#verse: captive

[lilacevans]

𝑜ℎ, 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦, 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒… 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑.

— pete’s place🤎

[captaindamianos]

People should start putting Laurent's little magic tricks into fanfic more, especially modern AUs. Just casually pulling a coin from behind Damen's ear in bed. He can and should be a bit cringefail at it but this should be more of a thing™

[truths33k3r4]

CHAPTER 28 - An Un-Sound Mind

Murky black morphed into overwhelming, piercing white as Don’s vision steadily began to return. The growing ache in his shoulders were revealed to be two sets of large, gloved hands dragging him through the first dimly-lit corridor. His ears were echoing with a screeching hum as he once again was pulled back to consciousness. He tried to blink away as much of the sleep crusties in his eyes as he could, despite it making little difference given he still couldn’t SEE. That makes planning one’s escape and taking notes of surroundings just a bit more difficult. 

I bet Raph’s got the seeing thing covered.. Knowing that flame-head he probably fought off the sedative far quicker than I did.. 

Don got a little worried by how much concentration he needed just to turn his head. His mind still lagged, and his body still felt unreasonably heavy and uncomfortable to move.

Ughh.

Don slowly turned his head to face the guard on his left. The only human traits of his captor were their two legs, two feet, and their head. Anything else regarding the features of their hair or the color of their eyes was concealed behind their reflective helmets. Instead of looking into the face of another person- another soul, the only eyes that met his were his own mirrored in the reflection of the man’s helmet. 

While Don stared at the faceless soldier, his eyes quickly fell on to the design of their gear and armor. Thanks to the guard’s close proximity to himself, his infuriatingly blurry vision only partially distorted their image, making it easier for him to study the fine work of the man’s armor. Its sleek design and firm material moved with ease as the man walked. All the seams stayed pressed and tidy. Not a button was loose. It was excellent craftsmanship.

Of COURSE it is- look at the size of this place.. Pretty sure whoever’s in charge can afford giving his guards quality gear.. I should probably make some alterations to ours when I get back.. Maybe I would have enough saved up by then to be able to-

His words echoed painfully back to him like a slap to the face.

‘ ..when I get back.. ‘

This is not some vacation or a WEEKEND GETAWAY. 

He and Raph are prisoners.

.. And the chances of them returning to their home are slim at best. That isn’t fear. That’s fact.

Nevermind that- Focus. Raph is most likely awake now, if he hasn’t already been for the past few minutes.. I don’t hear any struggling, but if he got hit with the same stuff I did, then his body must feel heavy too.. I can hear footsteps behind me. Most likely Raph is being carried by two more guards..

And then a new problem arrived at the door of Don’s brain: 

HOW THE SHELL AM I GONNA COMMUNICATE WITH HIM? I can’t speak. I can’t reach him.. How-

Almost immediately a childhood habit reemerged from the forgotten corner of his matured mind.

Don inwardly groaned to himself.

That’s self-demeaning.. But it just might work.

As quietly as he could manage- cause he still had some dignity - Don sounded the tiniest of chirps; a sound he had not made in more than ten years.

Before he was taught how to speak, this is how the brothers would communicate to each other. Raph, Leo, Mikey and himself would sound an assortment of clicks and chirps, each in different orders to translate to specific messages. 

Click- chirp - click ~ “ Are you ok? “

Chirp ~ “ Hey “

Chirp - click  ~ “ Yes “

Click - click ~ “ No “

And so on.

The refreshing nostalgia that washed over Don with the memories of his childhood was quite welcomed in the situation he had found himself in. But with the joyous feelings of memories long past, comes the sadness of the fact that those times are, indeed, OVER. In fact, he was so lost in the past that he failed to pay attention to what was occurring in the present. Like if Raph even heard or answered his call..

Deafeningly silent minutes passed as Don’s anxiety only grew. The jingles of his chains no longer swayed, but shivered. He could feel the same painful ache in his chest infect his heart as it had throughout his teen years.

Now’s not a good time for a panic attack, calm down.

In spite of his clear refusal, Don’s body continued to betray him. Theories in his mind began to transform into worries; What ifs. 

What if Raph’s not here?

What if they took him away to some other lab?

What if he’s in another city entirely??

