yall know you're in trouble when an ao3 tag gets added to the favourites
(im lookin @ u evan 'buck' buckley tag)
yall know you're in trouble when an ao3 tag gets added to the favourites
(im lookin @ u evan 'buck' buckley tag)
Taglist: @as-a-matter-of-whump @orchidscript @haro-whumps @giggly-evil-puppy @grizzlie70 @rosesareviolentlyread
CW// demon, angel and wing whump, broken bones, implied branding, blood, gutting fish (explicit), murder mention, mind control, scars, conditioning and magic whump.
After showing him the way to the grassland, the demon watched him do his tricks, convincing him that they should move further to the south after he was done. Masterfully flying to the top, turning and spiralling in mid air to flop to the ground and soar all over again.
It was almost hypnotizing.
The demon laid for a while just watching the angel fly, enjoying the breeze and the grass grazing his skin. Except for the one on his back that supposedly marked him as sacrifice, there was not a trace left of the pain of sacred metal against his skin, but a fine black mark on his wrists and ankles stayed.
He lifted a hand to touch the horn the angel had grew back for him. Despite the initial pain, it was just as if nothing had happened.
Except a lot had happened.
The angel carelessly flying over the grass had fallen into the human world carrying a demon supposed to be a sacrifice, and knew exactly nothing of how to survive in the forest by himself.
The demon couldn’t blame him. His primal worries were serving, not surviving.
So the angel followed him around watching him do everything.
From helping him clean the feather road and carrying it to a cave close to the river, to tweak branches of highgrass and place leaves over the feathers to make a bed, to gather rocks and start a bonfire with a type of wood that didnt produce too much smoke.
He observed attentively and learnt quickly as he tried it himself. The gleam of interest on his eyes was genuine, as well. The demon guessed he couldnt just leave him alone yet either. They didn’t know when soldiers would come for them, so they had to be very careful and move quickly.
At sunset, they caught fish at the river and took it back to their camp and naturally, the demon simply digged his fangs into it. Joy evident to the angel when he started to swoosh his tail and make what he would describe as his happy thumps from then on. However Sann simply kept staring at the fish on his hands.
After a two good minutes of staring at the fish with a tight frown and trying to bite down on it, only to stop and repeat over and over, the demon sighed.
“Gimme that” he said extending his hand as he picked a stick from the ground. He stabbed the fish with one of his nails and cut it open to Sann’s little barf sound as the demon put all the insides in his mouth and munched them up as he impaled the fish and set it next to the fire. “You just gotta wait a while until it cooks, yeah?”
“Oh…I´m sorry I just have never eaten something…raw before. Other than fruits, at least” Sann said watching the demon continue to eat his raw fish “You seem to know how to handle yourself out here”
“Well, you learn a thing or two when you live alone. Dont worry I´ll help you out until you learn to do it on your own”
“Did you live alone?” The angel asked.
“Well, not alone. Not all the time. I had my Anshe back at the forest. She taught me almost all I know, before she left to the demon realm a few years ago”
“Anshe is your god?” Sann asked doubting if it was the right word. He didnt know much about demons after all. Sann didn’t know much about anything actually. His god had told him the human world was cruel and gray and with nothing important or beautiful to see, but from what he had seen, the human world was a wonder he had yet to discover.
The demon seemed to understand that ignorance wasn´t the angel´s fault.
“No, she uh, Anshe’s more like my mother”
“Mother? Didnt only humans have mothers?”
The demon bit his lip, trying to find a way to explain to the angel. But gave up on large explanations.
“Yeah” he said with a forced smile and eyes fixed on the fire “Your fish is ready. It’s hot so be-“ he said, giggling at the way Sann bit and huffed with his burnt tongue “Mother is just another name to her, as she forgot her real one, she doesn’t mind. But I almost never use it, so I call her Anshe and she calls me by my name”
Sann put the half bitten fish on his lap and looked at the demon softly smiling at the bonfire, entranced in memories that made him do his happy thumps.
“You never told me your name” Sann said as the other’s excited swoosh of his tail slowed down to a stop.
Crimson eyes fixed on gray in complete silence. A gaze freezing like ice looked back at him before his eyes strayed away.
The demon’s tail swooshed. Not in irritation of excitement, but shyness.
“You told me yours so I must tell you mine. Right. That was the deal…” he whispered under his breath, Sann having to lean on to hear him. When the demon looked back up he had a calmer look on his eyes even if he had a frown “Ok angel, some demon etiquette you dont know for obvious reasons is that you never tell just anyone your name because the power it has on his bearer. You dont know what things demons can do when they know your name”
Sann hummed in reply before a one sided grin got plastered on his face “oh? so what hidden intentions did you have when you offered me your name in exchange for mine?”
The river flowed strongly and the fire cracked, but, the demon kept staring back with a serious look until he sighed.
“Luckily for you, none, but you dont know who won’t be so kind, Sann” his voice was layered as if there were a few others speaking at the same time. A bad taste lingered his mouth, suddenly too dry. “Thats why you gotta be careful” The absence of the other voices sent a shudder down his spine. Sann’s eyes moved to the demon’s tail. Swooshing nervously again as his cheeks flared up. “But you helped me, so Im gonna trust you will keep mine safe”
The angel nodded slowly before the demon sighed and leaned closer.
