another-whump-sideblog

[another-whump-sideblog]

we have all heard about whumpee thinks caretaker is their new owner

but what about:

whumpee who thinks their new owner is a new caretaker

[another-whump-sideblog]

Imagining a scenario where the whumper just. Lets the whumpee go. After all the torture and abuse and starvation, just, being told to leave. The whumper leading them to the door by the chains, then taking them off and telling them to get out of here.

The whumpee being frozen in the doorway. One step away from freedom, but why? Why are they being let go?

[another-whump-sideblog]

Tests pt. 1

chapter got too long so i sliced it in half

Masterlist

[tw medical whump, dehumanisation, captivity, nonhuman whumper, alien whumper, restraints, manhandling, language barrier, multiple whumpers, lady whump, lady whumper]

When Mila next awoke, she found herself sinking into something soft. As her eyes fluttered open, she immediately squeezed them back shut, unable to bear the strong light directed at her face.

“You are awake,” Ky’lanthja said in that eerie voice of its.

Mila tried to shield her eyes, but her hands were secured to the armrests of the chair she was in. That prompted her to open her eyes once more, staring dumbly at the thick, metal bands around her wrists. “What is this? What’s going on?”

“We never conducted the second round of tests. And based on your behaviour back in the drop area, I figured the restraints were needed to be able to proceed without a hitch.”

Okay, she was starting to freak out. “What tests? I don’t want you touching me! And what are those?” she asked, nodding towards a table full of equipment she didn’t recognise. “I don’t want any tests to be conducted! I want to go home!”

“We left Earth’s orbit more than one human hour ago.”

“If you’re here with me, who’s piloting the ship? Shouldn’t you be in the driver’s seat instead of terrorising me?”

Ky’lanthja made a face Mila could only describe as condescending, though with its face so vastly different from hers, maybe that expression meant something else. “The ship is on autopilot. An invention even you as a human should be familiar with, according to my research. But if anything were to go awry, my coworker, Gar’tleen is there to take care of it.”

Oh, jesus christ. There were more of them. “How many of you are there? Huh?”

“Just the two of us. Gar’tleen and I have been travelling the universe together for several human centuries. He is my trusted companion. Although I must say… He was not very enthusiastic about me acquiring a human.”

“Well, Gar’tleen and I are in agreement! I’m not very enthusiastic either!”

Ky’lanthja gave her a look. What that look meant, once again, she had no idea. It looked sort of stern. “I would wager the two of you are in fact not in agreement. He thinks you will cause problems on the ship. I cannot read your feeble human mind, not yet, but I can tell that you are thinking about doing just that. I would advise against it. Gar’tleen is not known for his outstanding patience.”

Wonderful. Just wonderful. “Why would you go behind your coworker’s back and take a human anyway? That’s not a great partnership.”

“He knows I have wanted a human for as long as I have come to know of your planet. That is why I learned the language, through great effort. And why I constructed a human disguise.”

“Well, I’m going to cause problems. Maybe Gar’tleen has the sense to send me back home.”

“He would simply send you flying into space,” Ky’lanthja said casually.

“What?”

“He would not take the time to try and locate the exact place from which we have taken you.” Mila wanted to scream. “That is why I am advising you not to cause trouble. You can either lay low and prove to Gar’tleen that humans as a species are worth keeping around, or you can end up as space debris. Now, for our second round of tests—”

“I want to go home!” she cried. “Just let me go home! I don’t want any of this! I don’t care about some alien’s opinion of our species!”

“If it counts for anything, I think you are simply fascinating.”

“I wish you didn’t! I don’t want this! I don’t want to be examined by you! I’m disgusted! I don’t want you touching me!”

“Would it help if I put on my human disguise again?”

“No! It would help if you let me go home!”

Ky’lanthja stopped in its tracks. It seemed to think for a moment before declaring, “We are going to proceed.”

Mila had little choice in the matter. She watched as Ky’lanthja slathered all four of its hands in a see-through liquid that seemed to turn almost rubbery upon contact with its skin. She assumed it was some sort of alien disinfectant-rubber glove combo — or at least she hoped it was. Surely, Ky’lanthja knew about germs.

“I am going to go from top to bottom,” it said, but just before it could’ve done anything to her, a door to the side opened and another alien strode in. This one was green, with bright red eyes. If Mila had to guess, he must’ve been Gar’tleen.

He immediately launched into what sounded like quite a heated argument. Though Mila couldn’t understand a word, it was clear that he was pissed. Ky’lanthja kept its cool, answering in a calm manner, gesturing to her every now and again.

Mila decided this was a perfect opportunity to try to get out. She tugged on her arm, trying to see if maybe she could wiggle out of the restraints. She’d seen some tutorials on dislocating one’s own thumb to slip out of similar bonds, and she was honestly willing to give it a go if it meant—

“Human,” Gar’tleen suddenly said in English, though with a heavy extraterrestrial accent.

