You inspired me anon
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Anon congrats you unlocked the non canon route to this AU, aka before Skizz can even FALL he gets caught bc. Ya know he ran away. and because he just got. oh so attached to Impulse. His ex-superiors decide "hey. we can make him like you! Then you don't HAVE to leave him" so uh. Impulse ascends/gets purified and. It is. n o t a fun process he is in s o much pain. Not that it matters anymore, it kinda takes away the ability for a person to have any freedom. So he kinda jus. Is. a Body now. Whatever w a s Impulse is. not a thing anymore. I mean. I'm sure he's somewhere, but he sure as heck ain't in his own body anymore!!
They are BOTH in pain now.
But uh. Yea no Skizz is not the one who makes Impulse ascend, he would never forgive himself if he did that. Cause. He doesn't know if it's reversible or not
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loaflovesdoodling · 5 months
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So, y'know how I always talk about how Ades has these really traumatizing nightmares about being locked in a mental hospital almost every night?? Well, even if the theme does slightly vary between nights, naturally, I thought I'd still describe how they usually go:
(TW: chains, psychiatric ward, gore, angst, trauma)
Somnum Exterreri
Pleiades slowly opened his eyes, everything was blurry and.... sideways? His mind was fuzzy, sounds were muffled, until his vision finally cleared up a bit, but he still didn't have the strength to get up. What the Hell was going on?
He groaned in fatigue and slight aching, when he finally realized the huge trail of golden blood splattered across the ground, coming straight from his head.
The mere sight of the liquid was apparently enough to alarm him, as he, despite his condition, jolted up, now sitting. He placed two of his hands to the side of his cranium, gently rubbing it to explore the source of the pain and bleeding. He exhaled:
"..h..uh..?....h..ow...?.....wh...a...t...?..." his slurred speech sounded out his thoughts.
But before any other questions could come to mind, he was alerted by the steps of two mysterious guards coming towards him. It was then he realized he was in an almost empty cell. The only other things near him were chains and cuffs scattered all across the ground. He didn't know what was going to happen, but, still confused, his mind told him to run. Immediately.
A sense of dread washed over him, as he swiftly got up and tried to make an escape,
One step, two steps, three--
He hit something, someone. A guard held him tight while the other grabbed his hand and sliced the skin bare with an unfamiliar blade. He yelped in pain, but was quickly shut up by a sudden stab in the stomach; he, agasp, could barely manage to stifle whimpers of agony and shock, as the other guard then picked up the sample of blood from his hand with a cotton swab and placed it in a container, before nodding to the other guard and walking away. The latter quickly pushed him back in the cell, making him once again hit his head on the walls, stunning him; they closed the cuffs on his hands, one by one, and wrapped the bigger chain all around his torso, still bleeding from the stab wound. Pleiades was trapped and scared, now chained to the ground, he got up, and was quickly pushed back down. Why was this even happening? His questions were soon answered by the passing of multiple stretches down the corridors. Had he really snapped? Who did he hurt? Where were all the others?? They couldn't possibly have been...
The guard looked down at him in disgust, then said something through the radio device he had in his pocket:
"Yeah, Demigod's locked up. Analyze the blood samples and prepare for lobotomy."
His eyes widened, loud and fast palpitations followed; Ades was terrified. As the guard left the cell, he got back up and pushed his body forward, trying to pry himself free from the fetters and shackles, instead, hurting himself even more. Tears now streaming down his face, he pleaded:
"NO!!!! DON'T LEAVE!!!!! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE!!!!!!! LET ME GO!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
his cries were ignored as he kept on struggling, to no avail.
Pleiades had a sharp intake of air, before coughing out a few sobs and giving in. He bellowed.
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mottinthepot18 · 9 months
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Another commission for the wonderful @i-can-even-burn-salad <3 posting here instead of my whump blog because this is my art blog… I should probably start using it like one lol
Commission sheet can be found here
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bloodycowboyclub · 1 year
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Hangman Adam Page vs Jon Moxley in a Texas Death Match
AEW Revolution (2023)
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whumpinthepot · 1 year
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@febuwhump 2023
Day twenty: knife wound
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August trying to keep the stab wound from getting infected…
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ravenzeppeli · 1 month
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You Dare Disobey Me, Girl? |Silva x Reader Angst|
Warning: brutal spanking, language, nudity, humiliation, sexual themes/discussions, physical abuse.
      Silva stood in front of you, his huge 6'6 form towering over you like a skyscraper, his blue eyes hard and menacing, body ripped with muscles. He made you feel so small and fragile- he could tear you apart if he wished.. that was the exciting part about working here- the rush of always being just so close to death. "I don't like when you act out Y/N, I found you nine years ago trusting you and taking you under my wing. Treating you as my own. Why would you dare to break my trust? Look at you now, in deep shit."
       You were completely naked, humiliation being apart of the punishment as your hands were tied above. You looked up at the metal bar, a sigh escaping your lips as you studied the rope. "I wasn't breaking your trust, I was just overwhelmed that you wanted Illumi to marry me. I didn't mean to run
away, I was going to eventually come back once I had time to think." You didn't like Illumi at all, he had no personality. You sound much rather marry Milluki, at least he speaks kindly to you.
         "You dare disobey me, girl? In my own damn house, acting so keen about everything. You are going to pay," he snapped, taking his thick leather belt off. He shook his head, silver hair resting on his broad shoulders. "You will marry Illumi and you will have my grandchildren. You knew that I would seek that in you, you knew Y/N. That is why I trained you so brutally for all of these years." His bright blue eyes traced down your body, staring at your womanhood with intensity.
         Your cheeks flushed red at the utter humiliation of all of this, knowing that he stares on purpose to humiliate you. Ever since you turned 20 he had begun a new phase in your punishing.. it was painful and embarrassing but in a way you liked it. The pain that once made you go insane was now turning you on wildly, making you grow wet with anticipation for your beating. "I'm sorry I disrespected you."