“My name’s Albus” he said, basically whispering it to his ear in a warm breath.
“Albus…” Sann repeated out loud, barely above a whisper to not set him off as Albus went back to eat his fish. “I’ll keep it safe, Al” the demon seemed to relax at the nickname “Hm? Wait. If Im supposed to keep it hidden, why did you always ask me for it?”
“Who knows?” The demon grinned mischievously feeling a wing smack the back of his head. “Hey! What was that for?”
“For trying to thrall your way out of the cell using me” Albus pouted as the angel munched on his fish.
“Only the first month” he whispered before he gulped down the fish´s tail.
Deeper into the night, Sann settled over the leaf and feathers bed as Albus made guard. Attentive to any sound outside the cave, always relying more on his hearing than his blurry sight to identify the creatures roaming the woods.
He let his head lull back against the rock behind him. He was exhausted as well, but he wasnt gonna let anyone take him again.
He looked up to find the vast night sky, closed his eyes to soak into the sounds of the forest, so similiar to his Anshe’s woods. He could hear the deer’s hooves crushing leaves, the sway of the trees when the northern wind blew, the river stream flowing incesantly and the flap of wings.
Too loud to be normal birds.
He snapped his eyes open to find shadows growing closer. Quickly he pulled dirt over the fire, pulling himself closer to the angel. His eyes fluttered and opened awake to find Albus´ hand covering his mouth.
“Quiet” Albus mouthed with eyes trained on the entrance of the cave. Immediately, at the familiar flap of wings rushing closer, Sann stopped breathing.
There was a mutter, a mumbling of inintelligible words, but by the tone and the shaking of something heavier and metallic, they were soldiers searching for them.
Sann put his hands around Albus arms, hand still clasped around his mouth when he heard a thunk. Someone landed right above them.
“They couldn´t have gotten too far” a femenine voice pointed out.
“They? I´m sure the demon has betrayed him already and left him to fend on his own. He might be a divine creation, but he was made to sing and look pretty, not to survive in foreign land” the masculine voice said.
Albus held the impulse to click his tongue. One was enough trouble already, two? They could just hope they would go away without seeing them.
“I would give up on finding the demon. We can catch another after we get the Lord´s pesky bird” the guy said as Albus let go of Sann and felt his heart sink, at the angel´s sulking, but perked his ears to hear more.
“Don´t call him that, Bernaluz. He´s just a fallen who will receive his righteous punishment as soon as we bring him back home” the femenine voice said as Sann bit down a gasp. “Besides, we ought to bring the demon with us. The Seraphim´s lord orders”
“Oh? Last time their pretty angel refused to continue with the ceremony, they killed it themself. Do you think they will make their pretty bird kill the demon himself before resetting him, this time?”
They both heard a smack.
“We don´t question the gods, bird brain”
“Alright, jeez. Calm down, Dedrys” the man said in a half laughter “Let´s see, what clues do we have?”
The demon stopped paying attention to their conversation, racking his brain back and forth when he stopped, upon feeling a hand over his. A set of gray eyes nailed on him with a mix of horror and worry.
Albus turned his hand to hold the angel´s and squeeze it, Then leaned on to whisper directly into his ear “They gave me their names” he heard the huff of a grin “Stay quiet for me ok, Sann?” Albus backed away muttering something so low, Sann couldn´t hear what he was saying, looking at the cave´s entrance. Waiting.
Sann jolted when he heard a dry thud right outside and then saw the white wings curling behind the golden armor of a brunette. One hand on the sword of his hip.
His wings shuddered in panic when the soldier stayed still staring at them. His mind screaming at him to run. He opened his mouth to scream at Albus to move, that they needed to escape, but no sound came out. He was mute.
He pulled back in panic, wanting to paddle away from the soldier walking closer, but Albus´ iron wrip on his wrist wouldn´t let him move.
Sann saw him curve his spine, almost like a cat, swishing his tail slowly in warning.
“Get away, Bernaluz” The small demon snarled in a different set of voices than before. So many layers to it, they froze Sann´s attempts to get away, The angel noticed then the foggy looking soldier “ Your eyes fall upon an empty cave, but outside, they find trails that will guide you to finish your mission to the East, far into the meadows closer to the fog of the morning”
“Empty…” the man repeated in slurred words.
“Go away and tell Dedrys you found traces to your demon to the south-east and traces to your angel to the north-east” The layered whispers of the demon dissipated to hiss under his breath, his hair spiking up as he swished his tail more violently, baring his fangs “Go away, Bernaluz. Do what I command you!”
The soldier stayed still for a second, making the angel´s heart drum on his ears before he saw Bernaluz turn around and exit the cave perplexed. Just to moments later, hear a horn that got replies from three others.
“TO THE EAST! THEY´VE RUN TO THE EAST” he shouted so loud Sann winced.
They waited for a while, hearing the distant flapping and the dry clamor of horns moving away until there was only silence.
Both of them sighed.
“You can talk Sann”
Sann felt almost like his tongue was untangled. Watching the demon scurry to the entrance and take a careful peek outside.
