#whumpspicelatte

Nox fidgeted with his hair. It was, for once, down and frizzy instead the image of perfection it usually is. He'd sent Dayzel on an errand while he did this. He'd gone to Rupert's apartment alone.

As Soon as Rupert answered the door, his face shifted to concern and he quickly ushered his best friend inside. "Nox? What's up?" He placed a hand on Nox's shoulder.

"I... Have to ask you something." Nox pulled away and bit at his knuckle.

"Yeah... Yeah sure. Anything." Rupert cautiously sat down on his beat up couch and gestured for Nox to sit next to him.

Nox sat down but faced the side so he could still look at Rupert, but he refused to meet his eyes. "I... I want-" he cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh.

"It's ok, take your time." Rupert placed a warm hand on Nox's thigh, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles.

Nox took a deep breath and placed his hand over his friend's. "I... I want you to mark me."

As soon as it was spoken, Rupert froze. "Excuse me?"

"I want you to mark me." Nox repeated, holding Rupert's hand tightly.

"But why?" Rupert asked in an incredulous whisper.

"I just do. Trust me... Just don't question it." Nox shook his head and fiddled with his hair again with his free hand.

"Did something happen with Dayz-" Rupert started but Nox interrupted him

"NO! No... This has nothing to do with him." Nox huffed. "I just... I want you to mark me."

"Nox you know what that would mean. I would own you." Rupert narrowed his eyes, his voice measured.

Nox nodded. "I know. I want you to. But I want to keep it a secret."

"Is this a kink thing-?"

"It's not a kink thing!" Nox let out an exasperated sigh and yanked his hand away. "Just... I want this. I need you to hold me accountable."

Rupert paused, silent for a moment. He took a deep breath and gently took Nox's hand again and kissed his knuckles tenderly. "... Ok. I'll do it. Where do you want it?"

Nox took his hand back and unbuttoned his shirt a bit and pulled it to the side. He took Rupert's hand and placed it over his heart. "Here."

"Are you sure?" Rupert looked hesitant.

"I am." Nox offered a small smile.

"What will you tell Dayzel?" Rupert started to pull his hand away, but Nox grabbed his wrist and held it in place.

"I'll tell him I got a tattoo..." Nox tried to sound confident.

"Don't you hate tattoos? And you have an incredibly low pain tolerance..." Rupert raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell him I changed my mind. I'll-" Nox took a deep breath. "I'll even let him get his own tattoo too."

Rupert seemed surprised. "You're really serious aren't you?"

"I am." He nodded, squeezing Rupert's wrist gently.

Rupert looked into Nox's eyes and searched for any doubt or hesitation, finding none he took another deep breath and sighed. "I guess we're really doing this then..." He reached for Nox's free hand. "Squeeze my hand if it's too much. I don't know how bad it'll hurt, but I doubt it'll be pleasant."

Nox nodded silently and braced himself, already squeezing Rupert's hand lightly.

Rupert closed his eyes and focused on doing what he was meant to do. His palm slowly heated up on Nox’s pale and sensitive skin, until it reached scorching hot temperatures. 

Nox’s mouth opened but only strangled short sounds came out. The only reason he didn’t scream was because it felt like he had no air to breathe. He was practically crushing Rupert’s hand with how hard he was squeezing. But then Rupert’s hand started to cool down leaving behind a stinging, burning, tender feeling over his chest. Slowly Nox forced himself to breathe. Rupert pulled his hand away and stared at the black lines left on Nox’s chest in the shape of a flaming heart. “It’s done…” He said softly. Nox hesitantly let go of Rupert’s hand and immediately went to touch the mark, but Rupert caught his wrist. “It’s still fresh… I wouldn’t try to touch it yet.”

Nox lamely nodded, still reeling. “O-ok.”

“Here, let me get some of my tattoo aftercare supplies for you to take home and really sell it. Plus it probably couldn’t hurt to actually use them.” Rupert brought Nox’s hand up and gave it another gentle kiss before getting up.

“Ok…” Nox repeated as his hand fell at his side.

"Thank you for tending to my injury," he murmured. His instincts wanted him to purr again, and so he did. A quieter rumble than before, but still there, still soothing like a cat's.

His tail began to thump quietly against the floor.

Was he leaning into the 'cute pet' angle as a form of self-defence? Yes, yes he was. Did he feel any shame over it? No.

It kept Jay happy and him safer. That's what mattered.

"Good boy..." He was leaning in again. His eyes were closed this time. It was perfect... blood smeared lightly on his delicate face and through his snow white hair... the soft purr rumbling up from his chest as he leaned in for affection despite the way Avery had just cut him open...

