#Unintentional: Aiden and Leo

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Hello! I ADORE you writing, especially your Unintentional work with Aiden and Leo. Is it on a hiatus or still ongoing? Just wondering since I’m new here but I can’t get enough of them!

Oh, that's lovely, thank you 💕

There may have been an unintentional (heh) hiatus between the last two posts but it is very much ongoing!

I have quite a lot planned for those two...

[diamcndclawsa-blog]

𝘽𝘼𝙎𝙄𝘾𝙎 ,

full name.     selina kyle pronunciation.     suh-lee-nah kai-uhl nickname.     sel,  cat,  catwoman,  irena dubrovna,  selina calabrese,  +  various other aliases. height.     5′7″ age.     typically around the latter half of her 20s to mid-30s,   or teens in her gotham verse,   but i’m willing to play her at various ages. zodiac.     i haven’t totally worked out her chart,   but she’s 100% a   scorpio sun.    probably a leo moon  &  sagittarius sun or vice verse,   but i’m definitely not set on those yet. spoken languages.     english,   primarily,   and a decent amount of italian & some spanish.   also a sprinkle of russian,  japanese,  etc.  just from the rich criminals coming through gotham. 

𝙋𝙃𝙔𝙎𝙄𝘾𝘼𝙇 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘾𝙎 ,

hair color.     black. eye color.     green,   leaning towards a   jade. skin tone.     fairly light & a faint smattering of freckles on her nose.    leans toward a   light medium   when she sees sunlight,   but that’s an immense rarity considering in the day time she’s typically asleep,   lounging with her cats,   or dealing with other various business indoors.    still,   selina doesn’t need a lot of sun to tan,   and she seldom burns. body type.     incredibly fit from   years   of practice in martial arts,  gymnastics,  freerunning,  &  general melee fighting.    selina doesn’t carry a lot of obvious muscle,   but she’s incredibly toned in her upper arms,  legs,  and core.    that said,   she’s also quite curvy.    rly fills out the catsuit xo accent.     typical american accent.   she tends to speak pretty casually.    it also gets pretty low & sultry when she’s teasing & flirting.   when it comes to jobs where she has to play a   part,   though,   she can easily put on different accents or talk more   ‘ proper ’ dominant hand.     she’s ambidextrous,   but she does favour her right hand a little more posture.     fairly straight,   with her shoulders pulled back.    there’s no room for bad posture with the kinda shit she does,   so it’s just sorta second nature by now.    when she’s relaxed,  however,   she tends to lean against things a lot,   or stands with her hip jutted to the side. scars.     surprisingly,   she doesn’t have any significant scars with stories behind them.    the only ones lingering from childhood are just from particularly rough scrapes   (  the kind that takes off skin  ).    but she typically has various bruises from fights,   and a fuck ton of random ass scratches bc u know....    she’s a crazy cat lady.   :/ tattoos.     none.    she’s thought about it quite a few times,   of course,   but getting something that distinguishable when she tries to keep under the radar isn’t exactly the wisest decision. most noticeable feature.     her ass and her eyes.

𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙇𝘿𝙃𝙊𝙊𝘿 ,

place of birth.     havana,  cuba hometown.     gotham,  new jersey birth weight.     about 6-7 lbs. birth height.     about 18 1/2 in.    on the lower end of average,   but nothing abnormal. manner of birth.     a private hospital her mother’s family had connections at.   her mother had better care than the average pregnant mother giving birth in a normal hospital,   despite how downhill things went down in selina’s earlier years first words.     it’s cliché but uh....    it was 100%   ‘ cat ’.    her birth mother had a cat,   and it would hang around her crib a lot,   so...    y’know. siblings.     magdalena kyle   (  sister from her adoptive family  ),   aiden mason   (  estranged brother  ) parents.     rex calabrese   (  father  ),    anita cortes   (  mother,  deceased  ),   +  i’m not bothering with her adoptive parents’ names rn but their last name was kyle,   obvs parental involvement.     honestly ?    very little.    she spent a short few years living with her mother in cuba,   before rex tried to bring them over to gotham.    her mother was killed by one of his enemies,   and baby selina barely made it out.    she spent roughly ages 2-8 with rex,   after which he decided it was too dangerous to keep her around,   and she was put into the foster system.    the kyles adopted her,   but mr. kyle was a raging alcoholic,   and mrs. kyle eventually left the family completely.   selina didn’t get on with either of them growing up,   and wound up running away from home after a few years anyway.

𝘼𝘿𝙐𝙇𝙏 𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙀 ,

occupation.     cat burglar  &  occasional vigilante current residence.     gotham,  new jersey close friends.     holly robinson,  alice tesla,  lola macyntire,  killer croc,  bruce wayne  (  sometimes  ) relationship status.     single,   though she’s got a long-running fling with batman,   and various flings  &  hook-ups with others.   engaged or married in other verse,   though. financial status.     heavily verse dependent.   in her younger years,   she’s literally on the streets,   stealing to eat.    she spends the earlier years of her life as a cat burglar not   too   much better,   especially when her apartments end up compromised half the time.    later on,   however,   she gets enough money stowed away in various bank accounts that she’s pretty well-off.    not exactly a millionaire,   but she can afford the fancy penthouse. driver’s license.     about five or six fake ones,  though she’s never   officially   taken the test.   she knows what she’s doing,  though. criminal record.     an extravagant list of burglaries,   with a sprinkling of unintentional manslaughter,   and a teensy dash of murder vices.     liquor,  thievery,  sex,  smoking

𝙎𝙀𝙓 & 𝙍𝙊𝙈𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀 ,

sexual orientation.     bisexual romantic orientation.     biromantic preferred emotional role.     submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role.     submissive  |  dominant  |  switch     (   being anything other than dominant is   incredibly   rare,   however.    she’s really gotta trust someone to let them take control.    bruce is probably the only one i can think of whose gotten that privilege,   and even that is verse dependent.   ) libido.     pretty damn high.    it’s a thrill,  a form of stress relief,  and a way to keep control in   her   court.    she’s not opposed to fucking on a rooftop,   in the middle of a job,   or after she’s just escaped a barrage of bullets.    in fact,   that’s when she enjoys it best. turn on’s.     guys with scruff,   delicious abs,   girls with pretty hair,   nice asses,   successful burglaries,   a good challenge in a fight,  getting anything expensive  turn off’s.     people talking about their feelings,   commitment,  anyone too  ‘ vanilla ’ love language.     nuzzling  /  general cuddling,   possessive touches,   sharing food,   little gifts relationship tendencies.     almost exclusively running flings or one-night stands.   a few nights,   if someone gets lucky.    she’s not really into long lasting relationships.    her line of work doesn’t really allow for getting close to people    —    they get hurt that way.    and beyond that,   she’s just not that fond of opening up.    it takes a lot for someone to get her to open up,   but if she gets there,   it’s a lot more likely a relationship will be more than just a fling.

𝙈𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘼𝙉𝙀𝙊𝙐𝙎 ,

character’s theme song.     oh god i’m the worst at theme songs.    but honestly,   probably something from the ost of   ‘ to catch a thief ’   bc...   ya know.... hobbies to pass the time.     watching old hollywood classics,   napping or playing with her five hundred cats,   going for jogs on the rooftops,   drinking,   shopping physical illness.     none left or right brained.     a little more left-brained,   i’d think fears.     getting close to people and finding them dead,   feeling helpless,   living a monotonous life self confidence level.     pretty damn high when it comes to her capabilities.   when it comes to herself as a person ?    not great,  lol. vulnerabilities.     expensive things   (  especially if they sparkle  ),   street kids,   holly robinson,   lola macyntire,   bruce wayne,   katherine kyle   (  verse dependent  ),   helena wayne   (  verse dependent  )

tagged by.     @lxdrlappen  ♡ tagging.     @sparkadream   (  harley  ),    @guiltspelled,    @shieldthrow,    @godslaer

[leyswhumpdump]

Shattered by @oddsconvert​ is the first one that leapt to mind! I don’t think it’s possible to get much less responsive than poor Declan.

Unintentional by @distinctlywhumpthing​! Leo doesn’t really know how to help Aiden, and Aiden shuts down a lot. Aiden does have agency as a character, even though it’s usually self-destructive, so a slightly different whumpee vibe from Declan in his current arc.

Does anyone else know of anything?

has anyone got any recs for really shut down whumpees? just ones who don't beg, don't fight, just barely respond to the caretaker. I'm rly craving it 👀

[iincinere]

Really  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.    RULES.  repost, don’t reblog.    TAGGED.  stolen from @oceanpanic   TAGGING.  anyone who wants to subject themselves

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :   Blaire Scarlett/Blaire Fall (verse dependent with the Fall part) NICKNAME :   n/a AGE :   29 BIRTHDAY :  August 22nd ETHNIC  GROUP :  Mistrali/Chinese equivalent NATIONALITY :   Mistrali LANGUAGE / S* :  Common, Remnant’s equivalent to Chinese SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  bisexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :   biromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :   single ( Taken in Next Gen ) CLASS :   n/a HOME  TOWN / AREA :   Mistral CURRENT  HOME :   Salem’s Fortress PROFESSION :   Cultist/Assassin

PHYSICAL.

HAIR :  Medium length, straight, black EYES :   Amber NOSE :   I dunno it’s a nose, a cute one tbh FACE :   Round LIPS :   full COMPLEXION :  sunkissed BLEMISHES :   Few, she’s very meticulous about that SCARS :  None you’ll ever see TATTOOS :  Branded with Salem’s Eye under her left breast, partially hidden by her underboob HEIGHT :   5′8″ WEIGHT :   130lb BUILD :   slender / toned FEATURES :   n/a ALLERGIES :   none USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :   straight, bangs pulled away from her eyes, flat USUAL  FACE  LOOK : contemplative USUAL  CLOTHING :   Red halter top, black pants, parkour shoes, leather fingerless gloves, yellow sash across her waist

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :   failure / death / disappointing Salem ASPIRATION / S :  Whatever her Mistress desires / to become the Summer Maiden / to be Salem’s successor if anything were to happen to Salem POSITIVE  TRAITS :  loyal / intelligent / quick-witted / reliable NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  cold-hearted / manipulative / dishonest / sadistic MBTI :   No clue not gonna bother ZODIAC :   Leo TEMPEREMENT :  again not gonna do the quiz this laptop is on its last legs

SOUL  TYPE / S :   No Quizzes for me ANIMALS :  Might come back later though VICE  HABIT / S :  incessant foot tapping, chewing on the inside of her cheek

FAITH :  Salem’s Cult GHOSTS ? :   Yes AFTERLIFE ? :   Yes REINCARNATION ? :  Yes ALIENS ? :  yes POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :   ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :   SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : EDUCATION  LEVEL :   “Homeschooled”

FAMILY.

FATHER :    Unknown/deceased MOTHER :   Unknown/deceased (Cinder Fall in Next Generation) SIBLINGS :   Erika Summers, Aiden Summers (deceased) EXTENDED  FAMILY :   Pyralis Summers (niece through Aiden) NAME  MEANING / S :   Blair is an English-language name of Scottish Gaelic origin. The surname is derived from any of the numerous places in Scotland named Blair. These place names are derived from the Scottish Gaelic blàr, meaning "plain" and "field". The given name Blair is derived from the surname. The name Scarlett is an English name. In English the meaning of the name Scarlett is: Red. HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :  Blaire has a couple of allusions both intentional and unintentional.  Her name comes from the Blair Witch Project, in an effort to keep a naming tradition with Salem’s subordinates being named after witches (Note: My friends and I came up with this shit before Tyrian, Watts, and Hazel were known).  Her story also has developed to unintentionally resemble a reverse Anakin Skywalker.  Rather than be a kind soul who was corrupted, she was raised in evil and slowly comes to see the light, if not a bit too late.

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  Anything horror or historical MOVIE : I doubt Salem gets cable 5  SONGS :  

She doesn’t listen to a lot of music

DEITY :  Salem HOLIDAY :  doesn’t have one MONTH :   august SEASON :   Summer PLACE :   beside the Grimm Goop pools WEATHER :   pleasant, sunny days with a slight breeze SOUND :  the sound of her own breathing in the silence / the low hum of a Beowolf SCENT / S :  Wood fire / the breeze from the ocean / her girlfriend’s shampoo TASTE / S :   fresh fruits / a nicely aged wine / falafel  FEEL / S :  her fists against a sandbag / beowolf fur  ANIMAL / S :   dogs NUMBER :   4 COLORS :  red gold black

EXTRA.

