#wow birthday whump day 5

[kabie-whump]

WoW Birthday Whump Day 5

Prompts: Scream / Captivity / “NO!” Additional content: Whumpee and Caretaker are both captives, Caretaker listens to Whumpee being tortured through a wall.

Caretaker leans against the thin wall, pressing their forehead to it. They’re alone now. Whumper had come in a few minutes ago and dragged Whumpee away. 

They can hear voices on the other side of the wall - muffled conversation. The occasional slapping sound followed by a yelp or whimper. It’s killing Caretaker to listen to, knowing there’s nothing they can do to help their friend. 

Then, a scream pierces through the wall.

Caretaker shoots to their feet, wide eyed. “Whumpee! No!” They pound their fist on the wall but it does nothing to quiet the screaming. “Stop it! Don’t hurt them!”

A deathly silence falls over the room, leaving Caretaker panting and holding back tears.

Then the screaming stars up again. It doesn't stop for hours. When Whumpee is tossed back into the cell they're bloody and broken, flinching at every movement as Caretaker draws them into their arms.

[whumped-by-glitter]

Day 5: Scream / Captivity / “NO!” Bonus Alt Prompt: Mouth Stitched shut

⚠️ CW: Needles, Piercings, Non-Con Body Mods, Creepy/Intimate Whumper, Nudity (non sexual), Drugging, Mild-Moderate Gore/Horror, Mouth Whump.

Day 4 Here < > Day 6 Here

This is an especially TW heavy entry, feel free to skip it, I will provide a summary of the plot important parts next time we catch up with Whumpee! some of these themes even squick me out!

Story Under The Cut

Days had passed since the horrific photoshoot. Whumper was true to their word and had provided them with a little food and copious amount of water, as much as they wanted after the session.

Whumpee sat ruminating, sitting against the wall they were once again chained to. A dim spotlight above them was their only source of light. They shifted uncomfortably, trying not put pressure on any of the still healing cuts and bruises that decorated their skin.

They winced at the word ‘decorated’, now they were sounding like Whumper apparently. They had no other word for it though, Whumper had carved an intentional pattern of shallow stabs and deep slashes across their entire body, front, back sides everywhere.

They plunked their head lightly against the wall, the sound echoing through the torture chamber hidden in the darkness ahead of them.

Their stomach rumbled loudly; they had not been fed again since that day. Whumper said it was to ‘keep them pretty for the masterpiece.’ Whumpee shivered at the thought, the person who held them captive was deranged.  They desperately hoped the team would find them before it was too late. Their wounds weren’t healing right, likely due to the stress and lack of food. Many weren’t scabbing over and were oozing a clear watery liquid. If Whumper didn’t do something to kill them first, infection was likely to finish the job, they thought in despair.

All at once there was an echoing thunk-click and the room flooded with harsh light, blinding whumpee.

Whumpee knew this meant Whumper had finished the planning for their ‘masterpiece’. Whumpee cowered as best as they could in the chains, trying to make themselves small, trying to protect themselves from the inevitable pain that they knew was coming.

A knot formed in Whumpee’s stomach when they saw a bag of supplies. The knot grew tighter and tighter as Whumpee watched Whumper unpack the bag. NEEDLES! SO MANY NEEDLES!!! Whumpee started to hyperventilate. They were terrified of needles and there was a table full of the me being unpacked.

“NO! NO! NONONONONO!” whumpee wailed, visibly trembling. Fear was threatening to drown them.

“Oh, come now, sweetheart, we haven’t even started yet,” Whumper chuckled. He finished setting up some paints and strode over to their prisoner. Whumper stroked Whumpee’s face, running his thumb under Whumpee’s eye, across their cheekbone. “before any of that, you need some color,” Whumper said softly, almost lovingly, a tone that made Whumpee feel physically sick.

Whumper proceeded to unchain Whumpee from the wall, not even bothering to handcuff them, they were too weak to fight in any meaningful way. He led them to a St. Andrew’s cross in the corner. Once Whumpee’s hands and feet were secured, they could hear Whumper skipping across the room for a moment before, skipping back to them, humming.

Whumpee craned their neck but before they could look…

Crack!

The noise split their ears seconds before their brain registered the searing pain. Whumpee cried, jerking in their bonds.

More and more lashes came.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The noise, the fear from the needles, the pain, it all got too much for Whumpee. They soon passed out.

When Whumpee came too, they felt a strange coolness being smeared on their back. It wasn’t unpleasant at first. It soon started to register that It was burning in the fresh whip wounds. Then the smell hit them, paint.

Whumpee tried to weakly struggle, to no avail.

“shhh, shhh,” Whumper crooned, “I’m almost done laying the background, blue looks gorgeous on you sweetheart.” Whumper wiped the access paint off, leaving the pigment just in the wounds, “now baby, its time for the real art.”

Whumpee started to feel panic welling up as they thought of the needles. Their breath quickened as they heard the table be drug closer to the cross. When Whumper unwrapped a needle and brought it to their back, Whumpee lost it.

Everything went black, their body burned, the burning soon became a feeling of being enveloped by white and it traveled up their body, centering at their throat. Whumpee gave a scream, an unnatural scream that shook the room.

Whumper crumpled in pain for a moment, trying to shake the ringing from his ears.

It took what felt like a lifetime to Whumpee for time to move again. ‘what had just happened?’

“My information said you didn’t have any powers!” Whumper growled angerly, storming to the table, grabbing a syringe. “No matter, you won’t be doing that again.” Before Whumpee could react, they felt a stab in their neck and a cool liquid flow into them. It only took a few minutes before they basically collapsed in the restraints.

To Whumpee’s horror, they realized they couldn’t move, at all, they couldn’t talk, they couldn’t even move their head. They started to completely lose their mind; fear coursed through them like a tidal wave. Every cell of their lizard brain was telling them to run, urging them to run, but they couldn’t move. Their tear ducts worked and that’s about it. They wanted to scream again but couldn’t. for the first time in their life Whumpee felt true Terror.

Whumpee felt themselves be detached from the cross and lifted. They were laid across the bench, the same one Whumper had drawn on them with a knife with. Whumpee would have winced if they could, the leather material touching their freshly wounded back stung.

“Now let’s fix that mouth of yours before the drugs wear off,” Wumper almost gleemed. “I wasn’t planning on this, but now the thought is there, this is going to add so much extra dimension!” Whumper was positively giddy. He disappeared for a moment but soon returned, standing over them.

Whumpee expected a gag, or tape, or….. they didn’t exactly know what they expected, but nothing could compare to the horror of what they saw…..

WHUMPER WAS STANDING OVER THEM WITH A NEEDLE AND FUCKING THREAD!!!!

“hold still,” Whumper gave a deranged smile.

The tears flowed freely from Whumpee’s eyes, as they tried to mentally brace them self for what was coming. They could do nothing but watch as Whumper threaded the thick purple thread onto the needle, inches from their face.

Whumper pinched Whumpee’s lips together and in one smooth motion pierced through both their top and bottom lip. Whumpee’s mind was screaming in terror, this couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t be real. Maybe this was just one of those sleep paralysis episodes they read about. they tried desperately to think about something else, of Caretaker. Trying to picture every detail of their face, of leader, of everyone.

Pain continued to prick across their lips, the thread burning as it was pulled through. The pulling sensation was causing waves of nausea and despair to wash over them.

They again tried to distract them self. ‘what was youngest doing right now?’ They wondered to them self. It was no use though; the fear gripped their chest hard. Darkness edged their vision then, mercifully took over.

When Whumpee came to again they were on their stomach, they were immediately hit by sharp piercing pains. ‘the needles’ they realized in horror. They felt the skin on their shoulder blades be pinched then pierced through, again and again. Each time it pulled and agitated their lashes. They tried to move but still couldn’t.

“Almost done, my beautiful fallen angel,” Whumper sung. This lunatic was singing!

Whumpee felt more and more needles go into their shoulder blades, being pressed under the skin and out the other side. They started crying again, their lips were throbbing, their back was burning, stinging, and throbbing. ‘this can’t be real.’ They thought weakly, as the prolonged panic was beginning to shift to mental and physical exhaustion.

Whumpee felt themselves be lifted once again. This time they were being carried up the stairs, to their surprise and dread. What was going to happen to them now?

On the way up Whumpee’s head lulled and they were horrified to see rough, distressed feathers sticking out of their back like wings. They began shedding fresh tears anew. They were terrified the team would never find them and that they would just die here with Whumper.

Whumper carried Whumpee through what appeared to be a twisted art museum. He brough them to a huge glass case in the middle of the room. There were cables with hooks hanging from the ceiling, ‘sharp hooks’ Whumpee observed fearfully.

Whumper stripped them of the rest of their clothes then placed their limp, still paralyzed body on the floor in the center of the glass chamber. Whumpee looked on in helpless horror as Whumper lowered the hooks with a button.

The panic whumpee felt as the first hook pierced through the upper right part of their skin was indescribable. The pain was horrible but the fear, the horror, being unable to do anything but watch, that was so much worse.

A second matching hook went in and out of their skin. They could feel blood trickle across their bare skin. Then whumper got another deranged grin.

“we should get the difficult ones; the succinylcholine will be wearing off soon doll.” Whumper was still humming that sickening tune.

He brought two hooks to his face and put the first one through the skin on their cheek bone, just inches below their eye. Whumpee’s fight or flight instincts once again started to uselessly kick in, serving only to heighten their terror. They could hear the gross sound of the skin being pierced.

“so gorgeous,” Whumper whispered softly, stroking Whumpee’s hair before placing the next hook in the same place on the other side of their face.

This processed over and over again, two through their chest, two more on either side of their lower stomach. The final 2 went through the skin just above their knees.

If Whumpee had had anything in their stomach they would have vomited.

“Now the final touch!” Whumper exclaimed exuberantly.

Again, terror flew through Whumpee as Whumper pressed a button and they felt themselves lifted by the hooks.

Again, merciful darkness overtook Whumpee, it was all too much.

Event Prompt

My Event Masterlist

@whumperofworlds, @pigeonwhumps, @whumpsandbumps

[i-eat-worlds]

Wow Birthday Whump Day 5: Alt. Bridal Carry and “No!”

This is a fun one :) Teri whump!

Content: discussions and fear of death, brief hospital setting, severe illness, medic caretaker,

Teri smiled as Avia shuffled the cards, ignoring the pain pulsing in her head. The calm noise of the rec room buzzed around them, heroes playing thrilling games of air hockey and Mario Kart behind them. Avia had complained about a “post mission high,” and Teri wasn’t feeling super great, so they had opted for something calmer.

“Cut the cards.” They offered her the deck, narrowing their eyes. “Are you okay?”

She scrubbed her face. “Nothing. Probably caffeine.”