“What was that? How did you do that? Why couldn´t I talk?” the questions rolled out of his tongue as Albus helped him up.
“Too many questions!” he groaned as he lead him outside by the hand and ran on the opposite direction to the angels “I will answer them but for now, we run” the demon said watching in every direction, avoiding trees and branches the angel had mere seconds to avoid himself “They think we´re separated which suits us like a damn glove. That will give us some time but our best bet is to stay lo-AHHH!!!”
Albus kicked the air searching for the ground growing smaller and smaller as Sann lifted them up on his arms and with a strong pull, flew off.
“WHAT ARE YOU-”
“You really don´t like heights huh?” Sann asked with a smug grin when Albus clung to him, his tail coiling around his leg.
“PUT ME DOWN!!”
“Nope. Can´t do. We gotta get away fast, right?” the demon whined as reply, holding tight to him and trying to not look down. Burying his face on the angel´s chest “Pick a…town? Town, and I will drop us there” the angel said enjoying the wind going through his wings, mussing up his hair. It felt so good he almost gives in to the impulse to roll and curve. After a while of silence the angel looked down to his chest to see the demon silently staring at his wings “Hey, Albus? I promise this time I won´t let you fall. Not ever again, ok? Please, talk to me?”
“Please put me down. Please…” he said, the angel noticing the way his voice cracked. At that he took a deep breath and lowered, softening the fall by twisting the middle pair of wings and lifting up dust. The exact moment they landed the demon jumped away from him, hugging himself with his tail coiled around one leg.
The angel swallowed as he watched the demon begin to walk away. “W-wait!” He shouted gripping tight on his wrist. The demon tried to shake him off but when he didn’t succeed, he stayed still. Face turned away from the angel “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”
At the demon’s silence, Sann’s brain began storming reasons why Albus was that afraid of heights. It never occurred to the angel the reason wasn’t heights, but being gripped by an ankle or an arm and tossed around like a toy a few kilometers above the ground. How could he? The first demon he had ever seen was the one standing in front of him. He had never seen the thousands of rituals before.
“I’m really sorry, for scaring you” the angel said letting go of his hand. The demon took a moment, in which his tail swung irritated before he turned around.
“No, you moved quick. It was the smarter option to fly to gain distance too. I just-“ Albus’ lips pressed into a fine line before he sighed “we should take the quickest way to get out, just…” he interrupted himself at the seraphim’s twitching wings “give me a second”
The angel watched him try to calm himself for a moment. Seeing his thin frame rattle with nervousness and such small hands trying to sooth his way back into calm made him step forward. Slowly.
“A-Albus?” He called. The demon’s head turned to find the Seraphim closing the distance before he stretched out his hand. The albino looked at him and then at the hand and then back at him with a little frown “Will it be better if I ask? Always. I promise to never let you go”
Albus’ eyes widened and the tips of his ears painted a bright red. Stunned, Sann tilted his head with a playful smile as he extended his hand forward and smiled widely when the demon doubtfully set his hand over his.
“Let’s go slow” Sann told him as he let the demon find his way around him. Searching the best spot to grip to as Sann’ wings extended. He ultimately clung to him with a little yelp when Sann separated from the ground. Just a few centimeters before it slowly became meters as they moved forward. Going higher and higher seamlessly enough for the demon to dig his head up from the crook of the angel’s neck to look up at the scenery before them.
Albus has only seen the sunrise among the clouds through cold metal bars and an incessant burn, but now, with only the wind mussing up their hair and the warmth of the other boy dripping into him with his arms tightly wrapped around him, the demon’s eyes glowed in awe.
“This is what you always see?” The demon asked him, eyes falling on the wings rhythmically moving like a soft, slow dance; it’s music, the wind cutting through each feather. Albus turned red when he found a gentle face looking back at him, the dimples on his cheek back on again.
“Something like that” The angel replied. They could spot mountains in the distance already. Just small bumps in the horizon that would take at least an hour of flight to reach.
“I can see why you love it” he simply said after a moment “But, don´t ever pull me up like that again, please”
“Thank you. Uh…I uh, don´t know where we are, but put me down when you see a town. Fly slightly to the West when you spot it. Not- Do not land on the town. I don´t wanna worry about humans right now”
“Got it. No town in sight so…”
Albus sighed on Sann´s arms.
“Ask away. Seems it´s gonna be a long ride”
In the excitement override of the angel he rolled in the air so Albus could basically sit and feel the wind on his face. The wonder on his face replacing the terror on his face as he saw the moon going down and down and wind mussing his hair, before he turned to flap his wings harder, was enough.
“A-Angel!” The other shouted digging his nails into his shoulders.
“Oh” Albus whispered to himself as Sann began formulating his questions. He allowed himself to close his eyes for a second and feel the wind on his hair. The familiar smell of dirt, the forests flooded his senses with calm “So, that´s what it feels like” he said, making Sann laugh as he flew to the Western woods, unknowing of the four pairs of horse hooves trailing behind them.
Prison Playbook - Ep. 2, 3 & 4
Je Hyuk’s nerve damage.
Summer of Whump day 22 - sensory deprivation. This one is for Merlin again, in the same universe as a few of the others where Gwaine and Lance know.