“Her name is Mila Hall,” Ky’lanthja chimed in. He said something to it in their native language that Mila couldn’t understand.

“I know,” Mila said before he could continue. “You don’t want me here. I don’t want to be here either. You’re in charge of piloting the ship right now, right? Maybe you could turn it around and drop me off?”

“He does not speak your mother tongue very well,” Ky’lanthja said.

“Home,” Mila said, in the simplest terms she could. “Home. Please.”

He didn’t seem moved. “Examination? Should be over. Ship? Needs to be out of this solar system. Hurry.”

“I can’t leave the solar system!” God, if they left the solar system… There would really be no way to get back to Earth. “No! No leaving!”

Gar’tleen reached out and grabbed her by the face. “You listen. To Ky’lanthja. She loses interest? You are out. Now, do examination.”

“There is really no need to frighten her,” Ky’lanthja said. “We lost some time because of her passing out, but we will make it up. We can stay in the solar system for a little while longer.”

“Yes, stay in the solar system!” Mila agreed. “Better yet, bring me back to Earth!”

Gar’tleen squished her cheeks even more, telling Ky’lanthja something in their native language.

“You are hurting her,” Ky’lanthja said. “Release her. If you want the examinations to go quickly and smoothly, leave me to my job.”

He narrowed all four eyes at Mila, and she shrank under his gaze. Ky’lanthja wasn’t joking when it — she, apparently… How exactly was Mila meant to tell the sexes apart again? They wore no clothing but their bodies looked like they were cast from the same smooth mold, there was no distinct size difference… A problem for another day — said he didn’t like the idea of her being on the ship.

“Behave,” he grumbled, letting go of her face and stomping out of the room, likely back to the cockpit.

Mila looked at Ky’lanthja, wide-eyed. “So that’s…”

“Gar’tleen.”

“I still think you should just drop me back off. He clearly hates this idea and hates being here. You should just drop me off and fly on out of the vicinity—”

“The tests. We will proceed with the tests.”

Mila deflated. She wasn’t getting away. This was so dumb. Why her? Why couldn’t it be anyone else that the fucking aliens abducted?

Ky’lanthja leaned in, blinking rapidly. “You are leaking water,” she said.

“I’m fucking crying,” Mila sniffled. “You know, that thing we do when we’re fucking sad and terrified and angry? If you’re so fascinated with us, I thought you’d at least know that.”

“Crying,” she repeated, tilting her head to the side. “So that is what it looks like. How curious. I had read accounts of it, but no book ever explained the specifics. Are those, then, tears?”

“Yeah…” Ky’lanthja picked up a vial and pressed it to Mila’s cheek, catching teardrops in it as they trickled down. “Stop that—”

“What if I never get a chance to examine tears again?”

“Oh, I’ll be crying a whole lot, don’t you worry about that.”

Ky’lanthja took away the vial and closed it with a rubbery substance. “If you say so. Though my intention is not to make you sad, or terrified, or angry.”

“I am strapped to a chair in a spaceship and you’re about to ‘examine’ me, whatever that means. How am I meant to feel anything else?”

“Would you like to replenish your water supplies before we start? I have heard it can improve mood.”

“No, it’s… I don’t think a glass of water will solve this.”

“Alright. Commencing second round of tests; finally.”

—

taglist: @whumpsday

[another-whump-sideblog]

📪 and 😎!

- @another-whump-sideblog

📫 Have you changed a significant plot or character choice solely due to your reader's reactions to previous chapters? Are you happy with the result?

I guess I amped up how hot Jack was based off of early reactions to him. In the very beginning he was just this average middle aged man, but now he’s a very fine one, if that makes sense

😎 Pick one thing about your OC and describe it in detail. (their smile, their eyes, the way they walk, their voice, etc.)

Sarah has long, flaxen blonde hair that reaches down to her tailbone. It’s pin straight and is constantly getting in the way. It flows beautifully down her back and it’s her most complimented feature. Her family has to constantly remind her to quit hiding behind it

[another-whump-sideblog]

cult whump because i said so

CW: Cults, implied religious cult, Whumper gets referred to as ‘Father’, but not in a parental way, male Whumper, gender-neutral Whumpee, whips, slightly intimate Whumper (I think?)

…

Whumper paces back and forth in slow strides, each step timed. “Do you know why I called you here, Whumpee?”

“Um, n-no, Father. Why did you call me here?” Whumpee is nervous. Whumper has never openly talked to any of his followers unless it was to scold them. 

They remember once one of the members came out of Whumper’s room a complete and utter crying mess. Whumpee is sure they saw bruises, too. They didn’t question it, only knowing they did not want to end up like that.

