#13 DAYS OF TORTURE

[bobcross1010]

Guys World Link Tsukasa and Colfes Tsukasa are in the same fucking month. What the fuck do I do.

[serickswrites]

Spare

Part 2

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, self sacrifice, forced to watch, drowning, mcd

"Please," Caretaker sobbed as Whumper stalked towards them, "please spare me, Whumper. Spare me." They couldn't stand this. Any of this. Whumper would torture them, kill them even, if given the chance. They couldn't let that happen to them.

"Why would I do that, Caretaker? Your terror is absolutely delightful. Especially compared to how stoic Whumpee is. I would much rather hurt someone who is openly afraid. It's much more," Whumper paused dramatically as they stopped short of Caretaker, "enjoyable."

Caretaker pulled on the cuffs keeping them restraint. "Please, please, spare me!"

"Take me instead," Whumpee offered quietly. They hadn't said much said Caretaker had screamed at them to shut up. Caretaker had wailed and wailed for hours, cursing Whumper and blaming Whumpee for being trapped.

"We're in this mess because of you!" Caretaker shouted when Whumpee had tried to comfort them. "I wish I had never listened to you!"

"I'm sorry, Caretaker. It's going to be ok. We're going to be ok."

"Whumper is going to torture us and kill us! How is that ok? I wish I had never listened to you. I hate you! I wish I never met you!"

Whumpee went silent after that. Caretaker hadn't cared. They were too absorbed in their own panic to care. Whumper was going to torture them both. They had to find a way out.

"Take me instead," Whumpee repeated. They didn't look at Caretaker. They didn't sound afraid. They stared at Whumper, their determination clear.

"You're volunteering for this?" Whumper cocked a brow. "You could die, Whumpee. Are you sure? You don't want to let Caretaker go in your place? They said some awful things earlier."

Whumpee nodded. "Take me. Hurt me. Leave Caretaker alone."

Whumper's grin grew. "Very well then, this will be fun, I can tell. You're going to prove to be quite the challenge, Whumpee." Whumper hurried over and unhooked Whumpee from the chains, still keeping their wrists cuffed. "We'll see how long you last. The brave ones either go pretty fast, or they last for a long time. Which flavor are you?"

Whumpee thrust their chin out. "You'll get to find out, but you can't hurt Caretaker."

Whumper nodded. "Yes, yes. Hurt you. Only you. Leave Caretaker alone. No problem."

Whumpee walked willingly with Whumper over to the large tub in the center of the room. It was rusty in spots and filled with cold, cold water. "Kneel," Whumper commanded.

Whumpee slowly got to their knees. They still didn't look at Caretaker. They stared straight ahead. Caretaker was too afraid to say anything. Too afraid to draw attention to themself. Surely Whumper would hold Whumpee under a few times and then leave them in a sopping sobbing mess.

"Let's see how long you can hold your breath for," Whumper said as they kicked Whumpee's legs wide and knelt between them. They held Whumpee briefly to their chest before shoving Whumpee's head below the surface.

Whumpee, to their credit, held very still for a while. They didn't move. Didn't thrash. Didn't try to buck Whumper off. They merely let their head be held under the water.

"Well this is dull," Whumper said as they held Whumpee's head beneath the water. "Let's make this more interesting." They punched Whumpee in the ribs hard.

Caretaker could see bubbles rush from Whumpee's lips. "That's cheating, Whumper! They weren't fighting!"

"Exactly," Whumper said as they put all their weight on the hand keeping Whumpee's head beneath the water. Whumpee bucked and thrashed wildly beneath Whumper's hand. "This is much more fun."

"They're drowning. You're killing them!" Caretaker shouted. Their heart hammered in their chest, fearing for Whumpee's life.

"They won't drown yet," Whumper said as they lifted Whumpee's head from the water. Whumpee gasped and choked, water spewing from their lips. "See? Not dead."

Before Whumpee could get a good breath or Caretaker could say anything, Whumper shoved Whumpee's head below the surface again. "Please! Don't kill them!" Caretaker begged. They had wanted to be spared. They had wanted to be safe. But they didn't want it to come at the cost of Whumpee being drowned to death.

"Killing them too quick will ruin my fun. I want this to last as long as possible."

