#otis oc

[bugisbonkerz]

otis getting hurt by eliza ❤️

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP - Chaos

Masterlist

Might delete this later!

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, institutionalized slavery, romantic whumpee, conditioned whumpees, multiple whumpees, drugging mention, abuse mention, dubcon mention

——————

“Hi.”

Joey almost didn’t hear him, ear pressed to the speaker of her radio, but she saw him. Wesley was tall and lanky, something hard to miss when he was standing right in front of you.

For a moment she wondered where Graham was, always two steps behind, but realized he was more than likely still in bed. Wesley liked to sneak out alone in the early hours of the morning.

Picking up her head and resting it in the palm of her hand, she strung up a smile. She was ever so good at pretending those. “Hello.” She lightened her voice, bubbly as her ma’am would have liked it.

He didn’t seem comfortable with that. “Can I… can I sit? Please?”

“Yes.” The rest of the sentence - whatever you like - was left unsaid, yet still there in a way, like he knew she’s gritting it back. It was probably sat right there in his throat too, waiting to be set free.

He knelt in the chair, knees bumping on the wood, sat uncomfortably. She was never like that herself, her ma’am always kind enough to allow her on the furniture, but she recalled Florence doing the same.

“Do you always listen to the radio?”

“Kind of.” She said, with a nod. “A lot of the time.”

Nicely Wesley flashed a smile, a pet smile, crooking his head in her direction. “You change the- the um… the station a lot. Why?”

“I’m just…,” biting her lip she turned away, “just looking for something.”

“What is it?” He pressed, resting his chin on his arms, crossed over the table. He seemed interested, curiosity painted over his expression. An innocent curiosity, not stemming from a rotting place of malice.

“My lady.”

“Oh.” He said, rolling that around in his head for a moment, before nodding. He refrained from looking her in the eye. “I- I kind of thought that.” Wesley paused for a moment, his lack of social skills obviously not preparing him for what to continue with. “Do you think you’ll find her?”

Tipping her head, she shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Do you want to?”

“I’d rather not answer that.” She wasn’t so sure she had a satisfactory answer, or any answer at all. Definitely not one that could be put into words.

He bit at his lip, fingers curling into fists.“Sorry. Sorry.”

“You’re fine.”

“I don’t know if I want to see my sir again.” He said, quick and nearly a mumble, working his jaw.

“Mm.”

“I miss him… a lot. A lot, a lot. I think.” Gaze glazing over, Wesley had a little glint in his eye that made him look as if he was about to cry. “Do you think he would hate me now? If he knew I let you guys take me away and… and make me this?”

“I dunno.”

“I… hope he wouldn’t. I don’t like it when sir is mad at me.” Then he sounded like a child, one wishing their parent would not be angry with them instead of a human pet with a sir.

“I don’t think any pet wants their owner mad at them.” Joey’s smile was gone then, dropped in favor of the circumstances. “My ma’am… she got scary when she was angry. Violent.”

He lit up, almost with a strange excitement. “My sir, um, he made me lick his shoes once.” Giggling at his own words, it was out of place, but she was not unnerved.

“My lady liked to force me to eat until I threw up. Like cake and stuff. I hate cake.”

“My sir,” he was chuckling just thinking about it, “he’d give me this medicine that made me feel all weird and sleepy, and then dress me up funny. I can’t remember anything after that.”

Swallowing, she curled his hand into hers, remembering what Isaac had always done. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Wesley. You didn’t deserve any of that.” She thought maybe it was something he needed to hear

He was surprised by that. “But- but it’s funny… I was bad. I didn’t mean to-,” his lip trembled as he paused, holding himself back. She tightened her grip on his hand, and he copied her in return.

As he blinked back tears she said, “It’s okay, you can cry.” And he did just that, choking little hiccupy cries, practiced to be quiet.

A moment later, “Wesley?” Graham called, words shaky, rushing out from their room until he found his companion. Soon enough, he switched to Joey. “Why is he- what did you do?”

“We were just talking, Graham.” She said, as calm as she possibly could with a beast baring his teeth at her.

He didn’t believe her, not one bit, lips curling into a snarl. “Did you- have you hurt him? Is he hurt? What did you do?”

Wesley stood to his feet, reaching out a hand in his best attempt to calm Graham down. “She- she didn’t-,”

“Hey-!” He picked her up by the armpits, pinning her to the wall. “I didn’t-!”

“Tell me what you did!” He shrieked this time, Joey blinking as bits of spittle splattered onto her scrunched expression.

“Calm the fuck down!”

“What’s going on?” Florence entered the scene then - Otis hanging back behind the doorway - rushing in in pajamas, eyes falling wide as they settled on the fuss. “Get off’a her!”

Wesley looked between the group, fear clearly stuffing up his face. “Please don’t- he’s just confused-!”

“Don’t touch him!” Graham snarled at Joey, blinded by aggression, shoving Florence away and allowing her to slump to the floor.

”Don’t fucking touch her!” Florence, a good deal smaller than Graham, continued to stand his ground as the newer rescue let a growl rumble from his throat.