He stops, looking over at them with narrowed eyes. “I heard you didn’t come to our last session. You know how important those are, I don’t even need to ask. The question is, why would you skip it?” He leans down, face just a few inches away from theirs.

Whumpee suppresses a nervous whimper. “I– I was busy. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

The man’s eyes search Whumpee for truth, taking in their entire anxious expression. Finally, he leans back away, putting his hands in the pockets of his long robe. “It won’t, hm? You know, dear Whumpee, that’s what one of my followers said, as well. They didn’t keep their promise, they ended up leaving my guidance and will never find The Truth now. I don’t want that to happen to you too.”

The Truth. Whumpee still doesn’t know what that means. They don’t doubt Whumper’s word, but they wish Whumper would tell them what The Truth even means. It’d help make them a little more determined to show up to sessions.

“I’m sorry,” they rasp. They want to add that’d never happen, but they can’t bring themself to. That’s an obvious lie. They know Whumper knows that just as much as they do.

He sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I should be the one who’s sorry. I suppose I gave you too much freedom.” He walks towards his desk, pulling something out from a drawer.

Whumpee’s face pales when they realize what it is. A whip.

“I’m not a violent man, but I can see you’re going through a rebellious phase. Tell me, Whumpee, do you choose your family over us? Your real family?”

“No!”

The whip cracks out, Whumper’s eyes grow colder. “I don’t tolerate lying, I’m sure you’re already aware. You’re new, so how about just ten lashes?”

“Please–”

“Hush, before I make it fifteen. After this, you’ll stop trying to avoid me or the others, right? You’ll stop trying to be independent. You don’t need independence when you have us. We’re all you need.” He cracks the whip so close to Whumpee, they jump and yelp out. “Understand?”

“Please–!”

“I asked if you understood.”

“I…” Whumpee chokes a sob. “Y-yes, Father.”

“Good. Now, kneel.”

[another-whump-sideblog]

Hey, if you don't mind answering I was wondering how long did Sahota know about Vic's plan to make the team take the fall?

oh he doesn't know, but that's how most missions go. Vic knows the details, Vic calls the shots. Sahota listens

[another-whump-sideblog]

Give meeeeeee

Ladies in distress. Bound and gagged. Tortured. Hurt in general.

Ladies being whumped FTW!

Reblog if you have ladies being whumped! 👀

[another-whump-sideblog]

[another-whump-sideblog]

hopeless time loop. the way out isn’t to save everyone. the way out isn’t to save even one person. the way out isn’t to change anything. the way out is accepting how it happened the first time is how it always will be. that’s how you acted, that’s how they acted, that’s how you would have acted every time if you weren’t given the curse of hindsight. the way out is accepting you can’t fix the past; you can only forgive yourself for it.

[another-whump-sideblog]

"Stuck in the timeloop as a punishment" is cool and all, but stuck in the timeloop voluntarily though? Oh, brother. Stuck in the timeloop cause you just can't move on. Stuck in the timeloop even if you know that it's not real and whatever should've happen already did. Stuck in the timeloop even if doesn't makes you happy. You just can't bear the thought of not being able to see them ever again. Stuck in the timeloop even if you know you should move on. Stuck in the timeloop even if you know they would want you to move on.

But maybe just a little while longer.

[another-whump-sideblog]

whumper always tells whumpee that they're just whumpers toy, only a play thing that whumper gives meaning to. So when whumpee's mad at whumper they just go ragdoll. "you wanted a doll you get a doll, bitch,"

[another-whump-sideblog]

Pssst

Hey, are you an artist or writer with WIPs?

Come here... I got a secret for you pssst come ‘ere

[another-whump-sideblog]

Do Jack and Sarah celebrate Christmas? If so, how do they celebrate?

- @another-whump-sideblog

The answer is yes, but the degree to which they celebrate it is a mystery in my mind. I don’t know if they decorate for it or if that’s too obstentacious (that’s a real word right?) or if they even exchange gifts. At the very least, they get together and reflect on the story of Christ’s birth and make a big to-do about that

[another-whump-sideblog]

A whumper who's obsessed w/ Whumpee, but never actually hurts them. (would they still be called "whumper" then? genuine question. or would it basically be caretaker?) Yes, they kidnapped Whumpee but instead of locking them in the basement, they give them a most lavish room in the house. They never force Whumpee to do something they don't want to. Like, their sole purpose of taking Whumpee in the first place is to protect them the best they can. Maybe Whumpee had shit life and prefers Whumper to that. Now imagine if Whumper has to go out of town for a few days and Whumpee doesn't want to be left alone in the massive house, or maybe Whumper doesn't want anyone to break in while they're away, so they contact a friend to stay over a few days. Whumper comes back and something seems a bit off about Whumpee, they question it but don't get an answer and drops the topic thinking maybe Whumpee's just re-adjusting to them being back. A few months pass and Whumper has to go again, THAT'S WHEN IT HAPPENS. Whumpee running to block the door and falling to Whumpers legs, gripping their pants as they sob and beg for Whumper to stay with them. Whumper not needing Whumpee to spell it to understand that "Whumper 2" did something to them. They gently lull Whumpee to sleep, promising to stay before going to sort out the problem......

