Now all I can think about is Henley having a little existential crisis. He realizes that he's completely alone in the world. Izaak tried to get rid of him, Ronan is bored with him, no one ever came to rescue him. He starts spiraling and eventually convinces himself that there is no one left that really cares about him😭

I live for Henley whump😈

THANK YOU, THANK YOUUU - IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) I had so much fun writing it!

(and also, this ask 🤌🤌🤌 you've inspired me AGAIN, SO TA-DA, MORE HENLEY WHUMP! 🙌)

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cw:// pet whump, dehumanisation, broken/submissive whumpee, noncon drugging, whumper turned whumpee, physical & emotional abuse, power imbalance, whumpee desperate for Whumpee's affection (lemme know if I missed any!)

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Henley sat curled up in his corner of the basement, arms hugging his knees tight to his pounding chest. Green-eyed jealousy burned behind his eyes as he watched Ronan cradle Izaak in his lap like an innocent newborn - brushing a tender hand over his flushed cheek, cooing down at him.

Even when drugged to the edge of oblivion just to keep him docile, Izaak still got to be adored, whilst Henley was left ignored.

It’s not fair.

Henley bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper, his fingernails already chewed down to the quick. Izaak didn’t even have to try. Henley had to grovel for scraps, beg for mercy, claw for the smallest hint of affection. Even when Izaak screamed and misbehaved, when he spat and bit back - he was still wanted.

No matter how hard Henley tried to be good. Tried to be quiet - made himself so small, seen and not heard, playing by every rule in Ronan’s book.

All he’d become was invisible. Was there any space left for him at all? Did the world even want him anymore?

Izaak had tried to get rid of him - tossed him aside like rotting fruit, too bruised to be worth keeping. And now Ronan had grown bored too. These days, he barely spared Henley a glance, unless it was to snap an order or kick him out of the way.

Desperate, needing something - anything - Henley crawled forward on shaking limbs and tried to nestle into Ronan’s leg, trying to feel the warmth of a touch that wasn’t cruel.

But before he could settle, Ronan snapped, smacking Henley down to the floor.

“Down! Bad boy, Henley!” Ronan roared with a sharpness that struck deeper than any whip. Henley cowered into himself, a whimper escaping his lips.

He dropped where he was, spine bowed, hands splayed against the cold stone floor. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Awaited further instruction…or reprimand.

“You wait your turn! Naughty mutt,” Ronan spat, returning his attention to his prized possession, stroking the hair away from Izaak's vacant face.

Henley froze where he was, shame curdling in his chest, and for a moment he swore he could feel the world collapsing in on him.

If he didn't have Ronan…he truly had no-one. Nothing. Nowhere. No name that meant anything to anyone. No face anyone’s missing. No place he could crawl back to, even if he were to crawl out of this hell.

Ronan was his last thread, and now that thread was fraying.

Henley wasn’t strong enough to fight. Not clever enough to escape. Not sweet enough to be loved anymore. He wasn’t Izaak, with his fire and his pretty little bruises that Ronan still cared to kiss.

If Ronan had left Henley to starve, fine. If he'd snapped his neck like a twig, fine. But this? Not even second-best, but just a fallback? A reserve? A hindrance? This slow unravelling; knowing he's unwanted and still being forced to stay - was somehow worse.

Date night for my girls 💙