The front door slammed shut, bags of groceries disregarded swift to the countertop. “Hey, hey, hey! What are you people doing?” Isaac threw herself between them, both Florence and Graham backing away.

Joey bit her lip, rubbing at her shoulder. Florence and Graham were staring daggers at one another. Otis looked on the verge of tears.

“I was,” Wesley started, brushing away at his tear stained cheeks, “with J- Joey, and Graham thought she hurt me ‘cause I was crying, and-,”

“Yeah, and he fucking attacked her!” Florence threw his hands in the air, yelling.

“Hey! Wesley’s speaking, please show him some respect-,”

Isaac made a mistake. A grave one at that, palm clamping right over her mouth with a hitch of breath.

All five rescues dropped to the floor, all in the same position, each rigid and stone cold as they pressed their foreheads to the wood. Sucking in a breath, each rescue rushing through the horrors in their head, the air fell silent.

Hey, pet. You think you’re all that ‘cause my momma liked you? Do us all a favor and give me my rightful respect.

Don’t you dare ever speak to me that way, dog. You’re a fucking animal that needs to learn the basics of respect.

You don’t want to, Princey? Really? And when have I, or really anyone for that matter, ever cared what you wanted? I think you should show some respect.

You’re just a dirty mutt with rocks for brains, and I’m sure you’re aware. Do you want to go back in the dog house, or are you ready to learn to respect?

I’ve given you everything you could ever ask for, Buttons. All these sweets, a home, a name, and that is what I get? Show some fucking respect.

“God fucking dammit.”

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @scoundrelwithboba

@whumped-by-glitter @whumpering-heights @arlin-always-writing @bilightningwhumper @sharkyydoesnothing

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[whumpsoda]

We Search For Stolen Personhood - A Hard Day

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioned whumpees, collar, whumper turned whumpee, sick whumpee, recovering whumpee

——————

Blowing dark, bouncing curls out from his line of sight, Florence sighed, shifting around in his bed to study the wooden planks that held up the top bunk. As expected there wasn’t exactly much to really see, but at least an hour had passed of simply struggling to sleep, and he was less interested in thinking. 

In remembering.

Sometimes - and he knew Isaac would disagree but occasionally he didn’t much care for what Isaac thought -  it proved bad for him to think. And that’s where it got confusing because Florence also knew now that it was bad to think that it was bad to think, but a good amount of time in his case thinking hurt, and it always hurt even before the safehouse, and if he thought too hard it would hurt so bad-

Shutting his eyes tight he sipped in a breath and held it, mind calming blank and empty. The whole day for him had been spent either falling in and out of consciousness, or down a rabbit hole of trying not to think but inevitably doing so. He needed to quiet his mind to silence, even if for only a second.

Maybe… just for a minute.

After a moment he released the air in his lungs, carefully sitting up in his bed for the first time that day. A pair of plaid pajamas were still draped around his body, a reminder of how good a spot he was in now. A spot he didn’t deserve, and never would. He knew well that fluffy pajamas were a luxury for him.

Striding to the closet he dug behind his neatly folded pile of clothes, bringing up an old memory he wasn’t supposed to have. Florence shook it off.

Stopping as his fingers brushed leather, he swallowed.

There.

He spit a shaky breath as he strapped the collar around his throat, eyes shifting to the door and lingering there, just waiting for someone to walk in and catch him. Secretly he hoped someone would, just so he’d have something else to beat himself up about.

Kneeling down, just as he would before Mr. Franklin and Mistress Charlotte, he curled his hands in his lap. Closing his eyes tight, he sat silently. Like he would when no one needed him, when he had no duties to fulfill.

He itched at the numbers tattooed across his arm. In his mind, when he was a pet, he couldn’t be a handler.

As soon as it had began, it was over. Gracefully he took it off, setting it back into place where no one would find it. He took one more deep, filling breath, shaking the nerves out from his hands, and turned to the door.

The path toward the living room proved oddly difficult, Florence constantly debating whether he really should, or shouldn’t, even when he knew the correct answer. He would take a step to the door, then two steps back, then one step forward. Like he always did. 

Eventually he made his way out though, to find the television on as a distraction for the other rescues as all of the real adults made their ways about the kitchen.

Atop the couch were all the pets sitting huddled together - and by all of them there were only two because the newest ones were surely not ready to venture out just yet - with Calvin by their side. Like some babysitter. He didn’t know why that irked him, why stinging heat rose from his chest, but it did. 

“Oh, hello dear.” Edith greeted with a weak, half smile as he made his way into the kitchen. The lines of her face were deeper that day, telling him all he needed to know about how the new pets were doing.

“Can I do something to help? Anything?” Florence met her expression, exhaustion scrawled across her face. “I’ve been slacking off today.” He laughed a little, sheepishly, playing it off like a joke. He knew they took it better that way, even if everyone - including him - was well aware he wasn’t really kidding.