What if he’s being tortured as I just sit here being blind and USELESS?!!

NO. STOP IT. FACTS, DON. You don’t know where he is. BUT there’s a possibility that he’s literally right behind you, just unconscious. And if he’s asleep, then of course he wouldn’t answer your call. 

The jingles of keys snapped Don back to the situation at hand. He raised his head just as he and his captors reached what appeared to be the final door at the end of this eternal hallway. Thankfully, moving his body was slowly becoming an easier feat.

Guess the sedative is finally wearing off.

As one of the guards fumbled with the set of keys, Don took the opportunity to take one last look around. 

Why the shell did he use the word ‘ last ‘ ??

What if it was.

Ochitsuke, Don. THAT’S ENOUGH.

To Don’s right, a pane of see-through glass stretched across an entire wall, revealing the inside of another room. He tried to peer through, but his blurry vision once again became a hindrance. He had to squint and grimace to even begin forming the floating blobs into a recognizable image.

Something.. was kept upright. But the angle of the something made him think it was being held up. He could see that the something was mostly consisting of a pale green color as well. His confusion only grew when he noticed what appeared to be a large growth coming out of the something’s back. It was rounded, and covered the length of its body perfectly- 

And then it hit him.

That something was a turtle. A turtle LIKE HIM. And the only other turtle like him in this nightmare lab was Raph. And if that’s RAPH, then what the heck happened to his skin?!?!?? The shade of it was all wrong. It was misty and faded- not vibrant and healthy like his own.

He wanted to cry out. To scream to his brother. To make sure he was ok. To make sure that he was ALIVE. 

He could try to run. Attempt to save him and his brother from this nightmare. Or just try to get a closer look to see if there was even a brother to save anymore.

The decision was made for him as he was pushed through the now open doorway in front of him. He yanked and tugged and fought, but the grips on his shoulders stayed firm. Even so, he continued to try to elbow and kick at his captors, aiming always for the areas he knew would cause the most pain. His actions were harshly cut short with a single blow to the side of his face. His ears rang so loud it gave him a headache, pulsing and pressing deep into his mind. The nausea that came with the disorienting hit made his whole head go limp, hanging lifelessly as he tried to keep down his dinner. His cheek began to swell, burning with a reddish- purple bruise, and the fresh tears falling from his eyes stung as they trickled down his face.

Raph.. I’m sorry.

As he watched the door close behind him, he kept his eyes on his brother’s faded form till the last second. Then he was pulled to the floor and tied down by the cuffs and chains restricting his wrists. They locked into place in a slot on the ground, pulling him down to his knees. The room smelled dank and the cold, dirty ground dug into Don’s shins. His wrists ached from the abnormal pressure and weight.

But despite all the pain flowing freely through his body..

.. all he wanted was his brother back.

Without knowing if Raph was ok, Don’s mind could only guess. Estimate. Hope.

The room’s aura deepened into a chasm of fear and anxiousness as all he could do was think. His fear constricted him worse than any of his chained cuffs could. His anxiety weighed him down far below the floor he was already kneeling on. His doubt yanked and tugged at his thoughts relentlessly until they went to places he didn’t want to go. 

The thing about having a strong mind is.. It can turn on you. Like the monster from Frankenstein, the thoughts you give life to will eventually have a will of their own. And if you’re not strong enough..

.. it will consume you. It will control you, beginning with your thoughts, and ending with taking full control of your body. 

Sensei had noticed the power of Don’s mind when he was a kid. But not just on the technological side. He noticed Don would overthink things. Become super anxious if he were left to his thoughts. When one of the brothers got sick, Don would hide in his closet praying like a warrior. Not for his brother’s health, but for his own. He would stay up all night, not looking for remedies for his ill sibling, but instead searching for ways that he could make his body an impenetrable fortress against the germs. And when he became a teenager, things didn’t get much better. If anything they got worse.. He just got better at hiding it. 

Eventually, Sensei pulled him aside and told him about the dangers of his mind. How easy it is to become a slave to your thoughts. An empty shell, always worrying, always afraid. How if he didn’t learn to hold truth in his heart, then the lies his mind would create would roam freely, taking full control.

Don didn’t understand all those years ago.

