Hi, I'm Tay. This is a blog for my original, very dark, fiction writing. Beware, minors DNI. My work here will ofter showcase dark themes that include kidnapping, torture and noncon elements.
Content Warnings: clearly marked in chapter tags. HEED THE TAGS.Â
This fic contains noncon in some chapters and elements of noncon or threatened noncon throughout.Â
ALL BROTHER'S KEEPER ENTRIES
This link includes the main story, future snippets, Merry Whump of May 2022 entires, and Whumptober 2022 entries.
Other Merry Whump of May Entries that are not Bother's Keeper Related (Be sure to heed all the tags for each entry):
May 1st: Don't Hold Your Breath
May 2nd: Beg to Differ
May 8th: Does That Hurt
May 9th: You Can Cry, It's Okay
May 13th: Wait Right Here
May 14th: You Donât Wanna Do That
May 16th: Youâre Scared, Arenât You
May 19th: I'm All You Need
May 20th: Donât Leave Me Here
May 22nd: Get in!
May 26th: I Don't Know What You Mean
May 28th: I'd Rather Not
May 30th: What Are You Doing?
Merry Whump of May 2023
Day 2: Need a Ride (King of the Road Prequel story)
Day 3: You Don't Look So Good
Day 4: Two Birds, One Bullet
Poster Child:
This story will contain elements of and sometimes explicit noncon. It takes place in the Box Boy Universe and features the WRU. @ashintheairlikesnow's Karen Renford will make occasional appearances and appears with the permission of her creator. Heed the content warning for each chapter. Features institutionalized slavery as a theme.
Connor's Introduction (Merry Whump of May: What are you Doing?)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
King of the Road
This story contains HEAVY amounts of explicit noncon. Be sure to heed all the warnings for each chapter. As always, Minors DNI.
Prequel
Introduction Piece
Chapter 1 N E W ! ! ! !
Entries for The Whumper's Soiree:
Three Days
Collaboration with @quietly-by-myself, featuring her whumpee, Faolan Dufort and my original whumper, Finlay Iver. Contains noncon. Heed the tags for each chapter warning.
A Goodnight Cocktail
A collaboration with @susiequaz12 for The Whumper's Soiree: Whumper Jasper selects Whumpee Dominic in order to help him realize that he should really be more careful with his choices. It's all for Dominic's own good and Jasper is a careful teacher.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
The Road to Hell:
Collaboration with @whumpcereal featuring her whumper, Ivan Peters and my whumper, Alexsei Volkov, and out co-created whumpee, Jesse Barrow. Features EXPLICIT noncon, especially in part 2.
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CW: Yandere whumper, aggressive whumper, carewhumper, kidnapped/captivity, beatings, torture (whipping, not shown only aftermath), implied/fade to black noncon, emotional and physical abuse, restraints, gags, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, talks of death, blood mention, adult language (I beg! Let me know if I have missed any!)
A part two! Kurtis has some strong words for Felix and Felix and Josh reconcile... I really be putting Josh through the wringer (I promise I love him. In my own special way <3 )
PART ONE HERE!
----
Josh was wasting away, in both broken body and beaten mind. He was a sorry sight; already three-quarters dead.Â
Beyond his bloodied mask of pain, Kurtis had seen a haunted face that bore the weight of untold suffering. A face aged beyond its years, so weathered by his torment, the once young lad now looked twenty years older for it. Crow's feet besieged his dull, sunken eyes and frown lines etched between his brows. Poor bastard. How much must he suffer in the name of Felixâs twisted âloveâ? How many more will suffer the same fate after himâŚ?
âDo you want him dead?â Kurtis lambasted, bursting through Felixâs bedroom door like a bull in a china shop. Felix jumped out of his damn skin. âHm? Go on. You after a lover or a corpse, mate? Or, I know, how about a zombie? Yeah? A mindless zombie? That what ya want? âCause thatâs what youâre gonna get-â
âOh, spare me the fucking dramatics, Kurt,â Felix spat, his scowl alone made Kurtisâ blood curdle. He couldnât ever imagine being in Joshâs shoes, so helpless and frail, on the receiving end of Felixâs wrath. âI wonât let you paint me the villain in all of this. Heâs no innocent.â
Oh, but he was. A complete and utter innocent. Josh wasnât deserving of this living hell. Kurtis had watched over the past few months how every word from Felixâs lips was a knife to Joshâs throat and every movement a paralysing threat. How tears would carve their way down his cheeks, like a raging river gouging stone, more times than a smile has ever crossed his lips. Whatever this was, it obviously wasnât love - though Kurtis would never dare voice that. He just desperately wished it didnât have to be this way.Â
âHe didnât deserve that, Felix,â Kurtis rubbed his temples hard, kneading the stress out. Trying to work the image of Josh's black and blue body out of his mind. âYou know he didnât.â
âI didnât deserve to be attacked!â Felix near screamed in his defence, the victim complex coming through in full-force.
âHe was scared! Heâs only human, he has his limits. Youâre overwhelming him.â
The boy needed a sliver of reprieve. A chance to exist, be and breathe. Even in his few and far between moments of isolation, pain was Joshâs constant companion. Relentless agony, around the clock. How could Josh ever come out of fight or flight? He wants and tries so desperately to be good, but his body rebels against him.
âItâs not my fault he doesnât know how to love or be loved. Iâm trying to break his walls down.â
âYouâre breaking him. Not his walls,â Kurtis declared. That seemed to stun Felix, his mind churning in thought. âYou need to take a good step back. When heâs acting out - sure. Fine. Lock him down in that basement and let him rot for a good while. But you need to take the time to compose yourself and not go back to him until youâve calmed the hell down. You went too far, Felix. Keep going that way and youâre going to lose him. Youâll kill him-â
Kurtisâ words hung heavy in the air. Felixâs jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing into a dangerous glint. Yet, beneath the surface, a flicker of doubt ignited. A seed of uncertainty began to take root and the sobering realisation crashed down on him.Â
Felix sank heavily onto his bed, shoulders slumping and face buried in his hands. âAll I want is to shower him with my love. I want to make him happy. Why is that so hard for his tiny mind to grasp?â Felix sighed dramatically. âHeâs never satisfied. I donât know what to do with him anymore.â
âGet down there and talk to him. Man to man, heart to heart. Use your words and not your fists, for once in your life.â
Felix hesitated, balling the bedspread in his clenched fist. He looked up, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. âHe started it. I just finished it.â
Kurtis rolled his eyes so far back he could see his brain. Felix always has to be the one to throw his toys out the pram and tantrum like a child.