Merlin’s not the rescurer in this one though ^_~
Read here or on AO3. It’s 2K, fyi.
Technically, Merlin had all his senses. He could see the cell around him. Smell the mildew. Feel the rough stone beneath his hands, hear the echo of his chains rattle, taste the blood on his lip. But everything felt dead, senses he relied on gone, snuffed.
He knew, knew, this is what the knights felt every day. They would use their guesses, or common sense, to determine if the cell was underground or not. How much time had passed. Identify guard count and potential skills. Merlin had never learned such things, never needed to. The magic of the land would speak to him, telling him exactly where he was, the time, and the life of others around him. Now, with that sense cut off, he was essentially blind.
Merlin knew magic was a part of him, but he hadn't realized it ran this deep in both him and the world. The cuffs on his wrists cut him off from a part of himself, from magic. No spells. No knowledge of the world. He rubbed his pant leg between his fingers, trying to convince himself that the senses his skin sent his brain was enough. That it was real fabric he touched. It was real cold he felt. That the lack of lingering magic, remnants of life, missing from the canvas didn't mean his clothes, his situation, weren't real.
Everything had magic, every rock, every breeze, and he'd learned them all years ago. Navigated by the sixth sense it gave him. Now, he felt lost in so many words. Lost, away from friends. Lost, in the world. Lost, splintered from himself.
"Breathe," he told himself, craning his head back until it hit the wall. "They'll notice you're gone. They'll find you."
It might be a while, though. He'd been by himself herb gathering, dismissing Gwaine's protection with a wink. They both knew Merlin didn't need it, and Gwaine had sprained his shoulder the previous day. Well, joke was on Merlin. He could only protect himself if he saw the attack coming, and the bandits had jumped down from six-foot stone cliffs. Merlin didn't think they knew he was a sorcerer, no doubt, these were the only shackles they had and it was just Merlin's luck they were magic-silencing.
Could he handle twelve hours in a magic-dead world? Twenty-four? How long had it been?
Merlin closed his eyes, forced himself to sleep. It'd help the time slip past.
He heard the sound of footsteps, but his mind didn't make the connection of what that meant until something collided with his face. Merlin jerked awake and tried to focus on the man before him. It was hard without the passive magic he used to identify life and people, especially in the dark of burned-out torches, and when the man turned around and walked away, Merlin couldn't entirely be sure he hadn't hallucinated him.
He looked around for what might have hit his face but found nothing. Frowning, Merlin peered into the dark. Nothing.
Nothing but what his ears and skin told him. Things he had to force himself to think were real senses that counted just as much as magic.
It was very hard to do.
The man came more times, Merlin thought. They never relit the torches near his cell, nor did his visitor carry one. But it felt odd that he would come and do nothing but stare. That if he came daily, it'd been five and there'd been no change in Merlin's situation. Wouldn't they feed him? Ask him questions? Talk to him? Sell him to slavers?
But nothing happened, and the world around him blurred. The man couldn't be real. Maybe the cell wasn't real either.
"Merlin? Merlin, mate, wake up."
There was a light tapping on his face, but he didn't know where it came from. There was nothing around him, just dead air.
The tapping turned into a rough shake, and Merlin opened his eyes. He shut them immediately after, the flame of a torch too bright after days of no light.
“Merlin, come on. I will carry you but I don’t think you want that.”
Slowly, he forced himself to open his eyes. Before him stood a figure that looked like Gwaine. Sounded like him too. But none of the usual markers that this was Gwaine – the faint trace of magic under his skin, the unique sense and color the Merlin had always labeled as ‘Gwaine’ - were there.
He'd reached the ‘hallucinate a rescue’ part of dark cell life, hadn’t he?
Merlin brought his arms up, giving a double-handed flick of the wrist. “Go away.”
Fake-Gwaine spluttered. “You don’t seriously want me to do that. Now give me your hands. How did I not see these?”
He pulled Merlin’s wrists forward, carefully, bringing the torch close to the shackles. The dull metal didn’t reflect a lot of light, but it was enough for Merlin to make out the chisel marks composing the ruins. Crude, but effective. As he watched, the fake-Gwaine ran a finger over the ruins. Merlin hadn’t had a chance to see pay attention to the cuffs before, but what he saw confirmed the effects he’d felt – magic blocks.
Merlin narrowed his eyes at Gwaine. He could be real, and Merlin would never know. Could be fake, and Merlin wouldn’t really know that either.
“Lance!” Gwaine called out. “I need a key for these cuffs. I think they’re doing something to his head.”
“Are they iron?” a voice, Lance’s voice, called back. A fake voice, Merlin decided. Only one human sense could pick him out. At least Gwaine triggered most of the five – the sight of his face, his hands on Merlin, the smell of a day’s hard ride, his concerned voice.
“Iron and marked.”
“Give me a second to check the guards.”
Gwaine turned his attention to Merlin. “Are these your only chains? The shackles?”
Merlin blinked at him, still trying to figure out if he was real or not. Real and Fake Gwaine would try to get him out.
Cursing, Gwaine did his own investigation, scanning the torch along Merlin’s body. He found the other set of chains, regular metal, attached to Merlin’s right ankle on one side and the wall to the other. Gwaine cursed again. “Lance! I need two keys!”