Now he’s beginning to. Here, in this dark cell, held down not by his chains, but by the overpowering grip of his mind.

Sensei’s words echoed in his heart.

‘ Remember this, my son. When worry begins to pull things apart, never forget to speak truth in your heart. 2 Timothy 1:7, “ For God has not given you a spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and of a sound mind. “ ‘

A sound mind.

A.. sound.. Mind..

Sound - which means reliable or Sensible. Well, it seems my brain is quite reliable when it comes to solving diverse equations AND creating worries.

Ok. Let’s try this mind that is sound thing. 

Don did his best to get into a less- uncomfortable position on the ground as he took a long breath.

Or as long as he could make it, that is. Which was like two seconds, but it was close enough.

Breathe..

He closed his eyes and harnessed all his focus into keeping his thoughts at bay. 

Lord. I am scared. I know You already know that, but I will still communicate it.. I am scared and I don’t know what’s happening to Raph- but I know YOU do- You know all- You’re omniscient, which means that You know all, but ANYWAYS. I um.. I know You have Raph in Your hands right now. I know You’re with him. Please, God.. Please keep my brother safe. I don’t even know where we are- but AGAIN- I know You DO, so I really shouldn’t worry- but I am- cause my brain is being stupid right now- but uhhh please- please Lord- help us to make it back home. Alive preferably.. That’s not sarcasm! Just being honest- I’d really prefer to not die today- You’ve seen my list- there’s still so much that needs to be done in the lair- And I’ve already lost so much time being here- AGhhhhh I’m so bad at this. Which You.. already know.. Cause You made me this way.. And I know You still love me- despite my blatant faults and failing to do the simplest of chores… Aaand there I go again.. I’m sorry- my brain just won’t stop- yes, that is my request- Please, Lord, help me to have a sound mind. Help me not to have a spirit of fear. Uh.. A- amen.

Don let out a frustrated groan as he rubbed at his temples. He flinched at the tenderness of his bruised cheek as his hand skimmed over the fresh bruise.

“..D - don? “

 A familiar voice strained from the far corner of the cell, making Don flinch something awful to the sudden noise in the silent room.

Don twisted his head as far as it could turn towards the dark corner where the voice emanated from.

 Even with blurred vision, Don knew it was his twin.

“ RAPH!!!!! “

That's it for this chapter. :) Not sure if you can tell- ( I truly hope you do since its spread out all throughout this chapter ) but Don deals with anxiety. The kind that pulls you to silent, dark places. The kind that doesn't ever let go of your brain and thoughts.

In my Biblical Study of Anxiety, I am learning how imperative it is to speak truth in your heart. " Don't fill your heart with what if's, but instead truth. " And I wanted to explore this with poor Don here. XD Worry and fear have been a huge part of my life- just as much if not more than my faith. But slowly, I'm learning to let go of the lies I tell myself. I'm learning to give all my fears and worries to God. And it's hard. It's very hard to let go of control. But the peace I have found in Him- It is indescribable. And I pray that this chapter will touch hearts- and help them to see there is a way out of your anxiety. There is hope to quiet your noisy soul and mind. :) And giving it all to God is a good first step. :)

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[gallowsheart]

❝ did you just ‘’oh, damn‘’ yourself? ❞

@alwaysxinxtrouble

To be honest, Jesse didn't always pay attention to the shit that came out of his mouth. He'd been talking to himself for years before anyone but his brothers were there to actually listen. He kind of had to, since there wasn't anyone else around for miles. He'd been working in the butcher shop with Jed since he was old enough to help out, and he worked the counter more often than not so he could chat with the customers-- an aspect of the job that Jed tolerated a little and Abram not at all, making Jesse the best man for the job. These days, though, the three of them were taking it in turns to stay on the ranch and keep an eye on Robin. None of them trusted the twins alone with her.

He kept up a running commentary while they worked together on the old tractor in the shed. The thing hadn't worked for years, and while Jed might have been able to get it running, he didn't have the time. Robin was good at that sort of thing, and she'd been able to get farther with it than Jesse could have on his own. Oh, damn! might have slipped out when he'd finally managed to piece a particularly difficult part back together, but he had to pause a moment and think back over the last few things he'd said, finally chuckling when he realized she was right.