[another-whump-sideblog]

May I request pet hypnosis but the hypnotist is an eldritch being that’s being ever so gentle with their adorable little human toy, wrapping them in their tentacles and enjoying simple cuddles, please?

You may! I haven’t written tentacles yet so hopefully I do them justice…

The creature stalked its prey, which was cooking, unaware, in the kitchen.

The human sang to itself as it added the sauce to the pan and began stirring.

The creature slinked closer, its thick tentacles stretching to support the silent movement.

Once it was close enough it’s tendrils began to slink slowly around the humans leg and-

“AH!” The human yelped. “Oh my goodness, you scared me.” It laughed.

The monster let out an affectionate noise. Now that it had been discovered the monster twisted its tentacles around the human in an embrace.

“I was wondering where you were. Dinner is almost ready.” The human smiled.

One appendage pushed the human’s hair out of it’s eyes. The human laughed bashfully.

They continued to cook, the comforting pressure of the creature engulfing them. Around the human’s mid section, arms, and thighs. The contact slowly seeping into the human’s mind.

“H-honey… do you mind? You’re making me a little fuzzy…” the human started, eyes slightly unfocused.

The creature lightened its grip, bringing the human back to reality.

“Thank you. Let me just turn off the stove…” the human placed the pan safely off the heat, securing everything, before the creature began constricting once more.

The pressure of being wrapped in tentacles set off a trigger in their mind.

“Okay… I.. um. I’m sure we can… we can reheat that later… dear…” the human melted into the touch, submitting and dropping so easily for the creature.

It supported the human’s neck as it lazily rocked into a comfortable position.

The touch of the creature was instantly calming. A fast-acting off switch for the human’s mind.

The human felt every worry, every annoyance, fade away. The feelings replaced with a relaxed bliss.

The creature happily cradled it’s human, pleased with the hypnotic effect it had on them. In fact, the creature found the human especially cute when it was like this.

The human found such joy in letting the creature, its owner, take over all responsibilities. The human no longer had to consider a schedule or a to do list. It only existed for the creature’s entertainment.

The creature pet the human’s hair as the two snuggled up tightly, and the human drifted into a pleasant trance, to dream of reheated leftovers later…

[another-whump-sideblog]

Total $hit$how: Little White Squares

in which Benji discovers that actually, it is that deep

cw: aftermath of whump, referenced torture, threats

previous // Masterlist //

×~×~×

Lying was something Benji was supposed to be good at. How many times has he taken to the stage, lied to an audience about who he was and what sort of world he lived in? How many times had he skillfully distracted and misled to snag a watch, a wallet, a badge. To let his cohorts sneak past a guard, to save his own neck when he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

He was still alive today because of all his lies, but no matter how scary they'd been in the past, today's prospects were terrifying. Benji had never seen Vic in action and he really didn't want to. Sahota was scary enough, and Sahota actually seemed like a decent guy under the gruff, icy surface. Meanwhile, the more Benji learned about Vic, the more it seemed he was just layer after layer of callous violence. He'd never seen Vic in action, but Vic had trained Sahota. Vic had been doing this for longer than Sahota. And Vic could sit relaxed with a smile on his face while masked goons tortured his second in command.

Lying to Vic felt like cracking an apocalyptic seal. One wrong move, and his life was over. All their lives, really.

“Don't say anything unless he asks,” Kaius had instructed the others in the car. “The less he knows, the better. Don't over-explain, and don't offer details.”

Benji knew that much, but it helped to know someone else was experienced in dancing around the truth.

The four of them decided not to act sneaky while making their entrance. If Vic caught them, they'd be sorta honest about it; we met Finley. We came back anyway. Fortunately for Benji’s nerves, they didn't encounter anyone on the way in, making it all the way to the kitchen without an incident. It had still been pitch black outside when they came in, probably early enough that everyone at the compound was still asleep. Hopefully. What if he didn't have to lie at all? What if they got away with it?

He muffled a yawn with his palm as Joy flipped on the kitchen lights. Man, he was tired, and there was no end in sight. His anxiety would probably keep him awake throughout the day, but tonight they'd have to bounce again, maybe drive all night to put enough distance between them and Vic. Would he ever sleep again? And if he did, where would he sleep again? He'd been gone for nearly two months when Vic gave him this offer, no way was his old crew still at the usual hideout if they were still together at all. Maybe he could crash at Joy's place. Or Kaius's. They had to have apartments or something, right?