Avia took the deck back, dealt five cards to her, then five cards to herself, and placed it in the center of the table. Teri flipped the first card over, revealing a six of hearts. “You should probably lay off that stuff.”

“Yeah. But it tastes good.” She discarded a six of spades.

They snickered. “Fair enough.”

Teri sighed, drawing three more cards until they got one they could play. A moment of silence passed. “That was one hell of a job though.”

“Yeah. How many new baddies were there?” They grumbled something under their breath, realizing they couldn’t play.

“Seven or eight? To many.” She slapped down another card. Her stomach twisted, but she kept the discomfort off her face.

“Fuck,” they muttered, drawing another four cards. “I think they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel on the name front too.”

“Oh absolutely.” She smirked, ridding herself of a three of spades. “What was that one guy called- “The vaposquasher” or something?”

“I don’t know. There's too many of them to keep track of.” Her hand was starting to get stretched thin, keeping a hold of all of the cards.

“Yeah.” They lapsed into silence. The full day had lapped up their energy quite a bit, and they were both tired.

Her heart fluttered a little, discomfort flaring in her chest, and she made a face. Definitely too much caffeine then.

“You sure you’re alright?” Avia said, filling her hand with two more cards.

She nodded, using two fingers to flip over the last card in her hand, a queen of spades. “I know I’m alright.” She brought it down triumphantly. “I believe that makes me the winner.”

Avia gave her a look. “Pride comes before the fall, Teri.” They started to reshue their cards back into the deck, preparing for another round. “I’ll get you next time.”

The vibrating in her chest flared again, and she could feel her heart pounding double time. Her vision lurched, the room whirling around her for a moment. “Um, I think I’m going to go to bed.” She looked down at her watch. “Maybe the telekinesis did more than I thought today.”

“I’ll come with then. We all know I should be getting more sleep anyway.” They slid the cards back into their packaging. Teri stood up, trying not to wobble too much. Though they didn’t say anything, she could feel Avia behind her, ready to catch her just in case.

They made it to the elevator without issue, but halfway up, Teri found herself swaying again. The bright, reflective box was spinning, and the railing was unhelpful in that regard. She could feel it closing in on her, the walls narrowing, and she turned to Avia, frantically trying to get her to understand that something was wrong. Black dots filled her vision and she went limp, collapsing into Avia’s chest.

Eventually, she came too with her head pressed against Avia’s chest, arms positioned under her knees and upper back. The world felt like molasses, still gooey and unstable as she lifted her head up. “Hi ‘via.”

Avia looked relieved. “You’re awake.”

She nodded a little. “I need ‘oseph…” Her heart was still thundering in her chest. “Something’s wrong..”

“I’m getting you to him.” She turned the corner, trying not to jostle Teri too much.

“Oh..thank you….” Teri’s head bounced against Avia’s chest.

“I’ve got cha’.” They arrived outside of the door, and Avia pushed it open with her foot.

She charged straight through the foyer, laying Teri out on the couch. “Joseph?” Her voice carried through the apartment as he looked around for him.

“What do you need, Avia?” He walked down the hallway, steps quickening when he saw Teri laying on the couch. Judging from the basketball shorts and slippers, he had been about five minutes from going to bed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. She passed out in the elevator.” Avai looked at him frantically.

“I’ll look her over, yeah.” He knelt down in front of the couch. “Can you get me my stuff from under the sink?” Her eyes lingered on Teri for a moment before she turned and shot down the hallway.

Joseph leaned forward. “Teri, are you with me?”

Her eyes flickered towards him. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he smiled at her, two fingers pressing into the thumb side of her wrist. “Do you know where you are?”

She nodded. “Apartment. With Avia. We were playing cards.”

Her skin was cool and sweaty underneath his touch. “How do you feel right now?”

“Tired. And dizzy. And my head hurts.” She was quiet for a moment. “It’s…It’s hard to breathe and my chest feels fluttery.”

Avia reappeared, setting the bag down next to him. “Can you call the response team?” He asked her.

Teri’s eyes went wide. “You think it’s that bad?”

He pulled on a pair of gloves as he spoke. “I think it's worth getting you some more help. They have equipment that I don’t, yeah.” She nodded, a little tearfully. “When did this start?”

“After we got back?” She shifted. The fact that breathing was difficult was obvious. “It wasn’t like this, just a headache, and some dizziness.”

“Have you taken anything at all? Even like an ibuprofen?” He unzipped the bag, pulling out the AED to get to what he needed.

“No.” She shook her head, then slowly pushed herself up with her elbow. “Not even caffeine.”

The movement caught his eye. “Is it better when you’re sitting up?”

“Yeah.” She pushed herself up more, and he let her.

“Alright.” Now that she was sitting, he no longer had to kneel. “When did you last eat or drink?”

The position change seemed to bring her some relief. “After we got back. A couple hours ago.”

“I’m going to get your vitals, and then we’ll go from there, yeah?” She nodded, and he started by clipping the pulse oximeter to her arm. After that came blood pressure, and that was where the real party started.

He kept his face neutral as he deflated the cuff. Hypertensive crisis. Wonderful. Her temperature and pupils were fine, but she was breathing too fast and he could feel the irregularity of her heartbeat in her wrist.

An even worse look spread across her face. “Joseph, somethings really wrong.” She pawed at her chest. “I don’t know…but it's not right.”

“The response team is on their way.” He squeezed her hand. “We’ll figure it out, yeah. You’re in good hands.”

“I just…” Her mouth made a million shapes but no words. “I don’t wanna die, Joseph.”

His eyes flew to her as soon as the words left her mouth. “Hey, hey, hey, no. I’m going to take care of you, yeah.” She was crying messily, and she might not have even heard him.

“It’s bad, Joseph, it’s really bad.” She reached out towards him, clinging onto the shiny material of his shorts.

His eyebrows furrowed. “How about you get on the ground?”

Teri listened, shakily lowering herself down onto the floor. The carpet was grating on her skin. “Joseph…Joseph I need…” She sobbed. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die.”

The world shimmered for a moment, before everything gathered into a pinpoint and disappeared. She was sure Joseph was saying something, but the only words that got to her before oblivion was Avia’s terrified, shrieked “Teri no!”

***

Joseph hunched over in the uncomfortable, too-hard chair at Teri’s bedside. Avia was snoring softly behind him, asleep in the much more comfortable seat, but he didn’t really care. Comfort would’ve been foreign to him anyway.

The normally background hum of the ward was extra jarring, and even though he knew what all of them did, seeing Teri surrounded by so many machines wasn’t exactly comforting. She’d arrested, right on the floor of Turquoise’s common room. It made sense then, but now that everything had calmed down, it felt worse. Random and targeted, at the same time.

He reached for her hand, careful of the cannula burrowed inside it. They’d said she was likely to recover, said that whatever crazy ass thing the supervillain had done was wearing off, said that she was responding to treatment and that her prognosis looked good, but it still didn’t erase the sinking feeling in his gut.

He’d promised her, he’d promised Pat, that he wouldn’t lose another. And this had cut far too close for comfort.

The words ghosted the back of his mind, amongst the chaos and the panic and the blood.

“Always kid, Always.”

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps@rainydaywhump@painful-pooch@rainbowsandwhumperflies@snaillamp @whumperofworlds

[writingphoenix]

WoW Birthday Whump Day 5

Here's day 5 of the WoW Birthday Whump event! I finally put together a masterlist that can be found here. It's a short one but that's honestly all I have the energy for right now.

Prompt: Scream / Captivity

The man had brought him back down to the closet in the basement after he had eaten. He had finally released Nathan’s hands from the cuffs. His wrists were raw after wearing the handcuffs for however many days he had spent in captivity. He still had the shock collar on and he had a feeling that would be a more permanent thing. He also had a large jug of water now and the man had said it would be refilled every day. Nathan was thankful for that.

A few hours later, the man came again. 

“Follow me,” he ordered. Nathan looked at him and slowly began to get up. Again he felt the shock from his collar course through his body. It wasn’t quite as strong this time but he still screamed and found himself on his hands and knees trying to catch his breath.

“When I give a command, I expect immediate obedience. Get up and follow me,” the man snapped. Nathan scrambled to his feet and followed the man out of the room and back upstairs.

He spent the afternoon and evening on his hands and knees scrubbing at the floor with a rag and a bucket of soapy water. Any time he tried to stop to rest, he was shocked. His arms ached and he was sure the bruises on his knees would never fade but he had to keep going. He didn’t have any other choice.

Finally, the man snapped his fingers and ordered Nathan to stand. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as his abused knees would allow and desperately prayed his swaying body wouldn’t give out.

He somehow made it back downstairs to his room and passed out as soon as he lay down.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Nightmares (Magician's Bait, Part 3)

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 5: Scream / Captivity / "NO!"

Whumpril Day 2 (Sweat), Day 11 (Can't Sleep), Day 18 (Broken Glass)

WoW Whump Event Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

TW: captivity, chains, broken glass, monster, guns, death, knife, magic whump, nightmare, kidnapping mention, arguing

first part | <- previous part | next part ->

Context: It's been four years since Reese's life first went to shit. Although everything's settled down, she still has nightmares about the experience. An old friend and a bitchy magician visit her, seeking aid in the case of Damian's abduction.

-----

She was back in the cell.

The chains on her wrists, the bruises on her arms, the clear, tempered glass that allowed her captors to observe as her life force was stolen from her.

The cold, glass cell.

Reese’s voice bounced off the walls as she screamed for help. The vibrations shook her to the core, echoing from every direction, amplified and distorted. But she didn’t stop.

Not until the answering roar came from above.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

No.

Not the—

The monster barreled past her cell, claws scraping and gouging the floor in its haste for prey. Her.

Reese clamped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. The monster noticed her somehow, by sight or sound or scent, and charged.

The force of the first blow cracked the glass. Strong as it was, the cell was never meant to hold a creature like that. A werewolf? Werebear?

It didn’t matter what sort of creature it was. As it backed up for a second strike, Reese made herself as small as possible, raising her forearms to protect her face.

The glass shattered at the second blow. The tiny, sharp pieces slashed at the exposed skin of Reese's arms, and something warm and wet ran down her arms, dripping onto the floor. A stray shard sliced through the skin below her left eye.

The monster roared, an ear-splitting cry echoing throughout the entire manor.

And the answering gunshot was just as loud.

Crack! Crack-crack! Crack-crack!

It took five bullets before the creature finally fell. Reese stared at the beast in shock as her savior stepped over its corpse, gun in hand, the glass crunching under his feet. She scrambled back, broken glass digging into the palms of her hands.

“It’s okay,” the guard said, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

A strange noise came from above. A sound simultaneously like a hiss and a yowl.

The guard unlocked Reese’s chains and pulled her to her feet. “The experiment has failed,” he said, “you need to get away now!”