        His eyes traced up your body, full focus now on your breasts.  "You're going to be very sorry once I'm done with you. I was generous enough to allow you a warning the first time but that came with a promise that you wouldn't run away again. You broke that, so now I am going to beat your ass. Do you understand me?" He questioned, his black shoes padding against the hard ground, now standing in front of you. The leather belt was at his side, taunting you.
          "Why do you have to stare at me like that? What's the reason of staring at someone you will never have anyways? I belong to your little son, shouldn't he be the one to do this since I'm being forced to marry him?" You questioned, tone sharp.. you quickly regretted smarting off to him by the look in his eyes. Suddenly, you were fucking terrified.. your heart rapidly skipping a beat.
          "I could have you and take you right now if I wanted, my wife and I would use your body up.. separately and together. We would break you and next time we will, rather you are Illumi's wife or not. You will be handled," Silva snapped, slapping his large palm across your face with force, a snap gasp escaping your lips as your legs went weak. If it wasn't for the chains that tied your hands you would have fell to the ground. "You will marry my son and you will have our grandchildren. Or you will have mine, and I won't treat you well. Illumi will, do you see how well I treat my wife? I've never put my hands on her unless she asked."
         You shook your head weakly, "how could I marry a man that I don't love? At least give me more time to love him Silva, he hardly speaks to me. He hates me." You looked down, blood dripping onto the floor in front of you, the left side of your face throbbing. You wanted more.. why couldn't you just marry Silva or Kikyo? Damn it, this sucked.
         "He will be back in a week, you will marry her next day. You had seven years, I refuse to wait any longer. Now it is time for me to punish you," he said, walking behind you, his hand resting on your back. "He will learn to love you and he is willing, I already asked him and he said that he would treat you well. You will live rich and you will never be out of work. You will have a great life, just as you do now. Stop being stupid, now apologize to me."
           "But what if Illumi wasn't the one that I desire? What if the one I desire is someone else, someone that I owe my life too," you said, staring into his eyes. It was wrong to love Silva, so wrong.. but everything in this world was wrong. You were wrong. "I love you Silva, please let me be with Kikyo and I promise that I will make the both of you happy," you begged, tears falling down your face. You haven't cried in so long. "I love you so much, please love me back."
           Your desperate and lonely heart clung yo both him and Kikyo those seven years ago and you've been in love with Silva and slowly falling in love with Kikyo ever sense. You usually spent every waking moment with Silva.. how could not fall in love with him? It was impossible to avoid, now you are stuck marrying his stupid son who has the personality of a fucking plank. That was why you ran, you had to escape all of this but instead of letting you go he had to find you. This just wasn't fair at all.
         Suddenly a whip sound filled the air, the hard leather belt crashing on your ass with such force that it knocked the wind out of you, a loud sob escaping your lips, your legs trembling. The motion repeated two more times, the two harsh smack causing your entire body to tremble, a harsh burning sensation lighting your ass on fire. Again. Again. Again. He wasn't letting up, leaving your confession unanswered as he beat you, a low grunt escaping his lips.
         "W-why?" You sobbed out, your legs finally collapsing and giving out. You were hanging by your hands, that being the only thing keeping you up. Despite how uncomfortable it was you couldn't stand.. you were in too much pain as the leather whoosh began to attack your spots.
          "I don't love you in that way, Kikyo and I love you but we have no romantic feelings towards you. Illumi does and he is who you will be with- a man your age. He's my son, if you love me then you can love him," spoke Silva, continuing to harshen his blows. You felt the welts forming on your ass, the bruises that wouldn't heal for a month.. this was your reality. "Apologize and I'll stop. You're bleeding, it is only going to get much worse for you." 
          "I-I apologize!" You cried out, causing the leather belt to finally drop. You sobbed, entire body now shaking.. it hurt so bad, your ass throbbing, hands cramping.. you shouldn't have said anything. You should have never ran away.. you knew that this was bound to happen sometime.
          "Good, I'll come let you go and clean up in a few hours. For now just think about rather you want to wear white or another color next week. Perhaps red, it compliments you" he muttered, walking out the door and leaving you alone to suffer in pain.. just as he always did.
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pricklymuffinzzzzz · 2 months
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Spectra Stimboard
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Chapter XXVIII - The Crow and the Dove
CW: beating, knives, knives wounds, sadism, mention past non-con, compulsion, blood, abuse, collar, chains, scars, captivity, food denial, death threats, mention of past torture, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, public humiliation, mention of past main character death, muzzle, gore (undeads eating human flesh, not explicit but gore described), hair pulling as Kyriel's favourite past time
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In the end, Kyriel did bring Kai to dinner. More than one hour later than he’d originally planned to, after he’d thoroughly beaten the boy to an inch of his life - the angel pushing his prisoner to his knees, wrenching his head back by the hair, and carving out every inch of him he could reach with that same cursed blade Kai had hoped to stab him with. Ordering him to be still, cooing at him not to move, to open that pretty mouth of his-
Kai’s only defiance was silence, refusing to make a sound beyond choking. The runes blazing on his skin, keeping him caged and meek.
They did get to dinner, though, after it. Albeit late, albeit with Kai limping and bleeding all through the clothes Kyriel did grace him with - the angel making sure he was presentable, even though battered and abused, into fresh black clothes that reminded him of what his pupil uniform had been. The fabric soft and sleek, covering him like a second skin - only the armoured paddings on his shoulders and chest, his knees and sheens, missing from it.
Kyriel chained him again, this time to a rich, lustrous chair, as soon as he had him sitting on it.
“Is that even necessary?” Kai asked, hoarse - the boy tensing, clipped, as his wrists were secured to the armrests. “I’m hardly a threat.”
It came out sour, more raw than he’d intended it to be. His knees still chafed from when Kyriel had forced him down in front of him, the runes pulsing with the aftermath of pain from when they’d held him still. His face bled, the cuts from a cursed knife outside the reach of his healing.
The angel only chuckled, looming tall over him.