It was a problem he didn't have the luxury of having just yet, but it was easier to think about a crowded crew sleepover than worry about Vic. 

Benji filled the electric kettle with water as Jericho fished out the instant oats, picturing the four of them—or five, or maybe even six—crammed in some studio apartment. He hoped they could all stay together, just for a little while. Hang out and be a group without Vic hovering over them. If they got into late night gossiping and fell asleep in a heap on the floor, would Sahota join them? If he didn't have to look over his shoulder for Vic’s approval? If he didn't have to worry about the next mission?

He could only hope. If they got that lucky, Benji would put his shitty cooking skills to the test and make Sahota his chana dal. If he couldn't get him to crack a smile at the meal itself, maybe he could get him laughing at how much of a failure his attempt would be.

“Shit, someone's coming,” Joy whispered, pulling the plug on his fantasy, and Benji nearly dropped his plastic bowl of oats. Okay. Deep breath. Lights down, curtain up, five, six, seven, eight.

“Have a nice trip?” Vic’s shadow filled the kitchen entrance, and Benji tried to hide a grimace as he stepped inside, Harbor in tow.

Damnit, that jig was up.

“We made it back in one piece,” Jericho replied. Atta boy, keep it vague. It didn't matter if Vic knew; it would all be okay. They were back, and he saw that they were back. That was what mattered. That was what would clear their getaway.

“I see.” Their handler entered the kitchen, slow and easy. Nothing in his voice hinted towards danger, but the way he moved from cupboard to cupboard as he prepared a pot of black coffee reminded Benji of some big predatory animal, stalking through the shadows. Fluid, effortless, deadly.

He really didn't want to see Vic in action.

“The three of you can move quietly when you need to,” Vic commented as he filled the beat-up pot with water and got it brewing. “I might've never known you were gone if it wasn't for Harbor.” His hand fell onto the other man's shoulder, and Harbor’s gaze dropped, the corner of his mouth twisting downwards. Joy's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

“I wasn't sure we had it in us myself,” Benji cut in before anyone else could speak. Okay, so Harbor had gone right to Vic, but hadn't they already assumed that?

“I hope you'll apply the same cunning on the mission.”

“I hope so too,” Joy said. “Wouldn't wanna get caught.”

Benji had to fight the urge to shoot her a look. Really? All they had to do was say as little as possible, don't get snarky with it.

“Of course.” The sliver of a grin pulled at Vic’s mouth.

He knew. He had to know what Finley would tell them if they met her, he knew. Vic filled his coffee cup, face impassive, somehow looking sinister despite the mundanity of the action.

“Once you're finished eating, I'll see everyone in the briefing room. It's time to plan the execution.”

Execution, huh? Benji swallowed hard as Vic disappeared down the hall. Today already reeked of burning failure, but was that reality talking? Or just his fear?

Vic knew they'd snuck out, he knew Finley's secret message, but he didn't know they were gonna run. Not tonight. They still had plenty of chance left.

“Are you sure you want to tell Harbor?” Joy whispered as they cleaned up breakfast.

“Look, we can wait until it's time to leave. I'll find him once you all are in the truck.”

“That still gives him time to tell Vic.”

“He deserves a chance to run.”

“Do you really think he'll take it?”

Jericho didn't reply, stacking the bowls on the drying rack. “I don't know.”

As if seeking a third opinion, both their eyes landed on Benji, and he shrugged. He didn't think Harbor wanted to leave. But if he tried to put himself in Harbor's place, imagining staying here forever at Vic’s side, even if Vic liked him… it made him feel nauseous. Was Harbor really all that different from Sahota? Even if he did want to be here, even if he thought he was in love with Vic or some shit, how long would it be before he was the one being beaten on camera?

“Jer’s right,” Benji said. “He should have the chance.” Even if he didn't like Harbor, even if he didn't trust him, he trusted Vic a whole lot less. Things might be fine and dandy for him now, but if everyone else took off, Vic would be angry. Benji did not want to picture Vic getting angry

The four of them stepped into the hall, turning towards the briefing room. Benji's arm was practically bumping into Jericho as he walked. Joy wasn't too far from his other side, and even Kaius seemed to be sticking closer than usual. It just felt safer to move in a group, even though today was more about keeping secrets than fighting monsters.

Fuck, if Vic caught them tonight, would they have to fight him? Was it the only way? The thought got his stomach twisting all over again. Every step forward felt like a mistake, like Vic was hiding around the next corner, waiting to trip them, catch them, gun them down. Fortunately, nothing so ridiculous happened on the way to the room. Unfortunately, he knew their handler would still be waiting for them on the other side of that door.

