Muzzled - Tumblr Posts

Febuwhump day 3: Muzzled

Fandom: Star Wars

Timeline: The Bad Batch

Warning: Character death

(I'm so proud of this story lol. Please enjoy.)

Hunter woke up in a cold, dark room. Looking around he noted the room was empty other than him. His wrist met with metal as he tried to pull them up. He was sitting on his knees, both his ankles and wrist cuffed. A tight cloth was tied around his head, tucked into his mouth to stop him from speaking. Trying to move the chains kept him against the wall.

    He tried to recount what had happened to lead him to this. He remembered being separated from the rest of the batch on their last mission. The planet was freezing cold and it started to take its toll on him. Walking through the woods he would be found by Crosshair who would stun him.

    Hunter wondered why Cross hadn't just killed him. Crosshair wanted him dead, he wanted all of them dead.

    Hours passed before light spilled into the room as the door opened. Hunter looked up to see his brother. "Hello Hunter." Crosshair said coldly.

    Hunter attempted to greet the soldier but was once again reminded of the cloth that restrained him from speaking.

    Crosshair chuckled "what's wrong, cat got your tongue?" He hissed.

    Hunter rolled his eyes.

    "Don't get too comfortable Hunter. Soon you'll see." Crosshair moved to the upper corner of the room.

    Hunter wondered what that could possibly mean. His question was answered soon after as he heard familiar voices taking of how to free their brother. Hunter panicked and looked at Crosshair. He was the bait.

    Crosshair grabbed one of his vibro-knifes from his armor. Hunter relieved whoever walked through that door first would have no chance to see what was waiting for them. It was a perfect plan.

    Hunter frantically tried to free himself from the chains. He desperately tried to remove the gag from his mouth. He could hear the footsteps of his family running closer to the cell he occupied. The beeping of the combination to the door scared him. He wished the batch would have just left him instead of falling for Crosshair's trap.

    The door opened. Tech walked through the door first followed by Echo. The other two stayed outside to guard the room. Little did they know the danger was already inside.

    Hunter tried desperately to alert his brothers of Crosshair. His muffled screams were heard but not understood until Crosshair's knife submerged in Tech upper back. Tech fell to the floor. Hunter shrieked, Echo gasped and took a step back as Omega and Wrecker took their eyes off the hall. All relieved what had happened. Crosshair had killed Tech. Crosshair had killed their brother, his brother in what he would say is in the name of the empire.

    Crosshair had no remorse. He stepped closer to Echo who had fallen to the floor in disbelief. He knew Tech was dead but needed to prove it to himself in some way. Echo couldn't lose another brother. Not after so maybe. Hunter continued screaming into the cloth, both to warn the others and from the sheer pain of losing his brother to one of their own.

    Wrecker would attack Crosshair while Omega would run to Tech and Echo. Echo shook Tech trying to wake him. He couldn't grasp the fact that Tech would never wake again. Like his other brothers he would forever rest, never to be bothered by the pain of the real world again.

    Crosshair jabed the knife towards Wrecker. Wrecker moved to the left to avoid injury. This unfortunately opened Crosshair to new possibilities. He slung the knife towards Echo. More attempted warnings ignored. Echo however would move on his own to stand and be hit in the lower back. This would force him right back on his knees.

    The suppressed screaming hadn't ceased. Attempting to warn the batch, trying to get them to leave. Hearing soldiers coming closer and closer. Though no one understood him, he pleaded to his family to leave him. Even if they did understand him they wouldn't. That's the way they were or at least were now.

Wrecker slammed Crosshair into the wall "Omega try to free Hunter!"

The girl moved from where she was comforting Echo over to Hunter. As to not scare her he finally let his voice rest.

"Hold on Hunter" she spoke softly. Gently untying the gag she pulled it away from his face.

"Leave, soldiers, hall" Hunter stuttered out, his throat horse and in pain.

"Hunter, we aren't gonna just leave you here." She fiddled with Hunters chains, attempting to free him.

"Please, no one else needs to die here." He begged her.

Omega's heart broke. No matter what they did Hunter always tried to look out for them. He couldn't let it be the other way. It was like if he didn't find a way to save them, no matter the cost, he would fail them. "Wrecker" the blonde began, "can you come get these chains off Hunter?" Omega's voice sounded calm. Hunter knew she wasn't, he knew it was for him. His heart shattered as he realized the position she was put in, the position that didn't allow her to be a child.

"You need to leave, please." Hunter looked at Wrecker as he walked over to him. "They're coming."

"We aren't going to leave you." Wrecker kneeled down and pulled the chains out of the wall and floor.

Echo had begun to attempt to fight Crosshair.

Picking up Hunter, Wrecker kneeled down to Tech. "I got them both, let's go!"

Echo moved from where he was and waited until the others were out of the room before rushing out. He would close the door before Crosshair would get the chance to leave.