“Now, don’t you be silly,” the monster smiled, fingers testing the manacles to his pupil’s wrists. Irons, again, no longer pretty jewels to wear in bed. “You are always a threat.”
Kai swallowed, not knowing what to say that wouldn’t make him scream.
The boy turned his head to the side, letting his eyes wander to the room. Looking for the beauty, looking for something to focus his mind on like he’d done thousands of times in the dungeon underground - trying to ignore the oppressive presence of his murderer, his captor, at his side. Kai oh so polished and pretty, white hair tidily brushed back behind his ears, heavy bags under his silver eyes. The collar, the hated thing the angel had marked him with, unmovable around his throat.
He couldn’t say, at least, that even this part of his prison wasn’t pretty again. Kyriel having many faults, but lack of taste and funds clearly not one of them - the Dusk Room a large, exquisitely decorated windowless hall with tall ornate ceilings and walls covered with heavy, golden mirrors flanked by one Fallen each. Kyriel’s guard fully armoured, in black and golden finery matching the hall’s decor - the golden plates and onyx cutlery alternating with crystal goblets, laid over a perfectly ironed white tablecloth, covering a large table dominating the length of the space.
Kyriel stood next to the seat at the head of the thing, Kai chained to the tall chair to his left. 
“I assume it will be an awkward captivity then, Magister,” Kai swallowed, fixing his gaze to an indefinite point on the wall. “Will you hand-feed me for the rest of our eternity?” He sneered, pointedly glancing at the golden plate in front of him - at the lack of knives among the cutlery within his reach, even though Kai knew twenty different ways to kill a man with a fork and spoon both. “Again,” he mused, “not much of a weapon I am going to be like this.”
He hated the flinch, the unmistakable trained reaction that went through him, as Kyriel gently seized his chin to turn his gaze back towards him.
“My sweet, my pupil, my darling,” the angel purred, low, “are you going to put that attitude in check on your own, or do I need to assist?” He cocked his head to the side, smiling in that horrible, smug, hungry way of his. “You only have to tell me, if you don’t want to breathe.”
Kai’s face twisted - the memory of the dungeon, of the living grave Kyriel had locked him in, making a broken, traumatised part of him begin to scream inside his head. The altar, his wings-
“Why don’t you order me, Magister,” he hissed, fingers tightening around the wood of the armrests - the boy grabbing at the fury inside his chest, growling not to let his voice shake. “You seem awfully comfortable with getting what you want regardless of consent.” He swallowed, silver eyes flashing in caged, pointless rage. “I don’t see why you must toy with the pretence of giving me a saying about it, sir.”
He did manage not to flinch this time, to keep himself still when Kyriel tightened the hold on his chin. When the angel lowered himself to close the distance between their faces - his breath mingling with his prisoner’s, black eyes bearing into his.
“Oh, but I do like to see you trying, sweet,” the monster whispered, holding Kai’s face still - the boy chained, at his mercy, once again. “Trying to hold yourself in one piece. To keep it together.” He smiled, slow and cruel, giving the boy a one-over that made Kai’s skin crawl. “Besides. Where would the fun be if I just forced it?”
Kai watched his torturer with disgust, repressing the instinct to jerk his head to the side. The instinct to spit in his captor’s face - knowing full well the pain that would entail, what awaited him if he dared.
“Of course, Magister,” the boy whispered instead, barely above a breath. He kept himself perfectly still, not even letting a muscle twitch. “As you wish.”
Kyriel smiled, smug, patting his prisoner’s cheek. 
“That’s right, sweet” he mused. “I am glad to see that something does get into that thick skull of yours, if one hammers with enough insistence at it.” His smile warmed an inch, Kai shuddering as his torturer let go of him. “But enough of this now.” The angel straightened, turning towards the doors, bringing his hands together and clapping loudly at the guards to their sides. “Let our guests in, please.”
The two Fallens obeyed as one, the undeads moving to open the two white, massive stately doors wide. The wood groaning, pulling inwards to the corridor behind.
Kai tensed in his seat, irons tight around his wrists, as he beheld the small crowd awaiting on the other side.
They were richly dressed, all ten or so of them. The table in the Dusk Room set for twelve, including Kyriel and himself - the men, for of course they were all men but one, slowly coming into view as they streamed into the hall. Fallens all, undeads who willingly drank Kyriel’s blood to be raised as immortals under his command - the creatures bowing their heads to their master, graceful in submission and salute both, as soon as they crossed the threshold. Their red undead eyes, of various shapes and forms for Kyriel did not discriminate when taking followers to his cause, trailed towards Kai next - clocking his chain and his clothes, the pallor of his skin and the collar around his throat. A mix of curiosity, fear and hunger washing over him like oil on skin.
Kai glared back at them, setting his jaw. His silver eyes flashing, bright and swirling - windows to the immortal, caged power within.
There was Vasilije, dressed in battle attire, pale and with black light armour covering his shoulders and chest. The governor of Ispania, tall and broad-shouldered and wearing a purple robe embroidered in gold, watching him like a reptile would - cold, unblinking, and absolutely nonplussed by the threat in Kai’s gaze. The Master of Coins, a sombre man with onyx skin and too many golden rings on his fingers, following suit with a closely guarded expression on his face - one of the few, Kai knew, who permanently resided in the Tower and would not return to their seat once the assembly was over. The governors of Acquetane, of Lechia, Freislend and Gaulle - the central regions at the core of Kyriel’s lands, came next after the man, all wearing various layers of tunics and mantels and furs, Kyriel’s emblem purple and blazing on their chest. The only woman of the group, a golden skin beauty with sharp features and coiled red curls who, Kai recognised with a shudder, was Kyriel’s Eastern Commander of War, closed the procession together with the Keeper of the Tower - a youthful Fallen who bowed all too gracefully to his master, red eyes crinkling in the light as they fell onto the boy chained to the chair next to his lord.
