[whumpuary 2024] andré & océane » it wouldn't do either of us any good
Story: RPG Storyverse (vaguely canon-adjacent I think?)
Genre: an attempt at whump?
Rating: 18+
Characters: André & Avien & fool_with_dream's Océane
Challenge: Whumpuary 2024
Prompt: "Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling
CN: Kidnapping & captivity; blood; implied torture & description of wounds including cuts, bruises, bitemarks, welts; kneeling; begging; nudity (but no sex, physical intimacy or noncon/assault); verbal abuse & insults; hair pulling; fight & freeze trauma reponses; dissociation; unfair punishment; implied blood pact; enabler!husband x serialkiller!wife (they both highkey make my blood boil)
Author's Note: Painful little scene set a short while after Avien turned Océane into a revenant and decided to keep the beast around as her messed-up version of a lapdog :’) I'M SORRYYYYY, the excellent prompts made me do it (enjoy <3)
»Help me.«
Océane is kneeling in the foyer, staining the polished-to-perfection marble with blood seeping out of fresh wounds. Judging by the traces she left across the floor - not that big of an amount, barely noticeable to the untrained human eye, but impossible to miss for André -, she must have dragged herself here on her hands and knees all the way from the basement.
No wonder walking is not an option - the soles of her feet look all cut up, like she recently walked through a bunch of really sharp stones, or maybe broken glass. Whatever it was, it must have been some new method Avien thought of to make running away even less of an appealing idea. And those are not her only wounds, either. Her shoulders and legs are covered in raised red welts, many of them darkening around the edges, forming bruises below the surface; the skin is broken and bloody in some places, especially along the back of the thighs. Her neck, chest and arms, on the other hand, are covered in deep, blood-encrusted bitemarks and cuts, and André would bet that if she were to spread her legs, allowing him an even more intimate look than the one he already gets with her kneeling naked in front of him, there would be all kinds of marks visible across her inner thighs, too.
The smell of her blood is strange, he thinks. It's sweet and tempting and human at first, but once when paying closer attention, there's clearly a foul note to it, too; like overripe fruit starting to go bad, trying to mask its rot with the sweetest stench. He briefly wonders if it smells like that to other vampires, too, or if it's just because he's particularly attuned to Avien's dark magic, the very magic that is pulsing through the girl's veins and keeping her alive despite death's best efforts to drag her into the afterlife. The genuine edge of despair in Océane's expression and the acute urgency in her voice soon distract him from this train of thought, though.
»André, I need your help. I …« She shrugs and shakes her head. »I don't know, I think the beast took over. I'm not sure how I got out.« She speaks so hastily she keeps stumbling over the words, her voice shaky and weak all throughout. »But I- … God, I will be in so much trouble. I can't go back. I can't take any more of this. Please.«
Her big blue eyes stare at him, pleading and accusing at the same time, and André feels like he would rather die right this instant than say what he is about to say, but he just doesn’t get to have that option anymore; he made his choice quite some time ago, and now his loyalty has been written in blood irreversibly.
»I will come look after you later, when she's done«, he promises. »I can help you manage the pain, make sure there's no lasting damage. I will. As soon as possible. But right now, I can't help you.« He can't bear to look her in the eyes as he shakes his head.
Océane's face falls. »No«, she whispers, her gaze still fixed on him, now filled with straight-up disbelief.
André swallows hard. »It wouldn't do either of us any good if I tried.« It's not a real justification, he's well aware; nothing could ever possibly justify the things he has watched without interfering, or even actively enabled, since he first met Avien. But maybe it's an attempt at an explanation. A first glimpse into the why and how. The girl deserves that much, at least.
Her voice is so quiet he almost doesn't hear it when she speaks again: »You can't send me back.«
»Océane, I-«
»You can't let her get me«, she interrupts. »Please. You don't understand.« She gestures towards her bloody wounds as if maybe he just hadn't noticed yet. »Look at me. Look at my body. She will …«
Suddenly, she pauses, her eyes widen, and that's when he sees the realization hit her: He understands. He knows. He might not participate, but he does let it happen. All of it. He does help Avien cover it all up, does protect her from the consequences of her terrible actions instead of truly helping her victims.
The sound of approaching footsteps from the nearby stairway snaps both of them out of that moment of horrifying clarity and back into the here and now. Océane's panicked gaze darts around, looking for something, anything, but in the end, she knows that if André won't help her, she has nowhere to go. Her body is much too weak to go any further on her own, let alone try and fight her way out.
»Where's my new plaything hiding?« The lilting sound of Avien's voice is traveling up the stairs, echoing between the cold stone walls. »Where has the ungrateful brat run off to, hmmm?«
André doesn’t move, doesn't say anything, and neither does Océane. They just stare at each other in paralyzed silence until finally, Avien reaches the top of the stairs and turns to look down the corridor that leads her straight toward the foyer.