Whumper repeated the process countless times. Caretaker's throat was raw from shouting at Whumper. But it hadn't mattered. Whumper had kept their word and only went after Whumpee. Caretaker remained untouched.

"Let's see if you can last just a bit longer, Whumpee. If you do, you're the longest lasting toy I've ever had. Isn't that wonderful?"

Whumpee's eyes were unfocused. Their chest heaved and it was unclear if they could even hear Whumper. Caretaker had to figure a way out. Whumpee couldn't last much longer.

Whumper shoved Whumpee completely into the tub, submerging Whumpee in the icy water. "This is much more fun this way."

"Whumper!" Caretaker shouted as Whumper stepped into the tub, pressing one boot on Whumpee to keep them below the water. Whumpee's legs flailed wildly as they tried to kick out. "Whumper! Let them go! Don't kill them, Whumper!"

Whumpee's foot connected with Whumper's knee and Whumper stumbled. With a growl, Whumper kicked Whumpee in the face. They knelt in the water, pinning Whumpee completely. Caretaker hollered and yelled for Whumper to stop, but Whumper couldn't hear over the splashing water. Whumper punched Whumpee over and over. Their anger was unrelenting. Rage contorted their features into a grotesque mask of anger.

Slowly, Whumpee's frantic kicking stopped. Slowly, Whumpee's thrashing in the water stopped. Slowly, the water grew still once more.

"Let them up, they can't breathe!" Caretaker urged Whumper.

But Whumper didn't acknowledge them. They ignored Caretaker and instead glared down at Whumpee beneath the water. "Whumper! Whumper!" Caretaker tried again. But Whumper ignored them.

Finally, after what felt an age, Whumper stood up. Caretaker didn't let out the breath they were holding. They wouldn't, not until they could see Whumpee breathing again. "Well, so much for longest lasting toy," Whumper finally said.

"What?" Caretaker's blood froze. No. No. This couldn't be true.

"I don't think anyone could have survived that, Caretaker. Whumpee's good, but five minutes below the water good? I don't think so."

"NO!"

Whumper reached beneath the water and grabbed Whumpee by the throat and lifted. Whumpee's head lolled in Whumper's hands. Their hair was plastered to their face, obscuring their features from view. Their limbs hung limply as Whumper lifted them higher. "Not my longest lasting, but certainly one of my most fun."

"Whumpee, Whumpee, say something!"

Whumper rolled their eyes. "Caretaker I told you, no one could have survived that long. Whumpee can't answer you. They're dead. See?"

Whumper tossed Whumpee like a ragdoll towards Caretaker. Whumpee landed in a heap where they remained unmoving. This couldn't be happening. Couldn't be true. Whumper stalked over and kicked Whumpee onto their back. Their body offered no resistance as they rolled.

"Whumpee, please," Caretaker whispered, refusing to believe Whumper. Whumper had lied before. Because if Whumper was telling the truth, then Whumpee had died in their place. After they said all of those awful things. Caretaker wouldn't be able to live with themself if this were true.

"Look, Caretaker, look," Whumper said with a dark chuckle as they brushed Whumpee's sopping hair off their face.

Something broke inside Caretaker as they stared into Whumpee's half lidded eyes. Something broke as they stared at Whumpee's slack jaw, their lips parted for the gulp of air they would never get. Something broke as they stared at Whumpee's lifeless body.

Caretaker sobbed, unable to articulate anything into words. This was their fault. This was all their fault. Whumpee was dead because they had been a coward. And they had said terrible things to Whumpee. And now Whumpee was dead. Had died thinking Caretaker hated them. Had died for Caretaker.

"Still," Whumper said as they stared down into Whumpee's lifeless eyes, "one of the most fun toys I've ever had. It's a shame they had to break."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[tswiftupdatess]

13 days left until 'THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT' is officially released!

[spokelseskladden]

Im so mentally ill right now pls hand me my vitamin d pills i need to be fixed, i haven't felt sunlight upon my skin for a week and it's raining over the snow so it's all sloppy and slippery and dark out so i can't go anywhere without getting my feet soaked and my inlaws are asking me what i want for christmas like specifically which means i have to share my interests but i don't want to be perceived right now because I'm feeling the winter paranoia/madness and also i had to take the trashcan out yesterday and faceplanted in the snow and my glasses are all scratched up so i think im going to need new ones and if i want to go ANYWHERE i need to defrost my fucking car on the daily and i hate it. I hate winter i HATE IT. And i have an exam on friday as well as work and a christmas party to attend. I need to move to the forest and become one with nature, just leave society behind and live like Isak in Growth of the soil even though i fucking hate Knut Hansun, that nazi bitch.