âFor what itâs worth, the ladâs remorseful,â Kurtis added. âHe said he was sorry.â
âYeah?â Felixâs interest piqued, his ears pricked up, âHe said that?â
âHe did. And Iâm sure if you gave him the chance to talk, heâd tell you to your face. Go down there, and build the bridge back. Let this shitshow be water under it.â
------
Josh had often wondered what dying would feel like. It was never something he had to consider back when his life was his own, when it stretched out before him with promise and potential. But if he had to guess, he'd wager that dying feels something like this.Â
Itâs dark. They normally describe âa lightâ, don't they? When people reach their timely end. But Josh felt darkness closing in on him, shadows stealing him away. Maybe there was no light at the end of the tunnel for him. There was no heaven waiting for him, and there's no hell he could go to, which is worse than the one he was already living.Â
A cold, creeping numbness snuck through Joshâs limbs, replacing the crippling pain that thrummed through his entire being. He felt like he was being hollowed from the inside out. His breath, ragged and laboured, was slowing to a near standstill. The world faded into a blur as his still-good eye slipped shut, the struggle ebbing away.
Then, a sharp sound shattered the facade of tranquillity. The metallic click and clang of locks, the jingle jangle of keys echoed through the confined space. A surge of adrenaline shot through Josh. It was as if his barely beating heart had suddenly leaped to life.
Is it possible for the air to be stolen from your lungs, and feel a breath of fresh air at once? Elation in the face of impending doom? Terror and relief warred within Josh. Felix was here, whether Josh wanted him to be or not. Here to finish what they started? To right the wrongs? If Felix makes any apologies then Josh knows he definitely has died, because never in Felixâs life has he ever uttered the words âsorryâ.Â
For Josh, this may be his one chance to make amends, to face the music for his abhorrent actions. Nod and agree. Do whatever he can to keep Felix sweet and survive one day more. As Felixâs footsteps thud down the stairs, Josh weakly fumbled to quickly shove the spit-soaked gag that hung limp around his neck back into his mouth. If Felix saw him, not as he left him, it would ruin any chance of a sunny reunion.Â
Wordlessly, Felix perched by Joshâs side. His large hands peeled Josh from the cot, gently lifting his frail form. As he scooped him up into his arms, Josh winced and whimpered - his face screwing up tight in anguish. The raw wounds on his back burned in protest to the sudden movement. Josh couldn't meet his captorâs eyes, although he knew he probably should. He should stare the devil in the eyes and hold his ownâŚbut heâs too scared of what he might see inside.Â
Yet, with a gentle but firm grip, Felix tilted his chin to face him. Joshâs vision blurred as the tears welled up, threatening to spill over.
âHey there, pretty blue eyes,â Felix cooed.Â
That was all it took for Josh to fall apart. His spirit so broken, he involuntarily collapsed into Felixâs open arms. His body convulsing, sobs muffled through the gag. Josh would surrender to this life if it could be like this all the time, gentle and tender, even if it was all a sick fantasy.Â
âLook what youâve done to us, sweetheart. Youâre tearing us apart. I canât stand it. I hate fighting with you.â
Josh hated it too. Neither of them wanted this. If only Josh could take it all back and go back to moments before he lost control⌠he would shut up and put up and just let it fucking happen. Nothing could stop it happening, it only served to delay the inevitable.Â
âYou know that all Iâve ever wanted to do is love you senseless,â Felix whispered. He ran a hand through Joshâs hair, hushing his cries as he shivered and sniffled.Â
âShh. Settle now,â Felix cupped Joshâs cheek, thumbing away rolling tears, âI donât want you to cry, baby. I want you to beg for my forgiveness. I know you have something youâd like to say to me. Something that might help heal the wound.â
With a sigh, Felix reached up and tugged the gag free. Josh gasped, his breath ragged and the words came tumbling out, âI - mâ s-sorryâŚplease b-believe me - Iâm so - so s..sorry- Iâll - b-behave-â
âI donât know what hurt me more; the scratches down my cheek, or when I watched the boy I love become consumed by hatred.â
âI-I donât kn-know what came over me,â Josh rasped, âI - I think I was over t-tired-â
-and starving. And scared out of his wits. And hurt beyond imagination. âsâ no excuse,â he hiccuped, âI - I didnât m-mean to hurt you, I swear on my life-â
Josh couldnât help but think that he canât bet something he doesnât have. Joshâs life is not his own to swear onâŚFelix had already taken it.
âI couldnât recognise you, baby. That nasty, spoilt brat that attacked me? Thatâs not my beautiful angel that I fell head over heels for. This is. So sweet and gentle, wanting and docile.â
Joshâs heart was beating out of his ribcage. Disgust and humiliation flooded in. How could he let himself sink so low, to be everything Felix wanted him to be? When did he let it happen? He was merely a shadow of himself, and Felix would even rip his shadow from him if he could.
âI want to forgive you,â Felix hummed, âMy heart wants to find a way for us to move past this mess youâve created - together. I need you to show me how sorry you are.â
âW-What can I do?â Josh questioned, determined. âTo make this all better? Tell m-me - Iâll move mountains toâŚto make it right again.â
âI want to pick up where we left off. Exactly where we left offâŚâ Felix purred. His hand slips between Joshâs leg and caresses his thigh, before guiding his legs apart. âNo whining. No wriggling. No fighting back. A relationship is give and takeâŚI give and you takeâŚlike a good boy.â
Josh felt his face flush. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard.