There was no answer.
“Damit. Merlin, I’ll be right back.”
“No, you won’t.” Fake men often came into the cell and left again. This looked to be no dinner.
Gwaine ignored him, hurrying away and taking the torch with him. Merlin sagged against the wall, trying to calm his heart. Of course, he was hallucinating Gwaine and Lance coming to help him – what else did he want? Well, maybe an Arthur rescue. That certainly felt like a better fantasy. And he’d already have the keys -
“Let’s try these.” Gwaine jogged into the cell, a key ring in his hand. “The guard at the station had a single keyring, got us into the dungeon and opened your door. Hopefully, it’ll work on the cuff. Lance had to go further into this place to find a magic key. Hope he finds it, but if I have to kill every bandit in this rundown keep to find it I will.”
“Oh,” Merlin said. Details and practicality and Gwaine didn’t just disappear forever when he left through the cell door. “You’re real.”
“Real? Course I am. Fuck, these things really messed with your head. I’m sure the dark didn’t help. One sec, I think it’s this key. Yes!” Gwaine pulled the cuff on Merlin’s ankle away and helped him stand.
It wasn’t pretty, Merlin hadn’t stood since he’d been knocked out and he wobbled into Gwaine. His legs were stiff, his head dizzy. No water or food, he remembered, in...
“How long have I been here?”
“Two, three days. Depends on when they got you.”
Merlin nodded. He’d thought longer. Five, six for sure. He brought his hands up to rub his forehead. The magic suppression had messed with everything he knew.
“Considering you didn’t bust out, I’m guessing you can’t use your magic right now.” Gwaine wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist, helping him out of the cell. The hallway in the short dungeon wasn’t much lighter, only a single torch by the exit.
“No,” Merlin confirmed. “I can’t use it or sense it. I need them off.”
“We’ll get it.”
There was the sound of someone rushing downstairs, the metal shimmer-sound of mail a good indication it was a knight and not a leather-armored bandit. Still, with one arm holding a torch and the other around Merlin, Gwaine couldn’t fight. Merlin pulled away a half step and Gwaine stepped forward, unsheathing his sword.
It was Lancelot, face red from running. One hand had a bloodied sword, the other three key rings.
“Merlin!” Lance rushed to wrap the warlock in a hug. Merlin couldn’t return it, arms trapped between their bodies, but he pressed in as close as he could.
“We need those shackles off, mate,” Gwaine said.
“Right, right.” Lance backed off, giving Merlin a smile. “We were worried.”
Merlin wanted to say he was fine, but these were the two men he didn’t hide from. Lance took his silence for what it is – they’d had a reason to worry.
“I think it’s this one.” Lance singled out a key on a ring by itself, large and old, with an odd incomplete chiseled circle around the key’s shaft.
Merlin held out his hands, Gwaine brought the torch close, and Lance stuck the key in the hole. It clicked, the shackles falling away.
Instantly, Merlin’s mind was overwhelmed. All the magic he was used to sensing rushed at him, the bright forms of the men before him, the traces in the stone and clothes and weapons, an understanding of where we stood on the planet and its distance from Camelot, the position of the stars above. The world was suddenly, inexplicitly real and bright and too much. Way too much.
Merlin woke in Lance’s arms as they walked out of the tiny, abandoned keep. The dusk light was easy on his eyes, the sigh of forest trees a soft call to of home. Gwaine marched before them, sword out, and heading toward a pair of horses Merlin could detect tied to a fallen log.
Lance noticed Merlin stirring and look down. “How do you feel?”
“Anything we need to take care of now?”
“Food would be wonderful. Everything else, it’s just readjusting.”
“Gaius gave us a small med bag. We should treat your wrists. You’ve been clutching them.”
Merlin looked down at them. The skin was pale, paler than Merlin usually was, and his veins stood out starkly. Now that he paid attention to that part of his body, the blood and magic there were slow and his fingertips tingled. It was a dull, dead post in his body that had suffered the full effects of the cuffs for days.
Merlin moved his fingers, checking mobility. They moved with no problems, but the layer of magic under his skin that moved with them didn’t move at the same rate. It was slow, an afterimage that started only after his fingers returned to their original position. He closed his eyes against the dizziness.
“We’ll see what Gaius sent,” Merlin said. “The skin’s not broken, I’m not in pain other than still trying to wake up a few body parts. But there might be something that can help with the magic side effects.”
“Can you ride?” Gwaine asked as they got to the horses.
He’d be riding double anyway, there were only two geldings, but he didn’t feel off enough to need extra support to keep him in the saddle.
“I can ride in front. My hands are still weird.”
“Good enough. We’re not going far anyway, just to a place to camp.”
After quick horse checks and help getting Merlin in the saddle before Lance, they set off. Gwaine took the lead, alert for anything, and Lancelot made sure Merlin was comfortable. They’d be home tomorrow, and hopefully by that time Merlin would feel back to normal. At equilibrium with his body and magic.
“Thanks for coming to get me,” he said.
“Like we wouldn’t,” Gwaine said. “We’d always come for you.”
“Always,” Lance echoed.