"Why, yes ma'am, I did. Good to give yourself a little credit now and then." Who else was going to do it? Jed wasn't a big one for compliments, Abram barely spoke, and the twins were, well-- them. He straightened and stretched, his back aching from being contorted over the machine for so long. Frankly, she could have clocked him with one of the heavy wrenches and tried to run at any time that day. None of them bothered to bind her wrists or ankles anymore, not even Jed.

[sweetfirebird]

This book has ~everything~

traditional Stefon book pimping post

D/s as a metaphor for kingship or whatever

destiny

an Easter egg of the standard R. Cooper variety

shitty parents getting what they deserve

quietly obsessed with each other MCs

a fun loss of virginity ritual

porridge! so much fucking porridge!

heraldry

robin hood meets lion in winter vibes

field surgery

there was only one bed (not really)

embroidery!

A Suitable Captive - December 26th

[bellecourageuse]

Wish!Belle who was rescued by the Charmings when they defeated the Evil Queen and who set out to find Rumplestiltskin, unaware that he has been in the Charmings' captivity all this time.

Wish!Belle who is a leather-clad adventuress who helped many people along the way but never forgot about her goal, never gave up hope that she would find Rumple, even though it's been years and all the stories she hears about him, little traces of his presence, they all date back to before she was rescued by the Charmings.

Wish!Belle who eventually finds Wish!Rumple and is horrified by the idea that the Charmings and dwarfs and the Blue Fairy (she did hear some bad things about the Fairy, though, on her adventures, so this is not as surprising, not to mention there was no love lost between her and Rumple back when Belle was his maid), the people who are meant to be good and all, would not only lock someone up like that and just... leave them there to rot away in solitude but also lie to her about not knowing where he was (so they didn't forget about him, they left him there on purpose).

Wish!Belle who develops a relationship with Wish!Rumple while still being an adventuress and never ceasing to amaze Wish!Rumple with her sharp mind, kind soul and the ability to save a village, reunite True Love and make delightful pies for tea time and all of that by 5 o'clock

OR

Wish!Belle who finds Wish!Rumple at any point between him being released by Regina and his would-be death and quickly makes him forget all his villainous plans (because really his whole plan to make everyone alone and unhappy forever was about his own loneliness and unhappiness)

Just...

Wish!Belle and all the opportunities the writers missed.

[diverse-hearts-ocs]

@whimsiegoth asked:

"you're pathetic." // Prudence and Garth (maybe she's mad at him for some reason?)

CONFLICT

Nothing was ever going to get through to her, was it? With a sigh, he sat back on the edge of the bed, curling his fingers into the blankets as he tried to force himself to calm back down again. Yeah, he was pathetic - he knew that, he'd been told that his entire life, but to hear it from Prudence was a rather harsh blow to accept. "...if I'm that pathetic, then why you so determined to keep me here?", he frowned a little, slowly raising his head to watch the woman that stood in front of the only darn exit of this dumb room, "You know none of this was ever needed. She knew I'd always come back, no matter the arguments we sometimes got into...yet your keeping me locked up like some pet".

[soulfulempathy]

@huyaoxiaozi

"Yuki?"

At the sound of his name, Yuki turned. An older man stood a block away, a man that seemed...vaguely familiar. His name was on the tip of Yuki's tongue, but he mentally flinched away from the sharp spike of pain in his temple. Like barbed wire on a fence, protecting whatever was inside...or protecting whatever was out.

"My god...you're alive," the man continued, taking a few steps closer. However, when Yuki drew back like a stray animal to an outstretched hand, the man stopped. He looked Yuki over with sad eyes that made Yuki grind his teeth.

"Who are you?" Yuki demanded.

"What happened to you?" the man countered, shaking his head slowly. "You look just like your father."

This stopped Yuki short. Like his father? Isen? No...someone else, someone whose face was blurry, distorted. Yuki's hands clenched at his sides.

"I don't know you," he said coldly.

"What did he do to you, son?"

Yuki's heart thumped loudly against his chest and he took another step back. The longer he looked at the man, the more something prodded at his mind, something that plagued his dreams often. Headlights, tires screeching, screams. Yuki shut his eyes hard.