The team would hardly escape. Back on the Marauder the family attempted to stay together, all just barely holding themselves in one piece.

After a while everyone was physically stable. Now they were left with three adults, one child, and a body. Cid would pity them and give them some time. None of them weren't sure how much time they really could take or how to properly handle the sharp grief that came with losing Tech.

Hunter rubbed the part of his face the gag had been. If only he could have told them, if only that cursed cloth hadn't been there.

@febuwhump

Alien abductions really are weird. Especially when the aliens seem to have no autonomy, and no one has a clue whose orders they are actually following.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my plot!

  TW: Threatened torture, abduction/kidnapping, aliens, PTSD, broken wrist, blood, muzzle, restraints, torture, mild language

Day Four: Four Calling Birds: Muzzled | Memories/Flashbacks | Favorite Holiday Memories

Note: Infinity War and Endgame never happen. Nothing post Spider-Man Homecoming is canon to this fic. In this AU, Thanos was stopped by Carol, the Guardians, and some of his other adopted children before he could ever make it to Earth. Tony still has PTSD, but is aware that the threat he had seen while falling back to Earth had been eliminated. Carol had alerted them all that she had taken care of the threat.The Superior IS NOT like the Supreme Intelligence from Captain Marvel. All should be revealed by the end of this fic.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

@amonthofwhump

Art by @elgrajaz of my innocent oc son, Trouble. Trying out a cute onesie for Halloween. Look at that cherubic face. How could anyone not see an angel when he smiles? Very mean and unfair things happen in Ch 13 of Overcome.

“I don’t think you should be around Paul anymore.”

Trouble looked up at F, holding his gaze while he scraped the muzzle against his shoulder and whined.

“I didn’t want him to try and get away, but he’s terrified of me and I don’t like that.” F opened a door in the back corner of the room and rummaged around. “You understand that, right?”

Trouble whined again and twisted his wrists against the ropes.

“Did you see how he looked at me?” A rattling of chains accompanied F as he retraced his steps to Trouble. “He screamed, like I was a monster out of a nightmare.”

Trouble’s eyes went wide as he spotted the chain. He started to yank against the ropes on his arms in earnest, kicking against the ones on his ankles. He whimpered and shook his head, but F wasn’t looking.

“You wanna know what it made me think of?” F attached one end of the chain to a d-ring fixed to the floor a few feet from the couch. “When I first found this place, sometimes I would find animals caught in traps. If I found them because I heard them, they’d thrash and run, tryin’ to get away from me as much as tryin’ to get out of the trap.”

“Mmm?” Trouble’s heart raced as he watched F approach and kneel, the free end of the chain in one hand and a padlock in the other. “Mmmmmph!” He yelled into the muzzle, brushed it frantically against the chairback and his shoulder, desperate to get F’s attention.

“Yeah. I’ll take that off you, let me finish talkin’.” F frowned, his mind clearly far away as he wrapped the chain around Trouble’s ankle below where it was roped to the chair. “I helped those animals, you know? As much as I could. Some of them ran off before I could, and I hope they’re okay. Some were so small and so broken...”

Reblogging to update,

It is my plan to have to have this story posted by 8pm EST tomorrow, Friday June 14th.

If I'll stop my OCD about trying to make it perfect, the writing would go much faster lol.

[Leo, step back in my mind and allow essy-Mikey drive for a bit...please!]

It's a delicate thing putting a character I've literally dreamed of in the world for others to critique.

Ah, nerves.

Anyhow, wish me luck as I try to polish it up and get it done.

But, 1st pool, exercise, & sun, then writing! Mental health priorities!

Oh...and strangely enough my boss and co-workers ate interested in reading my books once I'm done...so random...so weird....but also encouraging.

Are you a monster lover?

Have I mentioned that I love Gajeel whump? Yes? Good.

"Damn beast nearly bit my arm off!"

"I'm surprised the legal guilds even allow monsters like that into their cities."

"Well if he's going to act like an animal, might as well treat him like one."

Whumptober 2023

Day 24

"A mouth full of ridicule."

(In which I am very mean to my favorite blorbo.)

Art by Essi Välimäki

@ft-platonicweek Day 4 - Silence

AO3

GET YOUR TISSUES READY, THIS IS SAD

They have only each other to rely on, to find comfort in.

CW: child abuse (mostly psychological, some physical), manipulation, dehumanization, disassociation, reliving past trauma, implied ableism, victim blaming, Jose is a piece of shit

Gajeel whump taglist: @heartonxions , @bambamnesiac , @grayseyebrowscar , @ostensiblyfunctional , @blackberry-bloody

“Easy for you t’say, he always goes easy on ya!”

“And Juvia is sorry about that, but we still cannot leave. There is nowhere for us to go!” 

“Fine! Then you stay! Clean his boots while yer at it! But I'm leavin’!”

