Thanks for the ask! Ventis can have some heat exhaustion as a treat <3
⋆⋄✧⋄⋆
Ventis just needs to sit. Just for a moment.
Sure, there's a battle ongoing, but he's out of spell slots so he's not much help at this point anyway. Besides, their attackers have been thinned out enough that Shayah can probably take the rest on her own.
And he really needs to sit down.
Ventis stumbles his way over to the nearest tree, its trunk thick and canopy spread so dense and wide that it feels significantly cooler already as he sinks to his knees, one hand braced on the bark and the other pressed to his throbbing temple.
Gods, his head pounds. It was easy to ignore at first, when he was still part of this fight, but now it's relentless. He blinks hard, trying to rid himself of the black spots invading his vision. His arm shakes, then gives out, and he slumps shoulder-first against the tree.
"Ventis?"
Ventis can't even bring himself to look up, his head heavy and lolling towards his chest.
"Ventis! Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
It's Onthyes, kneeling by Ventis and looking him over, holding his hands out as if ready for him to collapse fully.
"Fine," Ventis whispers, but it isn't convincing with how his voice slurs through it.
There's a thwip, and an arrow embeds itself in the tree just an arms length from Ventis's head. Onthyes crowds in closer to him and raises his shield.
"You're not fine. What happened?"
"Just tired," Ventis mutters, his eyes starting to drift closed. "Lemme rest for a sec."
"Not here." Onthyes looks around, then lowers his shield and scoops Ventis into his arms in one easy motion.
Ventis groans in protest. Everything spins when Onthyes stands. "Put me down," he whines.
"Sorry, sorry." Beads of sweat roll down the side of Onthyes's face. He must be hot too, in this weather and his full plate armor.
He breaks into a jog, stealing Ventis away from the sounds of the battle. "What about—"
"Shayah can handle it."
He puts Ventis down again, laying him on the grass in the shade of a rocky outcropping. The grass tickles the nape of his neck and his ankles.
Onthyes brushes Ventis's hair from his forehead and curses under his breath. He's burning up, skin hot and damp with sweat.
He fumbles for the waterskin at his hip with one hand, the other steadying Ventis's head. His grip is too tight, and he forces himself to ease it.
"You're okay," he says.
Onthyes splashes water onto his glove and presses it to Ventis's forehead, then his neck. Ventis cringes, a soft hiss slipping through his fanged teeth. Still conscious, but barely.
"Don't go to sleep," he murmurs, his voice low. He cradles the back of Ventis's head and tips some water between his lips. "C'mon, drink. That's it."
Ventis manages to swallow. His eyes slit open, unfocused.
"It's hot," he breathes.
"I know. I know." Onthyes glances up at the sky; not a single cloud, the sun beating down relentlessly. Even in his armor he's used to the heat, to being outside for so long. He'd forgotten that Ventis definitely isn't. "You pushed too hard. You should've backed out sooner."
Ventis scoffs weakly. "You need me."
Onthyes forces a smile, dripping some more water into Ventis's mouth. "We need you alive. No more of this."
Ventis just hums, lifting his head slightly to swallow and then letting it thump back down into Onthyes's hand.
Onthyes puts down his water and settles into the grass beside Ventis, reaching for his wrist to feel his pulse. It's weak and too fast, but still there.
I’ve been lowkey ignoring him recently, but I worked really hard on this drawing (even though I don’t like it very much but that’s the devil!), so here it is! My favorite wet cat of a man! ( @whumperofworlds called him that like two years ago and I have not let it go)
♡ Febuwhump 2025 Day 5: Not Trusting Reality ♡
This is a topic that (canon) Ventis really struggled with after he got sober, so I couldn't resist the urge to whump him about it.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Even after surviving through the nightspill withdrawals, the hallucinations never really went away like he'd hoped they would. Ventis has Onthyes, of course, to let him know what’s real and what’s not, but it gets frustrating, knowing that the answer could be anyone’s guess.
Waterfalls traveling upwards until they dissipate into clouds? Real. Shadows moving and gesturing on their own? Not real. Trees whispering secrets Ventis is sure he hasn’t told anyone? Real. Distant piano music with no discernable source? Not real.
And Ventis is well aware that Onthyes doesn’t mind telling him every time he doubts something. But it’s getting annoying, needing to rely on his friend to tell him what’s real.
So, Ventis stops asking.
He tells himself that it’s just an experiment - just for a little while. He won’t rely on Onthyes to tell him what’s real. He’ll trust his own instincts. Sure, after all this time, he must have developed some kind of sense for it, right?
The test goes well enough at first. The sky turns a deep shade of violet and the clouds begin to spiral like whirlpools, but Ventis doesn’t react. A fox with far too many eyes stops short in the middle of the path and stares at him, and he confidently walks through it. Flowers sing an eerie song as they pass, and although Ventis’s skin crawls he refuses to ask Onthyes if he hears it too.
Then, he sees the bridge.
It’s a simple wooden thing, grown over with vines and flowers but otherwise intact, arching over a narrow ravine. Onthyes has busied himself with his pack, not paying attention as Ventis approaches the bridge.
Ventis looks at it. Tilts his head. Watches a butterfly land on the wooden surface.
It must be real, right?
Steeling himself, Ventis commits to his answer. He steps onto the bridge-
“Ventis, wait!”
And he falls, yelping as his foot passes through nothing. He barely has time to process the awful, stomach dropping sensation of falling before he collides with a rock, pain exploding through his ribs. He rolls off of it, hits a gnarled tree root back-first, then finally skids to a stop at the bottom.
“Ventis!”
He can hear Onthyes picking his way down the ravine carefully as he curls into himself, groaning. Every breath burns through his ribs, every movement making pain radiate out from his spine.
“Don’t move! I’m coming!”
Ventis squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his forehead into the damp ground below. His breath shudders painfully.
Ventis about to run into danger, but Onthyes just picks him up like a feral cat and goes, "Nope!" and casually takes him to safety while Ventis hisses at him
You’re absolutely right that’s 100% something that would happen, and it’s a wonderful image.
Ventis would fight back, of course, and I’m not sure if it’s more than he /cant/ actually hurt Onthyes or he /won’t/ actually hurt Onthyes. Either way he can’t help but get sparky when he’s worked up, but Onthyes can handle more than a few little shocks.
Ventis just squirming and demanding, “Put me down put me down put me down put me down,” and Onthyes: “Sorry sorry sorry I know I’m sorry Please stop hitting me.”
The whole thing makes me giggle thank you very much.
Tags: hurt/comfort, whump, dub-con, non-con, drug addiction + withdrawal, trafficking, romance, explicit sex, soulmates, nsfw, emotional manipulation, (somewhat) complicit main character, pet whump, contented pet whumpee, nonhuman (humanoid) whumpee, branding, whipping, sedatives, intimate whumper, whumpee x abusive whumper, endgame whumpee x caretaker
Playlist!
The plot: Onthyes just started working for an influential merchant as a guard in his manor. The merchant has a genasi pet (Ventis) who Onthyes is immediately drawn to for some reason. Onthyes notices that, although Ventis is basically treated like an object, he seems happy with his position as the merchant’s slave. Believing Ventis to be a victim despite the contented act he puts on, Onthyes makes it his personal mission to save him (and oops! also falls in love with him).
Ventis:
Onthyes:
Warnings: While this is a whump story I don’t see it getting super bloody but there is going to be non-con. No super explicit non-con is planned at the moment (this is subject to change but I will warn ahead of time). There will be explicit consensual sex. Also there will be needles, drug use, forced addiction, and drug withdrawals. *Safe for emetophobes!*
More detailed warnings containing spoilers below for people who don’t like surprises!
Prologue
Scene: Obedience
Scene: Not Allowed to Die
Scene: Drugged Overstim
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
(Art of Part 3)
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
(Recovery arc starts here)
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
If you’re interested in being on the taglist for this story let me know!
Warnings (Spoilers!): Ventis is forced to use a sedative-like drug via injection every day to keep him compliant and docile. The merchant uses this addiction to control him and sometimes withholds the drugs as punishment, causing Ventis to go through withdrawals. The merchant uses Ventis for sex (again, I don’t currently plan on writing graphic non-con scenes) and sometimes allows others to do the same. Ventis pretends to tolerate this treatment but he has no control over what happens to him. I do plan on this having a happy ending.
This works as a stand-alone, but it is also the prologue to the rest of the story! Aka some good old fashioned pet whump.
Title from 'Liquid Smooth' by Mitski
✧ Series Summary and Warnings
✧ Masterlist
✧ Chapter summary: The story of how Ventis met Athos, and how he came to be Athos's pet.
✧ Chapter warnings: Manipulation, gaslighting, drug use, drug addiction, drug withdrawl, forced drug use, needles, conditioning, power dynamics, intimate whumper, caretaker turned whumper, hallucinations, begging, dub-con, sexual content, coercion, drugged sex, dehumanization, blood mention
*The sexual content is not super explicit but it is there! Ventis does not resist or have any thoughts of not wanting it, but he is on drugs and clearly unable to fight back so be warned.*
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Ventis's POV, 3 years before Part 1
They met in a tavern near the docks.
It was a safe, familiar place to Ventis; comforting after he’d made the long journey from his home kingdom to wherever the fuck he was now. He’d traveled for days with no goal, no destination. He just knew he could never go home again.
Ventis placed his head in his hands, staring down at the empty tankard in front of him. The mead here was good at least, although he’d always preferred wine. But no amount of mead was going to cure the ache in his stomach or the trembling in his hands. His nightspill supply was nearly out, and his pockets were lighter than they’d ever been before.
Gods help this poor city if he ever were to run out. He could already feel the lightning crackling hot under his skin.
“Excuse me. Mind if I join you?”
Ventis shrugged. The stool next to him squeaked as it was pulled out.
“You seem troubled, friend. Can I buy you a drink?”
Fine. If this man was so eager to speak to him Ventis would humor him for a moment. Besides, it would be a good idea to have friends in this city in case he ends up sticking around.
The first thing Ventis noticed was the man’s clothing. He wore a fine suit, fairly plain to the untrained eye but Ventis did consider himself to be an expert in this sort of thing. The man’s jacket alone probably cost more than the homes of some of the tavern’s patrons.
“Thank you,” Ventis said with a nod and a forced smile.
The man ordered him another mead and nothing for himself.
“My name is Athos Landleigh.” He said it proudly, holding afterwards like he was expecting some sort of reaction.
“Ventis Riinturuth. My apologies if I’m supposed to recognize you. I’m new to this city.”
“Ah, I had thought that might be that case. Your face is not one I would forget. What brings you to Nimbria?”
Ventis’s tankard was refilled and he stared down at the honey colored liquid. It had been days, but it still pained him to talk about it. “My father is a lord in the north. We had a… disagreement, and now I have been banished.”
Athos rubbed Ventis’s shoulder, scooting closer to him. “I am sorry to hear that, friend. I won’t pry anymore, but I will offer you my company for the night. Let us drown our sorrows.”
Athos still didn’t have a drink. Ventis didn’t think much of it.
The rest of the night went by in a blur. He drank - far more than he was supposed to - and he didn’t pay anything. He laughed with Athos, leaned heavily on Athos as they walked out to a carriage, fell asleep on Athos’s shoulder on the ride to his house.
When Ventis woke up, he thought for a moment that he was still at home and this whole ordeal had been just a bad dream. But while these silk sheets were superb in quality, the pillows were just a bit softer than he liked them to be and he didn’t recognize the fit of the night clothes he wore.
What he did recognize was the familiar craving that ached deep in his bones. His whole body trembled as he forced himself to sit up and look for his bag. Lightning arched between his shaking fingers in little threads. The bedroom was huge and well furnished and still dark thanks to thick curtains, but his bag was easy to locate on a cushioned bench at the end of the bed.
It was the last pill. Ventis took it with reverence before he laid back down in the bed, closing his eyes and waiting for it to kick in. He tried not to think about what would happen tomorrow, when the cravings came again and he could do nothing to cure it.
It was just starting to kick in when a maid entered, drawing the curtains open to let in the light and setting a tray of fresh fruits and pastries on the bed. She asked him how he liked his tea. Milk and sugar.
Ventis ate and drank alone, blinking the heaviness out of his eyes. It was hard to resist his usual post-nightspill nap, but he didn’t want to risk disappointing his gracious host if he was expected to be seen before late afternoon. A footman brought him some well fitting clothes later and helped him get dressed, and he felt right at home.
Athos greeted Ventis with a warm smile when they next saw eachother, standing and welcoming him into his study.
“You have a beautiful home,” Ventis said as he settled into a plush armchair next to a burning fireplace. “Thank you for allowing me to stay the night. And thank you for the clothes and the food.”
Athos joined him in the chair adjacent. “I would never allow such pleasant company as yourself to freeze on the streets. I have rooms to spare, and I am always glad to help a friend.”
He seemed like such a nice man.
They got to talking, discussing Athos’s work and Ventis’s family. Athos offered Ventis a tour of the manor and Ventis obliged. He admired the lush courtyard garden and the gilded ballroom and the massive library. This was a place he would be glad to stay if given the chance.
“This is lovely. Do you play?” Ventis picked up a golden flute from Athos’s vast collection of instruments, examining the intricate carvings on its body.
“Unfortunately musical talent is not something I have been blessed with. I am merely a collector of pretty things.”
Ventis missed the way Athos eyed him up and down, too enamored by the flute in his hands.
“May I?”
“You play?”
“The piano is my favorite, but air genasi do tend to have a way with wind instruments. It helps that breathing is not a necessity for us.”
Athos’s eyes lit up with interest. “You don’t need to breathe?”
Ventis shook his head. “I mean, I do breathe instinctively. But if I am concentrating I don’t need to.”
“Fascinating. Please, play for me.”
Ventis did as he was asked, playing a lilting melody on Athos’s flute. The man watched intently, a small smile forming on his lips. He applauded when Ventis was finished. “You’re amazing, Ventis. You must play more for me someday soon.”
The two spent the day together, and they hit it off well. They shared a love for the arts and for the finer things in life, and they ended up spending long hours in the library pouring over Athos’s collection of poetry books. When the sun set and Athos invited Ventis to stay overnight once more, Ventis didn’t hesitate.
⋄✧⋄
The pain woke him up as it always did. He forced himself to sit up, going through his usual morning routine of blindly grabbing for his bag and pulling out the glass jar that held his nightspill. But when he went to dump one into his hand, nothing came.
Right. Empty.
Ventis groaned and fell back into the mattress. Thunder rolled through his bedroom, mocking him with a taste of what was to come.
Maybe he could sleep it off. Sure, he’d been taking nightspill every day for a year now, but he was stronger than a little pill. Hopefully it should only knock him out for a few hours. He just had to sleep it off.
But he couldn’t sleep. Every single one of his senses was working on full power. His nerves were on fire. The shadows in the corners of the room began to waltz with each other.
Oh good. Hallucinations. Perfect.
“Good morning sir.” The same maid from yesterday entered, putting down his breakfast and opening the curtains. Ventis curled away from the burst of sunlight with a groan, his head pounding. The maid rushed to his side. “Are you sick, sir? You don’t look well.”
Ventis took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to let Athos find out what was really going on. The man might make him leave, and he wouldn’t make it on the streets in this state. Besides, nightspill was an illegal substance in most places. “Yes, I am sick. Please don’t touch me.”
The maid retracted her hand. “I’ll go tell the master, and we’ll call for a doctor.”
“Not necessary,” Ventis forced out. “I can get over this without a doctor.”
“If you're sure...”
Ventis was left alone again. He pulled the thick blankets over his head, still shivering.
It wasn’t long before Ventis felt the mattress shift as someone sat down next to him. He peeked out from under the blankets to see Athos’s worried face. The man reached out to brush hair from Ventis’s forehead before he could warn him not to.
A thread of electricity crackled between Ventis’s skin and Athos’s fingers. It was a small shock, not anything that could hurt Athos severely, but it still surprised him and he jolted his hand away quickly with a gasp.
“Sorry,” Ventis said quickly. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t touch me.”
Athos shook his hand out, staring at Ventis with confusion clear on his face. “What was that?”
The features on Athos’s face began to shift around sickeningly and Ventis squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m a sorcerer,” he admitted. “I can’t control it when I’m… when I’m sick.”
“You need a doctor.”
“No. Please. It won’t help.”
“Why not?”
Ventis didn’t answer. A high pitched ringing invaded his skull.
“My friend.” Athos’s voice was warm; comforting. “Tell me what is happening. I promise you are safe here. I just want to help you.”
It hurt too much for Ventis to continue to fight. He didn’t have the energy to lie anymore. “I’m out of nightspill,” he whispered.
Athos was quiet for a moment. Ventis still couldn’t stand to open his eyes, but he could hear the man’s fingers tapping a quick rhythm on his leg. “I understand,” he said finally. “You just stay here. I’ll take care of everything.”
Ventis couldn’t bring himself to respond as Athos left the bedroom. The pain was only getting worse with every passing moment, and he was starting to hear things that he was fairly certain weren’t really there. He pulled the covers back over his head, stifling a sob.
Ventis couldn’t be sure how long he laid there, drowning in misery. His whole body hurt. He was somehow both freezing cold and burning hot at the same time. Voices of people he knew for sure he had left back at home echoed in his mind, haunting him.
He was dying. He wanted to die.
A pair of gloved hands grabbed Ventis’s arm roughly, pulling him out from under the covers. He cried out in protest as a new wave of pain tore through him with the movement, shoving weakly at whoever was touching him.
The prick of a needle, an intense pressure in his arm, and then relief.
⋄✧⋄
When Ventis woke up he could almost believe that nothing had happened. His whole body was sore as he sat up and there was a bruise and a tiny bloody mark on the inside of his elbow, but otherwise he felt completely normal.
He wanted answers. He didn’t bother changing out of his night clothes before he left the bedroom, venturing into the manor in search of his host.
He found Athos in his study with a quill in his hand and papers laid out neatly across his desk.
“Ventis! It is good to see you up. You gave me quite a scare this morning.”
“Apologies,” Ventis said, flopping into an armchair. “Thank you for…” He paused, his memory failing. “What exactly happened?”
“It took a little time, but I acquired some nightspill for you,” Athos said simply. “I wasn’t sure if you prefer the pills or the injection, but the injection works the most immediately. I have enough now to last you a few weeks I imagine, so we don’t have to worry about this happening again for some time.”
Ventis could barely comprehend that someone would go through that much trouble - would do something illegal - just to make him feel better. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Athos.”
“Any time, Ventis.” Athos went back to his papers with a pleased smile.
Then Ventis's mind caught up to the rest of what Athos had said. “Wait, a few weeks?”
“Yes, about that.” Athos stacked up the papers he had been writing on and went over to kneel next to where Ventis sat. “I drafted a proposition for you while you were resting.”
That clarified nothing. “What sort of proposition?”
“I would like you to keep an open mind as we discuss this,” Athos said, making pointed eye contact with Ventis. “Can you do that?”
“I can. What’s this about?”
“I told you before that I am a collector of pretty things. And if I may be honest, Ventis, you are absolutely exquisite. Not just in your appearance but in your artistic abilities and your personality. I have grown rather fond of you in these past couple of days, and I would like to add you to my collection.”
Ventis’s mind was still foggy from the nightspill, but he was thinking clearly enough to recognize the unsettling feeling that sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like the way Athos talked about him - the way he compared him to a “pretty thing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s a simple exchange, really. You live in my manor with me. I provide everything you might need - food, clothes, nightspill. You may read or write or practice music to your heart’s content. You will want for nothing. In return, you allow me to own you.”
Ventis’s heart sank. He should’ve guessed that Athos was too good to be true. He stood sluggishly, his head spinning. The nightspill Athos had given him must have been much stronger than what he usually took.
“I should go,” Ventis said, heading for the door. “I am sorry for wasting your time, but I am not interested in being owned by anyone.”
Ventis’s back was turned, so he could not see the sneer that crossed Athos’s face.
“Where will you go?” the man asked simply.
Ventis paused at that. Where would he go? He had very little money, no job, and starting tomorrow morning he would be back in the throes of nightspill withdrawals. “I will figure it out.”
“You will not make it out there, Ventis. I understand that your mind is clouded by the nightspill, but please try to think rationally. You have no other options.”
Ventis turned back to look at him, panic rising in his chest. Athos was right. He wouldn’t be able to fend for himself. "What would you be, then? My owner?"
“I prefer master.”
Ventis felt sick. His entire being rejected the idea of calling this man his master. “I can’t sell myself. I won’t.”
“It’s alright, Ventis. I won’t force you to accept my offer, but I also won’t force you to perish on the streets. So I will offer you a deal. You leave right now. Walk out the door and do your best to make it on your own. My home will be open to you if you realize that you can’t do it. But if you do come back to me, you sign this,” he held up the stack of papers he had been holding, “and you will be mine. Do you understand?”
“You will not see me again,” Ventis said firmly. “Goodbye, Athos.”
⋄✧⋄
He didn’t even last two days.
The remaining gold in Ventis’s pocket was enough to buy himself a room in a cheap inn for a few nights. He played the piano for some tavern guests in exchange for food. He struggled to sleep on the thin, hard mattress, but he promised himself he would get used to it.
What ruined him was the nightspill. The withdrawals set in with ferocity the morning after he left Athos’s manor, and his determination to ride it out didn’t keep him from screaming into his pillow when the waves of pain became unbearable. Rain poured down in sheets and thunder roared overhead, but the storm was centered just over the inn in a perfect circle and it didn’t take the owner long to figure out the source of it and kick Ventis to the curb.
He found an alleyway to huddle in, curling up against the wall of a building to try and steal some of the warmth from inside. The angry winds that whipped around his shivering body did nothing to help, and covering his ears with his frozen hands did nothing to block out the voice of his father, taunting him for how far he had fallen.
Somehow Ventis managed a few hours of sleep. He didn’t know it was possible to feel worse than he already did, but by the next morning he was praying that some merciful deity would take pity on him and end his suffering. Hallucinations had made a playground out of his mind and there wasn’t a single moment that he wasn’t in complete agony.
He was too desperate to even feel shame as he collapsed against Athos’s front door that evening. A guard dragged him inside and deposited him on a couch in the foyer, and Athos met him there moments later with a smug grin on his face.
“Welcome back,” Athos said, kneeling in front of him. He was already holding a vial of nightspill. “Have you realized the reality of your situation?”
“Please,” Ventis rasped, weakly extending his arm.
“Ah, not yet. You have to fulfill your side of the bargain.”
A quill was placed in his hand, already dripping with ink. The words on the paper held out in front of him swam around, completely illegible, but he didn’t care to read them. He found the line that Athos was patiently pointing to and scribbled his name there.
“Good boy,” Athos hummed, patting Ventis’s head with a gloved hand. “Now, what do you say?”
“Please,” Ventis said again, tears streaming down his face. “Please, Athos. You were right. I can’t survive on my own. I need you.”
Ventis sighed with relief, baring his arm again. Athos considered him, then checked his watch with a shake of his head. “I really would rather give you your medicine in the mornings from now on, so you’ll have to wait until then.”
What? No. That wasn't the way this was meant to go.
Ventis sobbed, grabbing for Athos’s jacket sleeve as he moved to leave. “No! Please, you promised!”
“Aw,” Athos cooed, stroking Ventis’s hair. “My poor, pathetic pet thinks my promises mean something to it. Don’t worry, dear, you’ll adjust to the way of things soon enough.”
With that he pried Ventis’s hand from his sleeve and stood, brushing himself off. “Take him to his room,” he said to a guard. “Don’t let him leave.”
Ventis continued to sob as the guard scooped him up and carried him away. He had thought that if he gave up his pride and returned to Athos that the pain would stop. He had depended on it. Athos’s refusal to cure him until tomorrow just cemented the reality of what he had signed himself up for. He was an object now, completely helpless to Athos’s whims.
The guard laid Ventis on his bed and stripped off his dirty clothes with cold detachment before she left, the door locking audibly behind her. Ventis buried his face into a plush pillow and cried until he fell asleep.
⋄✧⋄
The sharp sting of a needle woke Ventis up the next morning. He struggled to open his eyes against the wave of dizziness that followed - a strong current pulling him back towards sleep. He shivered as the blankets were removed from his naked body, but the cold was quickly replaced by soothing warmth as strong arms lifted him and submerged him in a sweet smelling bath.
Ventis finally managed to drag his eyes open, his head lolling back on the edge of the tub. Athos sat on a stool, smiling gently when their eyes met.
“Good morning, treasure,” Athos said, leaning in to kiss Ventis’s forehead.
Ventis made a confused sound in the back of his throat but did not pull away, barely able to move his own body. Some tiny, muted voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to run, to fight, but he couldn’t fathom why he would do that when this bath was so warm and the nightspill made his limbs so heavy.
“What happened?” Ventis managed to ask, his words slurring.
“No need to worry your pretty little head about last night’s unpleasantness, my dear,” replied Athos. “Everything is okay now. Just relax and let me get you clean.”
Ventis complied, closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift off as Athos scrubbed him clean of sweat and dirt and occasionally manipulated his position to ensure he reached every inch of skin.
Hands wandered unexpectedly under the water, but it didn’t feel bad and Athos assured him that everything was fine, that he had nothing to worry about and he should just trust him and let it feel good. Even when the hands went somewhere no one else’s had before and left Ventis gasping and squirming involuntarily, Athos's voice was a constant stream of soothing praise and comfort.
"You look beautiful like this, pet. Ah- stay still for me. Don't struggle. That's it. This is what you're good for.
Part of him felt like crying. The rest of him had to admit that it felt good, and he couldn't stop himself from arching into Athos's touch, tipping his head back lazily to bare his throat.
"See? This comes naturally to you. You exist to please me. To be pleased by me."
Ventis nodded mindlessly. Maybe Athos was right. Why should he bother worrying about anything else when this was so easy? All he had to do was please Athos and everything else would be okay.
After the bath Ventis was seen by a whirlwind of people: a hairdresser, a tailor, a manicurist, all of whom cooed over how pretty he was and how he was nearly perfect already and how lucky Athos was to have him. He found himself preening at their compliments, even though he was slightly confused by the way they were all addressed to Athos as if he wasn’t even in the room.
By the time they left Ventis was dressed in ornate white robes that were beautiful but more revealing than anything he’d ever dressed himself in. His skin had an unnatural glow to it, and his hair was soft and perfectly styled. He looked like a doll. He felt like one too. But Athos showered him with praise, and something about the genuine pride on his face made Ventis smile sleepily.
By the evening Ventis’s mind had cleared somewhat and Athos sat him down to actually read his contract. Horror and disgust piled in the pit of his stomach with every line he read.
He’d literally signed away his autonomy to Athos. He was barely allowed to breathe without permission from his "master". Athos was permitted to do anything he would like to Ventis, and he had to take it. And there was no end, no deadline after which the contract would expire. He was stuck like this forever or until Athos got bored of him.
“Copies have been made and hidden away, all in different locations. You will gain nothing from destroying this contract, so don't try,” Athos said, reading the disgust on Ventis’s face.
“I hate you,” Ventis whispered.
Athos laughed it off. “I will allow you to say that this one time. The next will not go without punishment. But really, pet, do not condemn this life before you’ve tried living it. I am going to make sure you are very comfortable here, and introduce you to unimaginable pleasures. You will be much happier if you just accept it and play along.”
Ventis couldn’t bring himself to respond. His shaky signature mocked him from the bottom of the paper.
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Part 1
Would it be crazy if the prologue had multiple parts also? Like, just whumpy little scenes from Athos's and Ventis's time together. I'll probably do it I just don't want to timeline to get confusing y'know.
Ventisposting taglist (aka a list of people who i want to bake cookies for):
1. What kind of person is your OC in a crisis? Are they calm and collected? Do they panic? Or are they chronically the cause?
Ventis on nightspill and sober Ventis have different answers here I think. On nightspill, he was way too chill in a crisis. His house could be burning down around him and he’d be like ‘lemme just nap for five more minutes…’ Sober Ventis is way more alert, but I think he also hesitates to act in a crisis most of the time. He still has hallucinations from the withdrawals and he usually looks to Onthyes for confirmation that whatever’s happening is real before he acts. He’s able to act pretty quickly without much panic after that.
2. Is your OC a loner or a social butterfly? Are they satisfied with how they come across to other people?
My first instinct is to say he’s very social. His charisma score is like 19 for fuck’s sake. But he was Not popular growing up. Theodore got most of the attention from other kids, since Ventis was a bit of a weirdo and also the only genasi in the city. He really started to crave attention from anyone who would give it to him. After he started taking nightspill and his father basically gave up on training him to be a good heir Ventis started spending a lot of time in the tavern drinking and hanging out with sailors and local hooligans. He was a lot more social then and actually made some friends that way, although they were probably just trying to get close to him because of his wealth and status. To strangers he comes across as very charismatic, definitely not someone who might have had trouble making friends as a child.
13. How important are romantic relationships to your OC? Do they prefer casual sex, short flings, or long term relationships? Do they want to get married or are they content with what they have? Or do they have no interest in romance whatsoever?
Ventis wasn’t interested in romantic relationships for the majority of his backstory. He loves romance novels, but he’s very cynical and believed that no one actually gets that epic romance with their knight in shining armor. While he was on nightspill he spent a lot of time seeking out pleasure since nightspill kept him so numb, and he was always looking for affection from others, so he’s had a good bit of casual sex and was fine with that.
Then of course he met Onthyes, who is every bit the knight in shining armor from all the books he’s read, and that pissed him off because a man like that is simply too good to be true. Eventually Ventis resigned himself to the fact that Onthyes is just genuinely like that but it took him a while. Now he’s happily in a relationship with Onthyes, and if he proposed he’d definitely say yes teehee.
14. How important is friendship to your OC? Do they prefer to have one or two close friends or a large group of casual friends? Or do they prefer their own company over that of others?
Ventis has done the large group of casual friends thing (hanging at the tavern), the small close group thing (Onthyes, Shayah, and a few unnamed others), and the single friend who is so close that they’re codependent thing (Peer, who I don’t speak on much). I think he’s decided that the small close group is best. With Peer they got too close and things got messy. Feelings were hurt. With the folks at the tavern he felt like he was being used a lot of the time. (NSFW: Those friends convinced him to let them give him a tongue piercing just because they thought it would make it more interesting when he sucked them off. Not the best friends ever imo.)
