#captainsadist

Hope was in dire need of some help.

She was pretty sure it was evening now, approaching a full day since Trance had kidnapped her. The lack of sleep was actually rendering them vaguely delirious at this point. Shadows in the basement became shifting, abstract shapes. Everything had blurred edges. It wasn't just the tiredness, either. They were starving, dehydrated, they needed the bathroom, they honestly felt disgusting going over a day without a shower. Trance and, axiomatically, Seiren had left again, so conversation certainly wasn't an option. They couldn't even use their fucking phone to read or write or draw something; they were used to being overstimulated but rarely this horrifically understimulated. They felt like a Sim on 6 bars of fucking red.

She started singing quietly to herself just so she didn't lose her mind completely. "If I keep myself at home, I won't make the same mistake..."  They were a good singer, but the way it echoed around the dark basement was honestly kind of creepy. "That I made for fifteen years, I could be a new girl..." She sighed, already feeling weird just singing all alone in the dark, drawing slowly to a close after the single verse. "I will be... a new girl..."

You'd think if she was this tired, she'd be able to just... sleep, no matter what. But Hope had always been an insomniac. Sandy used to say they were "just a picky sleeper", like they were being purposefully difficult. But then Sandy used to say a lot of things. They'd had it more under control since college. They'd even made up a silly little acronym for it, an oddly fitting one considering they'd lived in Canada at the time. "I can only sleep when it's SNOWED." They'd only ever said it in their head, of course. Everyone else would find it stupid.

The first one, Silence, they had that. Truth was it wasn't really even silence they needed as such, just calmer sounds than those they'd grown up with; annoying sirens, fights breaking out, freight trains rattling over the nearby railway bridge. Right now it was too quiet, eerily quiet. Dark, that was fulfilled too, they couldn't really complain about that. It was the four criteria in the middle that were severely lacking for them, and that didn't look likely to change any time soon.

She heard what sounded like footsteps upstairs, right beside the basement door, and raised her head up slightly, waiting for it to open, a mix of scared they'd alerted someone and desperate for someone to come and talk to them. But when no trace of that came they slumped their head back down defeatedly. They shouldn't be hoping for Trance to get back anyway, it made no sense. Although... it did seem like he was only doing this to them because he had to. It wasn't like they hadn't killed out of necessity themself before.

God, they really shouldn't think like that. They couldn't risk getting attached to a captor again. Not after last time. But they saw so many similarities between themself and Trance that it was kind of difficult not to at times. The lines were admittedly kind of blurred by the fact that they'd already found him kind of hot as a celebrity. They still couldn't stop thinking about last night.

The way he'd teased his knife over her chest, tracing thin red lines over it. It was only when they'd made reference to the fact they, like he, had learnt to enjoy the sight of blood, did he begin to really cut. They looked down at the tear down the middle of their shirt and their heart beat faster again recalling it. The cuts that littered her pale skin there still stung a little, especially since he'd attempted to clean them with fucking whiskey this morning. It had hurt. But they enjoyed a little pain.

It was when he'd began to lick the blood from them, though, that their arousal really peaked. They'd have let him do almost anything to them at that point. They remembered the smarting sting from each lick, recalled the rough warmth of Trance's tongue against their skin, and their legs tingled a little, and at the time they'd moaned, god they'd flat-out moaned, he must have thought they were such a weirdo. But then maybe they were, because the memory of her blood and his saliva running together into wet, clear reddish smears against their chest was unbearably arousing. They wanted to beg him to cut more, lick more, cut more, lick more... lick more... lick more...

Imagining Trance running his tongue all over them again was making them shift their legs uncomfortably on the floor, already starting to blush deeply as their body tingled all over. Was it Trance, though, or Seiren? She recalled that little hint of fangs, the way his eyes had glowed... he may very well have been fully possessed by the demon as he did it. Was the imp just enjoying the taste of the blood... or was he actually in control at the time?