Three days it's been since Juvia last saw Gajeel. Three days since their argument.

She'd thought she'd been doing the right thing, trying to convince him not to run away. He'd been angry, nerves frayed after a bad scolding from the master. Anger never made anyone think rationally. But she must have not explained that well since trying had only further aggravated his temper.

Perhaps her fear had also influenced her judgment. Gajeel had been so confident the two of them could make do on their own. Live off of the streets, in the woods like he had done before. Just them, no Master Jose, no rules, no punishments. He thought it'd be a good plan.

Juvia had said no.

The floorboards remained quiet as the girl ascended the staircase. She had long learned which spots would creak and stepped to avoid them. The chatter from the main hall offered somewhat of a cover, but she wasn't taking any chances. She didn't want to be discovered with a bowl clenched in her hands and lose the fresh fruit she swiped from the kitchen. Her friend would be hungry.

Master had given the guild a revised story, she was sure there were details missing or twisted out of context.

‘ “The little brat thought he could run off and neglect his responsibilities. Live in the woods again like some animal. Guess the cold was too much for him to handle, cause all I had to do was wait for him to come crawling back to accept the consequences.” ’

It had been cold that night, and Gajeel hated the cold. Which was why he'd been wearing that thick jacket and scarf when they talked. That should've been enough to keep him warm. If he had returned, as the master claimed, it would've never been for a reason so trivial. 

For as much as he hated the cold, Gajeel hated Master Jose even more.

‘ “I know he tried pressuring you to run away as well, Juvia. You did the right thing not listening, I'm very proud. But next time, you must come tell me. Understood?” ’

The revelation that their argument had been spied on, used as a means to punish, had dropped a rock into her stomach. Master Jose praising her should've made her feel good. No adult had ever told Juvia they were proud of her. It should've been good but instead it only made her feel sick. Master only wanted to use her against Gajeel. To hurt him. She would not do that. He was her friend. 

The door to his room stood tall before her. She raised a hand and gently rapped her knuckles against the wood. “Gajeel, may Juvia come in?” she whispered. 

It was enough for him to hear. Should've been enough. But only the silence met her. She knocked again, repeated her request for entry, just a tad louder. But no answer came, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in her gut while the Bad Thoughts wormed their way into her head.

Was he still mad at her?

Was he angry she didn't go with him?

Did he blame her for him getting caught?

The door thankfully wasn't locked, as she'd feared. The master often locked them in their rooms when they've been bad. Gajeel had a talent for picking them.

Juvia opened the door. 

The bedroom was darker than usual, and when she looked up, part of the window had been recently bricked up. Gajeel's jacket laid on the floor, ripped and torn beyond mending. The scarf tossed aside. His bed looked untouched, empty save for a familiar misshapen bundle of wrappings.

She took a step into the room. “Gajeel?”

Still nothing.

She would've thought the room was empty until a shape caught the edge of her peripheral vision. 

Her friend sat curled up far in the corner, scrunched into a tight ball. Knees clutched against his chest, face buried between them, hidden under unkempt hair. Bundled in a dark gray sweatshirt with the hood pulled up.

“Gajeel? Are you okay?” she asked, walking towards him.

He did not speak, didn't even move, made no sign that he acknowledged her presence. Juvia knelt down next to him. His chest rose and fell slightly, so he was still breathing. But as she listened, the more labored it sounded. Shaky. And even under the warm garment, his figure shook with faint tremors.

He didn't make a sound. Not when Juvia said his name again. Nothing to break the suffocating quiet.

A few times his stomach growled loudly and Juvia asked if he was hungry, told him she brought food. But still he didn't respond. She almost reached out to tap his shoulder but thought better of it.

‘Maybe he's asleep?’

The silence stretched. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twenty.

Until Juvia thought it might be best to leave. Perhaps Gajeel wanted to be alone, to not be bothered. She placed the bowl down on the floor and rose to her feet, making way to the door.

“...‘Via?”

The voice was so uncharacteristically small and hoarse. She turned around. 

Gajeel's head had lifted just enough for her to see his face.

He looked awful.

A strange ring of bruises dotted his jawline and the bridge of his nose a mottled purple. The scars she always remembered seeing him with looked newly inflamed, as if he'd been scratching at them too much again. Dark circles hung under vacant, bloodshot eyes.

Juvia had never seen Gajeel cry, but now there were telltale streaks of tears down his cheeks.

“What happened?” she couldn't help but ask, even though she already knew part of that answer. What had the master done to him for him to be like this?

Gajeel lowered his gaze again and shook his head. “How long were ya here?”

So he didn't notice when she came in. Did he just realize she was even there? “A little while. Juvia tried talking to you.”

“. . .Oh.”

He didn't elaborate, so neither did she. Though part of her was a bit relieved that he hadn't intentionally been ignoring her. He wasn't mad at her.

“Why were you crying?”