"Come with me," the man begged. "There's something you should see."

Curse his curiosity, but Yuki had to know. And what he found changed everything.

He'd stumbled out of the police station, gasping for air, and when the detective put his hand on his shoulder, he broke out into a run. He ran until he couldn't anymore, finally stopping in an alley with his hand on the brick. And when he pressed his forehead to it, he realized he wasn't alone.

Maybe if he'd been on his game, he would've escaped. He would've killed them all. Still, though Yuki did damage to the men, he was knocked unconscious. And the next thing he knew, his arms were bound to a pole pressing against his back, his ankles tied together with rope. Not a soul was in the room.

He wasn't sure how much time passed. His mouth and throat ached with thirst. Pangs of hunger stabbed into his stomach for awhile, until they turned into clenching pain, nausea. It didn't matter. Most of the time, Yuki wasn't in his body. He was floating on the ceiling, watching a car crash over and over, seeing dark eyes he knew so well, being ushered to a black car. He remembered a warehouse much like this one, damp and dark, where his father -- where Isen had pushed him to his limits until he was a sobbing heap on the ground. Until his memories disappeared, until he became the perfect, obedient weapon. Until he was broken.

The door creaked open and a taller Chinese man entered. Yuki gave him a skeptical look and resisted the urge to back away as much as he could. For the first time, Yuki spoke, his voice rough as sandpaper.

"Your hospitality is terrible."

[bizarrebazaar13]

elementary rewatch time, so here’s some Jamie Moriarty quotes I thought the fl gang might appreciate:

“But the truth is, I see everything you do. I feel it. Makes the world quite dull, no? Looking at a man, and knowing all his secrets.” “So you’re saying we’re the same?” “I’m saying I’m better.”

“I have reserves of creativity I haven’t even begun to tap. For your own good, let me win.”

“You look at people and you see puzzles. I see games. You? You’re a game I’ll win every time.”

“I would never kill you. Not in a million years. You may not be as unique as you thought, darling, but you’re still a work of art. I appreciate art.”

and of course the ever-classic “As if men had a monopoly on murder.”

[kingofthewebxxx]

Open Starter:

“Now tell me, do you perceive me as a meta human or mutant. Take your time, it’s not like either of us are exactly going anywhere.” He said as he sat surrounded by his guards, watching the intruder in the makeshift cell carefully as he took a small sip of his black coffee.

[jerrsterrr]

Listing fave Reader Designs

thru magma doodles!!

Solar Lunacy by @/bamsara

transcript:

(sun and moon just happy to take care of reader)

"sun, i know we are friends but we aRE ALSO COWORKERS AND THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING OHH MY GODDBHHB"

2. Sleuth Jesters by @/naffeclipse and @/starlightcloudbaby

3. Raised in Captivity by @blonde-fraumell

4. Our Orbit is Elliptical by @/sycopomp and @/madame-mongoose

[orxna]

Reasons To Cup a Face || Accepting || @avrorean sent;

[CHECK]: after an unexpectedly violent situation, sender frantically rushes to check if the receiver is okay, cupping their face to look closer.

Sulhan’harel is nearly covered in blood. None of it is her own, she knows as she examines her dress with dull eyes. Even her face was not spared, for while she wore a mask over her mouth and nose she can feel the itching gummy feeling upon her forehead. The tacky feel of what must be staining her pale hair and eyebrows a livid crimson. The irrational little voice in her mind almost wonders if it will stain and even if she doesn’t die here and Hawke saves her when she leaves this retching place everyone will know what she has done here—

Sulhan’harel smiles softly at the woman who gently ferries her back to her cage—Room. She thinks the only place unmarred must have been her back, but now she feels the lingering gore upon the Lady of Halla soaking into the fabric of her back. Her smile twitches—

There is flesh trapped beneath her nails, she thinks from the lining of a stomach—not the inner bit full of acid that she fears will be the cause of some skin abrasion that will leave her corrupted in body as much as mind—where fat met flesh. The Lady had asked her to reach within, for the young elf’s hands were smaller than her elder’s. Easier to grab hold of little strings of muscle and sinew, delicately snipping them out like old seams on a dress that needed to be let out.