TALENTS :   singing / contortion / things that are too NSFW for this  BAD  AT :  video games / math / learning an instrument TURN  ONS :   biting / scratching / hair pulling / blood play  TURN  OFFS :   anal / being slapped / anything that would cause nonconsensual pain  HOBBIES :   martial arts / singing / reading TROPES :  Big Bad / Sixth Ranger / Spy (didn’t have the laptop power to actually go on TV Tropes) AESTHETIC  TAGS :  x QUOTES :  "What do you know?  You weren't raised in her monastery for all thirty years of your life like I have been!  She loves me, Karissa, I know she does!  She only wants what is best!  Sometimes, sacrifice is necessary for the greater good...” --Blaire as she fights Karissa Hatch atop a crumbling building during Atlas’ destruction in the Next Generation AU

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC / S :  Velvet Crowe (Tales of Berseria) ALT  FC / S :  Arden Cho OLDER  FC / S :   Maggie Q YOUNGER  FC / S :  N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S :  Cristina Vee  GENDERBENT  FC / S :  

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ? A1 :   A crime drama, most likely.  I can see Blaire being an elusive murderer.  

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ? A2 :  somewhat like this, heavy guitar and heavy bass, very brutal-sounding

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ? A3 : She was created out of necessity.  We needed a villain for the Next Generation AU I do with my friends on Skype.  I saw a gifset of Velvet Crowe and it inspired me to make a character using her as a faceclaim

Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ? A4 :  I made her, I came first in this case lol

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse. A5 :   I think Blaire is a fucking idiot, tbh.  Not in the unintelligent sense, far from it she has a sharp mind.  She’s simply is blinded by her own beliefs to the point where she refuses to see what is right in front of her.  Salem is so obviously evil, but this is all she’s ever known, so I can’t fault her much.  Still, she refuses to let her girlfriend, Karissa, show her everything that is wrong with the way she lives.

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ? A6 :   I’m not entirely sure what Blaire got out of me, to be honest.  I mean, I used to have a tendency for blind faith, so she got that much from me.  I haven’t been that way for years, though.  

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ? A7 :   Oh she fucking hates me lolol.  I make her life hell, but she can’t complain much because she gets a somewhat happy ending sorta.

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ? A8 :   I really like writing with muses who can sense something is wrong about her, but don’t know exactly why.  I love it when she makes them uncomfortable and is just like “Something wrong?” because she knows.  And she just pretends to be a normal person, but on the inside she’s imagining what it would be like to break every bone in their body.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ? A9 :   The Doom 2016 soundtrack and Disturbed are good music to get me in the mood to write her.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ? A10 :  Fuck probably an hour

[distinctlywhumpthing]

idk about you but i would literally sell my firstborn for a future/more-recovered-aiden-chapter 👀

~ 🍯

Once upon a time, the scene of Aiden waking up in the back of Leo's van full of painting tools, thinking for a second he was seeing in monochrome would not leave me alone. Three years ago today, I posted the first part of Unintentional to start telling that story <3

As a postiversary present to everyone from the beginning (seriously, this ask is from 2022), here's a timeline jump. (Don't tell Leo, he's a real stickler for order.) Thanks for sticking with me and the boys <3

More Than This

Masterlist

Snap. 

Aiden huffs, twisting and grinding the broken pencil tip through the last stroke even as it threatens to tear through the paper under his force. 

He should be able to do this. It’s all he ever does now. Practice speaking, practice reading, practice writing. Follow the plans for eating, for exercising, for sleeping. He shouldn’t complain, he finally knows what to be. There was a time he’d have let a routine like this support him like it was his spine. He was given a role to play but all he does is just that: pretend. He hasn’t made progress in weeks. The only thing he knows is how precisely he is failing. 

Across the room, Leo stops typing. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been at it for a while.” 

He doesn’t need to look to know that Leo will have that concerned crease between his brows, mouth turned down at the corners as he tries to assess what the problem is this time. Aiden is nothing but problems. 

“I’m fine,” he mutters but of course Leo is coming over. Would have no matter what he’d said. 

Leo fills a glass at the sink and turns to lean against the counter across the island as he sips it. Aiden doesn’t want to see whatever look Leo is giving him that will just crumble his resolve. The triangles and circles on the page blur in and out of focus as he blinks back tears. Tears from the strain of making his damaged, useless brain process not-even-fucking-letters for the last few hours. Nothing else.

When Leo finishes his water, he fills a glass for Aiden, slides it in front of him. “I’ll do some work with you then.” 

“No.” He definitely can’t look at Leo now. 

Leo takes a measured pause.

The apology is on the tip of Aiden’s tongue but he keeps his jaw locked. Harder to stave off are the physical reactions. His body wants to shrink away, to flinch and hide and beg and be hurt and held. He tightens his fist around the pencil, pulling it into his lap to hide that he’s shaking. 

“I know you want to make progress but it’s okay to take breaks.” Leo makes his voice gentle, tiptoeing through the minefield between them. "It’s not going to send you back, you’ve been working hard.”

“Nnnno. I…mmm—” He shakes his head as if he could shake off the rising frustration coming up to tighten around his temples, his throat, his chest. He’s been trying to avoid the stuttered conjunction between every word, always made worse by times like this. Harrison guaranteed he would never get out of a painful situation too quickly. 

Leo steps up to the other side of the island, leaning onto his elbows to lower himself into Aiden’s line of sight. “C’mon…”

He shakes his head, can’t trust himself to speak coherently. He’s being stubborn and stupid. Harrison would have threatened him by now if he hadn’t already backhanded him. He never dreamed of pulling something like this back with Archer or the Songs.

  “Alright, hon.” Leo gave him one last long-suffering smile and turned back to the sink. 

Aiden swallowed a sob, furiously blinking away hot tears prickling his eyes. Leo was never going to push him more than a little. Lead him to whatever line he’d drawn or found, offer to help him step over it, but be the first to abandon the idea if it was too much. 

“Why?”

Leo shut off the tap. “Pardon?” He dries his hands on the bright salmon-pink tea towel threaded through the pull for the dishwasher. Delia says I shouldn’t be so allergic to real colors, he explained when Aiden pulled it out from the perfectly folded stack of muted earth-toned cotton in the cabinet.  

“Why?” Aiden repeats, voice strained by the tightening in his chest. “I…don’t…mmm—” He squeezes his eyes shut, pushes past the stupid mumbling. “Why?”

“Why what, hon?” Frustratingly calm and earnest, so eager to help in whatever he can. 

Aiden wants to scream. It’s not fair, it isn’t Leo’s fault, but whatever has been sparked rages inside him beyond his control. “Why…do…mmm…mmm—” He mashes his lips together, forcing his lungs to fill with air. He will not start crying. 

Leo tilts his head to the side. “Why do I…help?” Aiden shakes his head, huffing out a breath that is perilously close to a sob. “Why do I…care?” 

It puts a rock right in the middle of his throat. He lifts his chin a fraction. 

Defiant despite having literally no ground to stand on, Harrison used to taunt when Aiden was strung up on his table. 

“Because I do. I do care about you…” 

Aiden’s heart skitters in his chest. He looks away, all the wind gone from his sails because he’s as easily swayed as a feather. No. He won’t be weak, pathetic, and needy. He’s angry right now. Frustrated and bitter. 

“There’s no one reason—”

“I…don’t—mmm—mmm—” He clenches his teeth together until they creak in the back of his jaw, blinking away more of the hot tears that refuse to fucking stop pooling in his eyes. 

Leo stands there calmly, crease between his brows confirming that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. He’s worried. Always so worried and concerned and caring. 

Because he cares. 

Aiden stands, pushing away from the island and Leo. “I-I-I-I—” God, he wants to break something when it's like this. A wall he is just banging his head against, all the while becoming less coherent.

“Breathe,” Leo says, slowly rounding the end of the island toward him. “It will come. Just—”

“No. I…mmm…don’t…w-w-mmm—Fuck!” He slams his fist down on the counter. 

Leo doesn’t even flinch. 

Why should he? Of course he wouldn’t flinch. 

Aiden moves away from him, starts pacing back and forth. He wishes he could run, pound his feet into pavement until it dulls whatever is going on inside his head. 

“Aiden—“

“Not…mmm’my name.”

Leo’s expression falters. 

It’s a low blow. Aiden knows it, they both know it. All it does is deepen the disparity between them. Making him all the more desperate as Leo regains his composure. 

“If you want a different name—if you want me to stop calling you that, all you have to do is tell me.”

How can Leo be even calmer than before?

A sob escapes Aiden’s throat before he can swallow it. He turns away, circling the island to put it between them again. He doesn’t want Leo trying to comfort him. He doesn’t want it and he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I don’t want you to keep the name just because at the time you thought it was my place to give it. That’s not how I saw it then and that’s certainly not how I see things now.” 

Shame is oil on the fire, it only burns hotter. “Doesn’t…mmm’matter…”

“It does to me. I’ve never seen you as a Companion or treated you like one. I don’t expect anything, you know that.” 

“Fuck…you.” He surprises himself but pushes on anyway. Even steps forward so they’re closer, eye-to-eye, bold with the slab of stone between them. “That…doesn’t—doesn’t mmm’make a…difference. Doesn’t mmm’make..mmm’me…different—”

“Wait, that’s not what I’m saying—” 

“You—”

“I didn’t mean—”

He raises his voice to speak over Leo. “I’m’mmm…that’s…what-what…I am…” 

Leo waits to make sure he’s finished this time. The stretching silence makes his shouting seem ridiculous and Aiden burns under the unearned patience, the undeserved consideration. 

“I know,” Leo finally says.

“If you…don’t…mmm’w-w-want…this…why?”

Leo’s face falls and Aiden almost goes with it. He backs away from the gaping hole in his resolve. One misstep and he’ll be at the bottom of it, down on his knees. Putting a chink in Leo’s composure is no kind of feat. It only makes him feel that much closer to coming apart entirely. 

“Please,” Leo moves around the island, trying to get onto the same side as Aiden again. “It’s not that black and white—”

“Mmm…yes…it-is.” 

“But—”

“You-you…mmm…hate…it—” He points at Leo. Anyone else would have broken his accusatory finger. “You…hate…this…mmm’what…I am’mmm—” He backs away shaking his head. 

“Wait, no. Aiden, that’s not what I meant. You misunderstood—”

“No!” He wants to hit the ceiling. Better yet, put his whole body through a wall and get the fuck away from here. From these feelings. Leo wouldn’t follow if he went up to his room. Not even if he slammed the door and started breaking things. But he can’t. He’s only acting brave enough to set this fire, he could never leave the blaze unattended. Just like he’s only acting like he’s recovering into a real person.

It’s all just acting. None of it is real. 

Why?

He’s trapped and boiling, glaring at the charcoal-grey cabinets. He once put his fist through another one. A honeyed pine varnish with dark grain, an arched frame around the flimsy middle panel of each one. Hardly took any force to slam through it but he put his whole weight behind his fist anyway. 

Of course, Leo’s damn cabinets are solid wood. 

He cries out, turning away from Leo to slide down the cabinet he hasn’t so much as dented, cradling his hand against his chest. No point holding anything back now. He’s sobbing by the time he hits the floor, curling up tightly. 

When Leo comes over, Aiden’s reaction slips out before he can catch it. He shrinks back, sobs turning to whimpers. “Please…mmm’sorry, mmm’sorry…mmm’good—” He can almost see himself from above, staring up at Leo with those distrustful, unblinking eyes. Lips still moving through the shapes of pleas he’s crying too hard to vocalize. 

He hates that less-than-person. How little it controls and how much power it still holds. His shameless meltdown only puts him back exactly where he belongs. He’ll never be anything different. 

“I know, I know. You are good.” Leo kneels carefully, holding his hand out, palm up, between them.  “You don’t have to be sorry, it’s all good.” 

Aiden shakes his head, gulping in air between sobs, knuckles throbbing. “I didn’t—didn’t mmm’mean…” He didn’t know if the apology was for trying to ruin Leo’s kitchen or for exploding or for falling back on old habits. 

“I know, it’s okay. We’re good. Come on, let me give you a hand?” 

He swallows and tries to take a deep breath. Tries to compose himself, tries to get his mind to stop spinning through replaying and catastrophizing. He just wants—He needs—

“I—I used…t’be mmm’more than…this,” he blurts. 

Leo stops waiting for Aiden to take his hand and slides in next to him against the cabinets instead. They sit in silence long enough that Aiden starts to wonder if Leo even heard him but Leo finally says, “I know.”

Aiden bites his lip, afraid to look at Leo but he can’t look too closely at his hand or he’ll draw unwarranted concern. 

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” Leo says after another long pause. “I care about you. I’m here for all of it and I’m not going anywhere. I think maybe you know that or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“It's okay, hon. We're figuring things out as we go."  

Leo always means what he says so Aiden looks up, it’s for a different kind of reassurance. Leo gives him his half-smile, reaching out to squeeze the back of his neck. Goosebumps run down Aidne’s spine and he drops his head onto his knees, hiding his face. Leo wraps an arm around his back. 

Aiden has long since stopped preparing himself for Leo to pull away before he’s ready by the time Leo says, “So, how about that break?” 

He lifts his head from Leo’s shoulder, trying to gauge what he means.

Leo pulls him to his feet. “Come on, let’s go for a drive.” 

And his heart falls.

Masterlist

@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps

@batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight

@whumps-and-bumps @i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney (og asker?)

