#telepath whump

[pigeonwhumps]

Small Spaces

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Phoenix tries out being in a small space to prepare for their next mission. It doesn't go too well.

1.6k

CWs: claustrophobia, panic attack, flashbacks, past abuse, past child abuse, telepath whump, mentions of human trafficking, emeto, begging

"So I go through the vent and Santhiya will be there to help me down, right?"

"Yep," confirms Kai. "She'll remove the cover from that side and be ready for you to bring the explosives inside. Once Lian and I have cleared the compound and transferred the data, we blow it all to kingdom come."

"Fucking finally," growls Santhiya, and Morfydd nods fiercely. Phoenix is yet to encounter this particular group of traffickers, but they know that Santhiya was instrumental in helping rescue some of their victims from a burning building before she was even officially part of the team. This is personal, especially for her, and Phoenix isn't about to let everyone down. Even if it is a very small space.

It feels weird, actually planning for explosions. For Phoenix at least they're usually on-the-spot things, to get them out of tight spaces. They don't usually involve so much planning.

Although Phoenix may have, admittedly, enjoyed liaising with engineering on the explosives a little too much.

"Earth to Phoenix. Ready to see if you'll fit in the vent?"

Phoenix nods, looking at the long rectangular cardboard tube that's been put together on the living room floor. It's the size of the vent, and it's so small that their chest goes tight just looking at it. It's about the same size as the cupboard in their old team's quarters.

This isn't a good time to try this out. Not after seeing them again, bringing all the memories back. They haven't slept properly since, and that always makes things worse. But it needs to be done.

They take a deep breath and drop to their knees in front of the makeshift vent.

It's not that long. It'll take a few minutes at most. It's okay, they'll be fine.

Phoenix crawls into the tube. It's small, far too small, their skin feels like there's bugs skittering over it, but there's a light at the end and they focus on that. It's light and it's not going away any time soon, no-one's going to take it away as punishment, it'll be fine.

The light dims, and they rub their wrists, sleeves suddenly feeling too tight and far too cold. The light's not gone, it's dimmed, Indigo's not here to take it away, but everything's too hot and too small and it's closing in on them.

Phoenix blinks and they're shivering, freezing cold, the only light moonlight passing through a tiny crack in the wooden planks, and in the morning Alicia will patch up their knees and they'll go to school still freezing inside, and no-one will notice because this is just normal, why would anyone notice? By tomorrow evening everything will be healed and back to normal, but for now they're stuck here, in the dark and cold with the old wood creaking, trees rustling, chest tight and twisted up, unable to breathe properly, the suffocating walls closing in around them.

Phoenix blinks again and they're back in the pitch-black cupboard, insides burning, wrists in cold metal, their breathing's picking up and the walls are closing in and they don't know how long they're going to be punished for, they could die in here with walls like that.

"Please." They don't know who they're begging when there's no-one who'll listen but they do anyway. "Please, let me out. I'm sorry. Please."

_

Kai frowns as Phoenix comes to a halt partway through the cardboard tube. They were making their way through steadily and then they just... stopped.

"Are they okay in there?" he asks Lian, who's down the other end. He peers into the tube with a frown.

"They look fine, but... they're just not moving."

"Give them a couple of minutes. It's only cardboard, but–"

Kai's interrupted by Santhiya throwing up on the carpet. When she looks up, wiping her mouth, her face is chalk-white, eyes red-rimmed and urgent.

"Get them out of there," she croaks. Kai gets up but Morfydd's already moving, tearing apart the cardboard with intense concentration.

Phoenix is huddled up, arms around their legs, head in their knees. Shaking harder than Kai's seen in a while.

Kai glances at Morfydd, who nods, and crouches down in front of Phoenix.

"Hey. I'm gonna pick you up now, nice and easy, that's it, arms around me." He speaks lowly, pulling Phoenix's unresisting arms around his neck and lifting them up against him. They're still far too light, and drenched in sweat. "Let's get you sat down, yeah? Easy does it. You're safe, Phoenix."