“But—” Reese protested, “you—”

The guard led her around the monster's corpse and down the corridor, shrugging off his mottled jacket as he did so. He thrust the coat at her, and she numbly put it on. 

“I’ll be okay,” he said. The voice had changed, and his face became Draven’s. Then Octavian’s. “You need to stay safe.”

They reached the door. The one leading out of the manor and into the forest. “NO!” Reese shouted, pulling away from him. “No… don’t leave me alone!”

“But you’re not alone,” Octavian said softly. When had the gun become a knife? “You have—”

A sharp voice cut through the air, speaking a word Reese did not understand. A rune. Octavian froze mid-word, eyes wide, before crumpling to the ground. Reese screamed, falling to her knees beside him, trying to find a pulse.

“Oh, child,” someone said behind her, “you can’t save him.”

Reese stiffened. She knew that voice!

Kaira snatched her by the arm and yanked her away from Octavian, turning her around. The woman’s face was contorted in rage. “Let’s see if you’re immune to knives too,” she hissed, rune-inscribed dagger raised high.

Reese watched, helpless, as it plunged towards her heart and—

She snapped awake, chest heaving, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her skin was slick with sweat, and at some point, she'd kicked off her blankets. Curling up into a ball, Reese started to sob.

---------------------------

Barely an hour later, Reese was sitting at the dining table, wrapped in a blanket and sipping coffee, when a knock sounded from the door. She didn’t need to check a clock to know it was still early in the morning. The first hints of the sunrise had yet to leak over the horizon.

Grabbing her rune-inscribed knife from where she’d left it on the table, Reese silently crept to the door. She paused in front of it, listening.

“...you sure your contact can help us?” a woman’s voice.

“Yes.” The response was short, almost snappish, but recognizable enough.

Reese opened the door, keeping the dagger out of view. “This is early, even for you, Luc.”

Luc jumped, reaching for his akinaka blade before he realized what he was doing. He at least had the sense to look somewhat sheepish. “‘Morning, Reese. Sorry to wake you up.”

Reese eyed the person behind him. Her face was hidden beneath a gray cowl. “I wasn’t asleep. Who’s your friend?”

Luc glanced back at the woman. “She’s why we’re here at such an inconvenient hour. May we come in, please?”

Reese popped her head out the door and checked down the hallway. The lamps had burned low and wouldn’t be lit until after sunrise. Everyone else in the apartment complex was asleep, and the halls were deserted. She nodded and opened the door the rest of the way, leading them to the dining room.

“Coffee?” She motioned to the pot.

“Reese…” Luc’s tone was scolding, but she ignored it as she returned to her seat, setting her knife back on the table in full view of everyone. 

Thankfully, he let the matter drop, pulling out a chair for the woman before seating himself. “What I’m about to tell you is classified information and does not leave this room. Is that clear?”

Reese rolled her eyes. “You know who you’re talking to, right?”

“I need a better confirmation than that.”

“Yes. Understood. Point taken. Clear as glass.” She winced at the metaphor. Too soon.

Luc sighed. “Are you aware of the recent rumors pertaining to the prince?”

“You mean the ones claiming that he was sent to the north as ambassador to the elves? That he’s sick with the plague? Or that he abdicated the throne and the king just hasn’t announced it yet? Or—”

“Yes,” Luc interrupted before she could go on, “those. All those are speculating why the prince hasn’t made a public appearance in over a week. Well… I was just informed of the truth.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Prince Damian has been kidnapped.”

Reese blinked. “...okay…” she said slowly.

“Luc,” the woman said, speaking for the first time since she entered Reese’s home, “how is this child supposed to help us?”

“Caiya…” Luc warned softly as Reese’s hands curled into fists. “Don’t. She is exactly the right person to help. Probably the only person who can help.” 

He returned his attention to Reese. “We—Caiya, some detectives, and I—have determined that the abduction was… well… it was impossible unless the person who did it was a magician, or—”

“Or a Stalker,” Reese cut him off, thinking quickly. “One who Caiya can find, but is too much of a coward to fight.”

Caiya inhaled sharply, but Reese affixed her with a glare. “Save it. I might be young, but I’ve seen a lot of shit.” Her eyes flicked to Luc. “I’ll help, but only because I’m the only one who can, and only if I’m properly compensated.”

“Of course,” Luc agreed, a bit too eagerly. His chair scraped roughly against the floor as he stood. “I know it’s inconvenient, but could you return with us to my office? From there we can figure out our next move and you can speak with His Majesty yourself.”

“Excuse me, Luc,” Caiya interjected as Reese rose, “shouldn’t we let her parents know where she’s going?”

“My parents are visiting relatives across the ocean,” Reese snapped, “and they know I can handle myself.” She snatched her knife off the table and stalked out of the room to change. Responsibility or no responsibility, she was not going to get belittled by a self-righteous magician like Caiya Ebony. She’d faced far worse than the magician had imagined.

When Reese returned to the dining room, knife strapped to her thigh, a bag of essentials slung over her shoulder, and the familiar mottled jacket replacing the blanket, she arrived in the midst of an argument.

“Listen here,” Luc hissed, hands firmly planted on the table. “Magician or not, if you duel her, you will lose. Badly. She won that dagger, and she’d rather be cast into the depths than lose it. And if you challenge her to a duel, I will personally see to it that you face the prince’s captor by yourself. Are. We. Understood?”

“Did I miss something?” Reese asked softly.

Luc flinched and whirled around. His expression was neutral, but his cheeks were red from anger. “No,” he lied, shooting a glare at Caiya.

Reese’s eyes darted between Watcher and magician as she fought to keep the surge of pride from showing on her face. She made a mental note to thank Luc later when the magician wasn’t around. “Well… are we going then?”

“Yes,” Luc affirmed quickly. Too quickly. “Right now.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds

[whumperofworlds]

WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Hi everyone! WoW here, and after some thought, I decided to do this! Unfortunately, no fancy picture or anything so this will have to do!

Also, instead of the entire month, I'll do 15 days instead! Thinking up different prompts for all 30 days is kinda hard, so this will have to do LOL

The event starts this year, 2024, on April 1st and ends on April 15th! So get your stuff ready till then!

And since it's my first time doing something like this, feel free to critique and suggest anything :D

PROMPTS, ALT PROMPTS, AND RULES UNDER THE CUT!

PROMPTS

Day 1

Kidnapping / Bound and gagged / "I have your loved one."

Day 2

Starvation / Thirst / "Please..."

Day 3

Crying / Parting Words Regret / "Why...?"

Day 4

Electrocution / Waterboarded / "Anything but that!"

Day 5

Scream / Captivity / "NO!"

Day 6

Nonhuman whumpee / Reluctant Whumper / "Run!"

Day 7

Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / "Is that blood?!"

Day 8

Stranded / Team whump / "Is anyone there?!"

Day 9

Aftermath of rescue / Sickness / "You're burning up."

Day 10

Hypothermia / Heat flashes / "Bind them."

Day 11

Used as bait / Held for ransom / "It's a trap!"

Day 12

Magic exhaustion / Collapsed / "So tired..."

Day 13

Natural disaster / Shock collar / "Shut up!"

Day 14

Guilt / Chased / "I bought you time, use it!"

Day 15

Hidden injury / Outnumbered / "I'm sorry."

ALTERNATE PROMPTS

Abandoned whumpee

Bridal carry

Claustrophobia

Forced to hurt another

Poison

Amnesia

Mouth stitched shut

Humiliation

RULES

1. Anyone can join, not just whump blogs!

2. NSFW, gore, etc are allowed, just make sure you tag properly and use community labels! If it's not tagged properly and/or no community labels are used, I unfortunately can't reblog it, sorry!

3. Anything can be used for these prompts (art, writing, gifs, etc!) Just as long as they're related to the current prompt!

4. If you like me to find you, tag your posts with #wow birthday whump , #wow birthday whump [day #] , and/or #wow birthday whump alt prompt , along with the prompt name (ie if it's day one and you're writing for the "Bound and gagged" whump, tag as #bound and gagged )

5. HAVE FUN!

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

“We Are TroubleD” Masterpost

Welcome to the "We Are TroubleD" masterpost! Here you will find a list of things related to my OC whump fic "We Are TroubleD"! If any links aren’t working, please let me know!

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Story Overview:

Two college boys have their peaceful lives ripped apart when a ransom-seeking stranger abducts Darius, the son of wealthy parents. The kidnapper gets more than he bargained for when Tristan, Darius’ roommate is home during the invasion. In captivity the friends must lean on each other to survive their harrowing situation and find a way out of their shared hell.

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Rating:

18+ - contains mature themes

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Series content warnings, Chapters, FAQ and more below the cut!

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Content warnings:

Please note that each chapter/entry will have its own individual content warnings listed at the top of its page. Not all of these elements will appear in every chapter (especially the more intense and mature things, those will come much later in the story and will have clear warnings, so you should be safe for a while if you want to avoid that stuff!)

Overall warnings for this story’s content include (but aren’t limited to):

abuse (physical, emotional, and mental), blood, bondage, cages, captivity, crying, distress, drugging, dub-con, emotional whump, fear, forced participation (in sexual and non-sexual acts), gaslighting, hunger/starvation, hurtful language, injuries, insults, kidnapping, manhandling, non-con (both sexual and non-sexual), pet whump, physical violence, shocking, sickness, stress positions, swearing, things that are neither safe nor sane, thirst, threats, restraints

This list will be updated as things come up or need to be removed.  

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Character Profiles:

Coming Soon!

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Canon story:

Coming soon!

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Misc. entries and one-shots (some might be worked into the canon story later):

Listed in chronological order, even if they were posted out of order due to an event/whump prompt.

Saturdays Are For Soup - (Pre-Capture) - Tristan pushes himself too hard and needs a hand from Darius. - Day 9 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

The Capture (Darius' POV) – Darius comes home to an unwelcome surprise after a night out on the town – Day 1 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Come To and Find You - Darius wakes up feeling miserable, and quickly finds himself in a terrifying situation. He isn't alone, though... - Day 11 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

It's Never Enough – Darius and Tristan are in need of sustenance, but their captor likes to play sick games – Day 2 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Painted Into A Corner - Tristan takes a bold stand against their captor and lands both himself and Darius in a heap of trouble. - Day 3 of Whumpmas in July

Below the Belt - Darius tries not to scream as he faces the painful, stinging consequences of his actions - Day 9 of Whumpmas in July

Cut Me Loose – A crazy stroke of luck allows the boys a chance to escape if only they can cut through their bonds. – Day 3 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

A Shocking Offence – Tristan must find help if he hopes to save both Darius and himself. – Day 4 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Feeling Bushed – With their captor so close, Tristan must be very careful to avoid being spotted. – Day 5 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Feeling Bushed - Trailing Behind - You never know who's watching...