[starliight-whump]

Drugging

Augustsnippets day 13: drugging/poisoning/cannibalism

James gets a meal with a little extra something in it.

Contains: food, drugging, captivity.

James sat on the mattress with his back against the brick wall, his mind blurred with pain. Everything hurt, cuts, burns and bruises all mingled together into a jumble of pain that honestly made James want to pass out. Just being awake was a torture all in itself.

“You should eat something, Jamie.” Harrison said as he stood in front of him with a tray containing a bowl and a piece of bread.

Food might be a good idea, but James was hurting too much to have an appetite. “I’m not hungry.” James mumbled and looked down. All he wanted was for Harrison to leave.

“Come on, you don't want to be ungrateful when I made the effort to give you this, do you?” Harrison sounded amused, but James could hear the danger in his voice. 

James decidedly didn't want that. “N-no. Of course not. I’m sorry.” He apologized instantly, hoping that Harrison wouldn't actually take offense to that and use that as an excuse to hurt him.

“Good,” Harrison walked closer and set the tray down on James' lap. “Enjoy.”  

James looked back at him with dazed eyes. He was too tired to really wonder why Harrison was smiling at him while giving him the food. Since he wanted to keep Harrison in a good mood James mumbled a quiet thank you. He stared down at the bowl of soup, which really looked like a light broth for a few seconds before he picked up the spoon using his left hand, since the burn on his right arm hurt too much. 

The broth was indeed pretty light in flavor but James didn't mind. It was food, at least. It wasn't like he had much energy to pay attention to how it tasted anyway. He ate a few spoonfuls in silence and tried to ignore the way Harrison was watching him, it made his skin crawl. James set the spoon down and dipped the bread into the broth instead and ate that in silence. When he'd finished the bread James picked up the bowl with one hand and drank the rest of the broth, then placed the bowl down again. 

With a heavy sigh he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Fuck, he really didn't want to be awake anymore…The moments seemed to pass in a blur and sickly, uneasy feeling started to crawl up on him. Suddenly he was incredibly dizzy and he couldn't stop a groan.

“Feeling good, Jamie?”

James' eyes flew open and the image of Harrison doubled in front of him. Feeling good? He looked down at the empty bowl, then back at Harrison. “Wha didya do?” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, causing him to slur as he asked his terrified question. Had Harrison put something in his food? 

Harrison’s laugh sounded distant and echoey. “Oh, I just put a little extra something in your food.”

Oh nonono. James blinked slowly, an unfocused look in his eyes. His head spun something terrible and nausea rolled over him.

----

taglist: @augusnippets, @darkredrevolution, @uvanuva

[bietrofastimoff23]

Aegon the Merciful, because instead of torturing Вlood and Сheese, he killed them too quickly.

[sophiethewitch1]

Sometimes when you're really ill and there's no cure for your disability and you look around and everyone in your life is so kind to you and trying to help you and genuinely believes that you can get better it feels. Almost isolating. Like I'm the only out there that knows the truth or something. I'm the only one who knows.

[happinessoncorneliastreet]

Taylor Swift posted on Instagram

"13 days until THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT"

[strawdxll]

((hello, things are getting overwhelmingly busy for me with my FT job being down a team member (2 in march 🙃) and my PT job starting up again so i will likely be low activity for the foreseeable future. i will be around but less. apologies on any delays. hope you all are well<3))

[lettersfromaplatypus]

Whumptober Day 14. I will definitely come back to this one at some point as it's not where I want it to be, but I hope you enjoy for the time being anyway :)

Rating: mature

Archive warnings: choose not to use warnings (canon-typical violence but it's not graphically described)

Category: gen

Fandom: Legend (Marie Lu)

Relationships: Daniel and Eden, Eden and June

Summary: Eden gets taken hostage. When Daniel comes to rescue him, Eden sees him in a new light.