Kai’s jaw tensed, the boy forcing himself to keep a tight leash on himseld in front of that crowd. The members of Kyriel’s Empirial Council, the most powerful of his Fallens and his closest advisors - those that governed the day-to-day of his Empire, that enforced his rule. Kai having personally tried to kill at least half of them twice, and murdered a couple of their predecessors in their post, if he recalled well - a cut the snake’s head kind of strategy, assassinations before Kyriel had started to use them as bait to lure him into a trap he had anyway eventually fallen in.
But then the last member of the group came through the door. And Kai forgot his caution, forgot his reserve, as Alaric walked into the hall.
The boy stood, the chains yanking at his wrists. He snarled, the governors’ flinching back as one-
Kyriel yanked him down on his seat, his magic wordlessly grabbing at his collar and pulling him back to sit.
“And that, pupil darling, is why you need the chains,” the fucker mused, holding him still. He grabbed the back of Kai’s nape, painfully yanking his head to the side. “Behave.”
The boy growled, the runes activating on his skin. The compulsion burned under his clothes, wrapping tightly around his lungs - searing, forcing him to heed.
“I hadn’t realised you’d developed the habit of dining with swine, Magister,” Kai sneered, slightly out of breath. He wheezed painfully through gritted teeth, yanking at his chains. “I can’t say I approve.”
The angel pulled his head further back by the hair, exposing his throat to the crowd.
“Careful, love” Kyriel murmured, low. “What did I say about that attitude of yours?” He clicked his tongue, pointing his chin towards the men standing still to the side of the table, the Fallens watching warily as he dominated his prisoner - Kai’s caged power flashing under his skin, the net that entrapped him coming to the surface like spiderwebs made of silk. “Do you need a public reminder of what happens when you misbehave?”
Kai shivered, fear and humiliation making him flush. 
“No, Magister,” he whispered, hoarse. “Thank you.”
Kyriel smiled, oh so sweet.
“Mmm, that’s what I thought.” The monster turned the boy’s head to the side - gently, so fucking gently - so that Kai could look at the Council to his front. “Why don’t you apologise to the Prince then, love?”
Kai’s face twisted, hate acid and familiar in his mouth. 
The boy lifted his eyes, wrists chained to the chair. The collar stark around his throat, his clothes tight and sleek over his too thin, too pale form - the boy moving deliberately slow, silver eyes meeting Alaric’s gaze in front of them on the other side of the hall. The man, the hated traitor that had caused Ashe’s death, that had delivered him to this fate, watching him stiffly and awkwardly from where he stood, dressed in his house’s colouring - the silver lining over the black, the furs of his mountains catching the candlelight.
Kai wished he could rip him apart, make him feel at least an inch of the pain his betrayal had caused him so far.
“Apologies, Alaric,” the boy drawled, sweet. “The comparison was unfair to the swine.”
The governor of Ispania barked a laugh, the rest of the Council tittering behind Alaric’s back. The man, the only human of the group, turning a lovely shade of crimson at that - looking at the boy as if he wished to strike him, to slap him hard-
He didn’t dare come close to Kyriel though, the angel looming possessive over him. Even though he, too, couldn’t quite repress a smirk.
“Oh, you are a terror.” The monster chuckled, letting go of Kai’s hair - a hint of pride, of dark amusement, in his eyes. “I did warn you though. That sharp tongue is getting muzzled before it cuts someone.” He snapped his fingers, the familiar, heavy metal contraption appearing in his hands next. “Come here.”
Kai’s resistance was barely perfunctory, the boy snarling and twisting in his chains - knowing full well he had no meaningful way to stop the angel from silencing him if he wished it. The compulsion even stopping him from jerking his face away - his body seizing, leaning forward an inch, to let Kyriel fasten the thing on his mouth, when he snapped his fingers at him.
Kai swallowed down the humiliation, the familiar feeling of powerlessness at being declawed, deprived of his voice.
The angel proceeded to order his Council to sit at the table next, calling for the slaves to bring the dinner in. Kai doing his best not to move, to maintain whatever dignity was left to him when he was collared and chained in such a public way - even when there was a part of him that knew this could be worse, could be infinitely worse, for at least he was dressed and sitting rather than half naked on his knees. The boy trying not to make a sound, even when the muzzle forced his mouth open with a bite in between his teeth - the cuts on his face glinting red in the candlelight, savage and untamed, Kai trying to keep his back straight not to lean with his wounds against the chair.
The boy was grateful for the muzzle, for the heavy thing covering his nose and muffling the scent of the meal, when the courses began to come in. As the starters were laid on the table, the menu catered to the tastes and needs of the undeads - as the first portion of children’s hands was laid on the plates, the things so impossibly small, toddler-like, they made Kai’s stomach roll. The fingers roasted and crispy on the outside while the inside remained bloody to be picked out like the flesh of a crab - the members of Kyriel’s Council smiling, pleased, before digging in while laughing during the meal. An open ribcage filled with freshly harvested organs coming as the main plate next, the thing overflowing with fresh human hearts, livers and lungs from what must have been at least six of seven different victims slaughtered for this meal alone - the poor fucker to whom the ribs had once belonged to having been gorged of his insides and everything below the hips, his head still fresh and preserved even though with a golden, silked blindfold on his eyes, an apple in between his teeth hiding his dying scream. Floating eyeballs, served in delicate flutes filled with champagne, accompanying the meal-
Kai was grateful his plate was left empty all along, Kyriel and Alaric being served some normal meat and mead, even though the latter could visibly barely eat.
“So, Prince,” the angel drawled, after the desserts had started to come through - a bone marrow sorbet served in children’s skulls, paired with more bland pastry with whipped cream for Alaric and himself - “As the newest member of this Council, I feel obliged to ask you about the state of your standing guard. What would you say are the exact numbers of the forces still under Berne’s command?”
Kai stiffened, feeling the attention of the room shift, razor-sharp, towards the man sitting to his front.
“Majesty,” Alaric straightened in his seat, voice carrying in the hall. “Even after separating ourselves from the coalition, Berne commands seven thousand men strong. This includes standing forces and the currently contracted militias, as well as the auxiliary peasantry that was trained in the past year.”