For Polydegmon, he tends to use generic pet names for most of his whumpees, who he tends to not be overly attached to; ''darling" or "sweetheart", mainly, with "child" or "little one" if they're young or acting immature. For Cerberus, his main whumpee, though, he calls him mainly "my beast", both in public and in private :3 he finds it v versatile, reminding Cerberus of his place and what he has become, reinforcing Cerberus's image to patrons and guards, and discretely eroticizing both Cerberus's strength and danger as well as, critically, how he will 'heel for' and obey Polydegmon anyway, in spite of Polydegmon's much lesser strength and fragility. And of course, it reminds everyone that Cerberus belongs to him :3

When he's feeling softer, wants to reinforce Cerberus's emotional dependency on him a bit more, or as a reward, he'll sometimes call Cerberus 'my pet' or just 'pet', 'puppy' or 'dearest' :3 it's only when he's very drunk or when he's somewhat delirious that he'll call Cerberus 'treasure' or 'my heart'.

Ian, on the other hand, tends to use more personalized pet names for all his whumpees, yet uses them much more sparingly with his brother-whumpee Terry :3 His use of pet names for whumpees is nearly always purposefully mocking and unnerving; he may call someone 'flower' if they 'break easily' on a physical level or have a low pain tolerance, 'beautiful' if he's leaving them a bloody, broken, battered wreck with obvious marks left behind, 'sunshine' if they seem particularly optimistic or started off annoyingly cheerful, 'princess' especially for male whumpees as a dig at their masculinity, 'loverboy' or 'lovergirl' if they flirted with him too much for his liking before captivity, or 'doll' if they freeze up as a fear response or have a habit of dissociating or going catatonic.

For his whumpee Terry, though, he typically just uses his brother's name, or turn to derogatory terms like commonly 'slut' (despite Terry being pretty much celibate) or 'brat' (because he knows being called that is a trigger of Terry's) to get under Terry's skin. The one big pet name that he uses for Terry, though, is 'good boy' when Terry does what Ian wants, due to the effect he knows it has on his brother :3 how it makes Terry feel small and vulnerable and typically ashamed of himself for going along with what's happening :3 all the better for prodding at the internalized victim-blaming Ian helped to beat into Terry :3

MY BEAST <333 yesss love all the implications with that one…and then switching to PET…PUPPY…OWAUGHHH

oh yes i remember Ian's clever little pet names…good times <3 i love how he'll feminize male whumpees with princess but the girls don't get prince. if i remember right Ian has A Bit Of Sexism (or at the very least, Mommy Issues lol) so i like that lil detail

The scent belonged to a dead man.

His fingers shook as he peeled off the gauze for Jay's inspection. Sorrel's gaze skittered away from the crevice in his flesh left behind by the deceptively tiny knife. It had filled with congealed blood, but still more continued to ooze out.

It probably could use a stitch or two to hold it together while he healed. Maybe medical glue or adhesive tape.

He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. Doing his best to block out the pain.

It was the first chance Avery really had to look at the injury. They weren't even able to enjoy it when they inflicted it... Such a shame... It really was pretty, though. The sharp contrast of red against Sorrel's pale skin. It did sort of look like it needed maybe a couple stitches... Well... Avery didn't really want it to heal too well, anyway. They would wrap it up nice and tight and keep a close eye on it.

It was only when they gathered his limp body in their arms and hugged him close that he moved, shoulders hunching and claws hooking daintily back into the fabric of their shirt.

He curled into their warm body in spite of himself beginning to shake again. Not out of cold, but fear. Fear of what was in store for him.

He swallowed back his nausea.

"...o-okay," he mumbled into their chest. "W-whatever you want."

He nosed against their throat. "You can...try to cut out my vocal cords, if you want to, but I can't guarantee that the scream won't evolve."

"A gag would muffle the scream and...trick my body into thinking that the scream happened, you could say. The effects are tied to sound. You can't hear the sound, you can't feel the effects. And if my vocal cords are intact, my body won't think it needs a stronger defence. Technically, my scream would still work, it'd just be locked away."

He swallowed thickly. "You'd...have to get a gag which muffles my voice very well, but it's doable." But not fun. He closed his eyes, breath hitching. It'd be terrifying.

But it would keep them both alive.

It was the most words he had ever spoken at once to Jay.

Wow... That was a lot from the shy, quiet fox... He really was afraid of dying, wasn't he? Afraid of pain... Afraid of getting on Avery's bad side at all...

Avery let their hand wander down to Sorrel's throat, wrapping their fingers around it with just the lightest squeeze. They weren't aiming to hurt, just then— only to scare. To see his reaction.

It would take over an hour before he'd begin to stir.

Seeing that Sorrel wouldn't really stir, Avery pulled him into their lap, petting him gently, taking joy in the soft texture of his fur. It was so incredibly fluffy and velvety... Avery didn't want to ever stop petting him. The way he purred was precious, too...