A Breathtaking View - Darius is desperate to buy Tristan more time to find help - Day 14 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak no Evil - The captor returns from searching for the escaped Tristan, and Darius is left wondering just what happened to his friend. - Day 8 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

White Out - Darius slowly loses himself mentally, physically, and emotionally. - Day 6 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Reunited and Ignited - Things heat up when Darius and Tristan's reunion does not go how they hoped it would. - Day 15 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Burning For You - Darius has Tristan's back, but who's got his? - Day 13 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Dinner and Unmoving - Tristan is plagued by a food coma while their captor follows his own agenda. - Day 27 of Whumpmas in July

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Alternate Universes (AUs):

Royal AU - "The Relationship That Binds Us" - When Prince Darius is presented with an assistant, the last thing he expects is to fall in love. While earning the servant boy's trust, he fails to see what trouble is brewing right within the castle walls... - Day 10 of WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

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Fun and games:

Ask box trick-or-treating 2024! - Darius and Tristan answered the door on Halloween night for anyone who wanted to visit! Did the guests get tasty treats, or spooky surprises? (Not whumpy, just lighthearted fun!)

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Art:

Coming soon!

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FAQ:

Weren't Tristan and Darius called “T” and “D” before? Yes, for a long time several entries had the boy's names as their stand-in names, which were "T" and "D". I wanted to get the entries that I wrote for WoW's Birthday Whump Event! posted in time for the month that the event was happening, so Tristan and Darius were still nameless when I initially started posting pieces of the story. That is also why you might see comments below entries, my own personal tags, and several other things on this blog referring to the characters as "T" and "D". Their names weren't properly bestowed them until 7/17/2024, even though they had been around on this blog since 4/1/2024.

Does their captor have a name? Yes, but I'm not sure what it is yet. Like Tristan and Darius, I didn't have one in mind when I started writing and posting the event entries. He might get one later, but for now he's just "their captor" or "the man".

How old are the characters in your main story? Darius and Tristan are college age, though Iʻm not sure what specific ages yet. Theyʻre both beyond legal drinking age, and Darius is slightly older than Tristan. Thatʻs all I know for now, as Iʻm still writing the main canon story.  Tentatively I have set Tristan's age at 22, but that is subject to change. They might be older or younger in side fics/AUs. If so, Iʻll state it in the post of the story entry itself.

Why is the “D” capitalized in “We Are TroubleD”? Because the character's initials make up the title of the story! The "T" comes from "Tristan" and the "D" comes from "Darius", therefore, "T"rouble"D"! The "We" is Tristan and Darius, and they are in trouble because they are whump characters.

How often will you update the canon story? Hopefully frequently once I get it off the ground, but you can never really predict that. Iʻm going to try to have as much as I can done of the whole story before I start posting in earnest, so hopefully once it starts going you wonʻt have to wait long!

Can I draw/write about your characters? Sure! Though it might be a bit challenging without references or profiles for them yet. Fingers crossed Iʻll have those made for the future! The one thing I ask is that if you create anything with my characters, please link back to me and donʻt claim them as your own. Thanks!

[3-2-whump]

3-2-Masterlist

Created: 2/3/24

Updated: 11/17/24

Whump Quotes

Quote 1 Art

Quote 2

Quote 3

Quote 4

Quote 5

Whump One Shots (Generic Names)

Tear-Filled Noncon (Mutual!)

Valentine's Day Shopping

Tear-Filled Noncon (Mutual!) Art

The Informant

The Informant, Second Half

Rescue: The Informant, Part Three

Post-Recovery Arc Fluff

Language Barrier Idea

Hidden Injuries/Keeping Secrets/‘Drop the Act’

Eternal Masterlist -Story Complete

Other Projects/Ideas to be Developed

New(Old?) Whump Story Idea

Rinnico Kaa Design

Mermay and MerWhump

Events

WoW Birthday Whump Event:

Days 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

OC Week 2024: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 p1, 5 p2, 6, 7

Azerty’s Mini Comfortember: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Miscellania

Whump Intro

Whump Author Portrait

Whumpy Bingo Sheet

About the Author, or Adoption Trauma and Whump

[keeper-of-all-the-random-things]

WOW Birthday Whump Event Masterlist

C’est finit! 15 days for @whumperofworlds lovely birthday event 🎉

Chronological

1 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 7 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 14 | 15 | Alt 3 | Alt 4 | Alt 5 | Alt 8

By Plot

Charlie has Crap Friends | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

RUIN | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Interlude | art

[walviemort]

how quickly things change

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLING FRIEND @sherlockianwhovian!!!!! Hope you’ve had the most amazing day full of all your favorite things!! And thank you for helping me embrace a side of me I’d hardly let out to play...which means I couldn’t let your birthday pass by without a fun bit of mpreg (with a wee bit of whump!) Hope you enjoy it, love, and keeping being awesome!!!

Summary: The Black Fairy is up to no good, as usual, this time setting her sights on Storybrooke’s favorite True Love couples. She needs the products of their true love—and she’s not patient. For an extra sadistic twist, why not have the guys carry out her bidding? When Killian and Dave are faced with a two-week pregnancy, how do they handle it—and how do they protect their families?

5.2k | Rated T | AO3

“Eat up,” Granny told them in her usual friendly-but-commanding way. And David and Killian weren’t about to argue; they were starved after a night of surveillance, trying to figure out just what the Black Fairy was still up to. At least, with the sleeping curse broken, Snow and David were back to full strength, but that just meant they were working twice as hard to take down this villain and save Emma from whatever fate lay ahead.

Wordlessly and voraciously, the two men dug into their meals as they sat hunched over in a booth. They just needed to eat, and go home and recoup; after a fruitless night, they just wanted to sleep and then come up with another plan.

If they noticed that anything tasted different than usual in their meals, they were too tired to comment on it and chalked it up to fatigue anyways. Once they were done scarfing down breakfast, David tossed some cash on the table, nodded at Granny as they headed out the door, and then drove Killian home. And later in the day, when they were both suffering stomach aches, they just took some antacids and figured it was stress.

What they didn’t see—nor anyone, for that matter—was Granny slipping into the back room behind the kitchen and locking the door behind her, before a swirl of black smoke engulfed her and left the Black Fairy herself standing there. The real Granny lay unconscious, as a result of a sleeping spell, on some sacks of flour in one corner of the room. Gideon stood up from his seat in the opposite corner and approached his grandmother.

“Is it done then?” he asked.

The Black Fairy nodded. “Indeed; everything is going to plan. Soon we’ll have exactly what we need to enact our curse—the product of true love, twice over.”

“Can I ask—why the men?” Gideon wondered, curious.

She shrugged and giggled. “Why not? It’s more of a surprise that way, isn’t it?”

“So what do we do next?”

“Be patient and lay low; in two weeks, we’ll have all we need.” She gave a sinister smile that quickly morphed back into Granny’s. “Let’s get back to work, boy,” she told him from her disguise.

Gideon transformed himself to look like the fry cook and they headed back out to the diner.

A mile away, new life was quickly growing in two unsuspecting bellies—but they’d find out soon enough.

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“You don’t look so hot, mate,” Killian quipped at David a few days later. They were eating breakfast at the loft, trying to find some sense of normalcy despite the ongoing sense of doom. Emma and Snow were doing some wedding planning at the table, but David looked like he was about to lose his meal.

“I must have ate too fast or something,” David brushed off. “Just feeling a bit nauseous.”

“Have any ginger tea around? That’s what we’d always give a seasick sailor.”

“Yeah, I think we have some leftover from when Snow was pregnant; I’ll give it a try.”

When the tea kettle began to hiss a few minutes later, Killian too requested a mug.

“Maybe there’s a stomach bug going around?” David wondered as he sipped his tea.

“Just what we need,” Killian complained.

Their thoughts seemed to be confirmed not an hour later, when both men were dashing for the toilet.

Snow and Emma told them to stay home that day and rest, and made sure they were well stocked with ginger ale and saltines as they went off for the day, taking baby Neal with them. They spent the rest of that day and the following one splitting their time between the bathroom and the couch as the illness held a grip on them, though it started to loosen its hold later in the second day.

“Thank bloody goodness,” Killian sighed as he slumped into bed that night, finally feeling normal again, even if his midsection still felt sore. He was ready to put that behind him and get back to the task at hand.

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The next day, they’d convened at the Swan-Jones house around lunchtime to work on things. Snow was already there when David arrived.

“Why did you change your pants?” she asked when he came in. “Did Neal spit up on your jeans?”

“No, uh,” David stammered, looking down at the track pants he’d changed into that he’d hoped no one would notice. “Uh, they were feeling a little snug today, so I put these on instead.”

“Too many pancakes will do that,” Killian quipped as he set out some sandwiches for lunch.

David rolled his eyes, but tried to take the attention of him and redirect it. “I don’t see you giving Killian any crap for wearing a tshirt instead of his usual getup,” he grumbled at Snow.

Now it was Killian’s turn to blush.

“No, babe, he’s right—are you feeling okay? Is the stomach bug still bothering you?” Emma asked.

“Er, no, just—I may have had a similar problem as Dave, as far as clothes fitting properly,” he explained scratching behind an ear.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Snow said, confused. “You’ve barely been able to hold anything down the last two days; if anything, your clothes should be a little loose.”

“Um,” Emma started, running her hands up and down Killian’s abs. “Then what’s this solid thing in my fiance’s belly?”

Snow turned to David and found the same: something was rounding out his stomach from within, and it had nothing to do with poor diet. “Maybe we should head to the doctors,” she said quietly, worry filling her gaze as she found her husband’s.

Emma silently agreed, hugging Killian close. What the hell was this?

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Whale had quickly determined they’d need to do an ultrasound. David went first. And whatever they thought they were about to see was not what showed up on the sonogram screen.

“That’s…” Emma started, but couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Yeah,” Snow breathed.

Even Killian recognized the image: there was a baby in there. He wrapped his arm around his stomach; was that what he had, too?

David had to stay seated after the revelation, and a few minutes later, the exam on Killian revealed the same: they were both impossibly, inexplicably pregnant.

“From the looks of things, you’re at about 14, 15 weeks,” Whale said. But then he squinted at the screen. “Wait...what?” He stared at it some more, then had an assistant zoom in on the image. “Wow, I can actually see it growing; something is accellerating this—by a lot.”

“What the hell?” Emma murmured.

“Bloody magic,” Killian sighed, staring at the ceiling.

“That’s where I’d put my money,” Whale agreed.

Snow nodded, but her pallor was living up to her name. “Okay, okay...let’s call Regina.”

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They’d barely entered Regina’s mansion when the mayor wrinkled her nose.

“Wow—I can smell the dark magic rolling off of you. What did you boys get into?”