âI-I canât - my - Felix, my back- â
âYou can lay on your tummy, if you want, sweetieâŚâ Felixâs lips curled into a harrowing smile. Josh told himself heâd lie back and accept it, but the panic still festered and bubbled at the thought. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
âOrâŚyour knees are perfectly fine, and so are those pretty lips,â Felix purred, stroking his thumb along Joshâs cracked and split lips. âItâs all up to you, gorgeous. Iâll let you choose how you want to say sorry to me.â
Choose, he thought bitterly. Every decision, every action, was dictated by Felix's whims. Thereâs no true choice in this. Itâs going to hurt, no matter what, and he canât do anything to stop it. At least he can alleviate it.
âH-Help me onto my knees?â Josh asked meekly, in defeat.
Felix hummed his approval. His grip tightened around Josh's wrist, pulling him forward from the bed. With a strained grunt, Josh stumbled and fell to his knees. The whip marks, raw and inflamed, throbbed with every panicked breath. He gritted his teeth, trying to stifle the cry of pain that threatened to escape his lips.
Well damn. Bastard man is bastard. lol. No surprise there. Poor Joshy. I want to snuggle him. I want to wrap him in soft warm blankets and feed him all his favorites. lol. Not what Felix is giving him. Bleh. Hahahahahahaha. God I love this story so much. đŤśđť
CW: Yandere whumper, aggressive whumper, carewhumper, kidnapped/captivity, beatings, torture (whipping, not shown only aftermath), implied noncon, emotional and physical abuse, restraints, gags, whump/torture aftercare, wound cleaning, blood mention, adult language (I beg! Let me know if I have missed any!)
PART TWO HERE!
----
God forbid, what the poor lad looks like now.
Kurtis paled at the thought of what may have become of Josh. When he first met him, back when he was first taken, there was fire beneath the fear. A determination that defied his pain. But now, Kurtis debated what could be waiting for him on the other side of the door. Whether the boy would be skin and bonesâŚor ashes and dust. It wasnât an impossibility, was it? Given Felixâs less than shiny track record.
With a four-pack of beer dangling from one hand and a stack of frozen pizza boxes precariously balanced and teetering on the other, Kurtis kicked the door open. Inside, Felix sat alone in shadowed silence, hunched over on the sofa, his head buried in his hands.
âOi oi,â Kurtis chirped, his voice echoing through the empty room. âWhereâs your better half hidinâ?â
Felix didnât bother to look back.Â
âBasement.â
His tone was venomous. There was a dangerous stillness to him, a simmering rage bubbling just beneath the surface. Kurtis hesitated, knowing better than to poke the bear. As he edged closer, he noticed a series of deep scratches raking down Felixâs cheek - raw, red and angry.
âI could have fucking killed him, Kurt,â Felix spat, âLook what he fucking did to me.â His finger jabbed towards the inflamed wounds shredding through his face.
"Shitttt," Kurtis breathed. He drops the four-pack and stack of pizzas to the floor, his hand flying to his mouth in shock. The sight was horrific. Felix looked like he'd been mauled by a wild animal. Kurtis could ask why Josh would do that, but he knows why. He could only imagine the terror and pain Josh must have endured to lose control like that. The ladâs a fighter through and through, and Kurtis canât say he blames him.
But fighting back does him more harm than good. Josh should have learnt that by now.
âI give that brat everything! My heart and soul. I love him down to the bone!â Felix roared, spittle spraying and veins bulging at his temples, âAnd this is what I get?! Do you think I deserve this shit?!â
Felixâs body trembled with irrepressible rage, as if it were being torn apart from the inside out. The fury coursing through him was so intense, Kurtis feared he might burst an artery.
âJust take some time, yeah?â Kurtis crouched down to his level, placing his hand on Felixâs bouncing knees, âBreathe. Take a minute to yourself. Maybe sleep on it. Youâre wound up-â
âOf course Iâm fucking wound up, he attacked me!â Felix bellowed.
âI know, mate. I know. But lashinâ out ainât gonna solve anything, is it? It'll only make it worse. Youâre gonna push him further away, you donât want that.â
Felixâs usually warm and soft brown eyes had narrowed to slits, a storm raging within. His jaw clenched, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he ground his teeth together. There would be no getting through to him, not like this.Â
âHow longâs e been down there for, then?â Kurtis sighed, pushing himself up to his feet.
âA few hours. A day? I donât know. Donât care,â Felix shrugged dismissively. Itâs just a facade. When he cools down heâll be fawning all over Josh again, heâll be glued to him.
âIâll go check in on him.â
âNo,â Felix barked, âLeave him down there. I want him to stew on what heâs done.â
âAnd I wanna have a word with him. I bet I can knock some sense into that stubborn head of his.â
Kurtis made his way to the basement door, unbolting the sliding locks and turning the key. The basement was sub-zero, without a doubt, his skin broke out into goosebumps from the first step. His breath fogged before him in the frigid air. His eyes strained against the darkness, trying to make out something out of nothing. The only light a faint, flickering bulb swaying overhead. A shiver trickled down his spine as he descended deeper into the depths.
What Kurtis saw made his blood run cold - colder than the bitter air around him. He wasnât sure what he was expecting but it wasnât this. Any frustration with the boy dissipated in a heartbeat as pity crept in to take its place.Â
Josh laid on his belly, half-hanging off the metal cot - like heâd crawled to his âbedâ but couldnât muster the energy to heave his body completely up. The chain around his ankle snaked across the floor, marking his trail from the drain to where heâd collapsed. His hands still cuffed above his head. Whip marks criss crossed the entirety of his back, slashed to smithereens, leaving crimson welts blooming against his sickly pale skin. He couldnât lie on his back even if he wanted to.
And Joshâs face? It made Felixâs wounds look like a little kitty scratch. A bruised eye, the color of grapes, was swollen shut. His still good-eye, streaming with tears, watched Kurtis like a hawk. A rag soaked with blood and saliva was jammed into his mouth, his lips busted and split around the gag.