Kai’s brain ticked, his mind flashing with the vision of Berne’s capital - the city where he had spent the past three years with Ashe, living in Alaric’s halls, forever fixed in his memory. How beautiful it had been, how peaceful, surrounded by the sharp whiteness of the Alps all around-
“Mmm.” Kyriel leaned back, eyeing the man at his side. “And counting the reserves, Alaric?” 
“Ten thousand, Majesty.”
The boy forced himself to remain perfectly still, his face a mask of stone. The vision of the city, of the stone fortifications and castled walls, filling with people in his mind.
Kyriel’s eyes flickered towards him, a small smile on his lips. 
“Is it true?” He asked, soft.
Kai stiffened, the compulsion sinking its claws in his brain at the command. The order to speak and to tell the truth, all the truth and nothing but the truth, seizing him whole-
The boy whimpered, wordless, as his head shook despite his best efforts to hold still.
Alaric made an outraged sound of protest, the entitlement covering the fear in the same way as Kai grabbed at his fury when he needed to keep himself afloat. 
“Majesty!” He cried, snarled at Kai chained to his front. “You cannot trust the boy. He is hardly impartial-”
Kyriel only smiled, watching the mounting horror fill Kai’s silver eyes in front of him. The boy paling, chained and stiff, realisation dawning on him.
The compulsion burned hotter, the runes blazing, as the angel winked at him.
“Oh, I do trust my pupil darling to speak true, Prince,” the monster drawled, reaching towards his prisoner. The room quieting, the Council members holding themselves perfectly still, raptured attention snaking over their master - the angel seizing Kai’s chin in his hand, tipping his head up. “You know better than to try to lie to me now, don’t you sweet?”
Kai flinched, repressing the whimper lodged in his throat. He growled, fingers digging in the armrests of his seat.
Horror, fresh and anew, filled him as his head moved to nod against his will once more.
Kyriel laughed, low, letting him go.
“Excellent.” The monster smiled, smug, snapping his fingers at him - the muzzle on the boy’s face disappearing into thin air, Kai gasping softly in relief. “Elaborate then,sweet.”
The boy set his jaw, nausea filling him.
He tried. He did try, pushing all his battered, exhausted will against the compulsion forcing him. Tried to resist, to keep quiet and still - for Alaric might have betrayed him, might have sold him out into a nightmare, but Kai wasn’t a snitch. The revenge was his, and he would take it - but he wasn’t going to put the Prince’s civilians, the innocent men, women and children that had welcomed him and Ashe both, in danger for it-
The runes scorched him, snatching a whimper out of his lips.
“He is not counting the women,” the boy blurted, breathless, after a too short beat. “Nor the Grivarns, Alvaerns and Montarvectribes.” He whimpered. “He does not command them, but they have a standing treaty of mutual support. They- They share the mountains-”
Kai moaned, his throat burning as he tried to stop. He folded over himself, panting hoarse - a soft whine escaping his clenched teeth, his fingers clawing at his constraints. The runes searing on his flesh, hidden from view - his dark clothes concealing the cage over his skin.
“Oh, put yourself together, Kai, before I give you a real reason to scream,” the angel threatened, casual, leaning back in his seat. “How many?”
The boy flinched, stiffening in pain. He lifted his head an inch, looking at his torturer with distilled hate - his silver power, caged and swirling, flashing savage behind his eyes.
“I don’t know,” Kai snarled. He straightened, the compulsion slowly pulling him up and forcing him to sit straight. “I rather unfortunately never had the pleasure to count them, Magister. Lacked the time, somehow.”
He winched, crying out in pain and surprise, as the angel backhanded him on the face.
Kyriel’s fingers were harsh, familiar and brutal, as they grabbed him by the hair. Pulling, forcing him to yield.
“If you want to play this game the hard way, by all means, love, do go ahead,” the angel smiled, feral, reaching out to grab his steak knife on the side of his plate. He lifted it up, Kai stiffening in his chains, the blade cold and sharp as it lay against the boy’s throat. “Want to give me an estimation of the numbers of these tribes, sweet? One based on the best of your knowledge?”
And so the rest of the evening advanced like so, the angel interrogating the new member of his Council with the information he had Kai fact-check to his side at the point of a knife. The boy doing his best not to speak, to claim ignorance when he didn’t have certainty of the truth he spoke - for, after all, that was the only thing the compulsion forced him to disclose. The truth, all the truth, nothing but the truth - and as long as he hadn’t seen things with his own eyes, as long as he hadn’t seen and trusted the report, hearsay wasn’t truth in his books. Neither was gossip, nor rumours, even though intelligence was made of those. Even when the angel activated the runes when he thought Kai was defying him, even when he did sink his knife in his leg, shoulder and chest - even then, Kai resisted him, snarling and hissing when he wasn’t screaming. The boy turning to sarcasm when he dared to, deflecting questions with questions and threats with humour, until Kyriel’s Council was howling with tears in their eyes and even the angel’s hold in his hair had softened an inch.
“Alright, Kai, very clever. I understand you don’t know this, but if you were to advise me? The best advice, on the basis of all the information you have?”
“I’d suggest you to stop fighting, Magister. Wars are bad for business and the well-being of civilians. Make a treaty. Start trading.”
“Very funny.”
Alaric, turned out, had however no qualms in disclosing the secrets of the coalition when the line of questioning did not involve himself and his resources. And Kai realised, for the first time, why Kyriel hadn’t needed to interrogate him once in all those months they’d spent in the dungeon underground - not when he had his spy at the heart of the coalition itself, when Alaric had been pretending to be a loyal member of the principates until one week earlier, when Kyriel’s forces had inflicted a mortal wound to the southern front and advanced deep in the Balkans and the Italic peninsula itself.
It was at that point that the boy started feeling a lot less sympathetic towards the Prince and his people, his ears filling with the sound of the slaves Kyriel must have refilled his camps with. Of the blood shed on the battlefield, the broken castles and cities and people’s homes-
“You are a spiteful, pathetic thing,” Alaric spat, at the end, once Kai had managed to turn the line of questioning from the supply chains of the eastern frontline to the most juicy topic of the multiple and colourful infidelities of the Prince’s wife with the servants in his hall. The Council laughing, more and more, as Kai made a mockery of the human they’d been forced to accept in their ranks.