[serickswrites]

Death Will Do Us Part

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, wounds, electrocution, escape, unclear character status, unconsciousness

"Whumpee, you have to promise me you'll stay awake," Caretaker said as they slung Whumpee's arm over their shoulder and began to live.

"T-T-T-ryingggggg," Whumpee mumbled. Their head hung low and they were barely hanging on. Blood dripped from the cuts on their body, some deeper than others.

"Remember, you promised before, death will do us part, Whumpee. You have to stay with me." Caretaker didn't want to think what would happen if they didn't get Whumpee out now.

Whumper had captured the two of them days ago and had been enjoying torturing the two of them. Whumpee was in far worse shape because it seemed Whumper enjoyed Whumpee's screams and Caretaker's anger far more than the other way round. Whumper had shocked Caretaker a few times before returning to cutting Whumpee's skin.

Whumpee had been bleeding for hours. Had been getting weaker and weaker. And now they were barely conscious and this was their chance to escape. Caretaker had to get Whumpee out of there.

"Mmmmm," Whumpee hummed.

They were so close to freedom. Caretaker could see outside. Could see freedom. Just a bit longer. Caretaker opened their mouth to try and urge Whumpee on, but nearly fell as Whumpee's knees buckled. "Don't break down on me yet, Whumpee. We're almost there!"

Whumpee didn't reply, becoming more of a dead weight pulling Caretaker down. "Come on, Whumpee. Come on," Caretaker said as they scooped Whumpee into their arms.

Whumpee's eyes were closed, their jaw slack. Their head lolled on their neck as Caretaker lifted them up. Their limbs flopped as Caretaker ran. But they didn't wake. "Stay with me, Whumpee. You promised. You promised."

Whumpee didn't wake as Caretaker shook them. Didn't wake as Caretaker talked to them. Didn't wake as Caretaker emerged outside with a cry of delight. And they didn't wake as Caretaker begged them to open their eyes and look around to see they were free.

"Please, Whumpee! Stay with me now! PLEASE!"

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[walker-extended-universe]

Worst Case Scenario, Chapter 3

Relationship(s): Cordell Walker & Stella Walker, August Walker & Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced torture, Mental Health Issues, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Physical Recovery, Disability

Summary: August is back home and everyone is adjusting, but no one is okay. Not just yet.

Written for @angstober Day 13: Shaking

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

--------------------------

August’s return home was a grand affair. Well, not too grand; they didn’t want to overwhelm the poor boy. But some cake and August’s favorite dinner was more than acceptable.

Everyone had gone to the hospital the week before to get a rundown on what to expect. August was still mostly independent but he would need help with some things, especially his physical therapy routine. They would also need to be patient with him speaking due to his stutter. His motor issues and his stutter would never fully go away but they were encouraged to help him improve.

The moment his son came back home, Cordell felt like a crushing weight had been lifted. It was no longer a question of “if” things would get better, but “when”. August’s condition could marginally improve over time, but he would still be able to (mostly) live his life regardless. This experience wouldn’t be a horrible stain that ruined his life, just a small setback.

As he sat at the table, watching August carefully use his fork despite his shaky hand, he had hope for the first time in weeks.

They were going to be okay.

—------------

Stella thought having August home would make her feel better. August coming home meant he was getting better. August coming home meant everyone else would be distracted and leave her alone.

Everything was supposed to get better.

Only, it didn’t.

If anything, having him home made it worse. She got a front row seat to his condition and what that meant for the rest of his life.

She felt awful. If she hadn’t been so stupid, if she hadn’t fallen for Shannon’s lies, if she’d just waited for Uncle Larry and the rest of the rangers to come back….

None of this would be happening. August wouldn’t have brain damage, Dad would look her in the eyes, and she wouldn’t be having these awful nightmares.

She just wanted things to go back to normal, for the problems to be over. But she knew it wasn’t that simple. It never was with their family.

“Stella? What are you still doing up?”

She whipped around and flinched when she saw her dad. “Uh, hi. I… I couldn’t sleep.”

That wasn’t entirely true. She could sleep; she just didn’t want to. She didn’t want the nightmares, the memories, to come back. And she knew they would. They always did.

Dad’s eyes softened just a bit. “Still having nightmares?”

She nodded silently. Was this a good sign? Was he finally going to give her a break? Would he give her advice so she didn’t have to ask for it?

