#He's having a great time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inhurtandincomfort · 1 month ago

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CW: Minor whump (again, it's backstory) Child trafficking, sold into slavery, forced nonsexual nudity, mentions of alcoholism, drug use and self harm at the end along with mild references to disassociation and possible suicidal ideation if you read into how depressed he is.

Eldwin’s body does not belong to him.

That may not make sense to some people. “Ridiculous,” they say, “Whose else could it be?” But it was something made all too clear to Eldwin, as young as fourteen years old, from the moment the pact mark first appeared on his skin.

The moment his hand met the strangers, a sharp pain ran across the back of it and when he looked the mark was there, burned red already fading to black. This was the price he must pay, he knew. That didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the beginnings of regret nagging at the back of his mind as he stared at the intricate sigil, a permanent marker of what he was. Whose he was. When he looked up at the stranger, a handsome man flashing teeth that seemed a little too white, slightly too sharp, looking very pleased with an unnerving glint in his eyes, Eldwin wondered not for the last time whether he’d made the right choice.

It didn’t matter. What’s done is done; a contract was made, his fate is sealed. The demon walked away with a soul and a promise. Eldwin walked away with a fear and a life that would never be the same.

Then he was kidnapped, starving, cold, and desperate in the middle of December lured in by a wealthy-looking couple with a promise of work and instead taken captive, thrown in a basement somewhere in the city with a handful of other boys most his age or older, a couple of them younger.

“They’re gonna sell us,” One of them said, glumly resigned to his fate. He’d been there the longest and claimed to have heard them discussing their plans. “We’ll be sold off for labour and there’s nothin’ we can do about it.” Eldwin scowled, crossing his arms. Maybe there was nothing they could do, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t try. He voiced as much,when the auction day drew closer.

“You’re being stupid.” The first boy told him bluntly. “You think none of us ‘ave tried before?” But some of the newer faces still had some spirit and agreed to attempt an escape. They waited until late in the night. Eldwin quietly approached the basement door, lifting a gloved hand to the lock. It opened easily with a soft click letting the boys sneak out one by one, Eldwin in the lead. They managed to boost one of the boys over the fence before they were caught, a gun in their faces and several men roughly dragging them back where they were thrown forcefully into the basement where the ones who stayed jumped back in fear as the slaver appeared holding his walking cane.

“Who’s idea was this?” He barked, “Own up before I break everyone’s limbs!” The youngest squeaked and stuffed his filthy sleeve into his mouth. Most were crying or quivering with fear and Eldwin couldn’t help but wonder who would speak first? Well, he wouldn’t wait to find out. He wouldn't put that burden on them.

“It was me,” He said more confidently than he felt. “It was my idea. They didn’t want to, but I convinced them.” He held his head high, meeting the man's eyes even as he clenched his fist to stop it from trembling. He only hoped the boy who’d escaped would make it, that he’d tell the guards and put a stop to this before auction day.

“You little brat,” The man snarled, raising his hand. Eldwin was sent stumbling back, a stinging pain where the man backhanded him across the face. “Hold him,” The man ordered two of the stronger boys and they wordlessly stood either side of Eldwin, shoving him to his knees. Eldwin closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come. The wooden cane slammed into his back with such force he would have fallen over had the boys not been holding him in place. He couldn’t hold back a cry slipping past his lips as his vision blurred from tears as the cane hit its mark, over and over again. The youngest boy amongst them was shielding his face in the shirt of another trying to stifle his own cries. “How did you do it? How did you get out!?” The man dropped his cane to the floor and grabbed Eldwin by the collar, hauling him up nearly off the ground. Eldwin looked to the floor, biting the inside of his cheek. He wouldn't answer. No matter how much it hurt, what they did to him, he could not answer.

“He magicked it sir!” The boy who’d been here longest piped up, conviction in his tone. “We all saw ‘im. He didn't even touch it, the door unlocked just like that!"

A new fear flooded Eldwin's chest as the man slowly turned to look from the boy to Eldwin, a strange look coming across his face. “Is that right?” He dropped him to the floor, beckoning for a boy to pass him his cane. “You been holding out on us lad?”

Eldwin glared up at the man, not saying a word. He already had his answer. No one was going to lie for him; If they were asked if he did magic, each and every one of them would say yes.

“Show us,” The man commanded. When he didn’t comply the man slammed his cane hard to the floor with a loud bang that made them all flinch. “Show us!”

There was no point putting it off further. Shakily Eldwin cupped his hands in front of him and after a second a little ball of light appeared. It wasn’t the brightest and it flickered like a dying flame, dimming and brightening every few seconds. But it was all the proof the man needed.

“Well well well.” He looked up from the orb and a smile crept onto his face making Eldwin’s stomach churn, “Things are about to get much more interesting.”

The next few days blurred into one. Eldwin’s anxiety rose to new heights with their discovery hanging over his head like a weight ready to drop. None of the captors had said anything about it and he almost wished they would, he couldn’t take this constant trepidation. None of his fellow captives said anything either. They all stayed huddled at the wall with their heads hung low. No one would meet his eyes. They couldn’t even bear to look at him anymore. It was almost a relief when the big day came. That morning they were all brought upstairs, divided amongst the several bathrooms, stripped and forced in a bathtub where they were doused with cold water by one of the underlings. When they took his gloves from him this man -who looked to be only eighteen, nineteen- saw the sigil and disappeared from the room, coming back with The Mistress in tow. Her nails dug into his wrist as she yanked it harshly, staring at the pact mark with disdain. “Do you have any more secrets you’d like to share with us?” She asked flatly.