Vic was already in his seat when they stepped inside, what looked like a floorplan spread out in front of him.

“Take your seats,” he said without looking up. Harbor was sitting next to him, slouching in his chair, not really looking at any of the papers. If Vic was the villain, Harbor was stepping into the role of cronie without much hesitation. The LeFou to Vic’s Gaston, the Delancy to his Weasel. Maybe Joy was right. Maybe he wouldn't take the chance they'd offer, staying by his master's side right til the end. He hoped Harbor could at least be happy in his mistakes, but he definitely didn't look happy right now.

Benji took a seat between Joy and Kaius. There was a little square of white in front of each empty chair, too shiny to be note-taking paper. Maybe it was a mini floorplan or something? A map of the building? Benji ran a finger along the square in front of him. Weird. Harbor didn't have one at his place, but maybe he'd already pocketed it.

Before he could pick it up and get a good look, the door opened again.

Sahota. 

He looked awful. His skin was almost gray in the harsh lighting, the bruises on his face dappled with a sickly yellow. There were bruises on his neck too, ringing around the front of his throat. Like he'd been choked.

Benji frowned, trying to remember if they'd been there yesterday. Last night was a blur, and it was enough of a shock to see Sahota so beat up. Courtesy of Harbor, Jericho said, but Vic had been there too, not stopping it, maybe even encouraging it.

“Sahota..?” Joy said beside him, concern plain on her face. Their trainer ignored her, walking past them without a word to stand behind Vic. Arms folded, head bowed like he could hide all the ways he'd been hurt.

Vic didn't acknowledge his arrival. He cleared his throat. “As I hope you know, we're set to move in two days,” he began. “Mr. Davis’s traps came through, and I was able to get a detailed layout of the security cameras throughout the building. I've marked the map accordingly.”

Benji traced circles on the back of the white paper, eyes on Sahota. Based on Joy's reaction, those bruises were new. Not from his capture, not from the fake interrogations. Were they from Harbor? From Vic? He wanted to believe it was just a sparring match gone wrong, but he couldn't see any marks on Harbor, just… something in his eyes as they darted back to glance at Sahota, then back down to the floor, then back again, like he was trying to make sense of something.

The only one who didn't seem surprised at all was Vic.

“You'll all get a chance to study an in-depth layout before stepping off,” their handler continued. “Plan A is to scramble the security feeds and give them a false image. But even if that's achieved, do your best to stay in the blind spots.”

He wished Sahota would look up. He just wanted… he wanted him to see that they all cared, that they all saw it. He didn't know what happened, whether it was a fight or bedroom play that went too far, but it was too far. He couldn't help but be struck by how much Sahota had changed in these last weeks. He'd gone from a soldier, an unshakeable, unflinching statue, to a shadow. 

He'd come with them, wouldn't he? Whatever loyalty he had with Vic, he couldn't stay, right? 

Vic was still talking, but Benji could hardly hear him. The paper was in his hands now, smooth under his fingertips as he looked from Vic to Sahota.

Sahota had to come with them. He had the sinking feeling that as things went more and more wrong, Vic would hurt him again. And how much more could he take? How much had he been taking all the years he'd worked with Vic?

Idly, Benji flipped over the paper, gaze passing over it, then snapping back.

What the..?

He stared blankly at it, Vic’s instructions fading to a buzz in his ears. It was a photograph. A picture of a kitchen in someone's house, lit up weird like it was taken from outside the window. A woman stood at the stove, an older man at the table, frozen mid-laugh, his head tipped towards another man, much younger. He looked just like Joy. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kaius turning over his own photograph. Benji’s mouth was dry as he stared at it, saw the little girl tucked in bed, the woman sat beside her with a book on her lap. Bedtime stories.

That was… that was Jericho's kid. He'd seen the photo in his wallet. What the fuck? 

Vic was still briefing away, seemingly not noticing their discovery. But how could he not? He'd been the one to put them there, who else would it be? He wanted them to see these, but he kept on fucking talking.

“...and if you can bypass the first floor, that will avoid most of the security measures they have in place. The Reality Cage is on floor eight, top of the building. A full scale isn't something I'd recommend, but you can probably make it to the fourth floor—”

“What the fuck is this?” Joy cut him off, a third photograph pinched tight between her fingers. A woman at a desk, Benji saw, almost identical to Kaius. As if seeking to compare them, his head whipped to the side. Kaius's eyes were locked on Joy's photograph, wider than Benji had ever seen them.

“Aadya… how—?”

“Sit down,” Vic said, ignoring the outburst. “This is probably the most important briefing I've given to date. You'll want to pay attention.”