“If we knew, we wouldn’t be here, would we?” Killian snapped back. He wasn’t sure if his short temper was caused by the stress of the situation or the normal emotional fluctuations he knew were part of pregnancy, but he didn’t really care—especially when, now that he knew, he was fairly certain he could feel the fluttering of the fetus inside him.

“Calm down—she’s the only one who can help us!” David yelled at him, similarly distressed. He wrapped an arm around his waist; he was pretty sure he could see his belly growing.

“Everyone just take a breath,” Snow said, oddly calm. “Regina, can you figure this out?”

“Come on; let’s have a seat.” She directed the boys to the sofa in her study, then stood in front of them, one hand extended to each as she magically examined them. Her eyes were closed in concentration and they could only watch as her expression morphed into a furrowed one, then as she raised her brows in surprise before finally opening them.

“Well, damn. That’s all I can say.”

“Uh, you can say more than that, right?” Emma asked, moving to Killian’s side and grabbing his hand.

“I was getting to that,” Regina retorted. “It’s definitely dark magic, but what kind, I’m not sure; I’ve only heard of things like this happening—never seen them. And there is an accellerant, like what you used on Zelena,” Regina explained, nodding at Emma, who suddenly looked sheepish. “But a much lower concentration.”

“So...do you have a due date?” Snow wondered.

“My guess? It looks like it’s going at about 20 times the normal speed, which means the entire duration would be 2 weeks-ish—roughly 3 weeks of a normal pregnancy per day. Did the doctor say how far along?”

“About 15 weeks,” David said quietly.

“So it’s been 5 days,” Regina assessed. “So, you’ve got 9 more or so to go.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian cursed. What the hell was going on?

“Emma, you need to get these two into a safe location. Someone is targeting you for some reason. Wherever you go, set up wards as soon as you get there,” Regina told them, taking command of the situation. “Snow, you’re with me. I think we need to pay a Dark One a visit.”

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A few hours later, everything was settled for the Nolans to be spending the next several days at Killian and Emma’s house. Neal was settled into one of the spare rooms, while another was reserved to become a new nursery. Emma honestly never thought they’d get the chance for that, and obviously not in the way it was happening, but as terrifying as this all was, she couldn’t deny—she was a little excited, too.

The guys were squabbling over what to order on pizza—Killian wanted anchovies, David wanted olives, which was a change from their normal preferred pepperoni—when Snow and Regina arrived.

“Well?” Emma asked, setting out plates on the dining table.

Regina huffed. “Gold says he knows nothing, and unless it has to do with Gideon, he’s not concerned. He didn’t say it wasn’t his mother, though, and that’s my only theory at the moment.”

“Why would she do this, though?” David wondered aloud.

“Because she’s evil and sadistic?” Killian offered.

“I’m guessing the truth lies somewhere in there,” Regina mediated. “There’s one thing I can say, though, that I forgot to earlier: those are your babies.”

“Like...ours?” Snow asked, wrapping an arm around David’s side.

“Yeah. Those kids have ‘true love’ written all over them. So it may not be the full ‘why’, but it’s definitely part.”

“Thanks, Regina,” Emma said, giving Killian a hug. “You want to stay for pizza?”

“Ew. No. I have lasagna waiting at home.”

“Okay, have fun with that then.”

“I will. And guys?” she added, eyes flitting between Killian and David. “Take care of yourselves, and good luck.”

“We will.” “Thanks, luv.”

Regina headed out, and the four of them settled in to what was going to be a new normal for the next several days.

“To new adventures,” Snow offered as a toast, albeit tentatively.

The other three mumbled it back, but as they quietly ate, they began to realize just how dramatic a ride they were in for.

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“Say ‘cheese’!” Snow said with forced cheer.

“Cheese,” was the less-enthusiastic response from the guys.

They were standing back-to-back against a blank wall in the living room with their shirts lifted up to reveal the slight curve of their stomachs. For two men who’d always prided themselves on their looks, it felt awkward to be revealing themselves this way, even if they knew what it was.

“Come on, you two,” Snow complained. “Yeah, it’s weird and it’s probably gonna suck, but 10 years from now, we’re going to want to have this documented. Play along?” She said it like a question, but they both knew it was a demand, so they put on some smiles and posed. “Okay; let’s try to do that morning, noon, and night.”

“Seriously?” Killian whined.

“Just do it,” David said under his breath.

And so began the first day of their strange journey. The plan was for the boys to stay at home with Neal while the girls kept things as normal as possible. Snow came by at lunch to check in, and Granny stopped by in the afternoon with some snacks to get them through; they’d told her given that she was one of the few people in town they trusted. Everyone else was just told they were fighting off the flu.

By the end of the first day, Killian knew he was going to have trouble making it through. His ankles hurt and already his tshirt was ready to pull taut against his growing stomach. David wasn’t much better off—his back was aching from the combination of everything going on in his body and Neal’s refusal to be put down that day.

“I wish there was some way to make this a little more...interesting,” he complained to Killian. “I can’t even have a beer, dammit.”

“I’d say this is plenty interesting already,” Killian answered, hand resting low on his belly, not far from where he could feel intense flutters within. “But...perhaps we could set up some wagers?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Who has the biggest belly? Who goes into labor first? Something like that?”

“You’re on, man.”

So, when Snow took their photos that night, they started keeping track of circumference, too—if only to have numerical evidence of all the changes going on.

Their bellies were tied at the start of the next morning, but by nighttime—at what would be 21 weeks in a normal pregnancy—Killian had pulled ahead by a couple centimeters.

But David had more exciting news. “Oh!” he exclaimed, resting his hand on the curve of his stomach. “Snow, come here!”

“What is it?” she asked, rushing over.

“Feel!” David grabbed her hand and put it next to his.

“Oh—oh my god! It’s kicking!” Snow was grinning. “Wow, it’s so fast—faster than these other two were,” she said, nodding at Emma, who was holding Neal.

“I mean, it should be, right?” Emma said.

Killian was woken in the middle of the night by what he had to assume was the same fast-paced wiggling in his own belly—and promptly woke Emma up, too.

------------------------

Their growing stomachs quickly revealed another problem: they were going to outgrow their clothing soon, probably by the next day if not before then.

“I’ll see what I can find in the shops in town,” Emma offered. “But...they don’t exactly make male maternity wear.”

“Maybe some of my old tops would fit Killian?”

“Maybe; just leave the dresses at home.”

“Obviously. Though he could probably rock them.”

“I think I’ll leave that one to you, milady,” Killian quipped back. By that night, he was definitely nearing capacity in his tshirts and was eyeing David’s, hoping to take it when he outgrew them.

“Look at you boys,” Granny gushed. “You carry it all out in front of you, Hook; and Charming—what a cute bump!”

They both blushed as she handed over the bag of pastries, but it was kind of comforting to hear such normal reactions.

Now that the babies had started moving, it seemed like they never stopped; it was probably due to the accellerated nature of their pregnancies, but it grew old rather quickly (as did their frequent trips to the rest room).

“I mean, at least we know they’re growing,” David decided in the middle of the 9th day—somewhere around 26 weeks. “I know that this all started with some dark magic, but I already love this one.”

“Me too, mate. I’ve...I’ve worried that Emma and I would never get this. Whatever lies ahead, at least we have this.” Lovingly, he traced his hand over the growing curve of his belly.

After his shower the next day, Killian was gazing at his reflection. It looked so odd—granted, he already knew that from Snow’s continued documentation (and he still had the lead in circumference), but there was also something somehow perfect about it. He knew that, given the choice, he’d willingly do this if that was what it took for them to have a child. But in the current situation, he only worried for the future.

And then he turned to the side and his tune quickly changed. Nevermind, this monster was destroying his body.

He was in a foul mood when he slumped down in a chair for breakfast. “What’s got you down?” Snow asked from her perch at the stove, making eggs.

“Oh, nothing; just realizing that beauty is temporary and my body will never again be the same.”

She turned down the burner and moved the eggs to the counter. “You’ve got stretch marks, huh?”

“Aye.”

“Do you want to see mine? I’ve got to imagine you’ve seen Emma’s.”

“Yes, I have—and no, you don’t have to. Just...it’s jarring.”

Snow set a plate down in front of him. “I get that. But you’re both doing so well; you can do this.”

“I sure hope so.”

David followed a few minutes later with similar grumbles. Snow wasn’t as gentle with him. “Try dealing with them from two babies!”

----------------------------------

Ten days into this ordeal, still no one had seen or heard from the Black Fairy in weeks. In reverse of that, Emma’s visions and tremors had yet to abate. She woke every night whimpering at the dreams that haunted her, and though she tried to hide it from Killian, he picked up on everything right away.

Though he was into his second trimester and it made it harder for him to hold and comfort her the way he wanted to, he did his best, and she seemed to glean some comfort from the constantly moving baby within him.

Late at night at the end of the 11th day, she’d woken again and Killian had brought her into his side as much as he could; their joined hands lay on top of his round belly.

“I’m scared,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“I know, love; me too,” he admitted.

“I’m so worried—about you, about the kid—about...that I might not be able to be here for this kid, and I’ll leave Henry…” He felt a tear wet the fabric of his (well, Dave’s) shirt, and knew his own would be joining it soon—damn these hormones.

“My darling, if I have anything to say about it, that won’t happen. I won’t stop until we can have the future we’ve fought for and dreamed of.”

“I know, I know; but this complicates things—we have someone else to think about now,” she countered, tracing his stomach.

“It does, yeah; but have hope—we’ll figure this out.”

“You sound like my mom.”

“A wise woman.”

“Yeah, she is.”

--------------

The sun rose and fell on the 12th day, and it seemed like their babies were now in a sprint to the finish line; both bellies grew a few inches just in one day. When David flopped down on their bed that night, massaging the globe that was his abdomen, his anxieties were racing. For one, they still had Emma’s fate hanging over their head; two, he was exhausted from looking after Neal while this new baby was playing football with his kidneys; and three, they only had a little more than a day left in this ordeal. He and Killian had done their best to get the nursery ready here, and he knew Emma and Snow had set up an extra crib back at the loft. Belle had brought over some of the baby things she hadn’t gotten to use on Gideon for Emma & Killian, and they hadn’t gotten rid of any of Neal’s stuff yet, so everyone would probably be set.

It was just...a lot.

He sighed heavily as Snow came in and settled on the bed next to him. “What was that for? Kick to the bladder?” She started to massage his belly; her touch was heavenly on his strained muscles.

“No. Just...everything. Emma, and Neal, and this one...how are we gonna do this?”

“Together, of course.”

He scoffed a bit. “Yeah, but I’m the only one who’ll be giving birth here and Snow...I’m not sure I can do it.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “If I could do it twice, you can do it once.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not that; I’m...I’m not as strong as you are, Snow. I don’t know how I’ll get through it.”