At that, he rubbed his face against the heel of his hand, erasing most of the tear tracks. “I wasn't.”

“Gajeel-”

“‘M fine.”

By the small trembles that shook his figure, Juvia could easily tell the lie. Whatever the master did, it was bad. Not even the cane ever reduced him to such a state. She sighed, defeated. He never did like talking when he got hurt. She tried not to take it personally, even though she always went to him whenever something troubled her. She trusted him to listen and he would. Was he too embarrassed? Did he not trust her? Did he not know he could trust her? Perhaps she should-

“How much did ya hear?”

“Hear? You were very quiet, Juvia didn't hear you say-”

“No, I mean, from when I was . . .not here.”

Oh, he must be referring to what everyone downstairs is saying about him. He could likely hear them from up here. “Master Jose told everyone that you ran away, and that he punished you when you returned.”

He buried his face into his arms again, curling his knees in a little tighter. Once more, the silence swallowed the room for a few minutes. 

“‘M sorry,” he eventually murmured. Before Juvia could question what for, he added, “for gettin’ mad at ya the other day.”

Their argument. She'd nearly forgotten. “Juvia is sorry too. She was scared, of things changing too quickly. She wasn't sure how to explain it at the time.” He seemed to understand that, something she would always be thankful for, someone who understood. As simple as that, they forgave each other. “The thought of being on our own to fend for ourselves is scary, but Juvia wishes things were better here. That people were nicer.”

“Yeah, me too. This dump is full of fuckin' assholes. Yer right though.” The sadness in his admittance worried her. “We can only trust ourselves, no one else. As shitty as this guild is, would any other place be different?”

That was something she hadn’t thought about. Had he planned to find another guild to join? She could see herself doing that, a smaller change that kept to the familiar. But Gajeel did make a good point. Would other guild's treat them any differently than Phantom Lord? No one except her appeared to bat an eye when someone left Master Jose's office with new bruises, so perhaps that was just a normal expectation. Would they even be accepted elsewhere? At least staying in Phantom meant the security of assurance, that they've already earned a place amidst the rankings. No matter the discipline and bullying, they were legal wizards with the various privileges that bought them under the law. 

“Juvia, do- do ya think I'm a monster?”

Her train of thought derailed. “What? No, of course not,” she replied immediately. Why was he asking that? He was human just like she was. Of course he wasn't a- 

Oh, Master Jose probably said something to him. 

“You're not a monster, Gajeel.” Another tear fell, and a cold wave swept through her body as she realized she couldn't tell if he believed her or not. “May Juvia hug you?”

The question clearly caught him off guard, if the surprise in his widened eyes was anything to go by. For the several long seconds he didn't say anything, Juvia almost expected him to refuse. He'd never been too keen on being touched. That's why she always made sure to ask or to let him initiate. But something told her at this moment that he needed to be held.

So when he leaned towards her, ever so slightly, it was all the acceptance she needed, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. A safe touch. He rested his head against hers. 

The two sat embraced in the silence for a long time. 

-

Three nights ago

Even before he climbed out of the window of his room, Gajeel was having second thoughts. By the time the edge of Oak Town was in sight, his heart was fighting him to turn back.

Juvia should be here with him.

They were the Freaks Club, they were supposed to stick together. They should both be going. Ditching Phantom Lord and Jose and taking back their freedom. They could do whatever they wanted, be whatever they wanted. No Jose to force them to fight each other, or lock them in their rooms, or deny them food, or beat them when they did something he didn't like. No obnoxious, creepy adults making fun of how they looked or spoke.

He knew how to survive. And the two of them had powerful magic to protect themselves. They could've made it work.

Why didn't Juvia want to leave?

Sure, Jose didn't hurt her as often as he did the dragon slayer, but she still hated being there, right? All the ridicule she got for causing the rain? For her unusual manner of talking? Did she not want to be rid of that?

With each step his feet felt heavier. Until they refused to go any further.

He didn't want to leave without her, the only person he was willing to consider a friend. He couldn't leave her behind with all those assholes. Couldn't stand the thought of being all alone on the streets again. 

Not after what happened last time.

Gajeel turned around. 

If he returned quickly enough, maybe no one would notice his absence. Juvia wouldn't snitch on him, even if she was mad. It hadn't been that long since he left, Jose wouldn't know.

No one else would know. He would go back. He and Juvia would talk. He would apologize for snapping at her even though he hated saying sorry. Or maybe make her something with one of those recipes she gave him. They'd figure out something else.

No one else would know.

The bushes surrounding the guild hall were easy to hide in. It wasn't like a grand castle, guarded with an array of waiting archers or a moat filled with giant crocodiles. Just a simple building with stone walls that were no trouble for the iron dragon slayer to climb.

The window to his room stood dark up above. He could hear no noise coming from within. Good. That meant his escape wasn't discovered yet. He still had time.

A hope that got dashed about ten feet from the opening, when his nose caught a scent.