“And you are a fool,” Kai shot back, exhausted - the boy leaning back with a wince against his chair. “Don’t you see there is only one that wins, in all of this?”
He stiffened, too tired to even let a flinch run through him, as Kyriel gently reached forward to pinch his cheek.
“Now, that sounded dangerously like a lesson well learned, sweet.” The monster grinned, pushing a hand against Kai’s thigh - the boy tensing, his torturer’s fingers trailing the inside of his legs, squeezing possessively at his flesh. “Are we finally learning what is best for us, darling mine?”
Kai shuddered, expression twisting in disgust.
“You’ll get what you want, Magister,” he whispered, hoarse. “Not much point fighting it.”
He didn’t realise the importance of what he’d said, what it meant, before he caught the eyes of the governor of Ispania. The Fallen watching him like a hawk, impossibly still, red eyes glinting like rubies at him. The whole of Kyriel’s Council, all ten of them, having fallen perfectly silent once again.
Kyriel’s squeezed Kai’s thigh once more, possessive and smug.
“See, I did tell you,” the monster drawled, low, reaching to grab his wine. “He could be cracked.”
They all raised their goblets in acknowledgement at that. And Kai, terrifyingly, didn’t even want to snarl.
Previous - next - masterlist
@badthingshappenbingo: chained to a chair, original fic
Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @forthetaintedsorrow-whump @flowersarefreetherapy @sunshiline-writes @enigmawritesstuff
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whumpberry-cookie · 2 years
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Awkward Villain trying to do comfort
(Cw: character kept hostage, chains, mention of mind control, poison)
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Villain: "So... Er.... How you doing?"
Hero: "I'm doing great- HANGING IN CHAINS THE SECOND NIGHT IN A ROW! LET ME GO YOU PSYCHO!!!!"
Villain: "Why calling the names, I was just trying to be nice"
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Villain: "So... I'm giving you Hero back. I reflected"
Teammate: "You... What?"
Villain: "I reflected. You know: the whole kidnapping thing seems to be... slightly wrong now as I think about it"
Hero: "when exACTLY IT SEEMED TO BE RIGHT?!!!"
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Hero: "WAIT! YOU NEVER REALLY WERE UNDER A MIND CONTROLLING CHARM?!"
Villain "Nooope. I just spontanically wanted to be a good guy, but you obviously wouldn't believe me. So I played to make you trust me"
Hero: "PLAYING WITH US ISN'T MAKING YOU THE GOOD GUY"
Villain: "Oh, but yelling like a maniac makes you?"
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Villain: "Wow. Just Wow. After all your dramatic monologue I really want to hug you bro"
Hero: "Like... Hug me with a knife?"
Villain: "Is that how you do it in your homeland...? I mean- I can do that. Is that a culture thing?"
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Villain: "For the last time. I did NOT poison your tea. See?" drinks from Hero's cup.
Hero: "....I'm not drinking from the same cup you drank"
Villain: "Take mine then, I didn't drink from it yet"
Hero: "...."
Villain: "......"
Hero: "..........."
Villain: "Oh for f#ck sake I didn't poison this one either!"
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justmwahstruly · 6 months
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very old mathilda drawing (before her kind of redesign)
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(I CHOSE HER NAME. LETS GO)
and i coloured her in (at least, most of her skin and eyes. but her hair doesn’t require colour! It’s a shiny silvery white! her eyelashes too!)
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i do love drawing her eyelashes… so pretty…
that IS a scar on their shoulder! (thank you for noticing) she is trauma
LORE DUMP BEWARE (tw abuse, human experimentation, needles)
She chose the name Mathilda for herself! She vaguely remembered a lullaby using her name, so that’s what she decided to call herself.
When I say she chose her name, I mean that she didn’t have a real name before. They were a simple test subject, an experiment. Injected with different chemicals, DNA, blood, you name it. At that point, the scientists were trying anything and everything they could to see if she would be affected. They weren’t at all affected by seemingly anything. When it was dna or blood of an animal, she wouldn’t undergo any physical changes, but she wouldn’t behave as well as usual. She would be a bit rabid, running around and knocking things over, attacking people at least a few times. Then they began to chain them before injecting them. They would scream and cry and sob when they would approach them with the shackles, for they knew what was going to happen soon. Once, she did get away from the chains, but it was as the needle was in her skin already. This caused it to drag through her skin, and made a deep cut. That’s the scar you see on her shoulder. This may have injured them, but they didn’t care. They were just trying to run away. She ended up tripping, and got up quickly. She bumped right into a doctor, who helped her get away. She doesn’t remember them, but she knows she’ll be forever grateful to them.
She doesn’t like her hair either! She hates how it gets so dirty, she says, even though it always seems like it’s spotless. They get extremely freaked out when they see anyone in a hospital related uniform, for thats what they saw people wear at the place they lived for most of their early life. She is aware they aren’t the people, but she still sometimes lets out a small impulsive cry if they walk towards her. After all these years, they’ve learned to keep theirself MOSTLY composed.
wee lore dump OVER
hope you guys like her!
(dotty wanna steal them for ATC try and find a way for them to fit/j/unless)
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shaykai · 2 years
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Cradles is a fantastic song for Astarion, have some doodles
Cannot wait until BG3 is fully released and I can take bestie to go murder the ever loving hell out of Cazador
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null-whump · 1 year
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HELLO everyone I did not edit this AT ALL and I am in SEVERE PAIN but by GOD I finished it and here it is for you to read!! and enjoy!! and comment on!!!!! and maybe the next update won't take so fucking long!!! great!!!!!!