âOh, mate,â Kurtis exhaled, his voice heavy with concern. âWhat have you gotten yourself into this time?â
Josh couldnât stop sniffling, his Adam's apple fluttering as he swallowed down his sobs. This was in no way comparable to Felixâs injury, this wasnât a level playing field. Kurtis hovered his palms over Joshâs back, just above his raw, open wounds. Jesus christ, he could feel the heat radiating from his skin, it felt like he was holding his hands to a bonfire.
He knelt beside Josh, his heart aching at the sight of the ladâs injuries. He didnât deserve this, despite what he did. Itâs not proportionate - itâs overkill. The boyâs good eye rolled in its socket before trying to drift shut with pain and exhaustion. Kurtis tentatively reached a hand out to tuck away the strand of hair hanging in front of Joshâs black eye, but panic fills Josh - he flinches away from his hand and cries out into the gag.
âHey, hey! Easy now,â Kurtis soothes. âYouâre alright. I ainât gonna hurt you, just tryna get a good look at the damage.â
Suspicion and doubt crossed Joshâs face, but he had no choice but to accept. He let Kurtis tuck his hair away from his face, and trace the unmarred skin around his bruise. Kurtis sucked his teeth and shook his head in disapproval. Too far. He went too fucking far. Again.
Kurtis carefully pried the gag free from Joshâs beestung lips and let it fall around his neck. âTell me your side of the story, man. What the shitting hell happened?â
Joshâs lip quivered. He gulped before he spoke. âHe - He tried to râŚr-aâŚp-,â Josh couldnât finish the word before he fell apart. Kurtis was sure heâd never seen such pain and suffering in his life, not even the other ones endured hell like this. Josh was an inconsolable wreck, hiccuping and choking on his tears, âI canât. I canât do it anymore. I c-canât do this. Please - Iâm tired-â
A cry for mercy. Kurtis hears it, but heâs too stunned into silence to warrant it with a response.
âI just wanted him to stop. I-I wanted to make it stop. I-I didnât mean t-to hurt him, I swear-â Josh squalls desperately. And somehow, Kurtis knew he was telling the truth. Josh didnât want to hurt FelixâŚbut he needed to. In a moment of panic, pain and humiliation blurring together, Joshâs body overrode his head and heart. Fuck. Kurtis promised himself he wouldnât feel sympathetic for this oneâŚ.
âLetâs get you cleaned up, eh?â Kurtis swiftly changed the subject. âThat might help you feel a bit better.â
He ran back up to the kitchen and grabbed what he could before sprinting back to Joshâs side. A bag of frozen peas from the freezer, a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the medicine cupboard, a dishcloth from under the sink.Â
âCan I clean your wounds, dude? Iâd hate for âem to get infected. You donât need any more strife, do ya?â
Josh weakly nodded his head and groaned his agreement. Kurtis doused the washcloth in the alcohol and touched it to one of the gashes. Josh bucked like a mule and shrieked in pain.
"Shh, I know. Sorry.â Kurtis murmured, his voice filled with sympathy. He gently pressed down between Joshâs shoulder blades, forcing him flat against the cot, "I know it hurts. Iâll be as quick as I can, yeah?â
Kurtis worked thoroughly at cleaning and sanitising Joshâs wounds, even as Josh wept and every muscle in his body tensed and trembled. Once he was done with the wounds, he handed the frozen peas over to Josh. With his cuffed wrists, Josh took the cold compress in his shaking hands and held it against his eye.
âKeep holding that there. Should help with the swelling. Lemme know if it thaws and Iâll find ya something else.â
Josh sniffled again. âI m-must have done something pretty horrible in a past life,â he murmured miserably. Kurtis canât help but recall how his eyes were so bright when they first met - even if they were twinkling with fear. Now they were just dull, and lifeless. The tears donât stop rolling down his gaunt cheeks.
âI-...Iâm going to die hereâŚarenât I?â Josh whispered, his voice cracking and broken.
This time Kurtis did dignify it with a response. âNo. Youâre not going to die. Not here. Not while Iâm around. Iâll keep him in check.â
âE-Even when Iâm o-oldâŚand grey. If Iâm still here then-?â the young lad croaked.
Kurtis perished the thought. He didnât even know if Felix would still keep him around when heâs grey and old and past it. Or if heâd die long before that day even comes. What could he ever say to make it any easier?
âThatâs not going to happen,â he settled on instead. It wasnât really lying. Josh probably wonât make it to that point - not if the state of him now is anything to go by.
âIâm going to hold you to that,â Josh scoffed, and Kurtis could have sworn he saw the slightest twinge of a cheeky smile through the mask of hurt. It pulled at Kurtisâ heartstrings. Thereâs not a bad bone in the boy's body⌠leave it to Felix to corrupt someone so innocent.
Kurtis swiped up the bottle of alcohol solution and the cloth, making his way towards the stairs.
âYouâre not l-leaving, are you?â Josh fretted.
âI didnât come here to see you today, did I?â Kurtis frowned, âYou were just a little pit-stop.â
Guilt flooded in when he saw Joshâs face drop, and his body slump.
âLook, justâŚget some rest. Be gentle with yourself. Iâll be the peacemaker and talk to the big-guy.â
âT-Thank youâŚâ Josh whispered. Kurtis only nodded in response and began trudging his way back upstairs.
âK-Kurtis?â Josh called after him. âCould you tell him that Iâm sorry? Please. I honestly didnât mean to hurt himâŚâ
âBetween me and youâŚgood on ya for getting a good lick in,â Kurtis winked down at him. âBeen a long time coming, if you ask me. Just watch it, okay? I think you should count your lucky stars this time⌠I doubt youâll be so lucky againâŚâ
----
tagging people that expressed interest in this on a previous post! My apologies if you do not wish to be tagged, pls let me know and I'll refrain from doing similar in future!:
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Hey! So Iâm really excited about the King of The Road story and I may or may not want to try drawing your characters⌠not that theyâll be amazing, but just for fun. I wanted to know how you picture them in your head. Like, based on reading Iâm guessing Danny is the one with red hair, green eyes, and slightly pale. George has oliveish skin and Iâm assuming maybe dark hair or dark eyes? Danny is on the smaller, slim side in guessing and George sounds like heâs a little fuller? I think you also mentioned that Danny was taller, like 5â11 and Georgie was 5â9. Thatâs all I really came up with, but like do you have preferences for hair cuts or maybe blemishes like birthmarks, moles, freckles, etc. Or other things like nose or eye shape.