[distinctlywhumpthing]

This Time

(Unintentional 30)

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CW: BBU-adjacent (institutionalized slavery), brief references to past-beating, fear of noncon drugging. It's the boys' first time out in public together, we're being gentle, this is practically all fluff. Beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

When it’s seven o’clock and not a minute sooner, Leo says, “I’d feel better if you came with me.” He almost adds ‘this time’ and wonders if Aiden is also remembering the last time Leo left him alone while he ran into a store. 

Aiden’s eyes widen. “I…mmm…I…” He timidly raises a hand to the base of his throat, gaze falling as he does it. 

Leo tries not to read shame into his uncertainty. He clears his throat, wanting to sound as casual as possible. “I know. I looked it up and the law says you just need some form of identification on you. It doesn’t have to be…uh…” Nope, he can’t say it out loud. “But that’s really more if you’re on your own. If you’re accompanied…” 

He will also not be repeating the stipulation that in the absence of ‘wearable restraints’, anyone with a ‘plausible reason or concern’ may request that Leo ‘subdue’ Aiden or they are within their rights to do so themselves ‘by any means necessary’. Which unfortunately “explains” the bastards who tore him from the van that first night.

Leo runs a hand over his hair. “We’ll be in and out in five minutes, it’ll be fine.” 

Halfway to the door, Aiden loses his footing. Leo’s ready though, catching him with an arm threaded under his shoulders. 

“Mmm’sorry…” Aiden clutches Leo’s sleeve with his uninjured hand, leaning into him to steady himself. He doesn’t let go once he’s standing so Leo keeps an arm around him.

“No worries. It’s icy as hell and Converse aren’t exactly known for their traction.” They’re also not very warm so Leo ushers the wobbly kid on, making sure to steer him where there’s road salt or dry patches.

 They pause outside the door so he can pull Aiden’s hood off and make sure the scars on the back of his neck are covered by its fabric. “Hands out, right?” he reminds. Aiden nods. 

The last thing they need is some racist assistant manager on a power trip insisting on frisking him. Just the thought has Leo rethinking this whole stop. He’d never be able to stand aside and let that happen. The poor kid has already seen the worst at the hands of strangers; there’s no telling what reaction yet another pair might set off. Leo might be able to spare him the experience by outing him as a Companion but that isn’t exactly risk-free either. Leo doesn’t think he’d be able to make a passable demonstration of the “justice” he’d rain down later on his sticky-fingered Companion and even if he could, he’s pretty sure Aiden wouldn’t be play-acting terrified. After what he already had to put the kid through tonight, he doesn’t want to risk anything else testing the fragile trust between them. 

Aiden shifts from one foot to the other. Leo’s hesitance is making him even more nervous. The parking lot is still empty and Delia’s car has real locks and an alarm he’d hear from inside. Maybe there’s no need to take any risk—

“What-what…if…mmm’I…mmm…” Aiden looks over his shoulder to where he just slipped, furrowing his brow. 

There’s no way Leo can bring him back to the car now, not without confirming that he doesn’t trust him to manage his own two feet either. Sure, he’s not very stable on ice but it’s been weeks since he tripped in the house. Regardless, it’s one hypothetical Leo would happily handle.  

“You’ll be fine, you can do this.” 

Aiden drops his gaze. Leo can’t tell if it’s because he’s shy about the encouragement or if he thinks it’s just empty words. 

“I’ve got your back, kiddo,” he says, straightening Aiden’s beanie that doesn’t need straightening. “I’ll catch you if you trip again.” 

Aiden meets his eyes and only searches them for a second before nodding. 

Any remaining apprehension on Aiden’s part is eclipsed by a quiet overwhelm once they step through the door. His eyes widen and he looks even smaller surrounded by the full shelves, under fluorescent lights. He follows Leo closely, practically brushing against his side as though they’re jostling through a crowd and might get separated even though there’s no one else in sight. 

Leo steers his mind away from wondering too much about the last time Aiden was in a store. 

They walk along the even-brighter cosmetic aisle toward the prescription counter at the back. Aiden looks away from the little mirrors framed by bright red, pink, and coral lipsticks. His eyes trace the bottles on the other side instead, shampoos in colorful plastic, hairsprays in metallic spray cans, and gels in an array of containers all lined up in rows. He keeps his arms perfectly straight and pinned to his sides but his fingers twitch there. Like maybe he wants to touch something but he thinks he’s not allowed to. 

Leo pauses by the shower gel, earning a concerned if not startled stare from Aiden. “Easy, all good. Why don’t we pick one you like?” 

Aiden looks at him like he just suggested flying to Mars. 

Leo picks up the brightest red bottle, flips the cap open and sniffs. Nothing special, just a generic soap smell. He holds it out for Aiden who, slowly, eyes flicking up to Leo’s three times before he leans forward all the way, inhales too. 

“Anything?” 

He shrugs noncommittally, nervous now that Leo’s put him on the spot but Leo wants this to be light and fun, though that might be a leap. He goes for one that says ‘coconut-something island bliss’ in a yellow bottle. Smells nice enough. Aiden leans in a bit easier this time and, though barely discernible, wrinkles his nose. 

“I think not,” Leo offers. 

Aiden shakes his head. 

“Go on, pick another one.” 

He bites his lip and raises his good hand. Hesitates a few times as he scans the shelf before pausing in front of a teal bottle. His fingertips rub together absently as his gaze slides over to Leo, who gives him a reassuring nod. He carefully picks it up. Luckily, this one only needs to be pressed down to be opened and he gets it right away. He holds it out to Leo first—something floral this time—just shrugging once he smells it himself. 

But now he’s into it. 

Leo pulls a pink bottle off the shelf as Aiden chooses purple. Their arms cross in the air when they hold them out to each other and Aiden’s lips almost twitch into a smile. Leo wants to beam but he forces himself to play it cool. 

Aiden replaces his bottle and picks another red, ‘blood-orange orchid blossom’. It smells only of citrus because last time Leo checked, orchids don’t smell like anything so why even call it that except to fool people into paying more for something just because it sounds fancy?  

A black Axe bottle Leo is relieved Aiden also hates, Irish Spring, a classic Dove. Aiden only has trouble with one of the tops. Leo worries it’ll kill the moment but Aiden just passes it to him and finds another bottle. 

After a few more, Aiden goes back for the purple, or actually, ‘lavender fields in summer’, pulling it off the shelf again with about as much confidence as if he were playing Russian roulette. 

“Nice, good job.” 

Aiden huffs and tucks his chin against his chest, hiding a small smile that might just be relief but Leo hopes is something more. They feel different, this smile and the one in the car. Leo can’t put his finger on how they’re different but he finds himself willing to do just about anything to see one again. 

He has another internal debate about whether or not Aiden should be next to him at the prescription counter. In the end, he decides it can only help his case later if a neutral third party explains the medications to them both. 

The pharmacist is young and way too energetic for seven in the morning. Leo makes zero effort to match the vibe. He slides his license across the counter. “Hi, I’m here to pick up some prescriptions, please. Marshall.” 

“Marshall, Marshall, Marshall,” she repeats as she searches the system. “Leo?” she asks like it’s not on the license she’s holding. 

“Yep.” She passes it back and disappears behind the shelves. 

Aiden’s still as stone beside him. Leo smiles reassuringly but it’s no match for the basket of prescription bottles the pharmacist returns with. He should have read Noah’s notes to know exactly what they were getting into. 

A two-week course of—thankfully—liquid amoxicillin. High-dose naproxen for pain as needed. A refill of his paroxetine thanks to Delia. She’s good. He definitely would have skipped it to reduce the sheer volume of pills he would be picking up with Aiden. At least the pharmacist skips the instructions because she can see it’s a refill of a medication he’s been taking for years. 

The last is the worst. Alprazolam with an over-the-top warning that it “causes extreme drowsiness” and “do not operate heavy machinery”. Finally, the real nail in the coffin: “it’s a potent tranquilizer.” Five doses, no refills. He definitely should have read Noah’s notes first. 

Leo rushes to end the exchange and move on to damage control. He grabs a basket from the stack, sweeps the medications in, and resists the urge to rush Aiden out of the whole damn store. He walks them to the far right, along the cold cases of sodas and drinks and freezers filled with ice cream, bags of ice, and a smattering of frozen dinners, mostly for one. The opposite side of the aisle is lined with chips but Aiden’s eyes are glued to the pile of white paper bags in the red plastic basket. 

Christ, where to start? 

“Aiden, can you look at me?” He does, of course. Eyes shining and full of betrayal. “Hon, I know you heard some things back there—” 

“...good…” 

“What?” 

Aiden swallows, wets his lips. He’s clutching the bottle of body wash like it’s keeping him upright. “I-I-I’ll…be…mmm…good.” His eyes flick to the basket and back to Leo’s, pleading. 

“Of course you will. You are good. You’re always good, I know that.” 

No dice. Leo’s reassurances mean nothing, not with what he’s holding. He drops the basket behind him, an arm’s length away. The gesture is met with open suspicion. 

“Hon, the only thing in there that you have to take are the antibiotics. To fight off the infection in your hand. The liquid one Delia talked about, right?” 

He nods once but his eyes narrow. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Delia and Noah only wrote the other prescriptions to give you options. The pain killers, the anxiety pills, they’re only if you want them.” 

Aiden’s expression crumples and he shakes his head. Distressed by the suggestion that he would ever choose to take anything? Or can he only see the whole thing as a trick, a mockery of his agency or lack thereof? 

Leo’s heart aches for him. There’s nothing he can say that will erase all of that history or make it any easier to carry. “Okay, okay. I know this is overwhelming but I wanted you to hear it for yourself. I mean, from someone other than me. That way when you… If you… You can decide…” Aiden looks at him miserably, eyes still burning with betrayal. Leo’s only digging himself deeper. “One of the prescriptions is for me anyway,” he flounders. “Let’s just—” He reaches for Aiden’s shoulder but he steps back, out of reach. 

For a moment they just stare at each other. 

Aiden takes another step back and his eyes widen, surprised to find himself where he’s just stepped. Surprised Leo hasn’t grabbed him yet. His gaze slides from Leo’s face to a point over his shoulder and Leo’s heart sinks. 

The door? Would he run? Aiden takes a step forward, eyes still locked over Leo’s shoulder. 

“Wait—” Leo can’t handle the thought of losing this kid for the third time tonight. His eyes film over with tears. “Ple—”

Instead of walking around him, Aiden steps right into his arms. 

And then the sound hits his ears and Leo turns, shuffling Aiden behind his back for the shelter he was seeking. He wasn’t trying to run, he heard people coming in. He leans into Leo’s back, free hand gripping a fistful of Leo’s jacket so tightly Leo can feel how hard he’s shaking. They don’t have much of a height difference but he’s ducked his head to try to hide better, Leo can feel his cheek against his shoulder blade. 

It’s no wonder why—though Leo is impressed by his hearing—the guys are similar enough to the group that beat the shit out of him that first day. They laugh and banter their way to the first case in the aisle like this is just one stop in a fun night that’s still going. They pull out a six-pack of Red Bull and head to the registers without so much as a glance Leo’s way. 

He doesn’t move until Aiden does and Aiden waits until they’ve picked out a scratch-off and multiple vape flavors, joking with the cashier. Leo doesn’t bother keeping the judgment off his face with Aiden tucked behind his back. They stay, frozen like that until the pair amble out of the store. 

Aiden straightens, releasing Leo’s coat as soon as the first set of automatic doors slides shut. Leo turns to find him staring ahead unseeing, bottle in one hand and the other still closed into a tight fist. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Leo keeps his voice a whisper, all too aware they’re still in public. “It’s all right, they’re gone.” 

Aiden nods but only reflexively. He squeezes his eyes shut once, twice, blinking away more tears each time he opens them. His fist trembles between them, arm still locked where it was holding Leo’s coat. 

Leo’s nervous to touch the poor kid considering the mental whiplash he must have—thinking Leo might drug him against his will only to be forced to depend on him for some semblance of safety—but if Aiden’s clenching his fist as tight as it looks, he’s putting too much strain on his stitches. 

“Can I give you a hand?” Leo holds his out, palm up. 

A few days ago, he’d spent a whole bathroom re-tile brainstorming a phrase to use during these moments when he didn’t know where to begin. Something neutral, not explicitly offering help but still open-ended enough that Aiden might get what he needed.  

Without even looking, Aiden drops his hand into Leo’s, uncurling his shaking fingers to grip him tightly. Leo’s momentarily dumbstruck that it worked. Has to be a fluke. 

“You’re doing great. We’re almost done.” He wraps his other arm around Aiden who shudders, finally exhaling. Leo wishes he could just hold him properly, until he stopped shaking, until he felt safe, no matter how long it took. “I just need to grab a few more things and then we’re outta here.” He gives Aiden one last squeeze before releasing him. 

The list from Noah is actually in his sister’s handwriting, first the prescriptions with more specific instructions and then a bunch of other things. Before he attaches himself to that fucking depository of pills again, he grabs a bag of pretzels and another of popcorn off the shelf to add to the basket. It’s an obvious move but at least now the prescription bags aren’t staring at them.