“It’ll be okay, Stell. You just need some time.” Cordell put a hand on his shoulder on his way past her into the kitchen. She did her best not to flinch. “Maybe we can get you one of those white noise machines. That used to help me.”

She slumped. “Yeah, maybe.” That wouldn’t help. The problem was never about falling asleep; it was about what she saw when she got to dreamland.

“Alright. Why don’t you head on to bed, butterbean? Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Stella slunk up the stairs, not willing to risk another argument if she tried to stay up later. She slid under her sheets and tried scrolling on her phone to distract herself. If she just didn’t sleep, she wouldn’t dream. Right?

But, inevitably, her body gave in to exhaustion, and she fell into the darkness.

You want your meal? You gotta earn it.

You know, I’m almost glad your dad’s being stubborn. We’d have to let you go if he gave in, and I like having your pretty face around.

Don’t push it, sweetheart. I know your birth control’s worn off by now.

Open wide, darling.

Stella woke up gasping for air, choking on something that wasn’t there. She clenched her shaking hands as she tried to get her breathing under control.

“You’re fine. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine,” she muttered to herself. “You don’t have brain damage, you’re not pregnant, you’re fine. It’s just a bad dream. Get over it. You’ll be fine.”

She had to be fine. She didn’t deserve to ask for help. This was all her fault anyway.

She would be fine.

—------------

They were starting to develop a routine at the ranch. Which was good, as Stella would be returning to school soon and Cordell had approval to go back to work in the next couple of weeks. They needed to get August ready for spending more of his day alone.

Cordell wished he could send him to school, just for the sense of normalcy, but he didn’t think August was quite ready for that. He knew how highschoolers could be, and August didn’t need relentless bullying on top of everything else he was dealing with. So Cordell had worked out a deal with the school so most of his work- outside of a few tests- could be done online. It was much safer and less demanding. And August could still hang out with any of his friends on the ranch if he really wanted to. This was just the better option, even if August didn't seem to appreciate it.

“I-I c-c-could go t-t-to sch-chool….”

“I know you could, bud,” Cordell said gently. “But I just don’t think we’re ready for that yet. Maybe we can talk about that for next year, but right now you’re still adjusting and it won’t hurt to do it online for now.”

August pouted but nodded. “F-Fine….”

Cordell clapped him on the shoulder. “There ya go. And don’t forget, you can ask Mawline or your Uncle Liam for help while Stella and I are out.”

“I kn-kn-know. All-All three-ee of y-y-you t-t-tell me ev-ev-everyd-d-day.”

Cordell chuckled. “Well, we just want to be sure you know. We all just need a little more adjustment time I guess….”

August rolled his eyes. “Yeah, what-t–tev-ver.” He picked up his laptop and started heading upstairs, probably looking for a little peace and quiet while he got used to his new school portal.

Speaking of upstairs, Cordell hadn’t seen Stella all day. Well, not since breakfast, at least. He’d been meaning to talk to her since he caught her staying up late in the living room the other night. Geri’s words from a few weeks ago still bounced around in his mind. He’d started lightening up a little bit around her, but there was still a ways to go with their relationship. He wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t recognize that.

And, after that talk, he’d started to recognize her pain more. It was just hard to talk to her about it.

It was hard, when all he saw when he looked at her was August in a hospital bed. He couldn’t help but think of the “what ifs” and how much smoother all this could’ve been if she hadn’t been so stupid.

He elected to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he pulled much stupider shit back in his day.

Sighing, he started heading upstairs too. He had to try, at least.

“Hey, butterbean…” He rapped his knuckles on her door, gently pushing it open. “You’ve been kind of quiet today. Everything okay?”

Stella looked up from where she was writing in a notebook. Her eyes widened and she quickly closed the notebook. “Uh- yeah. Everything’s fine. Just- getting ready to go back to school.” She smiled weakly and her eyes shifted away from him.

If he didn’t know any better, he might think his daughter was scared of him. But he knew she was just traumatized in other ways. She was just having a little trouble bouncing back. “You know, you don’t have to go back yet if you’re not ready. We could work something out with the school and get you a little more time.

Stella’s smile wavered but she shook her head. “No, I’m okay, really. I’ll probably feel better once I’m back to normal. Being stuck in the house for all this time probably hasn’t done me any good….” She trailed off with a strained laugh. 