Either way... what if they hadn't stayed silent when he drew back, worried he was getting carried away? Those words felt like a warning, considering they'd already seen themself die at his hand the first time he'd uttered them. Hope's strange ability to die and come back, to experience kidnaps as some sort of endless loop until they found a safe route out, sometimes led them to overcautiousness, and now they were left with fear of missing out on what would have happened if things continued the previous night.

"Get carried away, please..." they begged in a quiet, delirious murmur. "Trance... Seiren..." She sighed quietly, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the pole. She wasn't averse to either of them being the one doing it, hell they'd probably be accepting of anyone's hands on them at this point, but they had to admit, they had a slight preference. They didn't fully like the way Seiren had spoken to them that morning. A little patronising, in their opinion, and that hurt their pride more than any taunts or abuse. She guessed she shouldn't really expect to like a demon. But she was going to have to live with the fact he was the one showing when their blood came into it.

"Seiren..." they repeated, still in that quiet, breathy murmur. "You'll get more blood out of me this way, Seiren..." the more confident version of them in their mind bargained flirtily. "Taste me again...?"  They imagined more cuts, more small sharp stings, more blood to sustain him. He needed them. He might not want them but he needed them to feed on at the moment. Almost like a vampire. Hmm. Maybe there was an appeal to Seiren there that they'd overlooked.

As they began to imagine, they tried moving their arms but they remained restrained, the rope chafing against their wrists. That was making the fantasy they had in their head more difficult, but certainly not impossible. They were somewhat of a writer after all. Seiren probably wouldn't agree to help, not wanting to give his iminent prey any kind of wiggle room no matter how much blood she offered. Maybe Trance would, though?

"I can't let you go." they imagined him saying, but then his face would soften a little. "But... maybe I can... bend the rules a little?"  They pictured him loosening their restraints slightly, their wrists still held tight against the pole, running his hands down their body and then taking their waist to slide them onto the floor, straddling them.

Yes, that preference was returning in full force. It wasn't even just because they were a fan of the singer, though there was probably some hint of parasocial fascination. It was actually because his personality when speaking with them here had captured their heart with sympathy far more than his more confident public persona. She knew it wasn't smart, but she couldn't help it. "Trance..." she shifted to whispering decisively in real life. Pleading with their imagined version of their captor. "Trance, Trance..."

"I think these are going to be in the way, aren't they sweetheart?"  he'd tease as he picked up on their desperation for him, running a hand over the fabric of her shorts, gliding across her thighs with only the thin layer of her tights between them."Whatever can we do about that...?" He'd make it difficult, like everything else, putting up obstacles, only this time she'd relish the challenge. In their head, they'd have to toy with him a little in return.

"What, you're that out of touch with regular people you can't undo a button, Trance?"  they'd reply with a playful wink. In reality they'd stopped saying anything at all, instead biting down on their lip, their eyes still shut tight. They hoped Trance would bite too, at their neck, at their lip as he kissed them, maybe even their thighs. In this idealistic little world they were carving maybe that could be their punishment for being a smartass. They'd bite him back hard though given half the chance. He deserved it for being an asshole. He also deserved it for being so sexy.

They were squirming against the pole as they imagined him spreading their legs and sliding in between them. Touching, teasing, slow as they lay there, bound helplessly. Their breath grew faster and deeper, their chest rising and falling as they wondered if they could get their legs around his neck. He wasn't that much taller than them. They bet they could. In their fantasy they certainly could. "Fuck me, Trance. Fuck me." He'd look at her like she was everything then. Like he adored her.

Because the truth was, last night had left her in a state because as always, it wasn't really about the blood, or the masochism, or being tied up. Yeah she got horny easily, but the fact she chose to share that wasn't because sex with another was necessarily better than on their own. It was the desperate want to be touched, to be intimate with someone, most of all to be loved. To be valued and adored and worth something instead of hurt and traumatised and killed over and over again. With the people she ended up with, be that through her own shitty choices or plain bad luck, the only way to really have that was to let themself be used.