(it was also supposed to be longer than this but I know that if I put it off anymore it'll be two months before I post anything at all)
Ace and Hunter Masterlist
Warnings: Forced domesticity, collaring/muzzling, mentions of past torture, abuse, brief strangulation/choking, restraints
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Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Why did people say ‘tick-tock’ for a clock sound? All Ace could hear was the same tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, over and over and over and over. Maybe some clocks were different than others. Maybe Hunter’s clock was just boring.
Your clock. You picked that one out, remember?
Ace clenched his jaw.
Remember? You said you wanted an old clock that you could wind up that would chime on the hour, so you went to an antique shop and found that one. Remember? Remember how you picked it because you thought Hunter would like the little wooden bird carving on the top?
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“This is stupid,” Ace muttered.
The sound of his own voice startled him. It had been so silent in the house, all day, while he waited for Hunter to get home from work. It didn’t help that he was chained to the floor in the living room, just out of reach of any furniture. He had been there since eight in the fucking morning. He had tried to keep his mind occupied. Ace had learned the first time that Hunter left him chained down that trying to pull the chains free was useless and would only make his hands hurt. He also learned that pacing in the very little room that he could made the cuffs chafe at his ankles. He didn’t stop though, because day after day after day of mind-numbing boredom made him prefer any distraction.
Distraction from the manacles around his legs, distraction from the injuries burning and itching under the bandages, distraction from the collar digging into his throat –
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
That stupid fucking clock. Ace glared at it. 4:56, it told him, unfazed. That meant Hunter would be home soon. Then he would unchain Ace from the living room and chain him back up in the kitchen where he would make dinner and then if he was lucky, Ace would get half a meal from the scraps Hunter served him from his plate. Then Ace would clean up dinner and Hunter would do whatever the fuck Hunter did until he decided to put Ace back in the basement for the night. At least he had a blanket now. And a pillow – and Hunter had started leaving the chains off two weeks ago.
Ace nearly laughed. He had been sleeping in a basement for nearly two months. But hey, at least he had a fucking blanket.
The clock whirred and began chiming for 5 o’clock. Ace sighed. At least he knew that Hunter wouldn’t take out his knives today. He always gave Ace at least two days of rest between ‘sessions’, and yesterday Hunter had been…more enthusiastic than usual. Ace shuddered at the memory, the bandaged wounds on his arms flaring up. He could probably count on three days, maybe four. As long as he didn’t fuck up a rule or something.
Ace heard the door swing open and scrambled to his knees. The burst of adrenaline that accompanied the sound of Hunter’s footsteps made his heart race, no matter how many times he heard it. Ace placed his hands on his knees and took a deep steadying breath as Hunter entered the room.
‘Just say it, you’ve said it dozens of times, it doesn’t mean anything it’s just words it doesn’t make you weak it’s just a part of surviving –’
“Welcome home, sir.”
Hunter reached down and ruffled his hand through Ace’s hair. “How was your day, raindrop?”
‘The same as it always is, fucker.’
“It was fine, sir.”
“Really?” Hunter smiled. “You weren’t bored, then?”
‘You fucking know I was.’
“…A little, sir.”
Hunter made a ‘hmm’ sound in the back of his throat. He hooked his finger under Ace’s collar and tugged on it, pulling Ace to his feet.
“How would you like me to start leaving you unchained while I’m away?”
Ace’s heart skipped a beat. “I – I would like that, sir.”
Hunter leaned down until his face was inches away from Ace, who struggled to keep from flinching back. “Really? You wouldn’t take the opportunity to try to run away, then?”
Ace’s mouth was dry. “N-no, sir.”
A blatant lie, of course. And yet, Ace dared to hope that Hunter would believe it. He had been so good lately, so carefully, painfully obedient, all for the tiniest chance that Hunter would give him enough freedom to escape. He only needed a little bit, a tiny bit of leeway, just enough to contact someone – Fay, the police – anyone, really, and this nightmare would be over.
Hunter tilted his head. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Ace? Do you really think I can’t tell when you’re lying to me?”
“I – I wasn’t –”
Hunter’s hand was around Ace’s throat faster than he could blink, and the rest of his sentence was cut off as he was forced to struggle for air.
“Why don’t you think very carefully about your next words,” Hunter said softly. “I’m giving you every opportunity to do the right thing, Ace. Don’t be an idiot.”
His grip loosened minimally, enough for Ace to take in a thin breath of air. Enough for him to speak. Ace’s head spun. What was worse? To lie, when Hunter would never believe him, or to tell the truth and face whatever punishment Hunter decided to dole out?
“I…” Ace faltered, barely able to get any sound past the fear clogging his throat. He steeled his nerves and made his decision. “I – I lied,” he choked out. “I’m…I’m sorry, sir.” His stomach twisted with the knowledge that he was giving Hunter exactly what he wanted, but he was almost too afraid to care.
Hunter let go of Ace’s throat, and he nearly fell forward, gasping in relief.
“Rule number one,” Hunter said, and Ace shivered at the unsettling calmness of his voice.
“…Don’t lie to you, sir.”
Hunter considered him for a moment. “I’m going to show you exactly how useless it would be to try to run, but first…” he lowered the bag slung over his shoulder and reached into it. “I had a feeling I would need this today.”
He pulled out his hand, and with it, a black cloth contraption that flashed with metal clasps. Ace’s pulse skyrocketed, because he knew immediately what it was. Hunter smirked at the panic evident on Ace’s face.
“W-wait – please, I’ll be quiet, don’t –”
Hunter silenced him with a slap across his face, hard enough to make Ace’s eyes water. “Quit complaining, unless you want it to stay on longer.”
Ace flinched and shut his mouth. He forced himself to stay still, aside from his trembling, while Hunter secured the muzzle around his face. It wasn’t that the muzzle was even the worst punishment Hunter could dole out, and Ace knew, logically, that he should be grateful he wasn’t getting something worse. It was the awful, unavoidable humiliation of wearing that thing on his face, and Hunter’s insufferably smug face looking down at him like he was a fucking dog, that made Ace want to shrivel up and die.
But he had stopped fighting it, because he knew better now. He knew what happened when he fought Hunter, just like he knew what happened when he tried to take the collar off, and he knew what happened when he wasn’t waiting to greet Hunter properly when he returned home each evening. Ace was smarter now, that’s all. He wasn’t fucking afraid.
Hunter undid the restraints around Ace’s ankles and pulled him to his feet.
“Do you think, raindrop, that I would let you wander around the house freely, with no limitations in place?” Hunter asked. As he spoke, he curled one arm around Ace’s shoulders in a too-tight embrace and guided him across the room.
Ace didn’t think Hunter wanted him to respond, and he didn’t want to risk angering him by shaking his head (an act that could too easily be seen as defiance), so he kept still and allowed himself to be pulled to the window, which had curtains pulled across it. Hunter pushed them aside, while keeping Ace well to the side. Not taking any chances on someone seeing him from the street, Ace realized.
“See this?” Hunter drew Ace’s attention to the window, tapping his finger against the glass.
Ace looked, and his heart sank as he felt another little piece of hope for an escape whither away. Inside the window frame had been reinforced with sets of crossing metal bars – inconspicuous enough that they wouldn’t stand out while leaving no room for a person to fit through.
Hunter leaned down so that his mouth was next to Ace’s ear. “All the windows in the house are like this,” he said softly, and his breath on Ace’s skin made his stomach turn. “Every door locks from the outside, and last I checked, I have the only key.” He tightened his grip on Ace’s arm until Ace was sure it would bruise. “Am I forgetting anything, raindrop? Any other way you could sneak your way out of here?”
Even without the question being posed, Ace’s mind was racing to think of something, anything that Hunter had missed, but he was coming up hopelessly short. The house wasn’t very large, and there were only so many ways in or out.
Hunter chuckled lightly. “Didn’t think so.” He finally released Ace’s shoulders and pulled the curtain back in front of the window, cutting off the sunlight. “Now, I’m hungry.”
Tears stung Ace’s eyes and he almost tripped with the loss of Hunter’s support. He stood trembling, trying to regain his wits, for just a moment too long – a cuff to the back of his head from Hunter forced him to stumble forward and shake himself out of his daze.
Dinner was a silent affair. Hunter was gracious enough to remove the muzzle and spare Ace a few scraps of his dinner, and Ace chose to stay quiet in hopes of the muzzle staying off.
His good behavior was rewarded when Hunter stashed the muzzle in a kitchen drawer instead of putting it back on Ace. Then Hunter turned to him with a smile that promised nothing good, and Ace found himself wondering if maybe he’d prefer the muzzle after all.
“Unfortunately, the security cameras I bought are on backorder,” he began. “Luckily for you, I trust my security measures enough to leave you to roam around free while I’m away.” 
Ace tried to ignore the sick feeling that was twisting in his stomach.
“Until they arrive, I’ll expect you to tell me how you spent your day when I return home every night.” Hunter placed a hand on the back of Ace’s neck and began guiding him toward the living room. “Of course, you’ll have limits on where you can go and what you can do, and you’ll be punished if you disobey. I’ll tell you before I leave each morning if you’ll be allowed to eat, and how much, and so on.”
They had reached the couch, and Hunter sat down, pulling Ace down beside him. Ace tensed but managed to force himself not to resist when Hunter gently pulled Ace’s head down to rest in his lap. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore Hunter’s fingers combing through his hair.
“How about we practice?” Hunter said. His hand stroked through Ace’s hair. “Tell me about your day.”
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Tag list! Let me know if you want to be added or removed :)
@whumpshaped @whatwasmyprevioususername @yesthisiswhump @darkwarfy @towhumpornottowhump @villainsvictim @2day4u-2morrow4me @there-will-always-be-blood @onlyhappywhenitpains @wherethehurtis
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A/N — any blank blogs that follow me are going to be reported then blocked. Pick a different profile pic and get a witty header or something.
Part One
They had snuck up on you, whoever had taken you. It had been late at night after a long day of paperwork and they had gotten the drop on you. It wasn’t something you were proud to admit and you just knew that Morgan was going to be demanding that you complete extra remedial training with him.
You knew that you reminded him of his younger sisters — something about the way you acted, the mannerisms that you held had brought to mind his own family back in Chicago. Consequently, he had grown overly protective of you. It wasn’t something that bothered you, alone as you were in DC, and Morgan never let it go so far that you couldn’t do your job, so you welcomed him into your life as an older brother.
And you knew — just knew — that Rossi was going to whisk you away for a ‘vacation’. The hypocrite that he was, he’d demand that you take some time for yourself, set up a nice spa trip or mountain lodge for you…he always acted like he knew how to take a vacation and not just a couple of days off so that he could write his newest book — that was about the criminals he’d caught, thus still thinking about work.
You thought you’d already figured out where Garcia was going to place her tracking charms — she had threatened you with them before, just because you happened to get lost in thought a couple of times while out shopping with her. You didn’t think your actions required such actions. You kept finding her again, eventually, despite your tendency to wander off.
Your thoughts about how the team, your family, would react when they found you were cut off by a sharp yell you let out involuntarily.
A creaking groan had sounded from the area around your ankles and suddenly water started to flood the small cell you were in. It was a slow pour but it was coming from every direction and there wasn’t anywhere to go but up. The only entrance you could see was up and it was covered with a cross-cross metal bar door.
When the water had finally collected enough to hit your feet, you again attempted to jump up enough to reach the bars above you. The water was freezing, quite literally ice cold, and it sent your body into shivers almost immediately.
The only thing stopping you from climbing out of here were the thick and heavy chains attached to your ankles. They had no give to them, locking your feet down nearly completely.
Tilting your head back to help swallow down your tears, you made to crouch down then thought better of it, bending over to roll up your pants. It meant the water would be able to hit your skin more directly but it would also stop it from crawling up your leg prematurely.
And you weren’t going to be in here too much longer anyway. Your team was going to find you soon. You knew they were — they were the best. And they would forget about you.
Please don’t forget about me.
Part Three
@febuwhump
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