Edith never laughed back. She only patted his shoulder with a solemn smile. “How about you just join the others on the couch. You’ve had a hard day.”

Belly tensing, Florence bit his lip. 

A hard day.

As if. While everyone else was probably taking care of chores and the new rescues, worrying about him even, he was sleeping the day away with the pathetic excuse of his mind. 

“I…  please? I need to.” Jaw working, his expression hardened. It was always odd to be pleading to have a task to do, when that had previously been his whole life. “I have to. I’ll do anything.”

“Alright then. Would you mind taking this to Isaac? She’s with the newest pair.” Her cheeks smushed her eyes as she smiled, wearily but kind as always. “And then you can join the others with their movie.”

Florence gladly took the medecine bottle from her. “Yes, ma’am.” He said, again, humorously but not. 

Edith playfully rolled her eyes, but he could practically hear the way it flipped to concern as he walked off.

“Florence!” Isaac whisper-exclaimed, eyes widening as he entered the blue room.

“Isaac!” He parroted, playing up the fake surprise as he jokingly mocked her. She huffed a soft laugh, taking the bottle from him before turning back to the task at hand. 

She was sat beside what looked to be a large roll of blankets, which he soon found to be one of the newest pets. He was curled up in a ball of disease, whimpering with affliction.

Putting on the same tone Edith always did, calm and soothing, Florence kneeled beside Isaac and the pet on the floor. “Hi there.” 

Gradually opening his squinting eyes, the pet growled, a low and animalistic whine, a mixture of anger and pain. Hugging his stuffed animal tighter he shifted away, shielding himself, back tapping against the frame of the bed.

For a moment Florence saw this pet as so many different ones, an array of them keeled over for so many different reasons. The root of it always him.

One of them he remembered well, floating to the surface among the others. With bright, skittering eyes and gritted teeth they had fought so well, screaming, biting, and kicking so desperately before he’d beaten them down until they broke. 

All of it with a smile.

A flicker of hot, a quick flash of white, digging his nails into the flesh of his arms as his two rows of teeth ground over one another. Florence swallowed, hard, taking in a shaky breath to stabilize himself. Isaac gently placed her hand over his.

Sticking his arms to his side as he stood to his feet, his gaze lifted with him, meeting that of another. The other pet, he realized, almost forgetting there were two. 

This one stared back, eyes wide and glimmering in the light of the doorway. He sat, tucked into a corner between the bed and dresser, wound in on himself. He held his head low, almost purposefully, hiding his face with his overgrown bangs. 

Florence could see himself in him, clear as day. He was the same when he’d first entered the safe house, holed up under his bed and not speaking a word. Most of the time he wished he could go back to then, when he knew how to keep quiet and do as he was told. When he didn’t know who he was, what he could be, or who he had been.

So he waved. Just a little one, catching the pet’s eye. And he waved back.

He gave a grin before he turned to leave, the pet digging his head further into his knees, and hiding his flushed face.

Flopping onto the couch, Florence fell right between Joey and Otis with a grunt. “Hey.”

“Hello.” Joey greeted, the pair turning to meet his gaze as he slumped down. After a moment she plopped back beside him, resting her head to his shoulder.

Otis cocked their head. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

“Were you sick too?” Calvin asked, an innocent look of concern. Sometimes - well, most of the time - Calvin just didn’t get it. Sometimes he’d be plainly, annoyingly clueless, and Florence couldn’t help but grit his teeth.

“Nope.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the screen as he snickered. One of Otis’ favorite movies played, one they always chose when it was their turn to pick a film. No one ever complained about having to watch it over and over again. They’d always said it was a comfort movie for them back from before. “It’s a pet thing. You wouldn’t really get it.”

“O- oh. Sorry.” Calvin mumbled sheepishly, a half baked smile rising on his face, burning guilt in Florence’s belly.

Why was he always such an unnecessary dick? It only revealed his past peeking it’s way through, displaying the asshole in him wasn’t really gone. Just living on beneath Florence, rearing his ugly head whenever he felt fit. Maybe that’s why he was trained to keep his stupid fucking mouth shut.

It was definitely better that way.

——————

Masterlist

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @starfields08000 @bitchaknso @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[whumpsoda]

WSFSP Picrews!!! :D

Masterlist

These are just rough designs, so they may change :]

Wesley!!!

22 years old

he/him

romantic designation

Graham!!! (This picrew doesn’t have any other body options so keep in mind he is much for muscular and pudgier :]

21 Years old

he/him

Guard dog designation

Isaac!!!

27 years old

she/they

Worked at the safe house for around three years

Oscar!!!

51 years old

he/him

co-owner of the safe house!

Edith’s husband

Edith!!!

53 years old

she/her

co-owner of the safe house!

Oscar’s wife

Josephine!!! (Again, no other body options :/ she’s also a good bit pudgy)

25 years old

she/they

companion designation

Florence!!!

24 years old

he/him

domestic designation

Otis!!!

24 years old

they/them

domestic/companion designation

Agnes!!!

27 years old

she/her

romantic designation