#noncon drugg

[tropesaregoodsoup]

Pleasant Dream

CW: Mention of noncon drugging

Whumpee was sitting somewhere they hadn’t been in a long time. A expansive green field with splotches of color from curated gardens and wildflowers alike. They knew without looking their cottage was behind, and inside was caretaker, something else they had spent too long away from. But caretaker would be out with them soon, sitting on the grass, taking in the sun, the brightness, the warmth-

A feeling of ice washed over everything, and Whumpee was transported to a dark room. With loud harsh words pelted in their ringing ears. 

“Where is Superhero hiding!” 

They felt awful, exhausted and as they tried to get their bearings they realized they were tied down to a chair. A punch sent their head spinning, knocking them out of their initial panic and sending memories flooding back in. 

“Come on,” a rough hand grabbed their face, forcing them to look at the henchmen. They were still reeling from the harsh wake up call and it was all they could do to mumble a small ‘let go’, before being shoved back down. “You know how this works, 30 minutes, tell us or we go again.” Their body responded first, breath got faster, tears formed at the edges of their eyes and their heart was pounding against their chest. Then their mind caught up, kidnapped, beaten within an inch of their life, and when that didn’t work, hallucinations. Some devilish concoction that started with a bad trip and ended with a euphoric dream-state. A leather syringe case had three inserts empty now. The combination of sleep deprivation, starvation, and dehydration were not helping, and only getting worse over the last two days. 

“I don’t- I can’t” Their words came out slurred and mumbled. They were too drained to even brace as another punch connected, this time it was a hit to the stomach, causing them to double forward in an attempt to catch their breath. “Please st-” They waited for the next barrage of hits when a door opened.

“Villain wants to see them.” The voice from the door was matter-of-fact, they heard footsteps enter the room and managed to push themself upright in the chair to see another broadbuilt henchmen. 

“No…” Their words faded as they pulled away, and even the small movement had their head spinning. This did nothing to deter the henchmen as he unstrapped Whumpee from the chair. He tried to prop Whumpee up so they could walk, but it was quickly apparent that wasn’t going to happen, so instead, the henchmen opted to toss Whumpee over his shoulder. The compound might as well have been a maze, the delirium blurring the twists and turns of hallways and doors together. 

They ended up plopped down on a hard floor. Maybe stone. They couldn’t fight it anymore, couldn’t get up and try to escape before the door closed. Couldn’t tell them where Superhero was, even if they knew. Couldn’t stop the soft nudges in their side that felt like blunt needles. The only thing they could do was cry. 

“Alright, let's get you cleaned up.” 

The voice was gentle, and it made Whumpee cry. After so long without any semblance of caring hands or nice words, they could have filled up a pool.

They didn’t make any attempt to stop Villain as he started cleaning their wounds with a warm rag, starting with their face and neck. They put up a small resistance when Villain reached for their shirt, but soft touches, comforting words, and a week of pain, won out. Villain didn’t seem fazed by the plethora of long healed scars under the cuts and bruises inflicted by his own people, he just cleaned the fresh wounds.

 “We’ll have to talk about these runes at some point.” 

It was the only remark Villain made, besides waking Whumpee up whenever they fell asleep. They were so tired after all, and the rag was nice and warm, and the bandages stopped the harsh air from hitting their open wounds, and…

“Whumpee. Wake up Whumpee.” 

They didn’t need any help staying away once he started to stitch close the gashes along their arms and legs and back and torso. They would have thrashed, they would have hit and yelled and scratched and fought. If only they could, but everything was piling on and they could barely manage a groan. Whumpee couldn’t help but notice, after the stitches were done, that Villain was kinder than they thought he would be. He wasn’t particularly gentle when cleaning the wounds, but he was careful, better than the people that had ‘helped’ them in the past. It was surprising really, to think that the hands that had turned villages to ash in mere seconds were stitching wounds and applying bandages with such precision. He even gave them water and Whumpee drank greedily, only stopping when the bottle was empty. They were still in agonizing pain, but this was better than anything they’d had in the week they’d been here. Villain just stared at them and Whumpee felt their pulse leap as the question left his lips.

“So… Where is Superhero?”

They tried to drag their body away, easier now that their wounds had been treated and they had some water, but Villain had placed them in a corner of the room, there was nowhere to go. Fear took over as they started stuttering and fumbling over their words, giving more excuses, attempts at explanations.

“I- I can’t- I” A groan cut off their words. Their breaths were ragged, each one causing more pain, they could tell they weren’t ripping open any of the stitches at least, the blood would be visible past the bandages since they still hadn’t gotten their shirt back. “Please, d-don’t hurt me. I can’t- I’m sorry. Please. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” Whumpee was reduced to sobbing through jumbled words again, but Villain didn’t change their questioning expression.

“Can’t? Not won’t?” Villain reached out only to have Whumpee flinch away with more pleas. “That is an interesting distinction. Now come here, I’m not going to hurt you.” His words were sincere, although less gentle than when Whumpee was dropped on his floor. He reached out again, ignoring the flinch this time, and Whumpee was turned to face the wall as Villain inspected the intricate rune splayed across their back.

“I did say you and I were going to talk about these. Talk.” 

Whumpee was just relieved to hear a different question, even if it was still impossible to answer, even if it was through stuttered, slurred words.

“I c-can’t.” They tried not to think about the long and painful process of so many runes shoved into such a small space. Just one of the many marks across their body to remind them of their time with the Hero and her posse. 

“You can’t talk about the runes?”

Whumpee just shook their head, even after the care Villain had given them, talking was still an effort. 

“These runes stop you from talking about Superhero too then?”

A nod.

“And these scars?” Whumpee shuddered as Villain dragged a hand over the largest one, a jagged scar that dragged diagonally across their back from waist to shoulder. There was a pause before Whumpee could answer.

“They um… They w-wanted to make sure I-I told them everything.” More memories jamming their way to the forefront of Whumpee’s tired mind. Some heroes they were. 

“Mmm…” Villain contemplated. “If I removed this rune, you would be able to tell me where Superhero is.” Whumpee was filled with an odd mix of dread and hopefulness, it wasn't a question, but Whumpee still responded.

“Yes.” It was broken and whispy, but it seemed to be the right answer.

“Okay then.” Villain got up, pulling Whumpee with him. They just slumped against Villain, still unable to stand, and darkness hiding the edges of their vision. “I need a clear view of the rune for this to work, so you will need to sit over there.” Villain pointed to what looked like a crossover of a bench and an easel. “But first I need to know what the rune does. Think you can manage that?” But Whumpee could barely manage nodding. The emotions were washing over them in confusing waves, and their vision went completely dark before gravity shifted and exhaustion finally took them.

Pt.2