‘Fuck!’

He didn't get the chance to think of a new plan. To retreat back down and wait for them to leave. To think of some story to give that may save him. Because the stone beneath him liquefied.

There's not many words that can adequately describe the viscosity of dry rock. Unnatural can be one. Mud and clay at least had moisture to them. Lava was its own thing. Magic was the only thing that could make solid rock look wet and act wet but not actually be wet.

It's not a pleasant feeling having it snatch your body like a giant hand.

Gajeel yelped in alarm as a tendril of stone burst from the wall, seizing his torso and limbs like a constricting snake. Squeezing tight. Allowing no room for resistance against the threat of crushed bones. It didn't even give him a moment to breathe before bolting up, shoving the captured dragon slayer through the window and onto the floor of his own room. But even then, it did not release him yet.

The end of the tendril reshaped, reforming into a body, a face, brown suit, green hair, that stupid monocle.

“Tiens tiens, seems I've caught quite the naughty petit renard, haven't I?”

“Sol, ya creep! Get off me!”

His protests get cut off, for a light suddenly filled the room, revealing two other men. Master Jose stood in the center, face neutral but eyes glaring. Behind him, Aria stood by the door, his wide frame a blockade.

In his mind, Gajeel cursed every god he didn't believe in.

“Care to explain what you were doing out of your room?” the master began interrogating. 

“I-” Fuck, he didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought of a cover story. No need for one if you didn’t mean to return. “I was… just takin’ a walk. I couldn't sleep.”

“A walk, is that so? After curfew, when you are strictly forbidden to leave?”

If he can hide that he almost tried to skip town, maybe he can get away with just being punished for breaking curfew. It's not like he's never done that before. “I wanted some air. It's stuffy as hell in here.” Sure, Jose will lock him in some dark, tiny closet somewhere for a day or so, but he can handle that.

“You seem to have this false belief that my rules only exist when you deem them convenient,” the man said, disappointed but not surprised by Gajeel's insolence. He should be used to it by now. “This defiance of yours is getting out of hand. Curfews are important for safety and maintaining order. Keep breaking them and I will find new ways to keep you inside.” Probably a couple days in the closet. He'll be fine. “That would've been the case if you were not lying to me.”

How-?

“I ain't lyi-”

Gajeel's iron scales were durable. He could brush off hits that downed most people. Metallicana made him spend hours honing his defenses until a strike no longer hurt, no longer did damage. His normal human skin retained a bit of that resilience, but not to the same degree. 

Which is why Jose made sure to wear rings whenever he slapped him. The backhand whipped his head to the side and the room spun. The rings left harsh scratches across his cheek, not deep enough to break skin but definitely enough to sting.

“Sol, why don't you show him?”

“Bien sûr, Master.”

Still reeling from the slap, helpless to do anything but watch, Gajeel sat frozen as the stone walls morphed. Twisted and sculpted themselves into new shapes, figures, a boy with long hair and anger in his face, a girl with a furred hat looking worried. Familiar faces. A scene copying a memory not even two hours old.

And voices.

“We don't have t'stay, Juvia! We shouldn't have t'put up with their shit. We can leave and start over somewhere else.”

Incriminating voices. A perfect replica.

“The earth remembers all, petit renard.”

Gajeel's mouth felt full of lead. Nothing to say. What could he say?

Jose spoke instead. “Sol heard everything about your little runaway fantasy. Shame on you for trying to force Juvia into your scheme.”

“Miss Lockser is a respectable young lady. Polite and dutiful.” Aria sang praises Gajeel knows mean nothing. If they actually gave a shit, all the bastards who harassed her would actually face consequences. “You are a terrible influence on her.”

‘You fuckin' know nothin’. Ya only think that cause she stands up fer herself now.'

“I know all about your little nightly excursions too, the many times you sneak down to my kitchen to steal food,” Jose added. Gajeel's blood ran cold. “Is that what you thought you'd do upon running away? Stealing from people again? Did you learn nothing from the last time that got you in trouble? It's only thanks to my generosity that you're in a guild and not a prison.”

Something snapped, sending all thoughts of pretending out the door. How dare Jose bring up that memory. “Fuck you! Like yer any better! Generous my ass, y’all treat me like shit! The scraps ya give me ain't ever enough.”

“Not this again,” Jose shook his head. “Lying to make excuses for selfishness will not work.”

“And taking such foul language with the master is a big non non,” Sol added, like he did every single time he heard Gajeel swear. “Where I come from, children would have a bar of soap shoved into their mouths for talking like that.”

It was so damn frustrating. Gajeel knew he wasn't lying. Everyone seemed to believe he could just eat scrap metal and be fine but it wasn't enough. He needed real food too, but the tiny portions he was allowed always left his stomach gnawing for more. Hunger became a constant pain that refused to go away. Jose never believed him.