Character A has been poisoned and is desperately trying to find help before they lose consciousness. Their skin is on fire and their are black spots in their vision. They mumble Character's B name just before they keel over and darkness overtakes their vision entirely
Make my oc's suffer
Just send an ask with whatever pain you want them to go through
You can make their whumper hurt them or have them get accidentally hurt, whatever makes the bread rise
Just had the most whumper-ish reaction from a reactor watching AoT. :')
One episode, when two of the good guys are torturing a guy:
"It's weird that they're just torturing a guy down there."
Next episode, when the good guys capture one of the bad guys:
"PULL HIS NAILS!"
I need a prompt for my next Fido chapter, y'all 🙃
Now that the introduction is done and their 'normal' is established, it's time to have some real fun.
TRIGGER WARNING: medication, mentions of captivity/interrogation, implications of past torture
Milo was out of medication.
He'd known he'd been running low, but between the busy schedule with the uprising coming up and the days seeming to blend together after months of not leaving the bunker, he hadn't been paying enough attention to realise how low until this morning, when he went to take his meds with breakfast as per usual and picked up an empty pill bottle.
"Becca," he said quietly, "can I talk to you?"
"Sure, what's up?" the medic casually replied.
Milo frowned. He would only draw attention to himself if he explicitly asked to speak to Becca alone in the middle of the mess hall. Luckily, they had a code word for this kind of situation. "I notice a, uh, a leaky pipe in the infirmary."
Becca nearly choked on the water she'd been drinking. She abandoned her tray on the table and took Milo's hand, leading him out of the mess hall, through a maze of hallways he still wasn't used to navigating on his own, into the infirmary, and pulled him into a broom cupboard.
"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked as the door closed behind her, already tugging Milo's shirt up to check for any new injuries.
"I..." Milo's mouth was suddenly dry. He had to remind himself that he was safe, that Becca wanted to help, that he wasn't with Sir, that Becca wasn't like his old doctors, that she wouldn't punish him for asking for what he needed. He took a deep breath. "I ran out of medicine."
Becca slumped in relief. "Is that all? Honey, you know you can ask for more painkillers at any time. Chris and the guys just made a supply run, they brought back all sorts of things. We're not exactly rationing right now. What kind do you need?"
"The kind for, uh, for the seizures."
At that, Becca's face paled. "Are you sure?"
Milo nodded. "I'm sorry."
Becca shook her head, rubbing her forehead as she let out a sigh. "It's okay, Milo, you don't have to apologise. You're not in trouble or anything, it's just, we didn't get any more of that stuff...how long have you been out?"
"I just realised it this morning," Milo said, a little bit proud of himself for bringing it up immediately.
"So you've been taking it consistently up until now?" Becca asked. Milo nodded. "Good. Okay. I'll ask Chris to make another run. But, Milo, you realise this means we have to tell your team, right?"
Milo's eyes widened. "Wait, Becca, no. Please, I don't want them to know. They were never supposed to know!"
"Milo, they need to know what to expect if something happens, God forbid."
"I don't want them treating me any differently. They already act like I could break down at any time, I don't want them knowing it could actually happen—"
"If it's between everyone being a little extra careful or you having a seizure because Joey's music is too loud or Steph starts screaming for no reason, which would you rather have happen?"
"Frankly, I'd rather have a seizure!" Milo exploded. Becca just looked at him for a minute and that was all it took for Milo to back down. "You're right," he yielded, angry tears springing to his eyes. He couldn't remember ever being this furious with himself. If he'd just told Becca he'd been running low on his meds, in the first place, all of this could have been avoided. Only Chris and Becca would have had to know about what had happened to him with the interrogation, with Sir.
Becca pulled Milo into her arms. Milo tensed at the sudden contact but then relaxed into the embrace and clung to her like a touch-starved koala. His hands clenched into tight fists, bunching up the fabric of her lab coat, and he trembled a little as tears of frustration wet the medic's shoulder.
"Hey, it's going to be okay, hon," Becca said, pulling back to look into Milo's watery eyes. "I know it sucks, but we need to just rip off the bandaid, yeah?"
"Fine," Milo huffed, sniffling as Becca wiped the tears off his cheeks, "but I want some raspberry Jello."
Becca rolled her eyes and ruffled Milo's hair. "Sure, kiddo. You can raid the fridge, for all I care. But you need to tell your team. I don't care how, and I'll even help you if you want, but it has to be today. I'm going to go tell Chris about the situation and see when he can make another supply run."
Teammate looks round, grabbing a weapon as they hear footsteps at the door. For a moment they're relieved to see Whumpee rather than Whumper's minions, but the relief is quickly replaced by rage.
"You've got a nerve showing up here, traitor," they snap.
"I'm sorry," says Whumpee.
"Sorry? After everything that's happened you think you can just come in here and say you're sorry?" Teammate storms across the room. Whumpee throws their hands up and Teammate grabs their wrist but is surprised when they scream and their knees buckle.
"What's wrong with you?" asks Teammate, letting go. Whumpee cradles their arm, their sleeve sliding back to show a bandage stained with blood from the injuries underneath.
"I... I couldn't hold out. I told Whumper everything they wanted to know."
just a quick little doodle!!