“Sterile gauze and bandages,” he tells Aiden, who nods stiffly, falling in to shadow him as he weaves through the store. He could move faster but he can’t risk anything else going wrong just now. 

Aiden doesn’t react to anything else Leo adds to the basket. As much as Leo wants to involve him, give him some choice or context, he can see the kid is dead on his feet. He is too, has been all night. 

Clothing basics happen to be at the end of the last aisle on their way to the registers. Leo wonders how bad is it to get some for Aiden now. Probably not as bad as it was to let him go this long constantly borrowing Leo’s. A pack of t-shirts, a pack of boxers, a pack of socks. Black for sure to avoid his tendency to flat-out panic about stains. Evidently, even this strip mall CVS is influenced by the pretentiousness of the surrounding area: there’s a choice of organic cotton that costs about forty percent more. Leo wonders if that means he can permit himself to feel forty percent less shitty for not getting Aiden even one thing to call his own sooner. 

He’s not sure what to expect when they get to the register. The woman in her mid-forties has hoops in her ears and acrylic French tips tapping on the side of her lime green phone case. She unabashedly continues scrolling, even after Leo says hello until he finishes unloading the basket. 

“Morning,” she says offhandedly as she starts scanning and bagging. 

When Leo leans away stack away the empty basket, Aiden steps forward to soundlessly place the bottle of body wash on the counter. 

“And good morning to you too, darlin’,” the cashier says, winking theatrically. 

Leo is about to step in front of him, make some remark about the weather to pull focus, but Aiden flashes her a smile that is as dazzling as it is vacant. Leo finds it unsettling but the cashier laughs, joking about how Aiden should look her up when he’s ten years older. Leo forces a chuckle as he pays, shoving the receipt in his coat and telling her to have a nice day while he grabs the bags off the counter. 

She returns the pleasantries and waves at Aiden. Leo’s jaw almost hits the floor when Aiden wiggles his fingers back as they walk away. 

Outside, Leo shifts all the bags to one side, turning to offer Aiden his other arm. 

He holds on right away, glancing around nervously like he's a deer about to step into an open field. He can’t seem to decide if he should watch his footing or surroundings. The street lights cast harsh angles on his face, hollowing his cheeks and throat, deepening the weariness under his eyes. 

Night and day from the mask of a smile he’d pulled on inside and haunting in an entirely different way. Leo is struck again by how little he knows about Aiden, how much he may never know, and the fact that if he’s going to do right by him, he’ll have to be ready for it all.

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps 

@batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 29

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We're finally on the way home kids...

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery. Beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

The clock on the dashboard of Delia’s Honda glows bright blue, digital colon blinking between the six and five every second like a heartbeat. Only seven more minutes until the CVS opens. Leo scans the parking lot for the dozenth time. It’s still nearly empty, unchanged since they pulled in ten minutes ago after a drive twice as long as it needed to be. The pharmacy is the only store with any lights on, the rest of the strip mall’s windows and signs are dark. Errant snowflakes flurry through the light cast by the street lamps, inconsistent and sparse, borrowed from a passing storm. It would be peaceful if it weren’t for the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. 

Leo drags a hand over his face and takes a deep breath. He can’t even remember the last time he pulled an all-nighter. It must have been back when he was young enough for it not to feel like he’d been hit by a bus. Beside him, Aiden is still and quiet, save for the just-audible exhales he forces between pursed lips. Measured and even like he’s trying to stave off tears or panic or pain or some combination of all three. They hadn’t spoken on the ride over, both tensely checking the mirrors to make sure they weren’t being followed. 

Not that there was anything to say. 

…

He couldn’t even look at him.

If Aiden were a normal teenager—whatever that means—he’d be giving him hell. How could you be so impulsive? I already thought I lost you once today and now you’re jumping at the next chance? Do you have any idea what that would be like for me? Trying to get on with my life after they’d taken you back? Can’t you see how much I care about you? 

But he couldn’t say any of that. Didn’t know what to say, so he couldn’t look at him right now. Aiden quietly resumed his charade. Sure, the raid wasn't over yet but Leo couldn’t help wondering if he was putting on an extra show of cooperation as a demonstration of goodwill. 

Did he regret what he almost did? Or just the fact that he got caught? 

When he was sure Aiden’s eyes were closed, Leo looked into his face. The ruse wasn’t at all convincing, Leo knew him too well. For starters, the overwrought way Aiden managed his breath was a dead giveaway. A far cry from the gentle, inherent rhythm of sleep even he managed. Leo had clocked more minutes than he was willing to admit frozen in the hallway, letting himself feel an undeserved modicum of relief when that smooth sound reached his ears.

Just as telling was the determination in the tension of his jaw, only a little diluted by the way he was holding the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it from trembling. He was braver than Leo could ever give him credit for. He barely understood the first thing about this kid, yet here he was, reading every twitch of his brows and hitch of his breath like he had the whole frame of reference. 

Thankfully, this charade didn’t solely hinge on his or Aiden’s poor acting skills. The devil was in the details on this one. It was the set that truly sold it and revealed just how much practice Delia has had at this. 

Greeting cards crowded the windowsill, all sure to have handwritten messages on the inside. Either abandoned and repurposed or manufactured for this explicitly. A handmade quilt was tucked over the foot of the bed, balloons filled one corner up to the ceiling, and fresh flowers sat on all three tables. A hand-painted ‘Keep Fighting’ sign stretched across the wall with messages and names written over handprints. He recognized Delia’s handwriting in one corner. There’s no way she had recruited so many sympathizers so at least half of those notes and wildly different signatures had to have been done by her hand. Again, he was unsure whether to be unnerved or impressed by the level of dedication. Which was about as terrifying as it was comforting because maybe it meant the agents really weren’t coming back.   

And that was about all the time he could spend distracting himself from what the fuck was going on and where the hell was that damn sister of his. 

It was all he could do not to compulsively check his phone every second. Was it on? Was it even still in his pocket? What if he didn’t get service in this corner of the hospital? 

By the time there was a knock on the door, he had wound himself up so much that he jumped to his feet. In his flat-out panic, he forgot any recognition of the cadence of knocks and was certain they were caught but he was just pinned to the spot like an idiot. When the curtains parted, of course it was only Noah and he knew that, but he had passed the useful kind of adrenaline-fueled exhaustion about five hours ago. 

“They’ve given the all clear. Everything good here?” Leo’s obvious lack of composure earned raised eyebrows from Noah. 

He cleared his throat and straightened, his lower back tight after trying to conform to the chair. “As far as I know…they came in but a nurse made them leave before—” He resisted the impulse to look at Aiden who hadn’t moved, save opening his eyes to watch them. A deer frozen on the edge of the yard, afraid bolting would mean certain death. Ironic. “Where’s Delia?”

Now Noah looked caught out. “She’s, uh, she’s got her hands full with a…patient…” 

Leo struggled to keep his voice even. “What? Did they find something?” 

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s…look it’s better if you don’t know the details. I’m sure you want to get out of here anyway.” He cast a meaningful glance at Aiden. “Here are some notes for the prescriptions. They’re ready to fill at the pharmacy, antibiotics and—”

“Wait a second.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “How deep into this shit are you two? I’m grateful for what you did for us but this doesn’t seem like something you should be making a habit of.” 

Noah had the gall to chuckle—little shit—but when he saw Leo’s expression he quickly swallowed it. “Hey, man, I get it. There’s a reason I don’t tell my family. But I’m sure you know Delia well enough to know she’s not a ‘follower’.” He even used air quotes around the word. “We’re not even in the same unit. We didn’t realize we were both doing this independently until one of our shelter contacts introduced us.” Leo didn’t even try to mask his doubt so Noah continued, “For what it’s worth, it’s a lot safer for both of us having each other’s backs. But as you well know, the risks are never zero when you’re on this side of the law.” 

On this side of the law. 

The phrase twisted and turned in his head as Noah led them out through the labyrinth of back stairwells, quiet wards, and service elevators. It pressed against his thoughts as they huddled in a supply closet from a rush of doctors responding to a code blue. It loomed over him as he rested his hands on Aiden’s shoulders when he nearly jumped out of the wheelchair at the slam of a door. It echoed loudest when he was behind the wheel and it was on him to get them home safe. And figure everything else out. 

…

“L-Leo?” Aiden ducks his chin when Leo looks over, like he didn’t intend to say his name out loud and isn’t sure what to do with his attention now that he has it. He picks at the cuticle of his right thumb, lips moving like he’s trying to shape his words just right before speaking. After a minute of that, he presses them together, flattens his hands on his thighs and meets Leo’s eyes. “Mmm’sorry…before…mmm…” His chin starts to tremble and it’s obvious he wants to look away but he forces himself to maintain eye contact. “I-I-I…mmm…mmm…” 

“Alright, it’s okay.” Leo can’t bear the kid’s self-imposed confession. “I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand what might have possessed you but, anyway, we’re good. Water under the bridge.” It feels a little blunt and more than a little awkward but he adds, “You’re not in any trouble,” like Delia said dozens of times throughout the night. 

“Mmm…but…I’mmm…I-I-I…” Aiden furrows his brow like he’s still trying to find a word, lips moving, but tears well in his eyes, threatening to spill the longer he searches. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Leo repeats gently. “It’s all good.” 

Aiden doesn’t look placated at all. He balks at Leo, visibly distressed, lips quivering as he pauses mid-silent-syllable. 

Shit. That’ll encourage the kid to communicate more, just cut him off like an impatient ass. But if this is just some other backwards Companion obedience thing… Leo’s out of energy for trying to wade through how exactly to handle this. He has so much research to do. Is it even safe to do research?

“I’m sorry, hon. Look” Aiden flinches when Leo's hand meets his shoulder. 

He grimaces at Leo apologetically, shaking his head at himself. He swipes at a tear with the back of his hand and shakes his head again, a ragged exhale escaping his lips.  

“I know it’s not easy, we’ll figure it out together.”   

Aiden looks up, biting his lips together as he tries to blink back the rest of his tears. It’s heartbreaking to watch. Leo hopes he doesn’t think there’s any problem with him crying when he needs to. At the same time, Leo can also understand why he wouldn’t want to always be breaking down. 

“For now, let’s just focus on getting home, okay?” 

Aiden nods, pulling his hands into his sleeves and wiping away the last of the tears. He puts on a brave face.  

“Good boy.” 

Aiden looks away shyly. Leo opens his mouth to take it back, to apologize for saying something so patronizing, so offensive. He meant it more as a ‘good sport’, ‘atta boy’. He— 

There, behind the fist Aiden rests his cheek against as he pretends to look out the window, is a hint of a smile. 

Only this kid can shatter his heart and melt it in the span of five minutes. 

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@pirefyrelight

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 28

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CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Ongoing raid, fear of recapture, clinical/hospital setting, side-effects/consequences of medwhump (cerebrovascular). Beta-read by @alittlewhump <3 Second ask is from this list

Leo told him to stay still and pretend to sleep, no matter what. One of so few direct orders, Aiden could count them on his hand. The very same Leo had just been holding, fingers warming his, giving him one last reassuring squeeze before he’d let go. 

He couldn’t fail Leo.

Aiden pressed his hands into the bedspread to hide their shaking, to make them still. Starched-not-soft fabric in an orderly, woven grid under his fingertips. Hundreds of washes keeping it uniform for every new patient. Knuckles wrapped in the soft fabric of Leo’s sweatshirt. Left hand throbbing, forearms aching. Betadine and antiseptic sharp in his nose. The sounds in the hallway—the agents in the hallway. He knew those boots, those footfalls. He’d been here before. 

He was there. 

Beside the pool, clothes still damp from diving in, from sweating through what had to be hours of CPR. Dragged to his knees, slapped around, put in a van. The End.

He wouldn’t be able to give them his number this time, even if he wanted to. Except instead of taking a stand, he was simply too damaged. The idea of being beaten in front of Leo made his stomach twist and his throat tighten.

He couldn’t shake his head, squeeze his fist, find something, anything, to anchor him to where he was, who he was. The simplest task impossible. He used to be more than a passenger, an observer, recognizing less and less with each visit. Especially when it was like this, when he fell beneath the surface, into things that were muddy and murky and meant to stay that way.

He wanted to look, to confirm what he kept telling himself was true, but he had to keep his eyes closed. 

Leo wouldn’t leave him. Leo had promised. 

But the very foundation of the conditioning was doubt. 

With Archer it pushed him toward an impossible perfection. Empty responsiveness that only left him aching to do more, to be better. 

It nagged him constantly with Harrison but there was little to be done. Harrison took what he wanted, didn’t care what kind of vessel it came from. All of his memories returned were not enough to erase the conditioning, relieve the doubt. The ache to be deserving. 

He was certain it was worse to have both: what once was housed in the ruins of what he was now. 

Leo had no idea what he was taking on. Had no idea Aiden was falling to pieces in his own head when all he had to do was stay still and be quiet. 

He wasn’t meant to open his eyes but Harrison was peeling them open for him. Shining his penlight into one and then the other. 