“I've been patient enough to tolerate those grievances, but this disrespect has crossed a line.” Jose moved his arms to his front. Gajeel expected to see the thick discipline cane the man kept in his office, hung looming on the wall. It was a tool he utilized often. 

But when Gajeel saw what Jose had actually been holding, he wished it'd been the former. The blazing pyre of anger extinguished, smothered by the icy grip of dread. “Why… do you have that?”

This was not supposed to happen. Jose wasn't supposed to have that thing. He wasn't supposed to be like those other people. 

“I have used various methods of disciplining you, and if tonight has shown me anything, it's that those have proved ineffective. Perhaps this will get the lesson through. Aria.”

Gajeel didn’t pay attention to what the air mage did. His vision had tunneled in on the item in Jose's hands. Not that. Anything but that. 

Sol held fast until the sharp scales snaking over the boy's skin - tearing the warm fabric of the jacket - forced him to retreat. Gajeel managed one step before Jose's shadows snatched him instead. They did not falter as he writhed, kicked, pleaded for them to stop, for them to not put him in that awful thing.

But then Aria raised his arm, fingers dancing across a magic circle, and the air was sucked out of his chest.

When his eyes opened next, it was cold. And he was no longer in his room.

Stone walls, a lashing wind, and the inky black of night beyond. 

He was in the Sky Prison.

With the stiff leather straps of a fucking muzzle enclosed around his face.

No.

No no nO NO NOT AGAIN!

He lurched up, a panicked roar muffled to almost nothing. His balance nearly faltered but his mind wasn't there enough to register the absence of his leg prosthetic. Jaws sealed shut. He tried to claw at it, shred it to pieces, but he could not pull his hands free of the freezing shackles bolted to the floor behind him. Could not call his magic to protect himself.

And with those two simple tools, his mind transported him elsewhere. A dark and grimy jail cell. These same restraints stealing any agency he had. The phantom pains of bleeding gashes cutting across his back and arms, placed by a sharp belt buckle. A nightmare taking shape. A memory returning to haunt.

History repeating itself.

It was cold yet sweat formed on his neck. His ears rang with his own pounding heart. He heaved down breaths of air through his nose because he couldn't open his mouth, he couldn't breathe, the muzzle wasn't even around his neck but somehow something must be choking him because it's hard to breathe. Why can't he breathe? The cold air is stinging his lungs but it must be a lie because there is no air, he isn't breathing, his throat is closed, he can't get the muzzle off, he can't breathe. 

“Control yourself, Gajeel. You're acting like a rabid dog.”

Jose and Aria stood a few strides away. The lingering residue of the air mage's magic still hung in the surrounding space.

‘Take it off!’ Gajeel tried to yell through the muzzle, but anything that came out was unintelligible. He let the sound ground him back to reality. Made him aware of the air that was in fact moving in and out with the rise and fall of his chest. Or was that just the shivering? His jacket, scarf, and boots were left behind and the short sleeved shirt he wore was not a suitable wind buffer. 

“It’s saddening that I have to do this, but your behavior has left me little choice,” Jose chastised, ignoring the protests of his charge. “You will be spending time up here until you prove to me you've learned your lesson.”

“Tis truly tragic, trapping one of our own up in this prison, but it is the only way you'll learn.” Aria's tears soaked his mask, Gajeel always doubted if they were genuine. 

“These are the consequences of disobedience, Gajeel. You've only yourself to blame. I've sheltered you, kept you fed, protected you from the Bureau, and look how ungrateful you are. You should know there's not many people willing to put up with an animal like you as I've had.”

‘I'm not an animal I'm not an animal I'm NOT an animal!’

“What did you expect to happen once you left? Did you think you'd find people who'd want to help you? People more patient and generous than me? You'd sooner find yourself on display in a zoo.”

It couldn't be true. There had to be some who would see he's still human despite everything. People who wouldn't care about the scales on his face and shoulders, the pointed ears, the sharp fangs and claws. 

Jose had to be wrong. He had to be.

“You remember Nerium, don't you?”

At that name, the boy flinched. How could he not? He could only dream of forgetting that horrible place. Where all this began. He had learned its name months after leaving, while learning the language of this country, for the sole purpose of remembering never to step foot there again. 

“You remember how they treated you. They saw your draconic physicality and thought you a monster, a demon. Normal humans don't have scales or fangs. They don't growl at things they don't like or eat metal. Magic is not supposed to change a body like that. You're an anomaly, and most people do not like anomalies that aren't under control.

“That's why I brought you here. Unlike many, I can see you for what you can become. A strong wizard. One whose name can become synonymous with the strongest guild, the prestigious Phantom Lord. People won't dare to disrespect you then, no matter what they think about you. They will fear our retribution too much to even think of crossing you.