I know the Trucker isnât fully fledged out or described in the story yet, but if youâd like to describe him too then that would be fun.
Thanks! -đŞť
Youâve got the basics of Danny and George correct. :-) Let me have a think on this. I might try to find face-claims for them. The Trucker wears a trucker cap and has longish dirty blond hair. Heâs rough around edges and rarely clean shaven. Heâs lean and wiry, like all muscle, no fat, but sort of lanky. I donât know. I can see him. In my head. Heâs not posh , but he can be charming. Donât know if that helps. Sorry for the very very very long delay. Iâll start looking for face-claims for my boys and if I find any good oneâs Iâll do a King of the Road face-claim post. Also, please always feel free to message. Me. I promise I wonât bite. LOL! I have attendance to swoon over any art that drifts my way. ;-)
hi I was browsing through the depths of your blog when I found this piece: https://www.tumblr.com/darkthingshappen/687733342319345664/whumpers-soiree-inspired-crackfic?source=share
I would love to see it in your masterlist so it doesn't get lost again if that's okay-
I will try to make that a happen ASAP! Thanks. :-)
Not exactly sure, but there is more coming. I have a lot plan for that series. Itâs just a matter of freaking writing it! LOL. I do wish life wouldnât get in the way so much. Iâm so sorry I canât give you a more solid answer than that. I do have more written. Itâs just not yet ready to be published.
hi you've not been online for a bit so I just wanted to check in to see if you're okay? I sincerely hope you're doing well in life and not being hard on yourself <3
Iâm good, just busy. Sorry everyone. Things are good. I had a very full summer between me and the kid. Then it was back to school way too soon. Hopefully will have some more writing updates soon. Sorry for the radio silence. I got behind. In responding to things and then it was just overwhelming to try to catch up. I shall try to be around more going forward.
Aria was nine years old when the Lyles brought her home a big brother.
Ezra didnât talk much. Hardly at all. But Aria didnât mind, because she didnât like talking all that much either. Sometimes she thought that was why the Lyles picked her.
She had been living there for two years already, which sort of made her feel like the older of the two, even though Ezra was three years older and a few inches taller. She wanted to be his friend, because it was lonely being in the big house with no other kids. But every attempt she made to bond with him was met with cold, prickly avoidance.
Ezra got in trouble a lot. He yelled sometimes when he got angry. Threw things, broke things. He was angry most of the time. The Lyles liked to remind him how lucky he was to have the life they gave him, and Ezra liked to remind them that they were not his parents. Though they both knew, legally, that wasnât true.
Aria got angry a lot, too. But she kept hers quiet.
She was eleven the first time she caught Ezra drinking. He told her she could go tattle to the Lyles, that he didnât care, but the thought hadnât even occurred to her. Their adoptive parents were mean to Ezra. Why would she want to make it worse for him?
He didnât believe her. But over time he must have realized that she meant it. That Aria wasnât the same as them, that she could be trusted.
They became close after that. For a few years, they were inseparable. Aria taught him how to braid her hair, something her grandma had showed her when she was young, and he would help her in the mornings before school. Ezra taught her how to play the guitar, which she liked much more than the piano lessons the Lyles forced her to take.
She asked him to stop drinking one day. And for a while, he did.
Things got bad again when they were in high school. Ezra got around a bad group of friends and started drinking again. His anger got worse. Harder for him to manage. He told Aria once that he didnât like being the way that he was, that he felt out of control. But the more angry he got, the more their parents tried to box him in, and he got angrier still in return. An embarrassment, they called him when he acted out in front of company. Ungrateful.
Ezra told them he shouldnât have to be grateful for something he never wanted in the first place.
Aria was fifteen when her big brother disappeared.
Heâs eighteen, her parents told her. The police canât search for someone who wanted to go missing. Even though Aria knew how much the police liked the Lyles and their money, so they probably would have looked anyway, if theyâd asked.
She knew they never asked. That they never would.
It didnât take long to realize that Ezra hadnât run away on his own.
Aria was nineteen when she found out what really happened to her brother. The anger she had held back for most of her life rushed to the surface, but she had to keep it in check. She had to be smart and use that anger in the right way, at the right time.
It would take her years, and it would take her to places she didnât expect, but she knew in that moment she would do whatever it took to get her brother back.
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WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, mentions of alcoholic behavior, homophobia, bad parental relationships, talk of parental death
âYou didnât mention itâs your birthday,â is the first thing Jaime says when they get back in the car.Â
Heâs getting better about that, Sebastian thinks. Initiating casual conversation on his own terms. On one hand, Sebastian is elated at the show of progress. On the otherâŚÂ
Sebastian winces. The well-meaning bank teller had checked his ID and wished him a happy birthday while Jaime stood in earshot, keeping his expression neutral until they were alone.
âI didnât,â Sebastian agrees, retrieving the two lollipops he had swiped from the bank from his pocket. âRed or blue?â he asks, holding them out to Jaime.Â
He studies them for a few secondsâmaybe trying to predict which one Sebastian prefers, maybe thinking about the strict rules around food inside the facilityâbefore plucking the blue one from his hand.Â
âThank you,â Jaime murmurs. Then, after a pause, âSorry. Did you not want me to know?â
Sebastian pulls the wrapper off and pops the cherry sucker in his mouth, then shifts the car into gear to avoid Jaimeâs eyes.Â
âItâs not a secret,â he assures him. âI just donât like to make a big deal about it.â Or any deal at all. âI havenât in a long time.â
For a moment, the only sound is the soft crinkle of Jaimeâs wrapper as he unpeels and pockets it. âHow long?â he asks.