»Ah.« She chuckles. »Not hiding at all, I see. Trying to charm your way out of here? Make my own husband feel sorry for you and protect you from me, all because you're too weak to fight and too stupid to find a good place to hide, let alone an escape route?« She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. »Poor thing. So dumb and helpless even this much pain is not enough of a motivator for you to do anything right.«
As she walks towards them, André notices that Avien's gait is slightly off, and it doesn't take him long to spot the stab wounds: One in her thigh and one between the ribs, right where her heart would be if she still had one. They're closing up already, healing much faster than wounds on a human body, but the blood is still there, its scent now mixing in with Océane's.
A cruel smile plays on Avien's lips as she stops merely an arm's length away and looks at the weakened girl kneeling at her feet. There's an unusually affectionate expression in her red-tinted eyes, though; if André didn't know any better, he'd almost say it looks like … a hint of love shining through.
»She's a fierce one, isn't she?« Her fingers find their way into Océane's messy blonde curls, grabbing near the scalp to give a harsh yank that makes the girl yelp. »Up«, Avien commands, »or I will drag you by the hair. All the way back to your cell, if I have to.«
Océane fails to react in time, probably too sluggish from the exhaustion, too lightheaded from the blood loss, too overstimulated from the pain; so Avien makes good on her threat, and a heart-breakingly soft whimper fills the air. »No, please … I’ll get up and walk, I promise. I’ll behave. Just stop hurting me, I can't-«
»You stupid little bitch«, Avien hisses, stopping in her tracks to dart a scorching gaze at her latest creation. »You stabbed me. You ran away. And now you asked my husband to help you escape, didn't you?« The room falls eerily silent for a long moment before a brief, joyless laugh escapes her lips. »That's what I thought. No way that was ever going to happen, darling. He's mine, and, quite unlike you, he is very well-behaved.« Her gaze flickers towards André for a second, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, hinting at the semblance of a smile. It disappears as abruptly as it came when she turns back towards Océane. »Did you think I would let all of that go unpunished? Did you really think this was over?«
»I didn't- … That wasn't-« The words get stuck in Océane's throat, drowning in an unstoppable trembling of her lip.
That wasn't me. It was the beast you trapped inside my body yourself. The beast neither of us have managed to get under control so far, and not for lack of trying.
André knows exactly what she wanted to say, and for all he knows, so does Avien, but the words stay unspoken, a truth hanging heavy in the air, hopeless and futile, because it wouldn't have mattered anyway; it will never truly matter.
Océane's eyes overflow with tears all of a sudden, but she doesn't seem to care, doesn't even seem to notice. She closes her mouth, abandons whatever words she initially wanted to speak in her defense. Silently stands up instead, without flinching, despite her wounded feet, and starts walking, following Avien, who is still pulling her along by the hair, even though she is now following the initial command. It's almost like she doesn't feel the pain anymore, like it's not just her body that has given in for now; after what just happened, her mind has, too.
By now, André has seen this shift in demeanor often enough to know what it means. Sometimes, it happens in an instant like it just did with Océane, though more commonly, it creeps in slowly over time. It usually happens when their pain threshold is crossed and they realize that this isn't fair, it never will be, and no one is coming to save them and make it stop. Either they faint entirely at some point, or at least their mind grants them a gracious break from being connected to reality. They leave themselves behind and disappear into nothingness for a while, only their wrecked bodies remaining in the here and now, like broken, soulless dolls.
It means they will get what they asked for: Avien will leave them alone for a while. She will lock them up until they're fully present again because to her, they're no fun to play with when their senses are so dulled, their reactions so monotone, their expressions so empty. She always gives them a break once they reach this state … just to hurt them even more once they're back, though. To make up for the lost time, as she likes to say.
»Thank you for catching her, my love.« Avien's voice sounds unusually cheerful, and the sugary sweet smile she throws André's way, along with one last glance over her shoulder, gives him goosebumps all over.
I didn't, he wants to say, to defend himself from this unspeakable accusation, free himself from the burden of complicity he knows will be weighing on his mind forever. But he doesn't manage to choke it out before Avien and her new favorite pet disappear behind the basement door again. So he just stands there, knowing it would have been a lie anyway. In a way, he did catch her. Did aid in keeping her captive. He does every day he doesn't actively work to help her escape.
In that moment, as he stares at the traces of both Avien's and Océane's blood on the floor, he knows without a doubt that this will come back to haunt him one day, on a scale much bigger than he can yet imagine. And for Océane's sake, at least, if not the entire world's, he truly hopes that day will come sooner rather than later.