Cordell nodded. “Yeah, I know the feeling. I can’t wait to get back to work….” Man up, Walker. She needs you. “You know, if you ever wanted to…talk…about what happened… We can get you a therapist. I’ve never been a therapy guy but I’m not exactly a paragon of mental health.” He chuckled. “If you think it might help, we could definitely find someone for you.”

Stella stared at him silently for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I think I’m okay. I mean, I’m not like ‘okay’ but…. You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine. I just need some time.”

Cordell nodded. He knew the feeling well. “Okay, then. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will. Thanks.” Stella then turned away from him and opened her journal again.

He slowly backed away, closing the door as he went.

He thought that went pretty well, all things considered.

Things were going to be fine.

—-----------

August wasn’t the same. He knew a lot had changed, about himself and about his family.

He saw more than they all realized. He understood more than they thought he could.

He hated that he couldn't express it properly. He knew all the right words (most of the time) but he couldn't say them right.

When Dad babied him and treated him like he can’t do the basics by himself, he wanted to scream. When Uncle Liam tried to treat him like he was still normal, he wanted to cry. When Aunt Geri slowed her speech around him, he appreciated the effort but hated that she had to.

When Stella avoided him, he just wanted to hug her like he used to.

He wanted to tell her he didn’t blame her for anything. He wanted her to know he was still there for her. He wanted her to know he still saw her pain.

He just wanted to help. But she wouldn’t let him.

And August knew why. He wasn’t stupid or blind. He knew Dad was being too harsh on her, making her retreat every time she so much as opened her mouth.

August hated that more than he hated Dad treating him like an invalid.

He may not be able to do anything about Dad directly, but he could still help Stella in his own way. Or, at least, try to. So, one night, he snuck into her room, and tried something. “H-Hey…”

Stella sat up quickly in her bed, shoulders slumping when she saw who it was. “Hey, Augie. What are you doing up?”

He shrugged and sat on the edge of her bed. “I w-wanted-d t-to t-t-talk t-t-to you.”

“About what?”

“Y-You. Y-Y-You’re s-s-sad.”

Stella looked away. “I’m fine, Augie. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I still d-d-do.”

She sighed. “I- I appreciate that, but I’m fine, really.” She tried to smile at him, but he saw right through that.

“I-I’m not-t-t st-t-upid.”

She flinched. “I know, but you still shouldn’t worry about me. You’re the one that got brain damage because of me. I'm still walking and talking, I’ll be fine.”

August frowned. “B-But y-you’re not. Y-Y-Y-You-” He stopped and forced himself to take a deep breath. 

You’re not fine. You’re hiding all the time, you flinch when anyone gets near you, and you never talk to anyone about it. I miss you. I wish Dad treated you better. I wish I could actually tell you all this.

“Hey, it’s okay….” Stella grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “I know…. I know I’m not okay. I wish I was. I just- I don’t know who to talk to.”

“T-T-Talk t-to me,” he pleaded. “I l-l-l-love you.”

Stella smiled sadly. “Augie, my shit isn’t your problem.”

“B-B-Bullshit.”

That made Stella laugh. “Okay, okay, if you insist…” She trailed off. “I don’t want to tell you everything. I’m not there yet. But… This is nice. If you want to keep doing it, I mean.”

August nodded. This was all he wanted.

“Okay then. Just- Don’t tell dad.”

“I-I-I won’t-t-t. Pr-Promise.”

She smiled again, for real this time. “Okay then. Thanks, Augie.” She kissed his cheek softly. “Now go to bed. Dad’ll worry about you.”

August rolled his eyes but did as she asked. He just hoped she wasn’t lying to him.

He just wanted things to be okay again. Was that too much to ask?

[arecaceae175]

Febuwhump Day 13: Forced to Hurt A Loved One (Warriors & Time)

AO3 link. Warnings: many blood, injury, torture, kidnapped, no happy ending >:). If anyone can guess what this is inspired by I'll be very impressed and give you a cookie

Part 1/3. Part 2. Part 3.

Time’s scream ripped through the air. Warriors flinched minutely and tore his eyes away. Even from the hallway, Warriors could see the tension in his jaw as Time tried to hold in more screams. 