“I know you’re awake.” His tone was terse. Frustrated? There was a complication? A delay? It was hard to follow, his mind slow to process. He tried to turn his head but he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t, he was strapped down like always. 

Leo had told him not to move.

Harrison snapped his fingers in front of his face. “I asked you a fucking question.” 

He blinked a fraction of a second after he thought of it. He couldn’t remember hearing a question. There weren’t any quips surfacing and he wasn’t sure he had the energy to speak anyway. 

He hadn’t felt this drugged before. 

He wasn’t. 

Leo—was Leo still there? 

“For fuck’s sake.” Harrison demanded all of his attention by undoing the straps. “You’re lucky we need to do this or you’d be kissing a taste of freedom goodbye thanks to your attitude.” 

Too slow to snipe back again. 

He cried out when his arms fell to his sides, so heavy now that he had to hold them, fingers tingling as the blood rushed down to his fingers. 

He had to stay still. 

“I don't have patience for your bullshit today. Do not test me.” 

He swallowed the next whimper, the reprimand curdling in his empty stomach. Unaware that Harrison had released all of the other restraints until he folded forward. Harrison caught him unceremoniously, wrapping his arms around him in a parody of an embrace that still made his heart race and his cheeks flush as if it were earned attention, a reward. Sometimes, he’d wriggle closer, moan in Harrison’s ear or whisper a few lurid suggestions. (Anything was better than being a lab rat.) Once even licked his neck but after that, Harrison had kept him unconscious for so long. 

As much as he had nothing to lose, would push every button he could find in a fruitless attempt to force Harrison’s hand, his nerve was riddled with holes. Whenever Harrison was gone too long, he’d wonder if he’d ever come back. Doubt warping fearful anticipation into longing. He’d miss Harrison. Miss the attention, even of his scalpel, when there was a question of it never returning. He was nothing if not what they’d conditioned him to be. 

“Alright, up you go.” Harrison’s voice still had an edge. They were in the other room across the hall but he didn’t remember getting there. Harrison pulled him to his feet, placed both of his hands on the rail bordering the room. “Let’s go, I don’t have all day.” 

He gasped when Harrison let go, overwhelmed by all of his muscles working together for a purpose. But there was something else too, something beneath whatever drugs Harrison always gave him before these bouts of “exercise” to make sure he wasn’t too much trouble. 

“I don’t feel right…” It came out slurred.

Harrison was busy on his phone and waved him on with his free hand. “You remember. One foot in front of the other.” He used the hard toe of his sneaker to prod against his bare heel until he moved. 

Left foot forward. One step at a time. 

His head hurt, ears ringing, vision wavering. Harrison would be furious if he passed out. 

Right foot forward. His leg almost buckled and he gripped the bar tighter. The room spun. 

“Something’s wrong.” The syllables were marbles in his mouth. 

Left foot forward. 

The fingers of his right hand slipped from the bar. 

He couldn’t raise them again, like his whole arm had been numbed. His heart sprinted and stuttered, drilling fear deep into his chest. “Harrison, what did you give me?” The panic in his voice was clearer than the words.  

“Whatever game you’re playing, I am really not—”

Right foot forward. The room tipped. 

Harrison caught him and let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m fucking serious. Stand up and finish the lap.” He tried to shove him onto his feet again but he couldn’t balance. 

He was crying now, tears sliding down his cheek. The ones on the other side lost in the fabric of Harrison’s lab coat. “I—I—can’t—I can’t—” No words came out at all this time, only sounds. “Harrison!” His vision spotted. Harrison lowered him to the floor, let him slump against the wall, listing sideways. 

His expression was out of focus but his voice was stern. “This is your last chance. Stop—what—what are you doing?” 

Harrison caught him again but he couldn’t feel where, only the other hand opening his left eye for the light. He didn’t feel his fingers on the right before his vision flared. 

“Fuck.” Harrison held two fingers to his neck, checking his watch. “Look at me, talk to me.”

“I—I—I’m scared,” he cried. It was nothing, it was moans and slurs. “Harrison, help me, please!”

“No, no, no.” Harrison laid him down. “Squeeze my hand.” 

His hand was empty, he couldn’t—

Harrison raised their hands into his line of sight. His right hand limp in Harrison’s grip. “Please, come on, Nothing. It’s nothing, you’re fine. You’re fine.” 

He couldn’t feel his hand. “What did you do to me?” Again nothing came out. He whimpered when Harrison rolled him onto his side. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

He must have been high out of his mind to hear those words. 

“Talk to me, stay with me.” 

How many times he’d wanted to say that himself but now he was the one leaving. 

“Beau, come on. Hold my hand.” Harrison wrapped both hands around his left one. He didn’t think he’d ever done that without gloves on. It felt so warm. “Here, see? Stay with me, Beau.” 

But Beau didn’t belong here. 

He had died when she had, when he’d failed her. 

“No, no, no.” Harrison was holding his face now. “Hey, ‘359. Come on, keep your eyes open. Trainee ‘359. That is a direct—” His voice broke. “Fuck. Please—”

‘359 was out of place too. 

Fragments and pieces, hollow on the inside, incomplete before he’d been given Beau’s purpose. 

A clean slate would always be empty, ‘359 couldn’t exist here.

“Please.” Harrison held him more carefully than he’d ever imagined him capable of. Like he was far from nothing, precious even. “Brandon. Forgive me.”

But he wasn’t Brandon. 

Or ‘359. 

Or Beau.

He only wanted to be Aiden. 

And even though he could still feel Harrison’s fingers entwined with his, he was Aiden. Aiden being careful not to make a sound as memories drowned him. Aiden not moving a muscle or opening his eyes, pulse sprinting in his chest as they waited. He couldn’t feel anything under his fingertips anymore, was growing more and more desperate to check that he was in fact lying in a bed and not waking up on the ground beside Harrison or worse already back on his table. He—

The door opening brought everything in his head screeching to a halt.

It wasn’t Harrison’s warmth still lingering on his hand. 

It was Leo’s. 

Leo who had found him, sheltered him, been so patient and kind with him. Had risked everything by bringing him here. 

He could keep still and quiet, bury his fear of what it would mean to go back, in hopes of selling this lie. To say nothing of what consequences Leo and his sister might face. He could never be the reason someone else was unmade. He owed Leo this, at the very least, as disappointing as he may have been in the rest of their short time together. 

Or did he have a different kind of obligation now? Not just to please and obey but one of higher grounds. To earn everything Leo had given him so freely. To repay selflessness with a sacrifice of his own.

One of the agents cleared their throat and Aiden knew this was it. If he went easily, quietly, they might leave Leo alone. As long as he surrendered before Leo had a chance to try and improvise. 

And he wouldn’t look at Leo at all. To make sure to implicate him as little as possible. 

There were voices in the hallway but he couldn’t catch the words over the way his heart beat so loudly in fear, thudding through his whole body. 

He promised himself he would tear the stitches in the van later. 

Being manhandled into cuffs might start the job anyway.  

He would—Aiden would do this to save Leo. 

He sat up and opened his eyes—

In time to see the backs of the agents as the nurse ushered them out, hissing something about “immunocompromised” and “goddamn idiots, don’t they teach you to read?” 

And Leo, staring at him in disbelief.

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings @peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup @mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump @aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @lavbug

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 26

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CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Past surgical/medical whump alluded to, hospital setting. OCD, panic attack, Caretaker struggling. Impending raid/threat of Whumpee's (re)capture. As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

Leo’s head ached, exhaustion weighing him down and diluting his expressions so that every time he tried to give Aiden a reassuring smile, the kid just looked more worried. Leo was bone tired. They both were. Delia had only told them one result of the MRI scan: there was no tracker, not even one that had been fried by the machine. So, in that respect, they were in the clear. She’d go over the rest later. Aiden was already shaking without an onslaught of information, tremors radiating through him, his gaze weary and unfocused. 

For the better part of the last hour, Leo had been sitting in one of the unforgiving chairs beside the bed, trying to coax Aiden to relax. Reassuring him everything was alright, asking if he needed anything else, blundering around just shy of making the outright suggestion. Hell, at this point, Leo was ready to admit it was just so that he could rest himself without feeling guilty. Fifteen minutes and he’d feel better. They both would. 

The day before, he’d torn up a whole first floor of scratched laminate and demoed a fireplace. His partner had noticed the push and asked him if everything was alright. He’d said he wasn’t sure, which now felt laughable. And like it had happened a full week ago. 

Leo had finally given in and let his eyes fall closed for a moment when the announcement came over the PA. Code Indigo. All floors. Code Indigo. Aiden clapped his free hand over his ear. 

“Code Indigo?” Leo repeated, fresh adrenaline pulling him to his feet. He tightened his grip on Aiden’s hand. “But you said—”

“It’s rare but it does happen,” Delia said, typing furiously into her phone without looking up. 

Leo wanted to knock it out of her hands. They needed her right now. Aiden's shoulders had crept up to his ears and his grip on Leo’s fingers was shaky. 

“But how did they find out? You don’t think—”

Delia finally put her phone back into her pocket and met his eyes. “They don’t know anything about him. It’s just a random raid.” 

A strangled sound came from Aiden and he pulled his hand out of Leo’s. He would have slipped out of the bed too but Delia was faster. 

“Easy, it’s going to be alright. We’re going to make a plan.” 

Aiden turned to Leo, eyes wide and shining with tears. His bottom lip trembled along with the rest of him. 

This poor kid had trusted him and now, in bringing him here to save his life, Leo might have just done the opposite. What if it would have been better to just let Aiden die on his own terms? Leo would never forgive himself.

He tried to swallow some of the panic and guilt climbing hand over fist up his throat. “Can’t we just make a run for the car?” 

His sister shook her head. “They cover the exits and parking lots before they even make the announcement. That’s the fastest way to get caught.”

Aiden covered his face with his hands, shaking his head. “Nnn-no…no…no…nnno.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Nnn—please—” He caught Leo’s sleeves in his shaking fists. “Please…mmm’I….can’t….mmm…I….can’t….mmm…” He pinched his eyes closed, freeing some tears, and swallowed in a way that made Leo want to ask if his throat was hurting. When he opened his eyes again, they shone with tears. “Please.”

Fuck, as if Leo didn’t feel guilty enough already. “I’m right here. I won’t leave your side, I promise. We’re going to get through this. Delia’s going to help us and—”

Aiden turned to her instead, releasing Leo. Apparently, reassurance was not what he was after.  “Mmm…please…mmm…I…can’t…mmm…can’t…mmm…” He gave up trying to find the word and held up his arm, hooking his index finger under the bandage to show her the rectangular scar on his wrist.

“Yes, I saw.” She lowered his hand for him, smoothing back the edge of the bandage. “Aiden, running away from your previous master means they’ll have your picture on the list of Defectors.” 

Previous master. Meaning he was the current one. Leo’s stomach churned. “Delia, if they have his picture—”

“Nnno,” Aiden interrupted. He raised his arm again. “Nnn-not…mmm’me.”

Delia narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t do this to yourself…when you ran away?” 

He shook his head vehemently, eyes darting to search Leo’s face for a moment. 

“You’re not saying—I didn’t think—” Delia tented her fingers around her eyes, like blinders, as though suddenly everything was too much. She started shaking her head. “You’ve already—they did this to you?” 

Aiden exhaled a sob, nodding. 

Delia swore under her breath. 

“What?” Leo wrung his hands, leaning to try to see Aiden’s face angled away from him. “What does that mean?” 

Delia blinked at him, clearly distracted by whatever revelation had just passed between them. That he was still not privy to. 

“Hello? We’re definitely running out of time.” It was impossible to see what was going on in the hallway with the curtains drawn around this half of the room. In his mind, it was already teeming with police or WRU agents or both. Any minute, they’d burst into the room and take Aiden away. 

“Right. It’s good news…I think.” She kneaded her forehead with her fingertips. “Aiden, I’m hoping this wasn't some sanctioned WRU program…?” 

He shook his head. 

“How many people knew where you were, what was happening to you?” 

He held up one finger. 

“Okay.” She nodded. “And you didn’t escape on your own?” 

Another no. 

Leo leaned his weight from one foot to the other without taking his eyes off the vague location of the door behind the curtains.

“This is good. Sorry but…how much do you remember?” She was keeping her face carefully neutral. 

Aiden didn’t say anything but Leo could see the muscles in his jaw working as he held Delia’s gaze. 

“And from before?”

Tight nod. 

Delia reached for Aiden's hand and he let her take it. “I’m so sorry, Aiden.” 

His face wasn’t quite visible but Leo could tell he was holding his breath.

“We’re going to get you through this and then we can help.” This wasn’t just textbook bedside sympathy, she had that fire behind her eyes and determination in her voice he’d known his whole life. “It’s really good you told me.”

Leo looked down at his hands, pushing the tip of his thumb into the meat of the other palm. There was a speck of dried blood along the cuticle of his right index finger. Maybe from when Aiden had started bleeding through the bandages earlier, maybe from even earlier and he’d just not washed his hands thoroughly enough. He glanced toward the door again, anxiety twisting in his gut. Maybe he had time to—

“Hey, Leo?” 