Genre: an attempt at whump?
Rating: 18+
Characters: André & Avien & fool_with_dream's Océane
Challenge: Whumpuary 2024
Prompt: "Help me" / Lightheaded / Kneeling
CN: Kidnapping & captivity; blood; implied torture & description of wounds including cuts, bruises, bitemarks, welts; kneeling; begging; nudity (but no sex, physical intimacy or noncon/assault); verbal abuse & insults; hair pulling; fight & freeze trauma reponses; dissociation; unfair punishment; implied blood pact; enabler!husband x serialkiller!wife (they both highkey make my blood boil)
Author's Note: Painful little scene set a short while after Avien turned Océane into a revenant and decided to keep the beast around as her messed-up version of a lapdog :’) I'M SORRYYYYY, the excellent prompts made me do it (enjoy <3)
»Help me.«
Océane is kneeling in the foyer, staining the polished-to-perfection marble with blood seeping out of fresh wounds. Judging by the traces she left across the floor - not that big of an amount, barely noticeable to the untrained human eye, but impossible to miss for André -, she must have dragged herself here on her hands and knees all the way from the basement.
No wonder walking is not an option - the soles of her feet look all cut up, like she recently walked through a bunch of really sharp stones, or maybe broken glass. Whatever it was, it must have been some new method Avien thought of to make running away even less of an appealing idea. And those are not her only wounds, either. Her shoulders and legs are covered in raised red welts, many of them darkening around the edges, forming bruises below the surface; the skin is broken and bloody in some places, especially along the back of the thighs. Her neck, chest and arms, on the other hand, are covered in deep, blood-encrusted bitemarks and cuts, and André would bet that if she were to spread her legs, allowing him an even more intimate look than the one he already gets with her kneeling naked in front of him, there would be all kinds of marks visible across her inner thighs, too.
The smell of her blood is strange, he thinks. It's sweet and tempting and human at first, but once when paying closer attention, there's clearly a foul note to it, too; like overripe fruit starting to go bad, trying to mask its rot with the sweetest stench. He briefly wonders if it smells like that to other vampires, too, or if it's just because he's particularly attuned to Avien's dark magic, the very magic that is pulsing through the girl's veins and keeping her alive despite death's best efforts to drag her into the afterlife. The genuine edge of despair in Océane's expression and the acute urgency in her voice soon distract him from this train of thought, though.
»André, I need your help. I …« She shrugs and shakes her head. »I don't know, I think the beast took over. I'm not sure how I got out.« She speaks so hastily she keeps stumbling over the words, her voice shaky and weak all throughout. »But I- … God, I will be in so much trouble. I can't go back. I can't take any more of this. Please.«
Her big blue eyes stare at him, pleading and accusing at the same time, and André feels like he would rather die right this instant than say what he is about to say, but he just doesn’t get to have that option anymore; he made his choice quite some time ago, and now his loyalty has been written in blood irreversibly.
»I will come look after you later, when she's done«, he promises. »I can help you manage the pain, make sure there's no lasting damage. I will. As soon as possible. But right now, I can't help you.« He can't bear to look her in the eyes as he shakes his head.
Océane's face falls. »No«, she whispers, her gaze still fixed on him, now filled with straight-up disbelief.
André swallows hard. »It wouldn't do either of us any good if I tried.« It's not a real justification, he's well aware; nothing could ever possibly justify the things he has watched without interfering, or even actively enabled, since he first met Avien. But maybe it's an attempt at an explanation. A first glimpse into the why and how. The girl deserves that much, at least.
Her voice is so quiet he almost doesn't hear it when she speaks again: »You can't send me back.«
»Océane, I-«
»You can't let her get me«, she interrupts. »Please. You don't understand.« She gestures towards her bloody wounds as if maybe he just hadn't noticed yet. »Look at me. Look at my body. She will …«
Suddenly, she pauses, her eyes widen, and that's when he sees the realization hit her: He understands. He knows. He might not participate, but he does let it happen. All of it. He does help Avien cover it all up, does protect her from the consequences of her terrible actions instead of truly helping her victims.
The sound of approaching footsteps from the nearby stairway snaps both of them out of that moment of horrifying clarity and back into the here and now. Océane's panicked gaze darts around, looking for something, anything, but in the end, she knows that if André won't help her, she has nowhere to go. Her body is much too weak to go any further on her own, let alone try and fight her way out.
»Where's my new plaything hiding?« The lilting sound of Avien's voice is traveling up the stairs, echoing between the cold stone walls. »Where has the ungrateful brat run off to, hmmm?«
André doesn’t move, doesn't say anything, and neither does Océane. They just stare at each other in paralyzed silence until finally, Avien reaches the top of the stairs and turns to look down the corridor that leads her straight toward the foyer.