“But that only happens if you're under control. Under me, your master. Leave and there will be no one to protect you. And the only treatment you can expect is chains and a muzzle just like that. Or perhaps they'll hand you to the Bureau to be turned into a science experiment, just as those in Nerium planned. So consider this lesson a sneak peek into the so-called freedom you wish for.”

Gajeel didn’t notice the tears running down his face until he saw droplets falling to the floor. He turned away, wiping them off against his knee.

He didn't want it to be true.

But he noticed how people looked at him. At his bizarre appearance and mannerisms. The glares and raised voices whenever he got too angry, whenever he looked like he lied because he didn't like making eye contact, whenever he overheard a conversation he shouldn't have because tuning out the noise was so hard.

The people of Nerium had called a demon slayer to deal with him, as if he were a pest to exterminate. And she'd nearly done it. Turned back not due to him being a terrified child but only because he wasn't her chosen quarry. 

And the Bureau again. The town's plan b before Jose showed up.

Is that really all that he is to people, some wild monster? Something to be chained and caged? Would-

Would Juvia be in danger traveling with him? If not from him, then by the people who hunt him? Would they see her being friends with a monster and think she's one too?

Gajeel turned back and the two men were gone, transported back to the Oak Town hall with Aria's magic.

All alone.

Left to his thoughts and tears in the cold, cruel silence. 

Gajeel hated the silence, so he tried to fill it.

If it weren't for the muzzle, anyone within proximity to the tower would've heard the young teen screaming himself hoarse. Thrashing in his bindings until one shoulder dislocated. Carving grooves into the stone beneath him until his claws broke. But the biting winds drowned him, sapped at energy until they forced him to the floor, curled into a crumpled heap. Trying to stifle a sob.

No one could hear him. They wouldn't help even if they did.

-

Now.

Gajeel had sat beaten and bloody in Nerium’s jailhouse for less than a day before the master of Phantom Lord arrived to collect him.

Jose forced him to endure the Sky Prison for three.

The shoulder that'd been dislocated protested the pressure, but he didn't tell Juvia.

Hugs, he decided, were okay, but only if it was her. The thought of anyone seeing him so pitiful made his skin crawl, but at least he knew Juvia wouldn't judge. Wouldn't think him weak. He could think about this and not think about how humiliating it was begging the master to be released, with desperate apologies for running away.

He would not think about that.

He would not think about how he'd spent the last couple hours crying in his room, ignoring his parched throat and pleading stomach because he was too damn scared to walk down and face the other guild members. 

He can hear them gossiping. Laughing about the ‘little dragon brat’ who tried to run. Who ran right on back because he couldn't handle it, even though that wasn't why he returned at all. Who got what he deserved. Several theories were flying on how he was punished and while none were accurate, they made his ears burn.

He couldn't go down there. They'd be on him like a pack of hunting dogs with an injured fox.

Gods he was hungry.

He didn't know when Juvia entered the room. Those past hours felt like a blur, an emptiness. The pain dulling to a consistent buzz and then numbness. He didn't remember when the tears began falling, didn't even notice they had until Juvia pointed it out. 

What was wrong with him? He usually noticed things like that.

He pulled away from Juvia, stretching out his arms and legs to get some feeling back into them. Then took in the state of his room.

The window had been altered. It had already been only barely wide enough for him to squeeze through. But now the middle was filled in, bricked up and blocked, leaving only two small holes letting in minimal light. 

No more escaping. 

Aside from that, the rest of his space appeared untouched. The cloth he used to bind his chest still lay bundled at the foot of his bed. He's glad he took it off before venturing out, thinking he'd find a better one on the road. It probably would've been bad if he'd worn it the entire time in the tower.

His boots and prosthetic sat on the floor. Bracing with a hand on the wall, Gajeel slowly rose, his left leg sore but holding his weight. Following his eyes and seeing where he intended to go, Juvia stood up as well to offer assistance. Too tired to even use his magic, he accepted it.

He just wanted to lie down.

He collapsed onto the mattress as soon as they were close enough, nuzzling into the soft fabrics. His stomach growled, the emptiness like a monster's claws hacking at his insides.

“Are you hungry? Juvia brought some food.”

His ears perked up. “Ya did?”

She walked back to the corner they'd been sitting and picked up a bowl that'd gone past his notice. Several cut fruit, including a few orange slices.

The memories of getting sick from eating too much after periods of going hungry were all that stopped him from wolfing down the bowl by the handful. Juvia risked punishment by sneaking that up. He wouldn't let them go to waste. If she noticed the dried blood on his fingers, or the ripped up state of his nails, or the scabbed abrasions and dark bruises encircling his wrists, she didn't point it out. 

"Did you? Did you actually run?" Juvia eventually asked. Gajeel paused, then nodded, hoping she could catch the regret in his expression. "But you came back, and Master Jose caught you?" 

He can still see the man's face, that cruel smile haunting his mind whenever he thought about that night. He hoped the bastard dies slowly and rots in the deepest hells. Gajeel nodded again, and mentally prayed to be spared having to explain how he'd been punished as a result. 