Because that’s what they got dubbed <3 previous part here
CW: Held captive, gaged, restrained, creepy/nice whumper
Whumper swung the door open, staring down at their hostage bound to a pole on the floor. Their gaze was met with wide frightened eyes staring back at them.
They didn’t look as scared today, they must be getting used to their new environment. They swung a bag in hand onto the table, digging through it. Whumpee let out a muffled squeak, trying to get their attention. Their little captive was asking for the gag to be removed as usual. Adorable.
Whumper sighed at their own thoughts. They were starting to get too attached to them. Good thing they haven't learned their name yet, that's about the same as naming something that's yours; an inseparable bond.
“Yeah yeah, give me one second.” Whumper muttered, when Whumpee let out another muffled ‘hey’.
They pulled out a coil of rope from the bag as Whumpee’s noises slowly died with fear. Whumper tilted their head back with a smirk. “Don’t worry, this isn’t meant to hurt you. Unless you fight it, of course.”
They crouched down in front of them. “It’s um... It’s really nice outside.” Whumper muttered, they let their eyes wander to avert Whumpee’s unimpressed glare. “Well, happy one week anniversary of being locked in my basement! It’s been nice, right?” They intentionally refused to look at them. “Look, I’m trying to tell you I want to take you for a walk, okay? Stop looking so disappointed in me.” Whumper sighed.
Whumpee’s mood completely changed as they struggled against their restraints, giving them a hopeful look.
“Which is why I haven’t taken the gag off, because it’s going to have to stay.” Whumper added, grunting as they hoisted themselves to their feet. They collected the rope on the table, making a couple of knots.
“You know, I really hope no one goes through my internet history after this, it’s full of stuff like ‘how to harmlessly restrain a person’ all through it.” Whumper laughed at themselves.
Did they hear that right?
They whimpered when their wrists were taken and wound in front of them, the extra coil wrapped many times between their wrists with the access used as a leash. Whumper gave it a tug, “Alright, you know how this works. No funny business, got it?” They hissed. Whumpee quickly nodded as they were helped to their feet.
Their legs instantly felt numb as they stood up for the first time in a week. They swayed as they fell against Whumper, who’s hand instinctively shot out to steady them.
“Easy there! Take it slow. I um... I forgot you hadn’t walked in awhile. Don’t worry, it’s like riding a bike.” Whumper belted a laugh, as Whumpee's legs threatened to give away. They had to take almost all their weight as they helped them to the back door. Whumpee’s legs violently trembled, they were planning on just dragging them along with the rope, but...
They couldn’t just leave them like that.
They lead Whumpee through, who was desperate to see where they were. Maybe there was a landmark, or maybe a hiker! If they got close enough to the road, they could try and break free-
-The sun touched their skin, tingling from the warmth. They really were in a secluded area, trees as far as they eyes could see with one dark, dreary looking driveway winding through it. There was no one to hear their cries for help this whole time.
The rope around their wrists were tugged as they lost their footing, staggering and falling against Whumper’s chest, who wrapped their arms around them.
“Hey, stay with me now. We’re walking, remember? Now stop staring at the sun, you’re going to go blind.” They smirked. They took their arm and took a step back, forcing them to stand on their own. They took a shaky step closer, then another.
“There you go.” Whumper encouraged. They waited from them to close the distance before wrapping their arm around their elbow as Whumpee half-fell against their shoulder.
"I didn’t expect you to be this bad.” Whumper laughed. “But we’ll keep it short and sweet. Just go slow, mmkay? You don’t have to push it.” They soothed with a sigh.
Whumpee let out a thankful muffle.
Whumper thumbed away some dirt from their face. “Jeez, you’re a mess.” They whispered. Maybe when they got home they would dunk them in a warm shower or bath. Their hair could use a brush and they had a change of clothes that would probably fit them.
For fun of course! Not to be nice... or anything...
(it’s cut short, I know. I’m sorry I’m tired.)
Tag list: @grizzlie70 @alien-octopus @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog @whump-it-like-its-hot @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight @yet-another-heathen @princessofonward @whatwhumpcomments @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @mascmasochist @hamiltonwhumpdump @shokuhoemisaki @as-a-matter-of-whump
o(^∀^*)o Thank you for reading!
A Whumper who has been stalking his prey for months and is finally able to sink their claws into his Whumpee. He manages to get them alone and of course, knows where to put the pressure to coerce Whumpee into coming with him.
“You don’t need your friends. Or your precious Caretaker. I’m the only one who knows you, babe. Forget about them. They weren’t right for you.”
“Are you crazy?! I’m not coming with you. Unlike you, they care about me!”
Whumper hummed. “Are you sure? What about that row you had the other day, hm?”
Whumpee’s breath caught. “How do you know about that?” they whisper.
“Please, I know everything. I know how much they hurt you with that. It really was quite thoughtless. Leaving you out like that.”
His touch hardened.
“They hurt you. God, If only you’d--!” He cut off suddenly, trying to regain his composure, taking a deep breath. “If only you’d know how angry that makes me,” he said in a now softer voice, almost in a hiss.
“We made up! It wasn’t their intention! Please, don’t hurt them!”
“They don’t deserve you.”