"I'm sorry, sir," murmurs Phoenix, mind somewhere else entirely, "I've learned my lesson."

Kai stiffens slightly, then forces himself to relax, sitting on the sofa with Phoenix on his lap, their head buried in his neck. He rubs their back.

"Shh. Easy, you're safe."

Morfydd drapes a blanket over Phoenix's shoulders and Kai looks over at them as they sit on the sofa arm beside him.

"Cheers. How's Santhiya doing?"

"Not too well. Lian's looking after her."

"I'll leave him to it then."

Morfydd reaches up a hand and rests it on Phoenix's arm. "They were begging. I don't think it was loud enough for anyone else to hear, but... do you know who it was?"

"They called me sir when I picked them up, and there's only three people I've ever heard them call that," replies Kai grimly. "The other members of their former team."

"Fuck," breathes Morfydd.

"Yeah."

"Will it be too much for them if I stay? I know it is for Santhiya, but I need to help someone. I can't just sit by while my friends... well."

"No, you can stay. They trust you. I'm going to turn into a wolf, see if that helps. It does sometimes. Stay though."

Morfydd nods. "What about the mission?"

"Well, we've got over a fortnight until the next shipment goes out. That should be enough time to calm Phoenix down and complete the mission. And I was thinking maybe Santhiya could take Phoenix with her? We'd have to test the weight though. I don't know. But they can't go through the vent."

"No." Morfydd holds Phoenix gently as Kai transforms and curls around them. Phoenix, still mostly out of it, snuggles into Kai's fur, burying themself in it. "They really do like it. You're okay, Phoenix. You're safe."

_

Once Phoenix is out of the cardboard tube, Lian takes Santhiya by the arm and leads her over to the opposite sofa. Morfydd arrives soon after with a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate, draping the blanket over her shoulders. Santhiya holds it in a white-knuckled grip, the other hand lifting the mug to her mouth, absently taking a sip. She looks awful, haunted, ill, in a way that Lian's rarely seen.

"Santhiya?"

"They're so scared," she says quietly, almost in a monotone. "So scared. Their mind was screaming. I haven't had my defences falter so badly in a long time, since... well, you know... but they smashed through them all. They're so scared. So much. It's them I've been hearing at night sometimes, I recognise it now. The fear, the pain... how do they stand it?" She blinks, eyes bright with unshed tears. "How do they stand it all?"

"That's a question only Phoenix can answer," says Lian. "Along with some others." He rubs Santhiya's back and she sways slightly, looking at Lian with more focus. "How are you feeling now? Any quieter?"

"A little. Still making me nauseous."

"Hey, Kai, are you and Phoenix going to stay here a while?" he asks, not looking away from Santhiya.

Kai gives an affirmative yip.

"Okay. I'm taking Santhiya somewhere quieter." He helps Santhiya to stand, blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, and puts his arm around her waist to hold her steady. "Let's go to your room, come on."

Santhiya nods, putting one foot in front of the other until they reach her bedroom, Lian sitting down with her on the edge of the bed.

"Better?"

"Yeah. I can think again now." The colour's slowly coming back into her cheeks, and she drums her fingers on Lian's leg. "I think... maybe I should've guessed it was them, waking me, after what happened last week. They told you, right?"

"About bumping into their team downstairs? Yeah. No wonder they're getting nightmares strong enough to break through your defences. I mean, only Kai knows what actually happened with their team, but it was clearly bad. Kai wouldn't have spent so much time away if it wasn't."

Santhiya snorts wetly. "I think 'bad' is an understatement. Their reaction... I never want to see them that small again."

Lian nods, handing his friend a tissue. "How are you, though? How's your head?"

"Sore. Fuzzy. Phoenix's mind was a lot. I can still hear their screams."

"Let's get you some painkillers then. Do you want me to stay?"

Santhiya nods, swallowing the pills. "I need a distraction. And I want to try building up my defences more. Not right now, but... later. That sounds bad. I just... it's too much."