Eldwin kept his gaze firmly on the bathroom tiles, his face radiating heat despite his shivering as he tried to cover himself as best he could. She sighed, dropping his arm. “Proceed. I’ll talk to the client before the deal goes through.”

They were given clean clothes. Eldwin noticed his were different from the others - whereas they were given plain cloths barely more than rags, he had on a proper button-up white shirt and dark grey trousers, and black shoes which the others weren’t afforded the luxury of. Some of them had their hair cut unevenly where mats were cut off, others had their heads shorn entirely. Usually he’d appreciate being treated better, but now it made him all the more nervous. Maybe they just wanted to cover the bruises? His back still hurt whenever it stretched. That didn't explain the quality, though.

Then they were brought to another room with a chair by a fire and a couple of metal instruments nearby. Stood by the chair was a feminine figure, her face hidden by a mask. Another woman stood by a table in the corner with what seemed to be medical supplies. They all watched in horror as the first boy was held down in the chair, his head tilted as an iron rod was placed on the side of his neck. The boy yelled and squirmed, strong hands holding him still. It was over within a second, and he was shuffled along to a treatment table, quietly sobbing.

“I feel sick,” One boy said as they all stood lined up in the hallway waiting to be brought on stage, bandage wrapped around his neck, their hands tied in front of them with rope that was left long so they could be led around by it. They could hear the host welcoming the guests. Some boys muttered prayers to themselves, others seemed to be trying to forget they were there at all.

The Mistress entered the room, beckoning Eldwin to follow. “You, boy. With me.” She clicked her fingers, and one of her henchmen grabbed the rope attached to him and tugged him along, bringing him away from the auction to another room. She stopped them outside the door, smoothing his hair back and fixing him with a hard look. “This is a good opportunity for you. Don’t blow it.” Then she opened the door, and he was led inside.

A wealthy-looking man stood in front of the fireplace, turning to face them when the door opened. He was tall, towering over Eldwin when he came to greet them, brown hair neatly combed back and an expensive looking suit. The man grabbed his chin and tilted his head to the side, looking at him from various angles. “He doesn’t look like much. You’re sure he’s the one?” “Yes, sir. The boys all claim to have seen it and my husband can testify.” She gave Eldwin a nudge. “Go on boy, prove it.” “Prove what?” He meant it but must have sounded snarkier than intended because a palm connected with his cheek making his eyes water, her long nails leaving scratch marks.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” She snapped, rings glittering on her still raised fingers. Eldwin scowled, blinking to clear the tears.

“I don’t know what you want from me! No one told me anything! Why was I separated from the others? Why are we here in the first place, I don’t even know how long it’s been!”

Her face twisted with rage. “Why you little-” She looked like she was going to hit him again but the man raised his hand. “You’re a sorcerer, are you not? That’s what we want from you dear. Your magic.” He smiled, the sort of smile one would give to reassure a lost child. He reached up to cup Eldwin’s face, his thumb wiping away the blood left by the Mistress. “Can you do a little for me? Just to prove you can.”

Do these people understand how hard magic is when you’re overstressed, underfed and under-slept? Fine. He’d do a little magic.

He held out one hand palm up, feeling a gentle warmth run through him as all his aether concentrated. Sparks flew from his palm and the man watched in fascination before the sparks turned into flames, springing to life as if someone had thrown oil on to it, albeit on a very small scale. But it was enough to catch the man's sleeve aflame, making him leap back with a yelp, frantically patting himself down. The royal blue fabric was left charred black with a sizable hole. The Mistress offered profuse apologies, offering to cover the damages as Eldwin watched in veiled amusement, careful not to let it show on his face. He would pay for that no doubt, both in their punishment and with the exhaustion that came with using too much energy.

The momentary satisfaction was worth it.

The man dusted himself off, no longer smiling. He didn’t seem to be upset, though; deep blue eyes bore through him as he studied him intently. If anything, he looked pleased. “I’ll take him.”

Thus went his body, stolen by a crime lord who broke it down piece by piece, tore it apart only to build it back up, beat it, burned it, ripped it limb from limb just so he could put it back together leaving not even a scar, getting to live his life like it never happened. Eldwin didn’t have that luxury. Not everything left a visible mark, he couldn’t prove it, no one would ever believe him - but he knew. The Mind remembers what the Body forgets.

But his mind was a traitor.

It was hard to cope, trapped in a life he never asked for, made to do things he never wanted. He was violated, he was used and he was alone with only his own Mind to talk to. Oh, he hated the things his Mind says.

His hand shakes as he brings the bottle to his lips, whisky burning his throat in a way he’d grown to crave. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. The drink, the pills, the searing of cigarettes on skin - they’re only temporary, blocking out the pain, making him human for but a moment. Then come the whispers, the mocking laughter - Failure. Monster. Not even human. Other times it goes blank, leaving him numb and empty until he does something dangerous or cruel for that rush, a chance to feel.. His mind is an enemy that exists within him, controlling his every thought, every move. It was a foe he could not defeat, so it was all he could do to let something else take the reins, just for a little while.

He'd never be himself again. He was already corrupted, tainted, every aspect of him owned by another. Mind, body, and soul.

I hope you enjoyed! If you did please consider reblogging, it really helps the reach of the post for others to find and enjoy it :)

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