Sebastian shrugs. âFew years,â he says, which might be understating things. He hasnât had a real, proper, friends-gathered-round, cake-eating, too-many-shots-of-tequila birthday since his final year of undergrad.Â
Well. Except for the tequila. That part doesnât require friends.
For a moment, he braces himself for the inevitable why, but Jaime doesnât push. Of course he doesnât. Instead, he says something much more true to character:
âIâm sorry.â
Sebastian flashes him a quick smile. âNothing to be sorry for,â he says. âIâm hardly a social butterfly.â
âWhat about your friends? Do they know that you donât like to celebrate it?â
âKind of makes it easier that I donât have any,â he says lightly. Or, at least he intends for it to sound light.Â
Jaime glances at him with what appears to be genuine confusion. âWhat about Aria and Sam? Ezra?â
And that makes Sebastian blink, becauseâŚ
âOh,â he says lamely, a small kernel of guilt and surprise forming. âWell, I guess⌠I mean, I didnât know them until more recently. This was my first birthday since becoming⌠their friend, I guess.â
âWhat about your family?â Itâs like Jaime hears his own question as it comes out, and surely he must feel the sudden tension that grips the silence between them, because he immediately backtracks. âSorry,â he says quickly. âI shouldnât have⌠Thatâs none of my business.â
The regret in his voice borders on fear, and Sebastian has to keep himself from reaching out to reassure him.Â
âItâs alright. Youâre allowed to ask me questions, Jaime. My parentsâŚâ He has to stop and swallow around a rising lump. âTheyâre not really in the picture.â
âOh.â
Jaime doesnât ask for more, but the silenceâand maybe itâs not just the silence, he thinksâmakes more words rush to the surface, breaching the floodgates to a subject he rarely speaks about.
âI mean, they raised me,â he rambles. âTheyâre alive. But I havenât spoken to them in a long time. Since I was eighteen, to be exact.â He stops, really thinking about the expanse of time that now bridges between now and then. It feels like a mile and an inch all at once. âAlmost a decade, now,â he adds quietly.
Sebastian is fairly familiar with the careful way Jaime chooses his words, so heâs not surprised when he takes a while to chew his next ones over, patient and only a little bit nervous.
âIâm sure you have a good reason.â
âHa,â the bitter noise startles out of Sebastian. âYeah, no, it wasnât quite my decision.â
âOh,â Jaime whispers. âTheyâŚ?â
Sebastian nods, keeping his eyes straight ahead and his grip steady on the wheel. âThey are religious,â he said, keeping his voice detached. âTraditional. Whatever you want to call it. And they didnât take kindly to their only son coming out.â Sebastian flashes him a wry grin. âIn case you werenât aware, Iâm extremely gay.â
Jaime doesnât return the smile. âThey kicked you out?â
âTechnically, I was already leaving. I told them right before I moved away to college, but⌠Yeah. They cut me off completely after that. Anyway,â he finishes ineloquently. âMy birthday isnât much of a problem for them, either.â
âIâm sorry,â Jaime repeats.Â
âThanks, Jaime. It's okay, really. Iâm fine now.â Iâm fine now, he repeats internally, for good measure. I turned out fine.
For a moment, it almost seems like Jaime is going to argue, but he settles back into the seat instead, turning his head toward the window.Â
Theyâre a few minutes from home when Jaime speaks again.
âMy parents were out of the picture, too,â he says softly.
Sebastian has to grip the wheel so as not to crash the car out of utter shock. Because he can count on approximately one finger the number of things he knows about Jaimeâs past, and this piece of information carries weight he didnât expect to be handed right now. He wants to cradle this secret between his palms with all the delicacy of balancing a bubble on skin.Â
âYeah?â Sebastian nudges him carefully, stealing a glance in his periphery.
A single nod. âThey died when I was young. Both of them. I... I grew up in foster care.â
Itâs strange, what happens when you begin to build a relationship with someone from the ground up; how a piece of the puzzle can come in and snap others into place. How one sliver of context can start to paint a picture. How it can break your heart for the person sitting next to you, and also give you some insight on how they got there to begin with.Â
An ugly chain of events begins to take root in his mind: passed from one government system to another, another vulnerable statistic slipping through the cracks.Â
âIâŚ,â Sebastian begins and immediately falters. âJaime, I donât...â
âIâm not supposed to talk about them,â Jaime says. "Or any of it."
âI know.â
âItâs hard to remember them clearly. Itâs been so long.â
âYou can talk about them with me,â Sebastian offers, knowing he is tiptoeing on precarious grounds. âIf it helps to remember them.â Jaime nods, and Sebastian wishes he could reach over and take his hand. âHow old were you? Only if you're comfortable saying.â
Sebastian watches the jerk of his throat as he swallows. âEleven.â
âGod, Jaime, you were just a baby.â Youâre still so young.Â
They come to a stop in the driveway, and Sebastian kills the engine, plunging them into a heavy quiet. From beside him, Jaimeâs hands are a constant twitch of nervous energy.
âI want to say something,â Jaime says. âI⌠I donât want to overstep. Iâm sorry if IâŚâ He stops to clear his throat, then looks up, piercing Sebastian through the middle with a rare moment of held eye contact. âI think your parents are wrong. For wanting you out of their lives.â
The contempt dripping from the word "wrong"âa brand new edge to Jaimeâs normally soft spoken toneâsuggests there is something far worse heâd like to say. But the fact that Jaime has voiced this much negative emotion at all speaks volumes. And despite the sore spot of the subject matter, something like fondness glows bright in his chest.Â
He holds Jaimeâs eyes for a few more seconds. âThatâs nice of you to say.â
Jaime lets out a slow breath. He nods.Â
As they retrieve the paper grocery bags from the trunk, Jaimeâs shoulder brushes warmly against his own for just a fleeting second. âHappy birthday, Sebastian,â he says.Â
When he smiles, the inner edge of his lips are tinted blue from the candy.