These people were not darkspawn, at least not yet. She doesn’t know if that is worse than when they are fully blighted. She decides it is less frightening, when she can pretend the exposure is somehow lesser and that she will not eventually end up on this table herself—that when she looks down at her monstrous hand she remembers when she was—

Tainted, these poor souls, but not misshapen—they are now, she thinks with less revulsion than she had the first time she was ‘asked’ to assist her Lady Aunt in surgery. That is a bad word for it, an inadequate word but if Orana thinks too hard on how to describe it she sees Danarius in her minds eye and she cannot. She cannot think of him here, in this place or she will crack—

She feels fingers upon her cheeks. Her mind skitters sideways, out of the spiral it had been careening through. Like a moth with one injured wing fluttering down to the ground in circles, a gentle hand cups one cheek as the other threads into her hair. There is a light pressure, but not a hurting one, just enough of a tug that her mind stops twirling. She realizes suddenly that Ghilan’nain is gone, not even her maniacal tittering lingering in her wake. They are well and truly alone again, and for the first time in hours Orana breathes.

“Oh, hello Nanna,” Orana says what feels like mere moments later but realizes she must have taken too long to speak as rage blossoms in her sister’s eyes like red spider lillies fresh in season, “No, no, no, I’m quite alright, it isn’t mine!”

Her cheeks hurt from smiling, from creasing her eyes so those too look content and not deadened, “I’m alright, please.”

[worthyheir]

some Jace & Viserys captured and taken to Lys verse info:

When the battle ceases, and the enemy has them in her grasp, there is a question. What to do with these Princes, one the heir of the Queen who is fighting for the throne, the other her youngest son? The eldest, Jacaerys, is injured, having been injured before capture and then further so when brought aboard a ship a fighting back. Only the threat of his brother, who was brought before him, still a boy of seven, causes him to relent, drop his sword, allow himself to be captured. His injuries are treated, though superficially. It is only luck that he did not succumb to death by infection, because that means he is able to take care of his brother. He is still in pain, finds it difficult to move his left arm, thankful he has always favored his right in battle, at least. They are not separated at first. They are both sold to the same magister, who pays a signficant amount, their weight in gold (it is fortunate, for Jacaerys, that he has lost so mcuh in both this travel, sick and injured, and in the war effort in general under stress) that he is able to be afforded, and not separated from his youngest brother, who clings to him readily. They are treated as honored hostages - trapped, but fed, and treated moderately well, so long as they are agreeable. Jace will do anything to ensure his brother survives and is not injured. When the magister dies, and they are taken by Rogare family once more, there is several debates about what to do. The war in Westeros seems to have ended, though their new captors are secretive about who is victorious. Only the news that the two princes might be ransomed off is mentioned, but not before an idea is had. Why would Lysandro Rogare, now in possession of both the Prince of Dragonstone, and the Queen of Westeros' youngest son as well, not capitalize on that? It is know, thus far, that in these 3 years, that Jacaerys is amenable to most things, so long as his brother is unharmed and remains at his side. Terms that are easily agreeable enough, should they receive a payout in the end for them. And better for all is if his daughter marries this prince, who is a year her senior, rather than the one almost a decade her junior. And while Jace would love to refuse, given his own previous betrothal, all involved know it takes only the slightest threat towards his ten year old brother to make him see both sense and duty. He marries Larra, if it i forced upon him. The rest is up to timeline, of war's end, who wins, etc.

[unbeleveable-aa]

@worthyheir sent: "I'm fine... I'm fine..." / for rhaenys

"Nonsense!" Rhaenys protested, her scarred face pressed against the bars that separated them. The black cells may have been named such for a reason, but she had caught a good look at Jace when the guards had thrown him into the cell next to hers thanks to the torches they carried. "They should have done more for you."

Not that the Green maesters had done anything but patch her up superficially when she had been captured weeks before. But she was insignificant compared to Jacaerys, Rhaenyra's heir, and if they wanted to keep him alive, one would think it would be in better condition.

[gallowsheart]

@alwaysxinxtrouble

Jesse had no idea how long the woman had been in the camouflaged pit. He didn’t have time to check the twins' traps every day and knew they weren't exactly diligent about it either, despite repeated reminders that rotten meat that had been dead for days was no good to anyone. He guessed it was anywhere from a day or two to only a few hours. He’d had to bind her wrists and ankles and gag her to haul her out, but he’d removed the gag once they reached the slaughterhouse.