Unfortunately with no ability to act upon her desires, all their active imagination was leading to was frustration. She squeezed her thighs together, shifting them back and forth to try to generate some friction, but to no avail. Finally opening their eyes, they let out an exasperated grunt, kicking their heel hard against the floor in frustration. It fucking hurt. But then what didn't anymore?

"...Everything alright?" Trance asked. The real Trance. They jumped hard. When the hell had he even come down here? They must have been so out of touch with reality that they didn't even register him coming down the stairs.

"Trance!" they replied with a mix of excitement he was actually there and a weird sense of guilt. "I-I was... just..." What exactly are they trying to cover up here? He had no idea they were just fantasising about him. He didn't exactly catch them red-handed when they were literally unable to use their hands. They tried to keep their breathing as quiet as possible so it wouldn't be obvious. "It's... good to... see you?" they ventured. What the fuck were they even saying at this point?

"Look, if you're going to try and persuade me to let you go, don't bother." he muttered. "Seiren made it pretty clear you're going to be the next one to feed him."

"I... I know..." they murmured distantly. They didn't know what to do about it with their brain too exhausted to function properly. "I just... I can't fucking sleep like this, Trance." they urged. Their dual needs and thier- ironically- vaguely trancelike state combined to induce them to mumble out an unusually bold request. "Maybe if I could... could share your bed..."

Trance raised a brow at them. "You gotta be fucking kidding..." he replied. There was some intrigue in his expression, his tongue running briefly across his lips, before he put up his walls again. "I'm not running a fucking hotel here, hun."

"I just, I really need something, I... I need..." they pleaded disjointedly, then gave him a desperate look. "I know you're only going to kill me but... but I just really need to sleep before I lose my fucking mind."

Trance scoffed slightly, rolling his eyes. "If I could wave a wand and give someone a good night's sleep, I wouldn't use it on you, sweetheart." he replied defensively, but then paused, looking her over with just a hint of empathy, and he seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts before relenting slightly. "Is there... anything else I can do for you though?"

"Fuck me...?" She obviously didn't say that thought aloud. If he wanted that he would have taken it from them already, just like almost everyone who'd had her in this position. Even a brief reprieve from all of this would help. Instead her eyes flicked to the side. "I really need a piss." they admitted, aware their involuntarily shifting legs would give credence to the claim. "A-and a shower, actually." they added quickly, eyes flicking upwards towards their now somewhat greasy hair. "Could I please just use your bathroom for like..." They didn't take long to get clean, of course. But what they needed right now might require a little more work, especially if they were standing. "...fifteen minutes?"

Trance looked at them suspiciously, stared at them for an uncomfortably long time. Eventually though, he seemed to take pity and relent, kneeling down beside them, untieing the rope Egon had bound their hands with and grabbing them by the arm to help them to their feet, his knife pointed in her direction. "Ten minutes." he replied. "Don't do anything stupid."

So Teigan was brought to the desert by Rey (who goes by Roadkill in this AU) to be hunted. She was grabbed just like how Rey usually gets his victims, her car broke down near his farm and she was unlucky enough for it to be that time of year for the hunt, so he kept her held captive for a few days before bringing her.

Teigan canonly works as a yoga instructor during the day and a dancer at night (this hasn't changed in the AU). During her time working as a sex worker, she's seen how awful men can be, especially men who feel like they can take whatever they want from people and prey on those they see weaker than them. So when she's brought to the desert and sees all these men acting like this is all a big game and like they can do whatever they want to her and her fellow captives, it really pisses her off.

She absolutely loves ✨️women✨️ so she's especially protective of Chamomile and Jaqueline (she ends up caring and protecting Tom as well since she sees him as just a sweet guy who got caught up in the wrong thing, as they all did). This is an AU where either the boys don't do the first blood or maybe whoever Derek brought was, idk man, Chamomile is alive and the girlies team up.

Teigan absolutely hates Jack especially and won't hesitate to throw herself in harm's way to protect the other captives (except maybe Richard).

She is still a beastkin in this AU (she's a tiger beastkin), but she really doesn't show her features to anyone, even though it might give her an advantage. She just doesn't wanna make herself more of a target than her smart mouth already does.