Aiden dropped his gaze as soon as Leo looked up. Delia was waiting expectantly.

“Sorry.” He lifted his hand to run through his hair but stopped just shy of making contact and let it fall. 

“You remember the plan we talked about before?”

Aiden was watching him from under his eyelashes. 

He tried to inject a little more confidence into his voice. “Right, yes.”

“Great. Just do everything I told you and you’ll be fine.” Delia patted Aiden on the shoulder before backing away.

“Wait, what?” Leo held up his hands like he could call time out on this whole thing. Seconds ticking away until they were found out. “You’re not staying?”

“I thought that was already clear.” 

Leo shook his head. She couldn’t possibly leave.

“I have other—” Her gaze flicked to Aiden and back. “Other patients who need me.” 

“What?” 

Aiden shrank back, almost imperceptibly, because he’d raised his voice. Shit. 

“We don’t have time for this.” 

He clenched his shaking fingers into fists but then unclenched his right fist when he remembered the blood on his finger. “Wait, but what do we do if someone comes in? What are we supposed to say?” Leo couldn’t even look at Aiden. Did not want to see just how much this was definitely making everything even worse for him. He rubbed at the speck of blood with his other fingertip but it wouldn’t come off. 

“Leo.”

He met her gaze, switched to trying to scrape the blood off with his fingernail. “What about you? What happens if they catch you? I thought this was a once-in-a-blue-moon thing—wait, Delia, is this a fucking felony?” 

At some point, she must have stopped backing toward the door because now she held out her hand, reaching for him. “Leo, just take a breath—”

He dodged her. “I just—I need a minute.” Aiden looked confused at best and rejected at worst. Leo turned away and made a beeline for the bathroom. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He blinked and was already scrubbing at his fingers, rubbing the soap into his cuticles and under his nails. He wasn’t even counting, just mindlessly washing. 

No, he really needed to not lose his shit right now. 

He couldn’t get stuck in this loop. 

Not. 

Right. 

Now. 

Leo forced his lungs to fill with air, rinsed the soap off. Toweled his hands dry. 

Just one proper hand washing and then he had to go. 

One, two, three, four pumps of soap. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three—

“Leo…”

He hadn’t even heard the door open.

Delia stilled both of his hands with one of hers. “How long?”

“What?” Leo let her rinse each of his hands under the water.

“How long have you not been taking your meds?” She turned off the tap and handed him paper towels. 

He couldn’t meet her gaze, focused on absorbing each errant drop of water. “A couple weeks? I’m fine, I managing it.” 

“I’m sure you were but now it’s caught up with you.” The careful tone his sister used revealed just how overly defensive his had been. She took the soggy paper towels out of his hands and dropped them into the bin. “This is a lot and it will continue to be a lot. You need to take care of yourself if you’re going to help him.” 

Leo flexed his fingers, trying not to inspect them too closely. “Yeah, okay. I know.”

“Come on, I really need to go and you’re going to be fine together. This is going to work.” She led him out and handed him the backpack she’d been forward-thinking enough to pack at his condo. “You know what to do. I’ll let you know when it’s all clear.”

As soon as she left, Leo wondered if he should have said a longer goodbye. Just in case. He had no idea what repercussions she’d face if caught, not that he had any better idea about himself. Aiden was the only one that really mattered and they needed to get going on this plan. 

Aiden was watching him, not quite warily but carefully, as he set the backpack beside him on the bed and started pulling out what they’d need. He ignored the compulsion to keep reflexively checking the door, tried to make his movements efficient but not visibly rushed.

“I’m sorry,” he said at the same time Aiden said, “Sorry.” Aiden huffed and dropped his chin. He was still shaking but had his mouth set in a determined line. Delia must have instilled a little more confidence in him about their plan to hide in plain sight. 

It would work. 

It had to work.  

Leo zipped up the half-empty backpack and dropped it beside the chairs. “Hon, you don’t have anything to apologize for. None of that—my reaction—was your fault.” He ran a hand over his hair, sighing. “When we get home, I can exp—”

“Leo?” 

There was so much care in the way Aiden shaped the air, as though the syllables might crack under too much strain. He kept his timbre soft, hesitant about borrowing sounds he didn’t feel he had any right to but in voicing them finding his own version of ‘Leo’.  

No way he could chalk this utterance up to his own imagination. A part of him still couldn’t believe Aiden had actually said it. He resisted the self-indulgent urge to ask the kid to repeat himself just to hear it again, to underline the significance of the moment. Instead, he cleared the lump in his throat and tried to sound casual. “What is it?”

Aiden didn’t react to the fact that Leo hadn’t managed to hide much of the emotion in his voice. He had pulled the sleeve of Leo’s old hoodie into his lap and was running his thumb over the frayed edge of the sleeve. When he raised his eyes, they were brighter than Leo had ever seen them. “Home?” 

“Yeah, home,” he whispered back, not sure how he was able to even find his voice this time.  

Aiden pulled the hoodie on, settling into it like it was a hug. 

Leo couldn’t believe the old thing was so meaningful but he wasn’t about to argue against anything that made Aiden feel safer. Especially considering the threat they were about to face. He held one of his beanies out, almost dropping it when Aiden bowed his head instead of taking it to let Leo put it on for him. 

He couldn’t quite blink all of the tears out of his eyes in time but Aiden kept his head down anyway, busy gathering the extra length of the sleeves into his fists. 

How could this kid not see how much of a hold he had on Leo already? 

When the door opened just a few minutes later, as they pretended to sleep across the room from each other, Leo was glad Aiden had a piece of home—a piece of him—to hold onto. 

No matter what happened next.

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings @peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup @mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump @aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 25

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CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Past surgical/medical whump alluded to, hospital setting. As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump &lt;3

Found. 

Found. 

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with ‘found’. 

It wasn’t good or bad or safe or pain or any of the others that WRU had made so bright and shiny and accessible they were practically glued to his hands. Even when he went deeper, spiraling down into the shadowy, muddled places he cared not to linger in, there was no space for it anywhere. 

Found.

It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was what it meant to Leo. 

And he had absolutely no fucking clue. 

“Aiden, I found you,” Leo repeated, like he was able to see exactly how long it was taking Aiden to glean any meaning from the phrase.

His head hurt, even with all the drugs he’d agreed to. That had to be a bad sign, a sign that they’d lied and the drugs were doing something else since they certainly weren’t eradicating all of his pain. He made sure his grip hadn’t changed around Leo’s hands. Leo’s hands holding his. Like maybe they were all that held him together. 

Leo was almost smiling, his eyes still full of emotion. A few tears had fallen just moments ago before he’d made an apology exactly like the one Aiden should have made and couldn’t make. Leo’s eyebrows were still raised because he expected this to mean something but Aiden wasn’t clever enough to figure it out. More tests that Harrison designed him to fail. 

He nodded once, holding his breath, hoping to hell Leo would give him some indication that it was the correct response or at least one that would earn him more explanation. 

Leo tilted his head a fraction of a centimeter to the left and took a breath but the exhale was shorter than the inhale, more audible. 

Fuck. 

Aiden flinched when Leo reached for his shoulder. “M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’re good.” Leo rubbed his thumb in circles over the starchy fabric of the hospital gown. 

He wanted to cry. He wasn’t good. None of this could be leading anywhere good.

Leo leaned forward, for some reason undeterred from driving at this point. “Aiden, the day we met. When you woke up in the back of my van, remember?”

Yes, he remembered. A promising first impression.

“That morning, I stopped to get coffee on my way to work and I found you—”

Found whatever lies Harrison had written, raising his hopes so they’d have even further to fall.

“I found you, unconscious in a snowbank off the parking lot—”

No…

“I-I thought you were homeless. I was going to give you my coffee but when I saw you—” Leo reached for his cheek and this time Aiden was too stunned to flinch. “—I just, I didn’t think twice, I wanted to help you, to keep you safe.”

None of this made any sense. Why would he make something like this up? What was the point? 

Leo let out a breath, like a sigh. Was he relieved? 

He was looking at Aiden expectantly again and Aiden wanted to scream. 

Why couldn’t Leo just give him the answer?

“I didn’t even realize you were a—” Aiden was left to hang in the full shame of what he was, what he had been reduced to. “—Companion. I just wanted to help. I’m sorry I fucked it up, not seeing what was right in front of me, not helping you as well as I could have.” 

There really wasn’t any point in trying to understand the purpose of this fresh test. 

Christ, it was convoluted and he was way too damaged to ever hope to follow. 

His throat ached from holding back sobs.

Nothing he could do would make anything better. 

Worse might be possible, but at this point, did it even matter? 

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t—Aiden, are you with me, sweetheart?” 

His gaze had shifted off Leo’s face to stare, unfocused, at the light of the MRI machine coming through the window. 

Leo searched each of his eyes, one and then the other, to make sure he was paying attention now. 

He burned under the valuation. 

“Aiden, I didn’t buy you, I—”

“Stop.” He stood, the chair rolling away behind him. 

Did he just say that out loud? 

He staggered back, away from Leo and in search of his balance. 

It was all too much, all of this was too much.

“Aiden?” Leo rose to follow him slowly, hands at his sides. Always so careful and calculating. 

“Nnn—please,” he sobbed. 

“Easy, it’s okay—” 

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his temples.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Leo said quickly. He reached his hand out. “I didn’t mean—I only wanted—”

“Don’t!” Louder than he’d intended, clearer than he thought he was capable of. “Nnn…please,” he added too late. Leo’s face had already fallen, just for a moment before he’d returned to looking concerned.

“Don’t…come near you?” 

Nothing could have been worse. Aiden let himself crumple to the ground, arms coming up around his head as he tried to fold away. To sink into the grave he’d dug for himself hand over fist.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Aiden shook his head, sobbing. Everything ached. “Nnn—please…nnno…don’t…nnn…lie—” 

After a while, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t said it out loud. Or Leo hadn’t heard his whisper. Or was pretending he hadn’t heard. He tried to quiet his crying to hear. Maybe Leo had left and now, finally—

“I’m going to come sit by you, okay?”

He didn’t move or object so Leo crossed the room and sat beside him. Aiden peeked out to see him dragging a hand over his face, elbows on his knees. 

“There’s probably a dozen better ways I could’ve explained that. Delia told me to wait, she was probably right—she’s always right. I’m sorry.” He sighed, glancing over and caught Aiden watching him. He smiled that half-smile, the one that made a few lines appear by his eyes, the one that looked so kind. “Hi, hon.”

He flushed, despite himself, despite everything, and was so glad his face was covered. Leo’s smile faded and in another well-trained reaction Aiden feared he was disappointed. He almost reached for one of the practiced responses, out of habit, to try to salvage the exchange. 

“I’d never lie to you, Aiden. I know there’s nothing to make you believe that’s not just another lie but I have no reason to lie to you, sweetheart.” 

Aiden couldn’t see the reason either. Unless it were just for sport, which would mean Leo was exactly like Harrison, and Aiden couldn’t face that at all. 

He lifted his head, resting his chin on his knees. His arms were starting to throb from holding his legs up to his chest.

Leo smiled again, same smile as always. 

Same as the time he’d torn open a bag of mini marshmallows in the parking lot, sending them skittering all over the slush, trying to bribe Aiden out from under his van. Same as when he saw Aiden waiting for him downstairs every morning. Same as when he came home every day. 

His heart hammered in his chest. It didn’t seem possible that he could be interpreting all of this right. That any of this was right for him. There was one way to tell. He was pretty sure he’d said it before, correctly, even though he hadn’t really meant to. He’d always been too afraid to practice. The name had never felt like it belonged to him to say. 

The sounds were all there, like they wanted to be spoken. He took a breath—

“Leo?” 

Aiden jumped and Leo put a hand on his back. “It’s just Delia.” 

“Hey, checking in. We can head back now.” 

They each took a side and lifted helped Aiden to his feet. Delia’s name tag clicked against her stethoscope as she leaned down to help Leo. He couldn’t read her name, of course, but there she was in the photo, a wry smile on her lips. He wondered if she had been instructed to look serious but couldn’t keep a straight face or if the security guard in charge of pictures had a sense of humor. 

This was definitely not a place for people like him.

This was a real hospital. 

Delia was a real doctor.

If Leo didn’t have any papers or a contract for him, they really weren’t anywhere remotely related to WRU.

All of that sneaking around had been real. 

What exactly were Leo and Delia risking by bringing him here?

“Sweetheart?” Leo’s hand on his cheek made him gasp. 

He looked between their faces. Apparently, they’d meant for him to be paying attention.

Leo caught onto his panic. “Hey, it’s okay.” He moved his hand down to rest on Aiden’s shoulder. “We’ll head back now. You don’t need to do the scan, okay? It wasn’t fair of me to expect that of you. You can rest a bit more until it’s okay for us to go home. Sound good?”

His head nodded automatically. Leo kept one arm around him as they turned toward the door. 

He planted his feet. 

Leo stopped guiding him. “Aiden?”

He just wanted—he couldn’t— He flapped a hand. What the fuck was that going to convey? He used it to cover his face instead, shaking his head. “Mmm’sorry…m’sorry…” 

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have time,” Delia said. 

The silence swelled as they waited for him, waited on him.

Leo and Delia exchanged a glance that made him want to evaporate. They were confused and he couldn’t fucking articulate a single goddamn thought in his head. This was not going to work or end well. He couldn’t do this. 

He kneaded his brow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Does it hurt, hon?” Leo rubbed his shoulder. 

Aiden shook his head and tried to swallow the knot of frustration building in his throat. “Mmm…I…I…”

Leo considered him patiently, with that concerned crease appearing right between his brows. 

Aiden couldn’t decide if it made him want to fall into his arms or at his feet. 

He should just be cooperative and go back. 

But maybe it wasn’t only selfish. Leo deserved to know. Even if he pretended it didn’t matter how damaged Aiden was. Not to mention whatever that meant if Leo hadn’t even wanted a companion in the first place.

Now, he’d done it. Tears started running down his cheeks. He swiped at them with the back of his unbandaged hand but they kept coming. He groaned and it just sounded like a sob. 

“Aiden, honey. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

He wondered erratically if he might actually respond better to having it beat out of him. If all of this kindness and patience and consideration was what made him flounder. How could Leo still be so patient with him after the tantrum he’d thrown earlier?

“I…mmm…mmm…” Forget about want, need, have to. It was like Harrison had reached in and removed specific words from his head. Which was exactly the reason why this was so important. He pointed at the black monitors lined up under the window, cringing at how debasing the monkey-gesturing was. “…please?”

“You—you want to do the scan?” 

Something released inside of him, letting free a sob too. He nodded, wiping his face again. 

Leo’s brow furrowed even more. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I didn’t think—”

He shook his head quickly, now crying in earnest. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have done or said anything to make Leo—

“Alright, okay. Hey, Aiden, hey.” Leo moved closer, squeezing both his shoulders. “It’s okay. If this is what you want, we’ll make it happen.” 

He sniffled and nodded. He wanted to sink into the floor for making so much trouble. For the way it was making him feel to have Leo gently thumbing the tears off his face and acting like everything really was going to be okay.

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would aiden be able to correctly say leo’s name, since he has problems with his speech? would it be different to the whole master / mister situation ? but on the other hand, if he did that would probably mean he would recognize that he is somewhat safe (and not expected to be a pet) ? which would make me just sob

Unintentional 24

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As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Surgical/medical whump, hospital setting.

“Alright, up you go.” 

Leo had to let Aiden’s hand go to move out of the way so Delia and Noah could help him out of the wheelchair to sit on the bed of the MRI machine. Aiden looked like he was holding his breath, all wide-eyed under the doctors’ hands even though neither one was wearing gloves and they kept up a steady stream of reassurances. 

It reminded Leo of that first day when the kid had grabbed a paint scraper and made like he was going to attack but went blank as soon as Leo touched him. It had happened a couple of times since. Aiden would just remove himself from the equation entirely like he had no say or didn’t want one. It always unsettled Leo. 

“You’re doing great,” Delia said. “Have you had an MRI before?” 

Aiden nodded, one bob of his head followed by the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed nervously. The tears had started as soon as they’d entered the room. Just silently falling but he kept his jaw set in what Leo hoped was determination. 

He gave Aiden his best reassuring smile, shifting from one foot to the other, hands jammed in his pockets. He didn’t want to crowd them but he felt weird standing away and just watching. 

But what could he do? 

This might be difficult but it was also important. Leo had already tried his luck going in blind and that had almost ended in catastrophe. He needed to know more if he was going to do a better job. 

They’d explained it to Aiden and he’d agreed. 

It wasn’t like Aiden was going to be able to tell them what he’d been through or what suffering he might still be enduring. He’d already done so well with the IV and letting Delia redress his arm. 

Were they asking too much of him? 

Just because the MRI was painless didn’t mean it would be easier but his earlier successes had seemed promising. Still, there was no telling what kind of history they were pushing Aiden to confront with this next ask. It wasn’t as if his agreement offered any reassurance either.

He’d agree to fucking anything and everything. Whatever he thought they wanted or needed no matter what it cost him. That was the whole goddamn point of the Companion enterprise. Aiden had been relieved of his agency. It didn’t matter if they asked and triple-checked or praised him for giving them some answer so maybe the next one would come easier. It was asking too much of him. 

Delia had told Leo it was dubious consent and that it was all they could get at this stage anyway.

They needed these answers. They needed fucking anything to go off.

This was their best chance. 

“Okay, so you know what to expect…” Noah started to explain the process anyway. 

Aside from his eyes, flicking between their faces, blinking tears free with each pass, Aiden was perfectly still. Leo couldn’t tell if Aiden had stopped holding his breath yet. Probably not because Delia was checking over his bandages one more time. Leo didn’t know what he could do to make this any easier.

When Noah lifted some plastic contraption off the table, Aiden hiccuped a sob. 

Delia rubbed his back. “Are you doing alright?”

He nodded but also seemed to sink a little deeper into being absent, gaze becoming less focused. 

It made Leo’s chest feel tight. Or maybe it was residual stress from sneaking through the hallways to get here.

“Alright, let’s get you settled in.” 

He cleared his throat to ask if Aiden needed a minute but Noah was already helping Aiden lie down and he was going, if a little too easily. They pulled a blanket over him and started fitting the headframe. 

When Delia snapped the first clip closed, Aiden whimpered and grabbed hold of the edges of the bed, fingers creating visible dents in the plastic cushioning. 

Leo halved the distance between them without even realizing he’d moved. “Aiden—”

“You doing alright, Hon?” Delia asked. Leo held his breath, waiting for the answer.

“Mmm…yeah…mmm’good….mmm’sorry...mmm’sorry…” His voice was thin with hardly any weight behind it. 

“It’s okay. You’re doing great, Aiden.”

Snap. 

Aiden continued the string of mumbled apologies. A reflex. One he was so accustomed to, he didn’t even notice he’d forgotten to turn it off. 

Snap.

His voice started fading, down to syllables breathed instead of words spoken. The pauses between growing longer, sounds coming slower. 

Snap. 

Like he was drowning. 

Leo craned to see Aiden’s face over Delia’s shoulder but he couldn’t find the right angle in the spaces between the headframe and Noah fussing over the machine settings. Delia was explaining what she was doing, speaking to Aiden normally. He was probably fine. 

Well, not fine, but as good as he could be, all things considered. It would be counterproductive if the kid saw him panicking. Leo forced himself to take a deep breath. He was just tired and irrational, strung out on adrenaline and a healthy dose of guilt. 

Which was even worse now that he’d put this burden on Aiden’s shoulders, all the pressure to get answers. He wished he could have been good enough to not need them. 

He jammed his fists back into his pockets and made himself step back, swallowing his discomfort. 

There was no way he could have heard it.

He probably just imagined it. 

At the same time as the last snap.

And Noah saying, “Alrighty.” 

And Delia repeating, “All set. You’re doing great.” 

Maybe he felt it more than heard it. A tear falling, his heart beating. 

“…Leo?” 

It felt like the floor fell out from beneath him.

“Wait, stop!” He rushed forward. “Delia, take it off.”

She hesitated, hands hovering above the last clip. “What?” 

Aiden’s gaze was unfocused but his face betrayed no signs of discomfort.

“He said—I thought…” Maybe Leo had just imagined it. But the uneasiness continued to sink into his diaphragm, making his chest feel tight and his hands tingle. This hadn’t felt right from the second they’d walked in here. “Never mind. Just take it off, it’s not okay. This isn’t okay.” He started fumbling with the clips himself until Delia and Noah took over, quickly removing the frame and helping Aiden to sit. 

He blinked at Leo. Well, more like at the wall beyond Leo’s left ear. Attentive but avoiding direct eye contact. Like he had done something wrong. He thought he was in trouble. 

Leo’s urgency evaporated, replaced by guilt and a familiar ache. He was always one step off-beat. Too little, too late. He took a deep breath and tried to keep the intensity he was feeling out of his voice. He’d already scared Aiden enough. “Sweetheart, you’re good. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.” 

Wide, shining eyes finally slid over to meet his. 

“Hey—” He reached out to wipe a tear off the boy’s cheek with his thumb. “Aiden, you don’t have to do the scan. I was wrong. I thought—” 

Aiden tipped into him and as soon as Leo hugged him back, he looped his arms around Leo’s neck and started sobbing. 

“Okay, okay. Alright, sweetheart.” Leo wrapped his arms tighter around Aiden and pulled him close. Gave him the kind of hug he’d always been afraid would feel like a trap. He was starting to see it had a different purpose. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Aiden.”

Maybe Leo had only imagined Aiden saying his name but at least it meant Leo had heard him when he wasn’t okay. 

Delia wrung her hands. “I’m sorry, Leo. I thought he was managing—”

He waved her off, shaking his head. “It’s okay, my fault,” he whispered. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Of course,” she said quickly, turning toward the door. 

Noah hesitated and looked at his watch but Delia clicked her tongue and grabbed him by the sleeve. 

Aiden had settled into crying quietly, something closer to whimpering. 

“Hey, come on. Let’s get you away from all this.” Leo slid an arm under Aiden’s knees and scooped him up. He carried him into the observation room on the other side of the glass. They hadn’t turned on the lights in here so it wasn’t as bright. Just a couple of chairs and three dark monitors on the desk facing the window. 

Leo wished he could carry Aiden straight home where he knew they were safe. As safe as they could ever be in this situation they’d found themselves in. 

They would get there. 

Right now, they had a shrinking window.

He carefully set Aiden in one of the chairs and stepped back to pull one over for himself. 

That’s when he saw it. 

Aiden’s hands, resting in his lap. A posture so ordinary, he would have dismissed it immediately to look somewhere else. Aiden’s hands were shadowing Leo. Millimeter by millimeter. He never would have noticed if he hadn’t been watching it happen. 

Not following but reaching. 

It was so simple. How had he been so blind? 

He sat as close as he could, so their knees were almost touching, and gathered Aiden’s shaking hands in his own. Aiden held him back, fingertips curling into his palms and wrists. Trying to tether himself to the contact, to the closeness, to the comfort. 

It was so fucking simple. 

Aiden only held on tighter when a tear slid down Leo’s cheek. 

And then the words came tumbling out, breathless and without any pause because he couldn’t let Aiden wait another second, not even for Leo to compose himself with a breath. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Aiden. I’m sorry I didn’t get it and I didn’t see you. I’m so sorry you were alone. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t found you in time. I’m so sorry.”

Aiden opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Closed it instead and shook his head. His eyes fell from Leo’s face, his brow knitting together, and he started to pull his hands away. 

“Hey, look at me.” Leo held onto both of Aiden’s hands in one of his and used the other to lift Aiden’s chin. “It is not your fault, sweetheart. We’re going to figure this out. Together, I promise.” 

Aiden searched his face, just like always. 

This time was different. Leo could see it was more, feel it was more. It wasn’t simply Aiden searching for a trap or a threat, purely defensive. 

It was equally vulnerable. Always had been. 

Aiden could still manage to strike a match amidst all of the darkness he had encountered and still had shadowing him. Unfailingly producing a fragile flame to hold up to Leo. And in doing so, illuminating just as much of himself. 

It was an opportunity, it was a chance. 

To shelter the delicate light between them and share in its warmth. 

To be seen, to be known. 

And Aiden was inviting him. Aiden was giving it to him. He wanted Leo to step closer, cup his hands around the flame and never leave him in the dark again. 

After a minute, Aiden held onto Leo again, just a little more timidly than before, and Leo had made up his mind. 

It was so fucking simple. 

He took a deep breath. “Aiden, I need to tell you something.”

 

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Masterlist

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Can we have the classic whumpee breaks something and is afraid caretaker will punish them for Aiden? 🥺🥺🥺

Unintentional 10

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CW: BBU, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, dissociation/anxiety, drug mention, paranoia, surgical/medical whump implied and subsequent “side effects”, explicit language.

@alittlewhump is the best beta reader! (Go read Peter & Joy!)

Aiden knew he should have been more afraid of everything he couldn’t see downstairs. The lights were few and dim and didn’t illuminate any of the corners. He could squint at them all he wanted and only see blurred fuzziness. There could be anything in those shadows. Untold horrors, lurking, to reveal exactly the type of master he had or exactly the kind of life he might have here. But he couldn’t make himself feel very frightened. He felt so warm he could shiver. In a pleasant way. And the soft orangey-yellow lights just echoed the feeling. Maybe he was naive to immediately like it here, but after where he’d just been—

He dug his heels in before the thought could nosedive into a full-on flashback and made himself focus. Leo—Master had sat him on a stool at the kitchen island and was pulling things out of the fridge with his back turned. Aiden didn’t know how to insert himself to help. Especially, considering Master had helped him to the stool and told him to “sit tight and relax”. The first part was as close to an order as he’d heard all day. The next part was probably a reference to how fucking uncoordinated he’d proved himself to be. It was unlikely he’d be asked to do much helping, he couldn’t be trusted. He didn’t even know his designation. Not that it had ever mattered in the past. His throat felt dry. What could WRU have deemed him useful for in this condition?