Nobody was going to hear her from in there, and he liked having someone to talk to while he worked, even if the conversations could be sort of one-sided. She didn't seem reassured by his promises that he would kill her so quickly she wouldn't even feel it, or that it was lucky he'd found her before the twins did. They liked to play with their food, no matter how many times Abram raged at them that fear and pain affected the flavor. Conversations could be sort of one-sided with them too. Their listening skills were highly selective.

Blood dripped from the edge of a sharp knife while he carved up meat at the counter. He wasn't trying to scare her more, but it was possible he didn't realize what a frightening scene that was. He was waiting for one of his brothers to get home to help with her. Contrary to popular horror movie myth, it was difficult to single-handedly butcher and preserve the meat from anything larger than a pig. Not impossible, but they didn't like to waste anything. The whole process would be smoother with another set of hands. Though Jesse had a tendency to run his mouth, that was not a detail he'd shared with his captive.

He didn’t look up from what he was doing at the sound of the sliding door, assuming it was one of the twins come to check on their haul, until Jed's voice snapped through the space. He had that oldest brother talent of commanding instant attention and making him feel vaguely guilty, even when he hadn't done anything wrong. Or maybe it was just that he was already shouting.

"What the hell are you doing? Jesse, what the fuck."

Jed was staring at Robin, bound on the floor, filthy and crying and looking like she'd just been pulled out of a pit, which, he realized with a sinking feeling, was probably exactly what had happened. He knew the twins had traps set up all over the property, and none of the locals ever made noise about the occasional missing hiker. But this was bad. This was bad. Robin wasn't just some random hiker. Locals were off limits. They never killed people they knew, and he’d already been seen in town with her on multiple dates. They couldn't just kill her, as Jesse had clearly been planning to do.

But they couldn't just let her go either. It was plain at a glance that she'd already seen and heard too much. Jesse never did know how to shut his goddamn mouth.

"Fuck!" He was still yelling, his younger brother's voice competing with his.

"What are you talking about? She was in the trap!"

"That's Robin! That's the girl I'm going out with! Goddamnit, Jesse!" He shoved him hard, heedless of the knife in his hand. It was no threat to him. The Ashworth brothers might infight from time to time, but they always stopped short of actually hurting each other.

"Well what the fuck, Jed! How was I supposed to know?"

Jed ignored him, moving almost on autopilot to Robin. He knelt by her, reaching to loosen the restraints on her wrists. He didn’t like seeing her like that, helpless and terrified. It was still relatively new between them, but he’d liked her. More than he’d liked anyone in a long time. And they would probably have to kill her now. Robin would die for nothing, and her disappearance would bring unwanted attention to the family. Shit.

[sweetfirebird]

Fen made himself be still. “You often look at me that way. I don’t know what it means, but it makes me warm and anxious at once.”

Lan inclined his head again, responding to what Fen hadn’t quite asked. “It means I don’t know what to do with you, but that I’m also thinking of what I would like to do with you.”

The second part was how The Geon had always looked at Fen. It had never made Fen warm.

Fen swallowed. “Which is to tup me?”

“Among other things,” Lan admitted, then made a noise, perhaps at Fen’s thoughts showing on his face. “You’re beautiful. You know that.”

Fen shrugged but it was an absent gesture. “Many say so. But not you, not often.” And not as if it made him warm too.

“You want me to say it more?” Lan was incredulous, then amused, with nearly no space between. “What else will you demand, flower?”

Fen had not once lost his breath in his father’s court, even in moments when he’d had to flinch and brace himself. His chest was tight now, his heart a drum. He wet his lips. “Not demand,” he said softly although not sweetly, “ask. The ways of the Bal… they keep rituals that have lasted through ages, and growing up, when I heard of them, I…. I always thought they seemed a wonderful thing. The Acana, of course, disapproved, and no doubt The Geon would have too.”

Lan moved his feet off the bed. “Tell me.”

Fen released the edges of the robe and shivered to send it to the ground.

A Suitable Captive - R. Cooper