Lian shakes his head. "It's not bad, Santh. You shouldn't have to hear people in distress when you're not prepared for it, even if they're your friends. We can certainly work on that."

"It doesn't seem right. I can hear people's worst thoughts but I can't do anything to help. It's not fair."

Lian sighs. He's heard many variations on those words in his time mentoring Santhiya. "One person can't do everything. Just knowing people are in trouble, telling us that, that can be enough. Besides, with Phoenix specifically, your presence as their friend is enough to help."

"But they're so– so hurt. How can just my presence help so much? It doesn't seem right. They can't be that fond of me."

"They are. Believe me, Santh, I've seen the way they look at you. They really, really are."

[darkwhump]

A telepathic whumpee is locked up deep in the dungeons. Long before they can hear steps coming closer through the door of their cell, they feel the guard's joyful anticipation of their abuse.

[wildfaewhump]

Reading about your Paths reminded me of a telepath I traumatized in a story a few years back! Magic of all sorts is normal in his setting but ofc telepaths are valued because of their ability to tell what's going on inside other people's heads. A noble snatched him up and attempted to use him a la the Path Verse but he has literally no control over whose thoughts he hears (everyone's) and he was ultimately regarded as a waste of time, so they tossed him out onto the streets. and now I'm thinking about what if they still thought he was worth keeping around, just a PITA to get anything useful out of, and he had to be rescued ohoho anyways he was a side character but I love him

Meet Ezol!!

omg what a cutie!!!! 🥺 I bet being on the streets wasn't easy for him either, what with him hearing everyone's thoughts 😭

👀👉👈 do you perhaps have a link to a write with him I could read? for Reasons such as I Want To See Him Cry

[wildfaewhump]

"It's not your fault." For Siena :)

cw: mind control, dubcon touch and (cheek) kiss

"It's not your fault."

Axel shrugs, a tight, controlled movement of one shoulder. Her doubt is, as ever, tightly corralled, kept to herself where it won't affect those around her.

Siena sees. She sees what Ezra doesn't, she knows what dear Ferny misses because Axel is so careful not to touch them.

"It's not," she repeats, laying her hand over Axel's. The rush of guiltdiscomfortworryguilt is familiar, easier to sort the more she exposes herself to it. She presses gently.

"We couldn't take them to the hospital," Axel blurts, when Siena's invisible urging tips her over the edge into confession. "What if he missed something, that doctor? What if we did, afterwards? What if there was damage that he didn't catch, or we did something later to make it worse-"

"Ssh, hey, listen." Siena grabs Axel's other hand and squeezes them together. "There was no way you could have known Fern wouldn't think to wear a sweater, or come inside once they got cold. You have to give them the opportunity to take care of themself. This is a learning opportunity, that's all."

Upstairs, the fever brought on by Fern's cold shower and subsequent hours spent damp-haired outside in the chilly autumn evening after Siena locked them out runs its course. She needed a break from Ferny. How else was she supposed to focus on her girlfriend? Siena smiles and sends a tendril of gratitude through her palms into Axel's.

"Thanks," Axel sighs after a moment. "I just worry for them, you know that."

"I know. You should worry about yourself a little more."

That gets her a smile. "Yeah, maybe."

Siena tsks and leans in to kiss Axel's cheek. "Yes, Siena," she corrects. The thrill of hearing the words repeated back is warmer than the kiss.

[wildfaewhump]

brontide for the word prompt thing? (definition is "low rumble of distant thunder")

brontide (n.) - the low rumble of distant thunder

thank you for the prompt, anon!!

cw: memory loss, mind reading

"Ferny," Siena's voice filters warm and too bright through the door. It's summer sunshine, casting its glow across everything it touches, gilding edges gold and then wilted brown. "Open up, sweetie, it's time to work on your memories again."

Fern shoves the book they were reading under their pillow and sits up. 

"Can we, would it be okay if we did it later?" they call back, tugging nervously at their sleeves. 