For once the heavens listened, for the next question Juvia presents is, "why did you come back?"

'Cause I didn't wanna be alone.'

"Cause I didn't wanna leave ya behind.” It wasn't even a lie. “If I left, ya wouldn't have anyone else fer the Freaks Club.”

And now he could never leave again. But maybe that was for the best if it wouldn't be worth it.

Deceitful

@whumpuary AO3

Prompt 1

Captivity | Snow

Prompt 8

Muffled screams

CW: captivity, slave whump, left out in the cold, nonhuman whumpee, lady whumper, restraints, muzzles, slapping

The Champion taglist: @emmettverse , @ostensiblyfunctional , @scoundrelwithboba

It wasn't usual for the Cerulean Crescent to receive snowfall, but on occasion there'd be a winter where the temperatures drop low enough.

When you're located higher up in altitude - like Master Scarlet's manor, rested on the mountainside overlooking the valley below - the likelihood increases.

The Champion assumed the view would be appealing to those with a taste for luxury. At least when it wasn't obstructed by the darkness of night and the drowning haze of a snowstorm. He guessed many would find a more clear daytime view a pleasing sight, like a painting in a museum.

He himself never saw the appeal.

He never did like the cold.

Snow was cruelly deceitful. From afar the crystalline flakes looked harmless, coating the outside world in what many compare to a pristine, white fluffy blanket.

Another gust of bitter wind rattled his bones, and the Champion tried and failed again to pull his trembling limbs against his core in effort to keep warm. The thin silks draped over his body provided little protection.

Snow crystals were more akin to tiny knives if you asked him. Their gelid touch searing his toes where he stood. He spent several minutes earlier trying to clear away all the snow beneath his feet, but the shackles at his ankles didn't grant him much room.

He had messed up again.

Master had a guest over, some rich businessman dressed with the money he'd leached from his workers and customers. His jewelry by itself would probably pay for several bets for the Champion’s ring matches. The fabrics had so many ostentatious colors the tiefling had a hard time telling which garment was which.

Master had ordered him to serve the two. So he relayed refreshments back and forth from the servant tending the bar and the servant arriving from the kitchen. Of course, he wasn't permitted to touch any of the food or drinks, not even with his stomach gnawing in protest. The Champion’s only purpose there was to obey, be silent, and look pretty.

It certainly wasn't pretty when he tripped over the edge of the rug and sent two full glasses of red wine spilling onto the man's expensive outfit.

A desperate apology was halfway past his lips when a backhand struck him across the face. Rings painted red onto his cheek. Pain rang in his ears, dulling the sound of the man's furious yelling.

Master said not a word, but closed the distance between them before the Champion could recover. One hand waved and a spell lifted the stains from her guest's clothes. After calling for a servant to come assist the man, her other hand snatched her pet by his horns and began dragging him towards the balcony.

He knew by now that resisting would make things worse.

It hadn't been his first time on the outdoor space. When it was warm out, and when he was being well behaved, Master would allow him to accompany her outside. But tonight the cold was wet and unforgiving and the Champion was to be punished.

Master must've planned for this at some point. There were already metal chains bolted to the brick exterior wall waiting for him.

Their frigid bite snapped right to the bone.

How long has it been since she left him there? Hours? It definitely felt like it. The lashing winds seemed endless and the Champion stood unable to shield himself. The chains forced his limbs apart and all he could do was press his fingers into his palms, press his raised arms against his ears, and curl his tail around his waist. Granting meager solace to vulnerable extremities from the icy curtains raining down.

It didn't help much.

He wished he could scream. He'd already tried. Tried to call to his master and plead to be spared further torment from the elements. But it was no use with the muzzle. Master had strapped it to his face right before heading back to the heated comfort of the indoors. All his cries were muffled before they ever had a chance to echo off the mountainside.

He kept his eyes squeezed shut, afraid that the stinging gales would freeze any tears to his face. That's likely why he didn’t notice Master approach until she was snapping her fingers to get the tiefling’s attention.

He didn't understand how the frozen night wasn't bothering her.

The shackles released him, letting him fall into the snow when his feet were too numb to support his body. The wet sapped at fleeting body heat but he was too cold and too tired to do anything but shiver where he laid.

“Well?” Master’s voice rang clear above him, unfazed and apathetic. “Do you wish to return inside or not?”

Oh. So she was expecting him to drag himself back this time.

At least forcing himself to crawl across the balcony brought some feeling back into his hands.

The blissful embrace of the fireplace's warmth was only slightly dampened by Master making him apologize to the man for the spilled wine.

It was dampened far more when, instead of allowing him to curl up on the hearth, to chase away the chills trapped against his skin, she ordered him to the couch to lie in her lap.

The Champion hated how easily he submitted to it. Even more than the snow.