It's you. It's always been you and it will only ever, be you.
- your enemy confesses his love as you walk away from him. You stop in your tracks but don't turn around.
Little Dragon — part six
ao3 / masterlist / previous
It was less than an hour later that Luisa and the rest of the forensics team began to spread out around the area of woodland where Miranda’s phone had been found. Roberto, meanwhile, hung back to talk to Max and Inés.
“I just want you to prepare yourselves for disappointment,” he said carefully. “A six day delay will probably have got rid of any useful forensics here. The phone surviving is a miracle in itself.”
“Well, see if you can find a few more of those miracles,” Inés instructed. “Miranda’s life might be counting on it.” She had to make a conscious effort to keep the anxiety from her voice as she said it, knowing she needed to stay the strong leader they all knew her as.
Roberto nodded. “We’ll do our best, of course; we want Miranda found just as much as you do... Luisa so much so that I’m getting very worried about her.” Then he quickly added, “But if either of you tell her I said that, I will bludgeon you.”
Max and Inés both glanced over at Luisa, and Inés’ voice became a little softer as she said, “How’s she coping?”
“Not good.” He gave a quiet sigh. “She’s stopped wearing her wheel shoes, she doesn’t purposely annoy me for fun anymore... also I haven’t seen her eat anything for a few days, but of course I’m not with her all the time, so I suppose it’s possible I’ve just been missing it.”
Inés looked back at him, eyebrows raised slightly, and he shook his head in reply to her unspoken question.
“No, I don’t actually think I’ve been missing it,” he said, pulling on a pair of disposable gloves as he got ready to help look for anything useful. “But I don’t want to assume. And now if you’ll excuse me, I ought to go and do my job.”
He headed off in Luisa’s direction, and Max and Inés watched as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, saying something too soft for them to hear. Luisa gave him a very slight smile, then they moved apart and got on with the search.
“If we don’t find anything here...” Max started anxiously, running a hand through his hair. Inés quickly cut him off, trying not to think about it.
“We will, Winter.”
Max gave a frustrated sigh at what was now a far too familiar reassurance, and irritably said, “You’ve told me that every time I’ve started to doubt things, and so far there’s been a stunning lack of leads to back it up.” But his voice carried very little of the anger he’d reacted with the last few times, because he was desperately trying to convince himself that maybe this time, Inés was right. After all, Miranda’s phone had been found, so surely that meant there was a chance for them to turn up another lead too...
A few minutes later, a slightly trembling call from Luisa gave credence to this theory. Max, Inés, and Roberto all rushed over, and found her shining a torch into a small hole in the trunk of a tree, with the bark around it stripped off or burned. Inés felt a horrible sickness wash over her as she silently begged for this to not be what she thought it was.
“There’s a bullet in there,” Luisa said softly, and Inés took a shaky breath as her fear was confirmed. “A-and this looks recent...”
Before any of them could reply, Inés’ phone rang.
“Muñoz,” she said, as she glanced at the caller ID. “If he’s not calling to say he’s found something on Miranda’s phone, I swear—” She broke off and answered the call, walking away from the tree to try and put it out of her mind.
“Couldn’t it just be coincidence that the bullet hole’s recent?” Max said a moment later, a note of desperation in his voice as he tried not to imagine what could’ve happened. Roberto shook his head.
“Doubtful. This is the same tree Miranda’s phone was found by, your witness was very sure of that...”
“But w-we would’ve— we would’ve known,” Luisa stuttered, sounding just as desperate as Max. “We would’ve f-found out by now... she— she can’t be—” She broke off, unable to finish her sentence, but Max and Roberto both knew what she meant.
Miranda couldn’t be dead — she just couldn’t.
“We don’t yet know why the gun was fired,” Roberto said carefully. “It was probably used to scare Miranda, nothing more.”
Luisa nodded, trying her hardest to believe what he was telling her. But images of Miranda’s lifeless body kept forcing their way into her mind, and it took everything in her not to break down as she contemplated the fact that even if they did manage to find Miranda, it might already be too late.
“Winter!” Inés’ voice came through the trees, and she soon rejoined the three of them. “We need to get back to the station. Muñoz says he’s found a voice recording on Miranda’s phone that he thinks we should listen to.”
Max nodded, gave Luisa a slight reassuring smile, and then quickly started off in the direction of his car.
“Call me immediately if you find anything else here,” Inés instructed Roberto and Luisa, turning to follow after Max. But she’d only gone a few paces before Luisa hesitantly spoke up.
“Inés? You— you’ll tell us if you find anything... right?”
Inés turned back around at the question, her heart breaking as she heard the vulnerability in Luisa’s voice.
“Of course,” she said, far more gently than she would’ve done if she was talking to Max or Roberto. “If we find even the smallest thing that could help, I’ll get Winter to call you.”
Luisa gave her a thankful smile, and then Inés turned again and made her way back to her car.
They were so close to finding Miranda now, she was sure of it. She just hoped with all her heart that they’d find her alive.
"I don't like the mud," Hero pointed out as they stepped over a meager puddle.
"Yeah, well, you have to step into the mud to save me, so be prepared to get your $1000 boots a tad dirty," Villain growled.
"They cost $999.99 to be precise."