“Hey.” Her tone was surprisingly stern. “You are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. And you know I’ll be there right at your side; you’ve got nothing to worry about—I promise.”

“Well, okay. But only because you promised.”

----------------------

Things were tense the next day, knowing that the babies could come at literally any moment. Emma and Snow stayed home and hovered over the guys nervously, jumping at any noise or movement from them. They’d both been experiencing some Braxton-Hicks-like contractions over the last day or so, but no one knew what to expect with this.

Killian still had the advantage by several centimeters in their belly circumference competition; though it had only been days, he already couldn’t remember what his feet looked like and was sure the way his large, round stomach was straining against David’s shirt looked absolutely ridiculous. But he did get an odd comfort from hugging his belly and feeling the way his baby still moved about, even if the way he or she was now resting low on his hips made it difficult to move with any ease or speed.

David was honestly surprised that Killian’s belly was bigger, because with as large as he felt, he was sure he’d win that challenge. And given the way he’d been addicted to anything sugary or salty over the last couple weeks, he knew he’d probably done some damage to his body that had nothing to do with this kid. He had to admit, though, that he hadn’t completely hated this; it wasn’t anything he ever expected, and having two kids so close in age was going to be an adventure in its own right, but feeling and seeing this one grow inside him was, honestly, really cool.

Late in the afternoon—approaching the 39-week mark—both men kept shifting in their seats uncomfortably.

“Killian, do you think it’s time?” Emma asked, bringing him a tall glass of ice water; he was sweating a bit, but no more than he had been the last couple days.

“I’m really not sure,” he answered, taking a long sip. “I guess we wait and see?”

David, who had been wincing on and off all day, suddenly groaned and doubled over. “Well, I’m not. I think...I think my water just broke.”

“Oh, shit,” Emma cursed, and Snow ran in from the kitchen to inspect. One look at his (size XXXL) sweatpants told her all she needed to know.

“Yup. You’re in labor.”

A minute later, Killian did the same thing, crying out in pain.

“Shit, you too?” Emma asked?

“Seems so, love,” Killian said through a wince.

Of course, there was a knock at the door just then. Emma fussed over the guys while Snow ran to get it.

She threw open the door in her panic. “Granny, hi; now isn’t a good time,” she greeted the old wolf. “They both just went into labor.”

“Oh?” Granny seemed surprised, but oddly not stressed—or even remotely like herself. “Well, isn’t that perfect.”

“What?” Snow was suddenly very confused, especially as Granny barged past her to the living room (that couch was definitely going to need to be replaced).

“I don’t think they need bearclaws right now, Granny; you know anything about being a midwife?” Emma asked as she placed a cool cloth on each of their foreheads.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” But it wasn’t Granny’s voice. Four pairs of eyes pointed at Granny, who was covered in black smoky magic and revealed her true self: the Black Fairy.

Emma and Snow stared in shock, while the guys were attempting to stand and fight.

“Oh, sit down, boys—you don’t want to harm the babies now, do you?” The fairy pushed them back down on the sofa with her magic. “I’m afraid they won’t do me any good if anything bad happens,” she continued. “I need two products of true love for my plan to work; no less.” Then she glanced at the girls. “However, I can’t risk you two meddling, so…” With a wave of her hand, she whisked herself and the men away.

“Oh, I’m gonna kill her,” Emma yelled, already making for the door. They needed help and backup, as fast as they could.

“Just let me get a shot in, too,” Snow followed.

---------------------

When the smoke cleared, the three of them were in a cave—in the mines, if David had to guess. Weak torchlight shined above; he could see Killian next to him clearly, but that was it.

“Well, I better leave you two to it, then,” the Black Fairy said. “Not that I think you’re going to be able to escape, but just in case…” She waved her hand again, and shackles appeared on their ankles, connected to the wall. “Happy laboring! I’ll be back to collect those babies in a few hours. Scream if you need help! Tata!” And then she was gone.

“Bloody...buggering...hell,” Killian panted, tugging on the chain to no avail. “Got any ideas, mate?”

“No,” David breathed, which he was doing heavily as he gripped his large bump. “I think...this one’s coming fast.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but—” He gritted his teeth in pain. “Damn, does it hurt.”

“I’ve got you, Dave,” Killian told him, holding out his hand. David took it, and together they labored, squeezing and embracing each other through their arduous—but fast—contractions.

It became obvious that David’s labor was progressing quicker than Killian’s, though. “I think I need to push,” Dave said in a tired, strained voice.

“Okay; we can do this,” Killian said, though he supposed he was comforting himself as much as David.

As carefully as possibly, they got David’s pants off and sure enough, the baby was crowning. “I can see the head; push!”

David was yelling and the torches were flickering, but after a few quick pushes, the baby was in Killian’s hand and brace; the hook had been left at home.

“It’s a girl,” Killian said, smiling, as he put her in David’s arms.

He watched with happy tears in his eyes as David reclined on the stone wall and fawned over the tiny new life in his arms, who was crying something fierce. But he could feel his own time drawing near, the contractions becoming nearly constant and pressure increasing on his pelvis.

David was wrapping his new daughter up in his discarded pants when he noticed Killian’s distress. “Your turn?”

Killian nodded. “My turn.”

As quick as they could manage, they reversed their positions, David carefully setting his baby on a flat part of the rocky floor, and guided Killian through it like he had just done for him.

But this one wasn’t coming out as easy. “Gentle pushes, man; you can do this.”

“No, I can’t,” he cried. What if he died here? Or the baby?

“Yes, you can; I won’t let you not.”

With one last, fierce cry, Killian pushed harder than he thought possible—and heard the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“It’s also a girl,” David told him as he put the squealing infant in his arms. She was so perfect and so precious. David handed him his pants, too, and he swaddled the babe as best he could.

For a long while, they sat huddled together, shaking a bit from the cold air—they’d put their pants back on and wrapped the babies in their shirts—but mainly staring at their little ones. Eventually, though, David wondered, “Now what?”

“Well, if the Black Fairy hasn’t come to claim them, I suppose that’s good.”

“And what do we do if she does?”

“Fight like hell.”

“Well, duh. But with what?”

They were discussing battle tactics and keeping an ear open for anything while the babies slept. For a long time, nothing happened, but then, they finally heard it—footsteps.

Gingerly, they both rose to their feet, clutching the babies close. As the sound grew, they could tell it was more than one person. “Bloody hell,” Killian muttered; there was no way they’d be able to defend themselves against this many.

But then the steps came into their cavern, and they relaxed immediately: Snow and Emma ran in, quickly followed by Regina, Belle, and Granny, armed with her crossbow.

“Don’t worry; it’s really me,” she said gruffly, then turned and guarded the entrance. “I owe her a crossbolt to the skull for tying me up like that.”

Snow and Emma rushed to their respective True Love’s sides. “Oh my god, there they are,” Emma gushed.

“You guys did it; I told you,” Snow said through her tears.

“How did you get in?” David asked. “How long have we been here?”

“Only a few hours,” Belle said. “When I heard what happened, I had to come along. I...I made a deal with her; she’ll let you go free.”

“But what about Gideon?” Killian asked; he hated to think what his friend might have given up.

“Don’t worry about it; Rumple and I will deal with that. I wasn’t going to let her take you babies.”

Killian took a step to go give her a hug, but nearly stumbled when he did. “We owe you, love.”

“Just take care of them, okay?” She closed the distance between them to give him an embrace, and then Emma did the same.

“Okay, now that this reunion is done, can we get out of here? I see four people who probably need some serious medical attention,” Regina called out.

“Lead the way, Regina,” David replied, and she poofed them all to the hospital with a single wave of her hand.

--------------------------------

Hours later, with clean bills of health for the new dads and the babies, both families were squeezed into a booth at Granny’s. Snow and Emma had their respective new daughters in their arms, while their tired, sore boys were basically propped against the window. They were sure their now-soft bellies would never be flat again, and certain that they’d never catch up on sleep, but as they looked on the sweet faces in their loves’ arms, they knew it was all worth it.

The rest of town was gathered in celebration—both for the new little princesses, and that Granny was back; the quality of food had really taken a nosedive.

And, with the proper pomp that such a celebration deserved, the babies were presented to the kingdom properly: Princess Ruth Nolan, and Hope Swan-Jones.

The diner erupted in applause, Henry gushed over his new sister and aunt, and even Regina seemed to shed a happy tear. But the immediate families themselves were just happy to be through their latest adventure.

Despite the tumult of the day, spirits were high.

“I’m usually the one preaching the optimism,” Snow commented as she looked at Emma and Killian, both grinning. “What changed?”

“There’s no way the Black Fairy can beat us now,” Emma replied. “Not when we have Hope.”

thanks for reading! Go give @sherlockianwhovian some birthday love! tagging a few others who might like this:  @sancocnutclub @ashley-knightingale @jennjenn615@wyntereyez @superadam54 @killianjonesownsmyheart1

[whumped-by-glitter]

Challenges/Events:

WOW's Birthday Whump:

A series about a team having a really awful month. Will the bad luck ever end? Stay tuned to find out!

Day 1: Bound/Gagged/"I have your loved one...."

Day 2: Day 2: Starvation / Thirst / “Please…”

WOW's Birthday Event Day 3: Crying / Parting Words Regret / “Why…

Day 4: Electrocution / Waterboarded / "Anything but that!"

Day 5: Scream / Captivity / “NO!” Bonus Alt Prompt: Mouth Stitched shut

Day 6: Nonhuman whumpee / Reluctant Whumper / "Run!" Bonus Alt Prompt: Forced to Hurt

Day 7: Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / “Is that blood?!”

[i-eat-worlds]

Wow Birthday Whump Masterlist

Aaron, Phoenix, Kai, and HAL belong to @pigeonwhumps

Day 1: Kidnapping / Bound and gagged / "I have your loved one."

Day 2: Starvation / Thirst / "Please..."

Day 3: Crying / Parting Words Regret / "Why...?"

Day 4:Electrocution / Waterboarded / "Anything but that!"

Day 5: Alt. Bridal Carry / NO!"

Day 6: Nonhuman whumpee / Reluctant Whumper / "Run!"

Day 7: Bloodied knuckles / Wounded / "Is that blood?!"

Day 8: Stranded / Team whump / "Is anyone there?!"

Day 9: Aftermath of rescue / Sickness / "You're burning up."

Day 10: Hypothermia / Heat flashes / "Bind them."

Day 11: Alt. Forced to Hurt A Loved One

Day 12: Magic exhaustion / Collapsed / "So tired..."

Day 13: Natural Disaster / Shock Collar / “Shut Up!”

Day 14: Guilt / Chased / "I bought you time, use it!"

Day 15: Hidden injury / Outnumbered / "I'm sorry

[i-rove-rock-n-roll]

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE

“You feel that rumbling?” “I thought it was my stomach.” He looked up expectantly. “Is it lunch yet?” “It's rock n roll. In your gut. In your shoes. In your soul.”