Sebastian, carefully, lets his shoulder nudge him back. âThank you,â he says. âFor that, and for telling me about your parents.â
He doesnât say: your trust is the best gift I could have asked for. But he means it all the same.
****
When Sebastian comes out of his room, just after sunset, he stops short at the warm-sugared aroma of the house. His nose leads him to the kitchen, where he finds a small, circular cake sitting on the table. A singular candle flame flickers in the low light, and behind it, Jaime. The shadows dance over his mask of trepidation, his fidgeting hands held at waist height.Â
âI hope this doesnât count as a big deal,â Jaime says quickly, as if heâs been rehearsing the words in his head. âI found a pack of candles in the back of the cabinet, and you already had all the ingredients to make it from scratch, so I figuredâŚâ He stops short, eyes widening. âAre you okay?â
It is only then that Sebastian feels the moisture beading down his cheek. He wipes it away, a breathy, startled laugh escaping him.
âI kind of want to hug you right now.â The words sort of stumble out without much thought, and he stiffens as he hears them, ready to snatch them back.
But Jaime says, âYou can, if you want.â He must hear the passive choice of words as he says it, read the apprehension on Sebastianâs face, because he shakes his head and rephrases. âI want you to. Iâd like to give you a hug.â
And then heâs stepping around the table, and Jaime is in front of him. He holds his eyes for a moment, checking and double checking that this is alright. When Sebastian raises his arms in invitation, just a few cautious inches, Jaime steps into them.
Itâs slow and soft, and it doesnât linger. Just a few precious seconds of Jaimeâs hands pressed flat against Sebastianâs back, of Sebastianâs arms featherlight above Jaimeâs shoulders, and the warm pulse of heartbeats where their chests touch between them.
The cake is still warm, the frosting slightly melty, when Sebastian takes his first bite. He nearly cries all over again at the taste. Sebastian makes sure to cut Jaime the slightly larger slice, and relishes in watching him finish the whole thing.
They spend the rest of their Saturday night curled under blankets on opposite ends of the sofa, with Bella stretched out between them. Jaimeâs eyes start to drift during the opening credits of their third movie, and by the end he is fast asleep. Sebastian allows himself a few selfish moments to watch him at peace. His mouth hangs slightly agape. Bella, who has crawled onto Jaimeâs chest at some point in the night, vibrates with soft purrs against his neck.Â
Sebastian blinks hard and remembers the wish he made as he blew out the candleâthe first he had made since he was a child.Â
Please, let him be happy. Please, let him be free.
Oh this is lovely. Big things in quiet moments indeed. I love these two so much. I want to cuddle them both. LOL! Lovely update. They needed the hug. Just beautiful.
HOW DARE HE STILL TREAT ANDREI LIKE THAT IT HAS BEEN ONE LONG FUCKING YEAR ACTUALLY MORE THAN A YEAR AND THAT WAS JUST ONE TINY EETY BEETY INFRACTION ON HIS PART AND HE'S STILL THREATENING TO PUT HIM IN A MUZZLE??? YOU THREATEN ANDREI?? YOU THREATEN THE GOOD DOCTOR?? HELL FOR VOLKOV!! HELL FOR VOLKOV!!FOR A GAZILLION YEARS!!! AND THE OTHER THREE IDIOTS TOO HOW DARE YOU NOT DO ANYTHING FUCK YOU MR 'I KNOW WHO PAYS MY BILLS UNLIKE ANDREI' NICKOLAI DO YOU SEE HIS SHAKING HANDS?? HOW CAN YOU NOT FEEL AWFUL FOR HIM YOU'RE NOT EVEN FUCKING ATTRACTED TO HIM SO STOP TORTURING HIM HE LITERALLY HAS NOT DONE IT AGAIN FOR OVER A YEAR OVER A YEAR OVER A YEAR OVEERR A YEAAAR VOLKOOV GET HIM OUT OF THE DITCH ACTUALLY JUST LET HIM GO COMPLETELY HE DID NOTHING WRONG AND YOU WERE WORKING JUST FINE ON THAT ISLAND WITHOUT HIM SO YOU'RE PERFECTLY CAPABLE JUST LET ANDREI GO SO THAT HE DOESN'T PAY FOR YOUR STUPID ASS CRIMES AFTER THE RAID ON YOUR HOUSE AND ON THAT NOTE HOW DARE THEY IMPRISON ANDREI?? ANDREI??? THE ONLY GOOD SOUL IN THE ENTIRE HOUSE?? YOU IMPRISON ANDREI??? FUCK YOU FICTIONAL RUSSIAN GOVERNMENT!! AND JUST WHEN HE'D HAVE GOTTEN A CHANCE TO GET TO AMERICA THROUGH BEN'S WEDDING?? VOLKOV SNATCHED HIM AWAY?? AGAIN?????? AGAIN!!! AGAAAIN!!???!?!?!? WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!! WHAT DID HE DOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! AND THE BARE LITTLE TOUCHES HE HAS BEEN FORCED TO GIVE BEN AS A TOKEN OF HIS SYMPATHY AND AFFECTION? HRNNNGGHHHHHHHHH!!! THEY NEED TO HUG!! THEY NEED A HUG ASAAP!!! LET ANDREI GET BACK TO HIS FAMILY SCOT FREEE!!!! STUPID FICTIONAL GOVERNMENT AND STUPID FICTIONAL VILLIANS FUCK YOU VOLKOV GO DIE IN A DITCH ALL ALONE AND THEN SPEND THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR AFTERLIFE IN THE WORST PART OF HELL WHERE YOU'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO HURT ANY NICE DOCTORS EVER AGAIN!!! ANDREI IS A DOCTOR!! A