They like what they picked today, leggings under a soft long tunic in a lavender so pale it's barely a color at all, more like a cloud than a flower, with thumb holes in the wrists for if they want to put their fingers out but still want the extra protection of sleeves over their palms. Siena's been busy with Axel lately, and Fern thinks they feel... clearer. Steadier. It's hard to tell, since their memory blurs everything into one hazy smear, but they think-- they hope that how they feel now is better than before. There’s a paper in their nightstand which they read every night. They don’t remember writing it, usually, until they read the memory of themself doing so, but when they do it comes back for as long as they hold the paper. 

Siena lies. 

"Don't you want to get better?" Siena opens the door and crosses the room to perch on the end of the bed.

Fern draws their legs up, folding into a cross-legged tangle and tucking their hands under their ankles. "I, I do, I do want that, I just--"

"Well then let's get to it!" Siena tosses her hair over her shoulder with another too-bright smile. "Hands, Ferny."

Their hands are out, palm-up, before they remember why the command spurs such instinctive, immediate obedience. Siena's fingers close over their own, and with them her shields, and Fern's spark of outrage is smothered by blank grey.

"Let's take a look at that first recognition again," Siena's thought-tone prompts. 

She pauses, tugging the glimpse of the book cover they left under their pillow into better clarity. 

“Oh, Ferny. A book on repressed memories, isn’t that a little dense for you? You don’t need that book, you have me.” 

Fern can’t hide their thoughts from her. The second-hand bookstore, their hesitant query to the clerk, and Ezra’s enthusiastic support loses its warm tinge under the too-bright glare of Siena’s amusement. The memory wilts into faded shame until Siena at last releases it and returns to her original purpose. 

The yielding, rubbery texture of their cubby surrounds them, then peels away to the feel of cold steel soaking through their thin scrubs and cold, bony fingers digging into pressure points along their skull.

"This one..."

Siena shouldn't be here, it's wrong, it's not how it happened, but they can't push her out. Fern can't get to this memory without her, they can't find it behind the haze and the drifting, obscuring uncertainty, but they don't want her here when they do get to it, poking and commenting and tainting what should be theirs with her presence.

"This one knew what he was doing." Unwillingly, Fern's memory focuses on the feel of the Path's fingers on their skin. Shields, different than Siena's, press against memory-Fern's mind. Shields on shields on shields, walls slamming shut around Fern, around memory-Fern, around another Fern behind all the others.

Fern trembles. They can't tell which fear is coursing up and down their spine, which lungs are tight with anxiety, theirs or memory-Fern's or both. They can barely breathe. Something feels like it's spinning, maybe the floor or the walls or Fern themself.

Pain spikes through their skull. Siena's breaking something open. She takes her time, pinning them into stillness as surely as the padded restraints held memory-Fern. Tears paint their cheeks, doubled against memory-Fern's older pain. Fern sobs, writhing uselessly against the feeling of things splitting, old scars they don't remember getting tearing open across their mind. Siena's touch lingers, drawing pain out of them with fixated, attentive care.

Something's breaking open. 

Siena's breaking something. 

Fern feels their chest hitch, terrified. Something's breaking and they can feel a certainty deeper in their bones than memory has ever reached that once it breaks it won't go back.

Something's breaking, and behind it something waits.

"Please," they whisper, perhaps. Their lips are numb. 

She doesn’t hear them, or doesn’t care. They can feel, as her shields start to slip a little, how much their hurt fascinates her. She’s not doing this to help them. 

“Stop, please...” the words drop like stones to the table, the bed, the floor. 

Something’s breaking, something’s coming, and Siena doesn’t care. Their head feels like it’s peeling apart, exposing everything inside to raw, open air, and Siena’s too engrossed in the feeling of it to see what’s coming. 

Something breaks, and Fern wails.

Something shatters, and Siena screams. 

The thunderclap of something jolting into place breaks Fern’s consciousness under them, and they fall.