............not so bad

Emma Nuwell’s birthday was a disaster. Her uncle, it seemed, had already drunk the entire bar, leaving her cousins whining and griping about having to actually chip in and go grab some more liquor. Once they were gone, the clown caught fire. Apparently, the younger cousins, snickering, swapped the seltzer bottles with the previously missing alcohol. Emma stared at what had become of her backyard for a long moment, then turned around and went to go find her mom. She was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on Emma’s cake, her hair half up and half down, her face decorated in a mixture of makeup and frosting. Then Emma did a double-take.

“Did you just drug my cake?” Her mom didn’t even look up. “Like you were gonna eat it.” “I might have,” Emma kicked at the scuffed tile, wondering if the day could possibly get any worse. “If you hadn't done that.” “Sweetie,” her mom explained, with a patience Emma felt was wasted on anyone but the dog. “You're diabetic. And Lord knows your fat uncle is gonna get what's coming to him when he takes a bite.” 

...wait, WHAT

“Hey mom, when will people fear me?” “Never” “I'm not scary?” “Nope.” The P popped from her lips, and he looked at her, disappointed.   “I'll be scary one day,” he vowed, a determined scrunch overtaking his features. “so scary that you die of shock.” “Keep dreaming kid.” And that cemented his desire to become a supervillain

.....okaaaaaaay

If anyone had walked into his room at that moment they would have walked right back out. He was talking to a squirrel. Fighting with it actually. 

“Of all the days to be picky,” he huffed, glaring at the furry creature sitting on his dresser. The squirrel glared back, it's beady eyes set in a look of defiance.

...WHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYY do I get stuck with the crazies?

What's past is past, and if you think you can change it, then you're an ass.

...........I have...no words

“I feel like my mind is 10 steps ahead of my body yet completely in the dark.” 

“That would be the 3 cans of red bull you just guzzled down, right after you finished that can of mountain dew and those 3 twinkies.”

....You are giving me heartburn stop that

Phineas Lancaster scientist extraordinaire? How bout Phineas Lancaster I'll punch you in the effing face

Phineas, my man, my dude. Go to therapy. You need it

We live in a world with at least one church on every streetcorner. 5 on many. And everyone is a sinner.

Wow. I’m shocked. Something deep--

Sky. Tree. Tree. Ground. Ow. Tree. Little sky. Tree. Double ow. Triple ow. Ground. Tree. Ground. Ground ground...WHUMP. he groaned, flat against the earth, no longer spinning through the sky, despite what his eyes told him.

 Nevermind

The devil dogged his footsteps. Well, not literally, cause the devil wasn't a dog (at this time) and had actually been lurking outside his window rather than walking right behind him, but you get the picture.

Do I even want to know?

“You should've called it the SS Going Nowhere.”

harsh

They began to push the boulder, but it barely even wobbled. Frowning, they caught sight of a pebble at their naked feet, and picked it up. As if remembering a command, or a far off story from long ago, they tossed it over their shoulder. What resulted was another. They were delighted. Maybe they could move the Boulder now. But again the rock did not move. More pebbles had appeared until they finally began to scoot the mass before them to the curve. As they pushed, more pebbles appeared, which they threw, and more people joined. Ad the rock was shifted by straining muscles and more people joined the queue, it seemed as if the rock was getting smaller. Or maybe there were too many people. But carrying such a heavy load up such a steep hill was a burden, and so, more people were created. As the stone shrank, or the people just grew, the hill was as steep as ever if not more so. Yet none had ever stopped to think what would happen if they reached the top. They just thought there was one.

WTF!!!???!?!?!?

“How much prison time would I get if I just punched this guy in the face?”

...

The bomb exploded. Luckily for Mame, he wasn't anywhere near the blast, but the hundreds of chickens left inside the warehouse unattended, well.... they got fried to a crisp.

“You're supposed to be finding out who planted the bomb, not eating the victims.”

“This isn’t a victim,” Detective Mame said, affronted. “It’s KFC.” He brandished the red and white bucket in the officer’s face. “Want some?”

Classy. Real classy Mame.

Simon first met death when he was 7 yrs old. He didn't mean to die at the time, as he was busy pilfering the leftovers out of some person’s fridge. He'd broken into the house and was unaware of the guard dog behind the corner until he shut the fridge door and went to turn around. Poor kid never had a chance before Fluffy sunk his teeth into him.

Ouch! WTF Fluffy?

Opened an old writing file and found this-

wTF does this even mean, Past me?? 

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Reese vs Natali: Duel to the Death (Magican's Bait, Part 5)

WoW Birthday Whump Day 12: Magic Exhaustion / Collapsed / "So tired..."

Whumpril Day 4 (Swaying) Day 9 (Self-doubt), Day 26 (“How could you?”)

WoW Birthday Event Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

first part | <- previous part | next part ->

TW: duel, knife wounds, magic whump, death, blood, blood loss, dizziness, collapse, fainting

Context: Reese duels Natali. The Stalker may have runes on her side, but Reese has a hidden ace up her sleeve that might win her the day. But at what cost?

Reese didn’t give Natali time to react to the—admittedly very shocking—news that she was not, in fact, Caiya Ebony. She closed the distance between them in three leaping strides and went on the offensive, going for the Stalker’s throat.

Natali ducked backward, her self-satisfied expression wiped from her face. She fumbled with her knives and barely managed to draw one before Reese drove her own blade into Natali’s shoulder.

She screamed in pain and fury, weapon falling from numb fingers as the injured arm went limp. Her other hand went for the second knife, and she swung out, trying to catch Reese in the side.

Reese yanked out her knife and twisted away. Natali’s blade sliced through the fabric of her jacket and left a shallow scratch, but it was better than the alternative. Reese hissed out through her teeth and retreated, allowing the Stalker to make the next move.

Blood streamed down Natali’s arm, and her eyes burned with rage. “You’ll regret that, child,” she hissed. Before Reese could react, the Stalker spoke a rune.

The wind stirred around Reese, lightly toying with her hair, but nothing else happened. Reese grinned at Natali’s shocked expression. “Was that supposed to impress me? You’re gonna have to try harder than that!”

“How?!” The Stalker screeched, repeating the rune as Reese charged at her again. She retreated, going on the defensive as Reese chased her around the room.

Reese didn’t have the energy to spare for an answer. She lunged, knife point intent on Natali’s heart, but Natali knocked aside the blade. Natali tried to counterattack, but Reese blocked the thrust and used her free hand to grab Natali’s wrist.

The Stalker’s eyes were filled with pain, fear, and desperation. She spoke another rune, one Reese recognized all too well. The familiar weight settled on Reese’s chest, and she faltered, struggling to breathe. Natali seized the opportunity and kicked Reese in the stomach with rune-enhanced strength.

The force of the kick threw Reese halfway across the room. Time seemed to briefly slow as the ground came up to meet her. The impact sent fireworks through Reese’s shoulder and back, and she rolled another few meters before stopping. Her knife clattered to the ground, out of reach.

Natali staggered across the room, swaying from blood loss or rune exhaustion. Possibly both. Reese pulled herself to her feet and raised her fists. The closeness of the pit where she’d accidentally tossed Caiya’s cowl unnerved her, and the hairs on her neck prickled.

Natali still had her dagger, but she was wounded. Even hand-to-hand, Reese had the upper hand. Didn’t she?

“I don’t know the extent of your protection, little magician,” Natali hissed, knife raised. She was only a few steps away now. “You may have put up a good fight. But you’re finished, now. Yield, and I’ll let the prince go.”

“Liar,” Reese spat, “and you’re right. You don’t know the extent of my protection. But you’re also wrong. I’m no magician.”

With those words, Reese lunged, ducking under Natali’s swing and diving for her legs, tackling the Stalker to the ground. Pain erupted in her lower back, causing her to cry out, but Reese pressed on, punching Natali in the throat.

Natali gagged and let go of the knife. Reese didn’t hesitate, yanking the weapon out of her back and driving it in between the Stalker’s ribs into her heart. Natali’s eyes widened in shock, and she sagged. Reese didn’t release her hold on the knife until her breathing slowed… slowed… stopped.

Reese exhaled shakily and rose to her feet, retrieving her own knife from the ground. She left Natali’s knife where it was. Head swimming, she staggered across the room to the prince, who stared mutely at the Stalker’s corpse. Reese sliced through his bonds, a simple matter with the rune-engraved knife, and pulled him to his feet. He wobbled on legs weakened during his imprisonment, and they supported each other as they crossed the room to the tunnel where she’d entered.

“How…” Damian whispered when they entered the tunnel, “how could you? How could you resist her runes?”

“It’s simple, really,” Reese muttered, trying to ignore how the floor pitched and heaved beneath their unsteady feet. “I’m a Draigo.”

Damian froze midstep, and Reese nearly tripped over his feet. “A Draigo?! But I thought they were all—”

“Not all of them, your Highness. Just most of them.” She tugged his arm, and he started walking—or, more accurately, lurching—down the tunnel again.

“...so that’s why you’re here,” he mused, “instead of Caiya Ebony.”

“Caiya Ebony is a coward. I’m here because a friend asked me to.” Each step was like another knife in the wound in her back. Was she supporting Damian, or was Damian supporting her? They needed to get out of here.

“Ah.” Silence stretched between them for several steps before the prince spoke again. “Was it the Watcher?”

Reese nodded wordlessly. Was the tunnel getting darker?

“You said your name was Reese Takari, right? Like the diplomat?”

“I’m…” Reese mumbled, “I’m his daughter…. We should be… getting… close….”

Damian paused, concern evident. “Are you alright? Reese?”

The tunnel seemed to blur, and a strange numbness settled over her, like when her limbs fell asleep after sitting on them for too long. She didn’t have time to respond before her legs buckled under her weight.

But she didn’t hit the floor. “Reese? Reese!”

Damian’s voice sounded far away like he was at the other end of the tunnel. Reese wanted to respond, but darkness flooded over her, sending her into the depths of oblivion.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @whumpril

(if you want to be tagged in my writing please lmk!)

[whumperofworlds]

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 5

Scream / Captivity / "NO!"

Good luck everyone, and loving everyone's entries!!!

[whumpty-dumpty-doo]

We Are TroubleD - "Feeling Bushed"

Written as a part of @whumperofworlds' WoW's Birthday Whump Event!

Day 5 (my chosen prompts are bolded): Scream / Captivity / "NO!"