»Ah.« She chuckles. »Not hiding at all, I see. Trying to charm your way out of here? Make my own husband feel sorry for you and protect you from me, all because you're too weak to fight and too stupid to find a good place to hide, let alone an escape route?« She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. »Poor thing. So dumb and helpless even this much pain is not enough of a motivator for you to do anything right.«
As she walks towards them, André notices that Avien's gait is slightly off, and it doesn't take him long to spot the stab wounds: One in her thigh and one between the ribs, right where her heart would be if she still had one. They're closing up already, healing much faster than wounds on a human body, but the blood is still there, its scent now mixing in with Océane's.
A cruel smile plays on Avien's lips as she stops merely an arm's length away and looks at the weakened girl kneeling at her feet. There's an unusually affectionate expression in her red-tinted eyes, though; if André didn't know any better, he'd almost say it looks like … a hint of love shining through.
»She's a fierce one, isn't she?« Her fingers find their way into Océane's messy blonde curls, grabbing near the scalp to give a harsh yank that makes the girl yelp. »Up«, Avien commands, »or I will drag you by the hair. All the way back to your cell, if I have to.«
Océane fails to react in time, probably too sluggish from the exhaustion, too lightheaded from the blood loss, too overstimulated from the pain; so Avien makes good on her threat, and a heart-breakingly soft whimper fills the air. »No, please … I’ll get up and walk, I promise. I’ll behave. Just stop hurting me, I can't-«
»You stupid little bitch«, Avien hisses, stopping in her tracks to dart a scorching gaze at her latest creation. »You stabbed me. You ran away. And now you asked my husband to help you escape, didn't you?« The room falls eerily silent for a long moment before a brief, joyless laugh escapes her lips. »That's what I thought. No way that was ever going to happen, darling. He's mine, and, quite unlike you, he is very well-behaved.« Her gaze flickers towards André for a second, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, hinting at the semblance of a smile. It disappears as abruptly as it came when she turns back towards Océane. »Did you think I would let all of that go unpunished? Did you really think this was over?«
»I didn't- … That wasn't-« The words get stuck in Océane's throat, drowning in an unstoppable trembling of her lip.
That wasn't me. It was the beast you trapped inside my body yourself. The beast neither of us have managed to get under control so far, and not for lack of trying.
André knows exactly what she wanted to say, and for all he knows, so does Avien, but the words stay unspoken, a truth hanging heavy in the air, hopeless and futile, because it wouldn't have mattered anyway; it will never truly matter.
Océane's eyes overflow with tears all of a sudden, but she doesn't seem to care, doesn't even seem to notice. She closes her mouth, abandons whatever words she initially wanted to speak in her defense. Silently stands up instead, without flinching, despite her wounded feet, and starts walking, following Avien, who is still pulling her along by the hair, even though she is now following the initial command. It's almost like she doesn't feel the pain anymore, like it's not just her body that has given in for now; after what just happened, her mind has, too.
By now, André has seen this shift in demeanor often enough to know what it means. Sometimes, it happens in an instant like it just did with Océane, though more commonly, it creeps in slowly over time. It usually happens when their pain threshold is crossed and they realize that this isn't fair, it never will be, and no one is coming to save them and make it stop. Either they faint entirely at some point, or at least their mind grants them a gracious break from being connected to reality. They leave themselves behind and disappear into nothingness for a while, only their wrecked bodies remaining in the here and now, like broken, soulless dolls.
It means they will get what they asked for: Avien will leave them alone for a while. She will lock them up until they're fully present again because to her, they're no fun to play with when their senses are so dulled, their reactions so monotone, their expressions so empty. She always gives them a break once they reach this state … just to hurt them even more once they're back, though. To make up for the lost time, as she likes to say.
»Thank you for catching her, my love.« Avien's voice sounds unusually cheerful, and the sugary sweet smile she throws André's way, along with one last glance over her shoulder, gives him goosebumps all over.
I didn't, he wants to say, to defend himself from this unspeakable accusation, free himself from the burden of complicity he knows will be weighing on his mind forever. But he doesn't manage to choke it out before Avien and her new favorite pet disappear behind the basement door again. So he just stands there, knowing it would have been a lie anyway. In a way, he did catch her. Did aid in keeping her captive. He does every day he doesn't actively work to help her escape.
In that moment, as he stares at the traces of both Avien's and Océane's blood on the floor, he knows without a doubt that this will come back to haunt him one day, on a scale much bigger than he can yet imagine. And for Océane's sake, at least, if not the entire world's, he truly hopes that day will come sooner rather than later.