His captor chuckled. “This bother you?”  

Warriors forced himself to meet the man’s gaze; he couldn’t let his true emotions through. “I’ve done worse,” he answered honestly, clenching a fist. The man studied him for a moment, gaze unreadable. 

“Why don’t you take a turn, then?” The man asked.

Warriors felt his heart skip a beat. Ice flooded his veins and his chest went tight with dread. His expression stayed neutral through sheer force of will. He knew things would only get worse if he gave away his relationship to Time. 

Warriors nodded, then the man ushered him into the room. Time’s interrogator gave Warriors a questioning glance, but backed off as soon as the leader entered the room. Warriors kept his shoulders high and his soldier mask on as he passed. He kept his eyes on the ground until his back was to his captors, and only then did he look at Time.

Warriors could tell from only one glance that Time was in bad shape. He was slouched to one side in the chair he was tied to, his head hanging and his chin against his chest. His hair was matted with blood and his pallid skin was shining with sweat. His undertunic was ripped and drenched in blood. 

Time slowly picked up his head and met Warriors’ eyes. Time’s good eye was nearly swollen shut, his entire face was bruised, and blood was slowly dripping from his nose and cracked lips. Time coughed weakly, then cracked a wry grin.

“Are you just going to stand there? Get on with it,” Time said. His voice was barely audible, but it was steady. 

Warriors swallowed thickly, his heart hammering in his chest. Time knew the situation, and that was his permission. Warriors knew too much hesitation would be suspicious, but he still sent a silent prayer of apology before he took the final step towards Time.

“Where’s your group?” Warriors asked in his strongest commander voice. He desperately hoped he sounded believable as his insides roiled with nausea.

Time silently dropped his head back to his chest.

“This will be easier if you tell us. It all goes away,” Warriors said. 

He knew Time couldn’t reveal their group’s location, and wouldn’t, but a part of him still hoped. A part of him was screaming wildly, desperate to do anything to stop the situation before it escalated further. It was the same part of him that protected his troops, that prompted him to become a hero in the first place; the part that never allowed him to hurt an innocent.

It was the same part of him that still saw Time as Mask, as the traumatized kid he came to know as his little brother. 

Time didn’t answer. 

Warriors reeled back and punched him. Time’s head whipped to the side, but he remained silent. Warriors felt the pain slicing deep into his soul, but he held his ground.

“I’ve already been through all this,” the interrogator said. “Maybe we start taking pieces.”

Time spit blood onto the ground, then raised his head again. His cheek was split and a small stream of blood dripped down his face. He met Warriors’ gaze. “Do what you must.”

A knife was placed in Warriors’ hand and it cleared all the haze in his mind. He had done it, they trusted him . This was his chance to get Time out alive and keep the others safe. He gripped the knife with white knuckles and forced his breathing to steady.

“I don’t think you understand,” Warriors said. He needed Time to see his plan. They both needed to be ready to run, and Warriors needed to know if Time could still fight. “I’m the best shot you’ve got.” 

“Why? Are we friends now?” Time asked. It sounded sarcastic, but Warriors knew Time was trying to ask for more information. 

“Because I’m the one holding the knife,” Warriors said.

“And your friends are the ones holding the swords,” Time said, minutely shaking his head. 

Warriors’ heart sank. Time could see the entire room and into the hallway. Warriors never got a good look, but judging by Time’s answer there were too many guards and too many weapons for him to take on alone. 

Warriors realized he had to make a decision. Either he refused, which would give away his position and jeopardize the others, or he had to torture Time. Warriors felt his hands start to shake and images of a battlefield littered with his fallen brothers flashed through his mind. How many of those bodies had he been forced to put there?

Warriors shook the thoughts out of his head and refocused his gaze on Time. He desperately hoped their captors couldn’t see his shaking hands or his rapid breaths. He needed to keep his head. Time needed him.

“No one has to die here. Tell me the location so we can all walk away,” Warriors said, desperate to buy himself more time to think.

Time said nothing. 

Warriors slashed the knife across Time’s chest. Time remained silent, but he flinched and clenched his eyes shut. His expression of pain was seared into Warriors mind, and he knew with certainty he would see it in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

[happinessoncorneliastreet]

13 days until "The Tortured Poets Department"