#but he's competent. Corrain's first handler....wasn't. and that was purposeful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunderedazem · 2 years

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WIP Whenever!

I got tagged by @ipreferfiction, and I hereafter subject the following people to this (optional) tag game, with whatever you count as a WIP: @fenrisprime2003, @darthcatboy, @darth-nessight, @borealtwilight, @magicallulu7, and @starwers! (and anyone else who has a WIP rattling around inside their skulls like I do <3)

SO, A WIP: From after the creation of the Emperor's Blade (aka "Lord Lune") on board the Fortress - Corrain has Fallen by this point, but he hasn't been beaten into submission. They never quite manage that. But he's not a Jedi by this point, and he knows it.

TW: whump/torture, because Corrain *never* gets a damn break

"You will learn your place, Blade, or you will suffer until you are cowed into submission. Try again."

The words cut through the frigid, fluttering haze of blood loss and the accompanying agony searing his back in latticework patterns, disgust and fury laced through Chaskar's tone. Corrain spat bitterly, blocking out the wavering darkness leeching strength from the edges of his vision, and set his face against the pillar he'd been chained to, hands bound above his head, barbed cuffs digging razor edges deep into his wrists and sending warmth spilling down the trembling length of his arms.

Everything hurt, all over again - heart, soul, mind and body, nothing had been spared from being torn in half. Yet again. But he couldn't help but bare his teeth, the burn of furious ice in his chest fueling the only thing he had left with which to keep himself sane.

Furious, unyielding defiance.

"Go fuck yourself," he snarled thinly, and molten fire snapped across his shoulder blades again, the crack of Chaskar's whip drowning out his groan of pain. Skin split beneath the leather and chain weapon, yet another long gash to add to the already substantial collection. He wobbled briefly, grey suffusing his vision- and then with a vicious growl, forced it back, clinging to the howling gale of pain and anger and clawing, churning hatred storming in his chest to keep awake. To keep conscious, for just a moment longer - because once he passed out he'd be helpless.

It was all that kept him going, now. All that kept him from breaking into a hollow shell of compliance. And to think he'd once eschewed it as destructive and useless. He wanted to cry and laugh all at once, loathing clinging to each strained breath as it left his lips, and as the whip cracked down again he slipped further towards the dark.

Lightning crackled briefly between his fingertips, fury sour and cold in the Force around him. He reached for it blindly, plunging both hands into the shadow. It slipped from his grasp tauntingly - but not before his hand burned with cold and the static cling snapped in white bolts to the floor below.

Chaskar laughed mockingly at him.

"Such hate, apprentice. To think you were once a Jedi..."

Something snapped- rage igniting like liquid adrenaline, and he tore at the barbed bonds holding him in place, flesh tearing as he lunged, blind with pain physical and emotional. Chaskar crowed in surprise, stumbling backward, his scarlet face the focus of Corrain's narrowing vision, thready beats of shock and blood loss reverberating inside his head.

And then-

"Keyword, lunar regolith. Kneel, Blade."

He seized up instantly, the guttering candle flame of his free will snuffed, his thoughts muffled with a blanket of barbed wire. He blinked into a sudden headache kaleidoscope of color and pain, head throbbing, skull splitting- and knelt obediently, limbs heavy.

Chaskar sighed theatrically, and then agony cracked across one half of Corrain's face, stars flashing brilliantly across a greying background world. The Sith had kicked him, boot striking cheekbone.

He collapsed to one side, his brain a leaden weight inside his skull, pain pulsing from his shredded wrists and back and face. Even the frigid burn of anger could not longer clear the haze of creeping unconsciousness from his field of of vision, no matter how he tried.

"I almost admire the depth of your rage, apprentice," Chaskar hummed then. "It fuels you beautifully."

There was a beat of silence, the withering tendrils of his captor and master's face blurring to smudges. Pain was fading from his senses now- he could only just manage to keep aware enough to hear the steady thud of approaching footsteps. And then-

"Lord Chaskar. He is at his limit."

The deep voice was a familiar one, a low baritone that vaguely reminded Corrain not of safety or comfort, necessarily, but at least of tolerance. He tried to blink- but his eyes were shut, lids heavy. When had he closed them?

"I'm aware, my Lord Wrath - that was the goal today. Are you here to clean up this mess?"

"...mind your tongue, lest you lose it. Need I remind you that though you are this one's handler, I am the one that holds your leash?"

Oh, that was an interesting tidbit. It had been said so softly though…

Ah. He was fading

"...no, my lord."

"Good."

#wip whenever #whump #castellan mind control #swtor oc #swtor stuff #swtor #swtor fic #jedi knight oc #corrain #corrain gealai #moonrise legacy #fallen jedi #this entire fragment of Corrain's story is just him being pushed to the brink over and over until he finally snaps #also: chaskar's a dick. a massive dick #but he's competent. Corrain's first handler....wasn't. and that was purposeful

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