Joy fell into her chair, eyes landing on the picture in front of Benji. She snatched it up, jaw working as she took it in. Across from her, Jericho's face was ashen, his gaze locked on the photograph of his wife and daughter. And in front of him…

It took Benji a second to recognize her. It had been years since he'd seen her, years since they'd spoken, years since she'd abandoned their little ring of thieves, but there she was, poolside, caught up in a phone call. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy braid, the easy, cocky smile she always wore when making a deal plastered on her face.

Anya. It has been so long… How did he find her when even Benji couldn't? How did he even know about her? He fell onto the table, catching himself hard on his elbows, hands wrapping around each other and squeezing hard.

Why were they here? How and why and…

He knew why. Of course he knew why. It was a threat. An oh wouldn't it be a shame if something happened to them? Around him, the others seemed to be reaching the same conclusion.

“You can't—”

“You son of a bitch. They're civilians, they don't have anything—”

“Shut up.”

Joy's jaw ground to a halt, rage still plain on her face as Vic leaned forward in his chair. He wasn't smiling, wasn't mad, but there was something smug in his expression.

“I can see the mission will be on hold until some things are addressed, so I encourage you to use your brains for a moment,” he said. “I know things I shouldn't and have resources you don't know about. What am I willing to do to ensure mission completion? You don't know that either, but you should assume the worst.”

He said it like he was going over potential routes to take on the way to the Elysium building. Casual, flippant. He would hurt them, wouldn't he? If they didn't follow orders? If they ran? The thought hit him like a meteorite, ashes sinking into the pit of his stomach.

Could they run? Vic’s threats couldn’t reach them if they couldn't hear him talk, but he was right, they didn't know how far he would go. Benji still hated Anya for leaving, but he couldn't let Vic kill her.

“My cards are on the table,” Vic said, turning his attention back to the floorplans. “Your move.”

“You can't… it doesn't need to be like this,” Jericho said in a strained voice. “You know… you know the mission will still be carried out. With or without us. We aren't needed.”

“I'm not about to let a crackpot and her merry band of criminals jack this one up,” Vic said, eyes fixing on him. “The mission was trusted to me first. I don't fail the tasks I'm given.”

“So this is about your fucking pride?” Joy snapped. “We know you're working with government agencies, if they knew—”

“Few lives for a few million,” Vic cut her off. “I think the boys will let this one slide.”

“You can't—”

“You're talking like I've already killed them, Miss Cavan.” Vic chuckled. “They're all fine. Alive and well, for now. It's up to you whether or not they stay that way. Now.” He got to his feet, pushing the blueprint he'd been studying to the center of the table. “Do yourselves a favor and study the blind spots.”

“Does it matter if we're gonna get caught anyway?” Joy said through gritted teeth.

“It matters if you're going to make it to the eighth floor,” Vic replied coolly, not bothering to deny it. “Next time, I hope you think twice before you disobey a direct order.”

He left, Sahota beside him, Harbor trailing behind them both like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Benji hoped he felt guilty. He didn't have a photograph, didn't have anyone at stake here. He was willing to sell them out and willing to put their families at risk. They shouldn't have come back for him. They shouldn't have come back at all.

But if they hadn't, would anyone be safe? Would Jericho get to his family before Vic could? There was really nothing they could do but obey. Break into Elysium, risk the guards, get carted away to prison despite everything they'd done to earn their escape. Fuck. 

He buried his face in his hands. Fuck, it was hopeless. Maybe they could still run, after they broke the Reality Cage? They'd be wanted criminals, but they could run, it wasn't legal for the cops to threaten innocent people to bring them in, was it? And once the deed was done, Vic's mission would be accomplished. He'd have his destruction and he'd have his people to blame. It was the only way. He wouldn't go to prison, the local jail was bad enough, he couldn't—

“Benji.” Jericho's hand was rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, and he suddenly realized how quickly he was breathing.

“It's okay, it's okay. Breathe in for me, alright?”

He didn't even have enough air in his lungs to answer. Benji forced himself to inhale, shuddering and deep. He felt like he was on the verge of sobbing, his chest tight, his head hot and fuzzy.

“What do we do?” he managed to choke out. How was Jericho being so calm? It was his kid in the photo, a kid. When his eyes managed to focus, he could see the bigger man’s eyes were shining, his face calm only in the way water was calm before a storm. Joy was still fuming beside him, Kaius quiet and rigid.

“We won't let this happen,” Jericho said, the tremor in his voice betraying his expression.

Joy's eyes fixed on him, her gaze burning, frame shifting as her leg bounced under the table. “We have to get him back,” she said. “We can't run, we shouldn't fight him… fuck, what do we have?”

“Maybe we can find whoever hired him?” Benji said, but even as he said it it sounded stupid.

“We don't have time. Not when he has…” She stopped short, grimacing. “Jer, that's my family— your family. Even if we do everything he fucking asks, how can we know..?”