FUCKING DOCTOR!!! HE'S SUPPOSED TO HELP PEOPLE!!! HELP PEOPLE GET BETTER!!! NOT PREPARE PEOPLE FOR MORE TORTURE!!!! THIS IS WRONG!!! VERY VERY WRONG!!! SOO UNFAIR SO SO SO SO SO UNFAIR!! JUSTICE FOR ANDREI!! JUSTICE FOR ANDREI FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!!! JUSTICE FOR ANDREI FOREVER!! SOMEONE GIVE HIM MINOR AMNESIA SO HE FORGETS ALL THE AWFUL VOLKOVY STUFF!! VERY VERY GOOD KILLING ILYA GOOD JOB FICTIONAL AMERICAN GOVERNMENT!! AGENT VAAUGHHHHNN GOOD JOBB!! GOOD JOB!! YOU SAVE BEN?? YOU SAVE BEN FROM UGLY EVIL CREATURES??? RAISE FOR AGENT VAUGHN! RASIE FOR AGENT VAUGHN FOR A THOUSAN YEARS!! BANISH THE EVIL MEN AND THEIR RECEDING HAIRLINES!! STUPID CAMERA FUCKING NERD HE BETTER HAVE GOTTEN CAPTURED TOO WHY NOT MAKE HIM SUFFER IN ANDREIS PLACE?? HE'S WORSE?? HE'S UGLY??? WHAT'S THE PROBLEM??? OR BETTER YET KILL HIM TOO SO HE SUFFERS DOUBLE IN THE AFTERLIFE!!! STUPID FUCKING UGLY ASS IDIOT!! BET HE SLEEPS TO ANIME PILLOWS BECAUSE HE CAN'T CONSENSUALLY GET A GIRL!! JUST BECAUSE SHE IS STATED TO BE A THOUSAN YEARS OLD DOESN'T MAKE IT NOT PEDOPHILIA IF SHE STILL LOOKS NINE YEARS OLD NICKOLAI!! I HOPE YOU CRACK YOUR GLASSES AND THEY GET INTO YOUR EYE SOCKETS AND INTO YOUR BRAIN AND GIVE YOU PERMANENT BRAIN DAMAGE AND BLINDNESS THOUGH YOU ALREADY HAVE THE FORMER FICTIONAL SPETSNAZ MY ASS!! AND THE OTHER TWO WITH THEIR STUPID PUG FACES!!! ILYA YOU'LL NEVER BE VOLKOV S NUMBER TWO?? HOW DOES THAT FEEL HUH?? OH WAIT YOU'RE DEAD!!! AND AND DMITRI YOU CAN IMITATE VOLKOV ALL YOU WANT BUT YOU NEVER WILL BE HIM!! HOW DOES THAT FEEL HUH?? OH WAIT YOU'RE DEAD TOO!! BURN IN HELL!! SUFFER SUFFER FOR YOUR SINS!! ALEXSEI 'I MADE MY EMPIRE ON MY OWN AND I ANSWER TO NO ONE FOR IT' VOLKOV!! YOU WILL HAVE NOT EVEN A CAGE TO YOUR NAME IN HELL!! HRJEJSNSNSNZBDBNDNDNSSKKEOEKEJEBRBEBENNSSNNSNSKKJFJNFJDJDEJIEKEKRJTBTBBEBEJWKSOWOWHEBENWJWJSJSJSNSNSNSNSN#NDNJEJEJSBSBDBFHFIOSAOWNEBRVVRHRJTJTJRIEKSJJJDHHBABDBUMAN D UIUR STHOID EYEBBRWOSBL EYEBRWOS LOOK LKEK STARVEING CATERPILLARS YIU BREAK EVRYY BMKIROOR YOU LOOK AT DIEDIEDIEDIDDIEDIEDEE GIVE BACK MY MONEH
Ls. Love your workbauhojr sorry forthebrantc goso nhitte ngoightbn night hmn
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Wow...
Um... Thanks? I guess? This has to be the craziest review/ask I've ever gotten. I-
Wow. I don't even know exactly how to respond. LOL. Yes, Ilya bit the dust and Ben was rescued. Yes they arrested everyone who was there. No, Volkov was not there and nor was Dmitri. Yes, Andrei was there. Nikolai's fate has yet to be addressed. Sorry. He does tend to be a bit of an afterthought. Oops.
I'm sorry this sort of broke you. LOL. The story is not over, just this particular arc, but obviously there is still a lot more to come. Lol. Be safe and only read going forward if your mental health is okay. Take some deep breaths. Touch some grass maybe?
In all seriousness, thank you so much for this. It made my day. :-D I adore writing Ben's story and it's just the cherry on top that other people like it and are emotionally invested in it. <3
Oh that's why Ilya wasn't mentioned much! he was, well, dead! lmao
Yep... Not much you can do with a character after that. LOL. I knew when I mapped this story out early on he'd be the one to snuff it during Ben's first rescue. We shall have to see how other's fair as the story continues.
Absolutely loved your recent piece! (Love all your works really-). I don't know how or why but it felt more brutal than even the Christmas one (shudders on that one too tho). Maybe because your writing has improved even more? But just the way you describe everything is so so so raw (it has always been that way but this one just hit so hard I nearly cried)
Ps. If Ben could take one object with him into captivity for keepsies what would he choose?
~ đ˘ anon
Psps. Do u mind more asks?
Awwww. Thank you so much for reaching out to let me know. Ben is my child. My baby. I pour my heart and soul into his story. LOL. Ben has utterly lost himself by this point. He's in his head and not sure how to get out or if he even wants to.
As to your question, initially Ben would have said his Bible. However, I think after a couple of weeks he would have simply preferred warm a blanket or a soft hoodie. Not that his Bible isn't still important to him. But he has a lot of the passages that meant the most to him memorized, so the blanket would be more practical. Still, that being said, being able to read again would give his mind something to do. But as you can see by that last piece, his mind is shot by the time he gets rescued. Interesting to think about though, isn't it? If he'd been able to engage mentally with other things, would have have retreated so far into himself. I'm not sure that I even know the answer.
My ask box is ALWAYS open. I love getting asks. Please feel free to send more. :-)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming