Ivory - An Eburnean Tommy AU

xlii - your hope

Ivory - xlii ; Your Hope

Created: 03.11.23

Finished: 03.13.23

Edited: 03.14.23 / 03.15.23

Published: 03.15.23

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Trigger Warning: descriptive torture(be warned), blood, wound, cuts and bruises, burn, brain injuries, swearing mentions of attempting suicide and death, bob

Word Count: 2464

A/N: this is for someone who had the audacity to give a chapter almost 500 comments. You're amazing, and you deserve a pov you desired that although I originally planned not to include, but I wrote it down as a gift. This pov is not ought to be revealed and I had no plans in showing it at all, but someone truly wants this man to be seen tortured in a way to wonder what has been happening to him all this time.

Well this is it.

Important announcements is written at the after notes. So you better look out for it.
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"Quackity."
.
.
.
"Quackity."
.
.
"Quacki-"

Blood sputters out from his mouth, his hit jolting him awake. God, everything in him hurts - particularly his face.

His wrists and ankles are all sore, wrapped in chains whereas his body is pinned against a metal pole.

It hurts more than mere ropes, orders from Dream of course,

"Good. You're awake. Gods, I should be a bit more careful. I try my best not to hit your head too much. If your concussion leads you to shock, then to coma..I might not be able to enjoy your cries."

That made him laugh, his bloodshot teeth glowering.

It takes forever for his body to grow numb, as for his face well, he could no longer feel it at all. 

Well, despite all the bruises, his only functional eye can still see, the other rendering useless,

"What's so funny? Is pain hilarious to you? Would you like me to entertain that further?" The duck can only bite the insides of his cheeks, as Dream claws his shoulder.

His bruises ache more as the maniac's fingers deepen to his skin, reddening it, then puncturing it to bleed.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

His mouth let out a small gasp once Dream had enough and let go.

He could no longer be surprised if he could take a part of his flesh off of his soon to be mangled body.

With no medical aid and potions, he isn't so sure he could live so normally if he ever does escape.

Bold of him to think he ever lived a normal life, let alone escape.

It must have been days.

So many days since he ever felt the taste of sunlight and grass.

The only thing he could feel was the coolness of both obsidian and netherite, as well as the agoning heat of lava enslaving him further from the world.

Oh and the pain, forgot about that-

"How does it feel? Beating the shit out of you? Every single fucking day? I get about me being able to revive you in case you die. But I'm not giving you that kind of luxury, oh no. Nor give you the privilege to kill yourself either, nooo-"