“We need to turn the tables on him,” Kaius said, speaking for the first time. “He’s holding us at gunpoint. We need to find out own weapons.”

“That just turns it into a standoff.”

“Better than being held hostage.”

Benji couldn't focus on their words as Kaius and Joy fired back and forth. At least they had ideas, he was just frozen by fear, practically resigned to this fate, uncertain in all directions.

Jericho's hand fell onto his shoulder, warm and reassuring as it could be, given the circumstances.

“We'll figure something out.”

“Like what?” Joy had taken to pacing back and forth, Kaius biting at his thumbnail as he stared down Vic's personalized threats.

Like what? his thoughts echoed as he looked up at Jericho, the tiniest bit of hope zipping through him when he saw the resolve on the man's face.

“Vic's computer,” Jericho said, dropping his voice to a near-whisper. “Maybe it's a long shot, but if there's anything in this place we can use against him, it has to be there.”

Kaius's frown deepened. “Do you really think he'd keep something incriminating on hand?”

“More incriminating than holding a bunch of civilians hostage?” Joy muttered.

“It's our best chance,” Jericho said with an exhale. “And Harbor…”

“Harbor?”

His mouth tightened. “Harbor saw something. It was like his implant was trying to point him somewhere. There were a bunch of weird files, and… I don't know, it's the best I can come up with.”

“Then it's what we need to try,” Joy said, nodding. “Tonight?”

“It's the only time we have left.”

It was, wasn't it? They couldn't run. Their only real bid was to meet Vic on the battlefield he'd made.

For all of their sakes, Benji hoped it would be enough.

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me ,

@pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday ,

@kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight ,

@sodacreampuff , @starfields08000 , @neverthelass , @melpomenelamusa , @what-if-i-just-did

[another-whump-sideblog]

An angel nursing a drink. Her holy robes are ragged and dirty, her beautiful features marred by scars older than the light tethered to her head. She can feel her halo ringing painfully in her feathered ears, telling her to stop, leave this place of sin, return to her purpose. Her eyes are tinged with the orange of the disk, but her natural purple shines through enough to stare daggers at the holy symbol.

"I'm tired."

But you have so many people to save.

"Then let me save myself first."

This is self harm. Leave.

"All I'm doing is-"

INDULGING. YOU NEED TO STOP.

"By the holy, do you EVER shut up!?"

The bar goes quiet. The bartender stares her up and down, his visual receptor glowing and flickering.

"You're not a bird, are you?" he says gently.

"Gee, what tipped you off?" she mutters back, taking another swig of liquid courage.

"..The, er, halo, ma'am."

"Right, this accursed thing." She glares at it, reaching up and trying to pull, yet it sticks like glue above her head.

ACCEPT YOUR PLACE.

"I must say, in all of my years of active service, an angel has never graced my establishment. Why are you here?"

"To get drunk, what does it look like I'm doing!?"

STOP SINNING

The robot gives her a pitying look, remotely signaling an early end to his shift as he sits down next to her.

"I've never heard of an angel who didn't like its halo." he says curiously.

"It's not just the halo, it's the whole thing. Celibacy? No earthly possessions? Giving up everything, spending every hour of every day saving strangers from sins that don't even exist!? I never wanted this!!"

BUT YOU SHOULD

With every word she gets angrier, holy light cracking the glass and turning the alcohol to water. She groans and tosses it at the ground, making the bartender wince.

"...then why are you an angel?"

"I WAS FORCED TO BE!! My parents, my whole family, everyone I grew up with- it was either I put on the damn halo or they.. t-they.."

She tears up. The robot puts his hand on hers.

"Shh.. I understand. Perhaps you didn't get to choose then, but you can choose now."

No

"..what do you mean?"

"...I was built as a soldier. Programmed to be a soldier. Spent the first 10 years of my life killing birdkind and skeletons and humans and even other robots.. now, here I am, working the night shift in a bar in the middle of nowhere."

Servos whir in his back as he relaxes, plates of metal moving into place alongside others. Faint light shines through the gaps.

"Sounds miserable."

"On the contrary, I have never felt more alive. I have a family now, a life. People see my faceplate and smile and talk about their day. I give back to them."

"...what's your point?"

"..It's never too late to change, I guess. I'm new to this whole helping people thing anyways, hahah."

Do not

He shrugs, seemingly smiling.

You need to be pure..

"Shut up."

Please..

"..."

An angel nursing her drink. Her halo shines a brilliant green, and her purpose has never been clearer. She's finally pure.

Purely herself, that is.

She's never been happier. New robes in sacreligious colors, no more makeup to hide the scars of her childhood. Maybe one day, she'll find her family, and teach them what she learned. For now, though.. she sits, and drinks, and allows herself to smile.