“You good? Hand okay?”

Aiden whipped his head up and quickly collected his hands in his lap. His fingers were aching from the way he had been gripping the sides of the stool but the bandage over the cuts from the car door was still perfectly intact.

After the bath, Leo had wrapped him up in not one but two of the massive, soft, fluffy towels to wait, sitting on the countertop in the bathroom, while he went to find clothes. Leo had come back chuckling softly, with that crinkly smile. Aiden had been so focused on Leo’s face, he hadn’t caught exactly why the outfit lit up his expression so much. But it made him smile, too. Of course. It was a trained reflex, mirroring, and all that. But it was like the bubble bath, definitely not meant for him, but Master was giving it generously and freely, and he wanted it.

He couldn’t stop it from feeling good. He couldn’t stop himself from feeling good.

And maybe it wasn’t a bad thing, even if there was nothing left for him to trust. Nothing left for him to trust with. But he’d been able to sit still and keep quiet—miraculously because there were a million odds stacked against him—while Leo had cleaned the cuts and bandaged his hand.

“That’s it. Good, that’s good. You’re good. This will be fine.” Leo had streamed pleasantries the whole time and Aiden let himself ride the waves of heat that bubbled in his chest like he was still in the tub. It had helped that Leo’s fingers had been warm and gentle and the cream he dabbed on didn’t seem to have any scent at all, or at least not one that could overpower the fresh-pine soap clinging to his skin and the steam on the small window. So, maybe it was good, maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad, this time.

Leo was waiting for an answer. Patiently, his hands on the counter, palms up. Aiden could see trays of ground meat stacked next to a frying pan behind him. A cutting board with tomatoes and lettuce.

He forced his head to nod.

Leo’s brown eyes traced his face, with that crease appearing between his eyebrows. The inspection didn’t make him shrink back like it probably should have. But then Leo kept looking, searching. Expecting.

His fingers returned to the wooden seat underneath him but he managed to keep looking into Leo’s face. He needed to not be so fucking damaged. The silence wasn’t cutting it anymore, that’s what Leo’s face said, after all, he had been too patient, too generous. Aiden had to pay up. He swallowed. He had to figure out how to form a coherent sentence before he was returned.

“Mmm…please…mmm—”

What did Harrison—why couldn’t he just—

His hand was throbbing from how tightly he was gripping the stool.

“Mmm…I…mmm…Mister…”

No, this was unacceptable. He couldn’t possibly be expected to satisfy in any capacity—Had he been drugged? That had to be it. But that meant—He shook his head but his heart started racing. Of course, there was only one thing he was good for anymore.

“Nnnn…mmm…please…nnn…”

Master opened his mouth and closed it again. His forehead creased, eyebrows pulling together. Aiden noticed a few tiny flecks of white there. It had to be paint and not signs of age, Master was still young. Young and strong—

“Easy, easy.” Master reached out and Aiden recoiled, nearly tipping himself and the stool over, but Master was faster. He caught a handful of the front of the borrowed sweatshirt and prevented the fall, tugging Aiden upright again. The front legs of the stool tapped back onto the hardwood and Master let go and backed away. He kept his hands raised in front of him. “It’s alright, you’re alright,” he said softly. “Just settle down. I’m not gonna hurt you, Bud.” Master kept backing up until he was standing against the opposite counter but Aiden didn’t take his eyes off him even though he stopped seeing any details.

He wrapped his arms around himself. He was shaking again and his stomach felt heavy. The longer he thought about it, the higher his certainty, the more it felt like swallowing pieces of lead. One by one, slowly but surely, scraping down his esophagus to weigh him down and pull him under the surface. He had slept most of the day but he would have woken up if he’d been stuck with a needle. It couldn’t have been the food he’d thrown up or the coffee he’d mostly spilled. He’d seen Master open the bag of sweet little things in the parking lot. Unless they came laced with drugs. His head hurt.

Master moved and Aiden straightened, blinking to make his eyes focus so he could prepare himself to take his punishment well.

“It’s alright, it’s alright…” Master just slowly turned around to tend to the dinner Aiden should have been cooking for him. He moved to a cabinet to pull out bowls and plates. “Food’s almost done…” He set the plates aside and slid a few bowls of different sizes toward Aiden. “Wanna give me a hand?”

Aiden had no idea why it was being posed as a question and such a gentle one at that. He nodded and made himself speak, “Mmm…thank…mmm…Mister…”

It was all he could do not to grimace himself. He just could not get it right no matter how hard he tried but Master didn’t seem to notice. He was busy moving shredded lettuce and diced tomatoes off the cutting board and into their respective bowls.

He nudged a blue bag toward Aiden. “Can you put the chips in the big one?”

Aiden reached for the biggest bowl, hands shaking just enough that Master gave him a half-smile and a nod. He used his good hand to pull out the bowl closer and then picked up the bag of chips. Part of him thought he recognized the photo or the logo but he made sure not to look too closely and instead watched Master shake shredded cheese into a bowl.

“You know, I’ve always thought it was funny,” he said, righting the bag and looking down at it. “It says ‘Mexican Cheesy Queso Cheese’, but queso is just ‘cheese’ in Spanish. So, it’s ‘Mexican cheesy cheese cheese’?” He held up the bag but Aiden was only focused on the way Leo had one eyebrow quirked and his grin was clearly holding back laughter.

Aiden felt his lips tugging themselves into a smile. His fingers kept working to find purchase to open the top of the bag.

Leo chuckled, shaking his head, and started pulling out silverware.

It wasn’t so much that Aiden’s fingers slipped, although it felt like that, but it also felt like he just didn’t quite have control all the way to the ends of them. His other hand didn’t lose its grip on the bag but he’d been tugging so hard that the momentum sent his elbow knocking into the bowl. It teetered around like a coin, circling the diameter of the base, almost settling a few times but gravity kept it spinning. Slowly, surely, right over the edge of the countertop to smash against the floor and the legs of the stool and it didn’t even matter. Now it was just a heap of jagged ceramic, white against the warm coffee-colored floor.

Aiden tumbled after it onto his knees, sending his stool and the one beside it toppling down as well. Each percussion echoed through him, making him cower lower to the ground, closer to the floorboards. He searched the pieces desperately, hands shaking, for one large enough to be used as a foundation to rebuild the rest.

But it was all too splintered.

There was no hope. Not a single shard. Not that he’d be capable of the finesse required to fix it. Not that fixing it would make any difference at all.

His heart froze in his chest as footsteps started toward him.

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 8

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CW: BBU, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, panic/panic attack, dissociation/PTSD flashback, surgical/medical whump implied and subsequent “side effects”, explicit language.

Aiden leaned against the sink while Master pulled the shower curtain open. It was plastic with hundreds of the same orange goldfish all over, shining and warping as they were folded into an irregular accordion. He turned on the water that sprayed from the shower before he redirected it to thunder into the empty tub. Aiden knew the sound, recognized it as familiar, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bath. Given a bath? Been given a bath? His head hurt. He rubbed his forehead with a shaking hand.

Master turned and he jumped, quickly dropping his hand to grip the edge of the countertop. He didn’t want Master to think he was any weaker than he already couldn’t help being or, worse, that he was complaining about the pain.

“Easy, Hon.” Master gave him that crinkly smile, the one that made him seem like maybe he could be Just Leo, and slowly reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

Aiden dropped his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t stop shivering. Probably because he was standing there in the soaking wet pajamas. Why hadn't they given him the standard-issue clothes? It was like they wanted him to fail, sending him out looking like the botched experiment he was. All the blankets and Master’s coat were downstairs on the couch. He wished he had somewhere to hide.

He really was so screwed. This whole day had been a disaster and there was still a long way to go. Master had talked about cooking dinner the whole way home and Aiden wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be instructions or a lesson or a test but he had only caught every other word as he’d checked the rearview mirrors and tried not to imagine how angry Master would be that he hadn’t listened and waited and been good like he was supposed to. Sit. Stay. The one thing that he was told, that he could actually do, and he’d failed so miserably.

“—sound good?”

Aiden stiffened. He slowly raised his eyes, searching Master’s face. His expression was neutral enough but that meant nothing. Aiden didn’t know this man or his expectations. Well, at least he had already been shivering so this shaking didn’t stand out. What had Master just said? It could have been anything. Aiden chewed his cheek and tried not to cry. He was just so fucking miserably useless. What good was he if he couldn’t even listen?

He made himself nod, slowly at first then with more intention once Master looked satisfied. His shoulder got another squeeze and then Master left him alone, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was tempting to just curl up in a little ball, he was so cold and all of him hurt, but clearly Master wanted him clean. And it didn’t matter what he felt or wanted or needed, the only thing that mattered was that he didn’t get sent back.

The bath was about halfway full, steam rising off the surface. He leaned closer to the tub, one hand still holding onto the countertop. Master had put something in the water so islands of little bubbles formed. Neither the look nor the smell of a proper bubble bath. It was pine and clean and fresh, something else. He found the bottle, half-hidden on the corner beside the bunched-up shower curtain, a dark-grey color with a logo that was almost familiar. He redirected himself before his eyes could start tracing the words or he remembered too much. The water, the bath, it looked…nice.

He continued to watch the water run while his fingers fumbled with the buttons of the pajama top. His hands were nearly useless. One wasn’t cooperating because the fingers were swelling and throbbing, altogether too hot. The other was stiff like he’d held it in a bucket of ice. He was trying very hard to ignore all of the numbness underneath the cold, wet pajamas. No, he really could not think about that right now. He wouldn’t.

Buttons be damned. He grit his teeth and just pulled the shirt over his head, wincing as it caught on one ear and the cold, wet fabric dragged over his scalp. He let the shirt fall to the ground and turned to lean over the sink, stomach churning. He squeezed his eyes shut, definitely not looking in the mirror, and pushed everything from his mind. Focusing on the warmth beneath his feet. Even the stone countertop was a bit warmer than the skin of his forearms. The warmth was good. It meant he could feel. It meant the pain would stay and if it got too bad, he would get to pass out. Warm was good, it was safer than numb. He just needed to get warm, to stay warm. The bath would be warm. He only had to get there.

Even though it had only been seconds, a minute or two at most, he had to blink to get used to the light again. His hands were shaking as he found the waistband of his pants but it was going to be fine. Almost there. He could at least do this right. And maybe if he was clean, if he could look more presentable, Master would let him cook dinner. Either that or he was in for a hell of a punishment. But that was fine. All that mattered was that he could begin to recompense, he could earn his place here, and he could stay.

Aiden felt warmer already. Hands a little more sure, breath coming a little easier. He stepped away from the counter again. Master had laid out a towel on the floor beside the tub with a pair of footprints set into the terrycloth. It was silly. It made him smile as he pushed his pants down over his hips so they fell the rest of the way to the floor. He wanted to step out of the water onto the towel later, line his footprints up over the mini ones, just so.

He probably shouldn’t have stepped off the tile. Shouldn’t have moved into the middle of the room. Shouldn’t have trusted himself. Because, of course, he couldn’t do anything right. Of course he would lose his balance with the pants caught around his ankles. Of course he’d slip and fall on the stupid towel, unable to catch himself or even lessen the fall. His head smacked against the wall and he slid the rest of the way down. And then he didn’t feel anything anymore, least of all warm, despite being flat on the heated floor like a pancake.

The single ceiling light in Master’s bathroom was nothing like the dim, warm lights sprinkled through the open living space downstairs. This one was—

“Aiden, you good?”

No, he wasn’t. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t force his eyes away. It was like he was—like he was—

Knock. Knock—

He didn’t hear anything after that. His ears were ringing. And all he felt was numb. Limbs hollow, heavy, no longer his. Never were his.

Too bright, bright white. One of the doctors was leaning over him, his face all shadow, light centered behind his head. But there was never any salvation. Pinned down, numbed, Aiden couldn’t feel them but he knew the restraints were there, pinning him to the metal table. He couldn’t breathe. Don’t fight it. You can’t fight it. Pressure, scraping, sawing, grinding, digging. Too numb to feel pain but he could still feel. They wouldn’t let him breathe. Or the air was all too much, too strong, too heavy and it hurt.

It hurt. His chest. No, his rib ached. And he hung onto it. One rib at a time, climbing back. Ropes of clinging electric pain, scaling up the inside of his spine. Right to the dull throb anchored in the back of his head. His cheek stung, sharp and high, and the other side was—

“—you’re okay. It’s okay.” Leo’s thumb stroked his cheekbone.

And he was warm again.

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Aiden has a moodboard.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Just sending some love ❤️ I know that it might be a while before "Unintentional" gets updated so in the meantime I'll just keep rereading it, thank you so much for sharing it!

🥰🥰🥰

It’s in the works! Aiden is just very fragile and requires patience and gentle cajoling…