---

Event page | My event participation masterpost (coming soon) | “We Are TroubleD” Masterpost | First | Previous | Next

---

Content Warnings: Captivity, difficulty breathing, electric shock, exhaustion, fear, injuries (minor), losing hope, manhandling, swearing, recapture, restraints (bound and gagged), struggling, temporary loss of mobility, worry

---------------------------------------------------

            It was mental agony waiting for his limbs to wake up from the shock of the fence. Tristan lay on his back in the dirt trying not to fall to pieces as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He was too out in the open. If he couldn’t get out of there immediately, he was going to be seen, no question about it.

            The person making their way up the path wasn’t the farmer coming to investigate like Tristan had hoped. The gruff, threatening voice calling out to him was unmistakable- it was their captor coming after him. The boy’s scream had given away his general location, though he didn’t remember making the noise.

            Tristan stifled a sob, biting his bottom lip to keep it contained. This was hopeless. He couldn’t move. How was he supposed to hide, flee, or—if it came down to it—fight?

            It couldn’t end like this. One stupid mistake on his part… He was so close to getting help. He couldn’t let Darius down… His friend was still back there in that psycho’s basement in need of rescue. What had happened to him once the guy found him sitting all by himself? Or had Darius managed to get away, too? Please… please God… let Dair have escaped, too…

            He closed his eyes again, wanting more than anything to run, but being virtually immobile. Tristan slowed his breathing and tried to control how much his chest rose and fell, holding his breath for as long as he could.

            The heavy, slow, prowling clomp, clomp, clomp of the captor’s boots drew closer. Maybe when he found Tristan he would put two and two together- see him laying motionless by the electric fence and think he had died from getting electrocuted. Would he leave him there to rot? If so then Tristan could play possum long enough for him to drive off again.

            The odds weren’t great, but they weren’t zero, either. That was all he could hope for.

            The boots were right on him now and Tristan squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, focusing all of his energy on holding his breath as he lay in the scraggly wild vegetation. The man stopped right beside him, just a few feet away, and Tristan tried not to cry as he accepted that it was over. He had been found.

            There was a beat of silence, followed by a deep, disappointed sigh from Tristan’s hunter.

            “Where the fuck are you?” the man’s voice growled, and under his breath he muttered something about how he “swore the sound came from around here” and “stupid deer”.

            Tristan’s heart skipped a beat. He… hadn’t seen him?

            Oh my god. The mud he had smeared all over himself… His camouflage had worked. It had actually worked. He wrestled his face into a neutral expression and kept his eyes shut, too scared to move a muscle as the man set off again. It was only after he no longer heard the distant footsteps that he ventured another attempt at moving his limbs. Quietly, slowly, he bent his arm…

            … it moved. Praise Heaven, it moved. His legs responded too. He could get out of here.

            The man was a farther distance down into the woods, but not gone yet. Tristan cracked open one eye to see if he could see him, but only saw the clearing and the fence. He was going to chance it, to try to get back to the cover of the forest. Maybe he could properly bury himself in leaves or clamber up a tree or something until the guy left.

            Tristan took one more cautious look around, then rolled himself over and pushed up off the ground. His limbs were shaky, but they held his weight well enough. When he got to his feet, he made a mad dash over to a nearby thicket and practically fell into it, though he was trying his best to not make too much noise or movement.

            A thick, overgrown bush was before him, and he dove under it, ignoring the scratches he got from the pokey branches and thorns. The pain didn’t matter; He had to be hidden. It was safer than being out in the open for sure. Every single small noise he made felt like a nuclear bomb to him though.  

            He got his front half situated as best as he could, but his legs were still sticking out straight behind him, out in the open. He was just about to pull them in when he froze.

            Clompclompclompclomp

            Son of a— the man was coming back with increased speed. Tristan had rustled around too much getting into the bush. Maybe he should have stayed put where he was.

            Damn it. God damn it…

            He was fine. He was going to be fine. He was still camouflaged, and now he had better coverage, too. He wouldn’t be seen. He was mostly hidden by the bush. He could just lay still again and hope that his exposed legs blended in enough to hide them.

            CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP…

            Silence. Once again, his hunter had stopped a few feet away from Tristan’s hiding spot and surveyed the area, keeping a sharp eye out for the boy that he assumed would be upright and perhaps tucked behind a tree trunk.

            Shaky breaths. Small, terrified, shaky breaths. Tristan had to keep it together… He only hoped that he was keeping his trembling in check and that it wasn’t making the leaves on the bush shake as well.

            His whole body clenched when the man let out another furious shout, coupled with a hard stomp into the earth. It seemed like maybe he was giving up. Please, please, please let him be giving up…

            “YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER, KID. I’LL FIND YOU, AND THERE’LL BE HELL TO PAY! IF NOT FOR YOU, THEN FOR YOUR LITTLE SHIT OF A BOYFRIEND!”

            Tristan’s heart hammered so hard that the sound in his ears was giving him a headache. So, Darius was still his prisoner. The threat of him being hurt was almost too much to handle. Tristan had to save him. He was going to save him. If only this guy would leave!

            The monkey’s paw curled.

            The man did turn to leave, pushing through the tall grass that he had waded into trying to investigate the sound of the bush rustling. They were so close to each other, and neither of them had any idea of just how close.

            The camouflage had worked again.

            Too well, in fact.

            The man tripped and stumbled over something soft. Something squishy. Something organic. Something alive. Tristan’s legs.

            Oh fuck.

            “… Got’cha.”

            All bets were off. There was no more sneaking around or being quiet. Tristan scrambled to pull his legs under the bush with the rest of his body, but the man instantly seized onto the ankle closest to him and pulled hard and fast, yanking him a good way out from his hiding spot.

            Tristan screamed bloody murder and dug his fingernails into the dirt, blindly kicking at the man with his free leg. He reached desperately for any strong-looking branches that he could grab; Anything to anchor him. Frantic fingers locked around a decently thick one and he held on for dear life as he struggled and kicked and prayed.

            “Don’t fucking fight!” the man snarled and gave Tristan another strong tug.

            Like hell he wouldn’t fight!!

            “HELP!!!” Tristan yelled. “SOMEBODY HELP!!! PLEASE!! HELP ME!!!” he managed to land a hard kick on the man, who took the hit with a grunt.

            “You’ll regret that.” he growled.

            Tristan gasped as his other leg was caught and held, ensnared in the man’s grasp. Now all his kicking did was make him flop around like a beached mermaid, but he’d be damned if he’d stop fighting.

            The force of the next jerk on his legs actually lifted his body up from the ground. Only his grip on the branch that he clung to kept him beneath the bush.

            “HELP!!! PLEASE!!! ANYONE! HELP!!” Who was he kidding? He wasn’t Snow White. The forest creatures weren’t coming to save him. No one was.

            Tears stung Tristan’s eyes and he cried out in desperate, pleading whines. He pulled with all his might against the man, trying to inch himself back under the bush fully, but the tug of war was intense, especially because he was the rope. His bicep muscles were quaking. It was all too much. He wasn’t sure much longer he could bear this.

            SNAP!

            Tristan flew backwards as the branch snapped. At least it wasn’t his arms.

            “NO! NO! NO!!!” he was leaving claw marks in the soil, breaking branches, plucking entire sections of leaves off of the bushes in one fell swoop, ripping out large clumps of grass by the roots. “LET ME GO! LET ME GO!!!”

            But Tristan was completely out in the open again and his attacker was on top of him, pinning him to the ground with a knee in his back. The man fumbled with something that he had withdrawn from his pocket.

            “STOP IT! STOP IT!!! LET ME GO! LET ME—”

            Another scream was pulled from him against his will, and his remaining breath was stolen right along with it. Tristan sputtered and spasmed, his world once again erupting in a blinding flash of white light as a taser was pushed into his bare side.

            He only caught the image for a millisecond before his eyes could focus on nothing more: The lights were on in the house in the distance. The cozy, safe, inviting glow from the windows spilling out into the sleepy morning. The farmer would be out and about soon, ready to tend to his herd. Would he even know that something so violent had happened at the edge of his property? That someone needed his help? That Tristan had almost made it to him?

            He was so close. Tristan had been so damn close…

            It seemed like a lifetime before the shock stopped, but in reality, it was only a few seconds. The man was no longer directly on top of him, but that didn’t matter. The fight had drained out of Tristan’s body, replaced with a dazed haziness. He felt like he had been hit by a train. The taser shock hadn’t been as intense as the fence, but it had rocked his world all the same.

            God, his brain was fried. He whimpered and was still. Just a few seconds… All he needed was a few good seconds to recover, then he could return to fighting as long as he wasn’t shocked again. He wasn’t done... He couldn’t be done.

            Click! Tcktcktck.

            No… no…

            Hopelessness set in almost instantly with the sound of handcuffs being locked into place around his wrists, tight and snug against his flesh. He hadn’t even been aware that his arms had been wrenched behind him.

            His eyes welled up with tears and his cheek pressed into the dewy, cold soil, loose from where he had pulled it up.

            “No… please, no. Let me go. Please. Please…” his throat was scratchy from screaming so much.

            Begging simply wasn’t going to work.

            A second pair of cuffs locked around his ankles, and he was stuck again, just in time to regain mobility in his limbs. Of course.

            “No… no!” he couldn’t help it; Tears were flowing fast and freely now. He yanked and struggled, but the restraints didn’t budge.

            It couldn’t be over. It just couldn’t be. He had made a promise.

            “Let me go! Let me g—mmph!” a cloth was shoved in his mouth, and he was too disoriented to see it coming. Duct tape was looped around and around his head, ensuring that the hasty gag would stay in place, even over his dirt-covered skin. Tristan sobbed, his shoulders sinking in despair.

            No... No... No…

            The man looped his arms up under Tristan’s and hoisted him up, then began to drag him away. Tristan continued to cry, flail, and make muffled pleas as he was hauled from the scene toward the truck.

            “Shut the fuck up.” Their captor bit, giving him a quick smack upside the head. “And quit your crying or else you won’t be able to breathe.”

            Tristan thrashed in the man’s grasp as if it’d change his situation, but their captor held fast and seemed unaffected. If anything, it just made him tighten his already vice grip.

            What Tristan could see of the sunrise through his tears was beautiful. He wished he could watch it fully. It promised a new day. A new hope.

            But not for him.

            For him it was the promise of a whole new hell, one worse than what he and Darius had already dealt with.

            Whump. He was plopped down into the truck bed without kindness or care. Their kidnapper didn’t want to dirty his cabin, after all. The lining was hard and uncomfortable, but at least Tristan didn’t have to be in there long. He hadn’t gotten that far from the house.

            The engine turned over and gravel crunched under the tires as they set off. Tristan propped himself up just enough to peek over the tailgate. The farmhouse shrank further and further into the distance and all he could do was watch, helpless, back in the clutches of their captor.

            It was over.

            Sorry, Dair.

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Day 5!

Phew, that was a LOT more than I expected to come up with! Gotta feel bad for Tristan... he's devastated that he let Darius down. At least they'll be back together soon, right?

...

Right?