No.2 - Tumblr Posts

(Whumptober Day Two) Nowhere to Run

TW: Blood

Hero looks around to find an alleyway. None. A dead end. Pain in their leg pulse in their leg as the blood paints their skin and clothes. Footsteps echos around the area. Hero curls up as their legs shake. They can hear Supervillain approaching.

🎃Whumptober Day 2: “They Don’t Care About You.”🎃 (Phantom Thieves x Reader)

It has been a while since you hung out with any of your friends. Every time you ask one of them, they always have an excuse to not hang out with you. At first, you thought nothing of it. After all, you get busy yourself. But after a while, it seems like they are becoming more distant. To add to that, the group chat isn’t active anymore. Even if there are messages, they are short or one word messages. It is like they are slowly forgetting you.

Maybe you should leave them alone.

Maybe they don’t care about you anymore.

🎃Whumptober Day 2: Role Reversal (Akira Kurusu x Goro Akechi)🎃

Note: So this is my first time writing Shuake, and this role reversal AU.

Warning: Interrogation Room Spoilers, character death

Kurusu stares at the guard's dead body on the ground. He turns his head to look at Akechi. Akechi was beaten and bruised, drench in water and his clothes clinging to his tired body. He looks like a drenched stray kitten that had seen better days. Kurusu made a "hmph" sound with a smirk as he leaned over the metal table. His arms crossed, holding his gun underneath his arm, "Looks like the little birdie broke his wings~' He chuckles as he tilts his head, "How does it feel to be defeated honey?~" Akechi narrows his eyes, but his hear can't help but flutters when Kurusu called him honey.

Akechi leans back, his body aching as the bruises get pressed against the metal chair, "Stop having that damn smirk on your face Kurusu." Akechi sneers.

Kurusu lean his head against his hand as he lean a little closer to Akechi, "I thought you loved my face?"

Akechi scoffed, but didn't say anything on the matter. Kurusu grabs Akechi's collar and gives him a kiss. He can taste the blood from Akechi's cut lip but he doesn't care. Akechi, against his better judgement, had melted into the kiss. He so desperately want things to go back to the way it was. But as he felt the barrel of the gun against the side of his head he knew it couldn't be.

As Kurusu pulls back, licking Akechi's blood from his lips, he looks at Akechi with a sharp smile, "Goodbye my little crow.~" There was something in Kurusu's eyes, something Akechi couldn't pinpoint as Kurusu pulls the trigger.

BANG

The last kiss he got from Kurusu was a kiss of death.

#pencil #artsupplies #foundobjects #beautyindecay #destruction #writing #shattered #yellow #no2 #schoolsupplies

"Don't believe the narcissism

When everyone projects and expects you to listen to 'em.

Make no mistake, I live in a prison

That I built myself, it is my religion.

And they say that I am the sick boy;

Easy to say, when you don't take the risk, boy.

Welcome to the narcissism

Where we're united under our indifference."

~

-Sick Boy, Chainsmokers

Whumptober No.2

Not even the one with the most walls built was immune to the enemy's will.

(Click for better quality)

Whumptober Prompt #2 and #6- Explosion and Dragged Away

@winedark-whump you wanted to know who Sam was, and how he died.  Your wish is granted.

A high pitched ringing was going back in forth from one side of his head to the other. He blinked slowly, the darkness mixing in with colors, until he could finally distinguish the sky from the buildings under it. The ringing shifted, assaulting both ears now that he could focus better. He tried to pull himself up, they needed to go… somewhere. He wasn’t sure exactly where but he knew it wasn’t here. Here had fallen debris all around, lots of little fires, tons of smoke, and was that blood? Not a good place to be. He tried to lift himself by his arms but fell to his left side. He looked down and saw dirt. He frowned. Dirt? Shouldn’t there be something there that’s not dirt? His eyes slowly traveled upwards and saw what was left of his left arm. Memory hit him like a freight train.

Ever since Arrow had lost her Hero, she’d become almost as fanatic as the rest of them. Phoenix and Mirror Mirror had just been causing a little mayhem, nothing too big, just a casual museum heist. They’d hoped not to run into any Heroes but together, they were unstoppable so it didn’t really matter. It seemed, however, that someone was dumb enough to try.

“Fucking lousy criminals.” Arrow sneered, Michael catching her first arrow from up in the rafters of the museum. He knew that was merely a warning shot, Arrow always hit her targets. “Always have to ruin everyone else’s day. This artwork is supposed to inspire love for humanity, for life. And taking it just leave those without. How cruel.”

Michael clenched his fist, her arrow exploding in his hand. He sneered right back at her, “Lousy Heroes. Always ruining our day.”

Arrow rolled her eyes and notched another arrow, the tip glinting in the light. Michael snarled, recognizing one of her cracked diamond arrows. Those were a bitch to get out, as if you weren’t careful, the diamond would shatter in you, forcing you to go to a hospital or risk having diamonds enter your bloodstream.

Michael grabbed a button out of his pocket, he always kept spares in case he needed a weapon, or more importantly, if one popped off his corset. He charged up, and threw it upwards. He wasn’t Arrow, with the gift of impossible accuracy, but he was a pretty good shot. She dived as the button exploded, using the rafters as a gymnastics bar, swinging herself down to their level.

He motioned for Sam to take the props and leave the ringers behind, while he charged straight at Arrow. He had to admit, some of the best parts of a classic museum heist is leaving the fake artwork behind so cops have no idea what they’ve stolen.

She jumped back at his straightforward attack, knowing he only needed one slip up to get all five fingers around her. He wouldn’t kill the little shit, but singeing her a little wouldn’t be too bad.

Suddenly, there was a rope around his neck.

“We’re taking this outside so you don’t break shit!” Arrow shouted, throwing him through a window.

His back hit the glass first, and he felt it crack underneath his weight. The shards embedded themselves in his back and legs as the force propelled him through the now shattered window. Somehow, he landed on his right foot before crumpling to the ground. Pain flirted with his body but never truly stayed in one place too long so he knew nothing was broken. Trying to ignore the bruises forming all over him, he pulled himself up, knowing in the back of his head it had been her ability to accurately throw him that had saved him from permanent damage.

A sharp cry brought his attention back to the shattered window. Sam had Arrow pinned to the edge, nearly succeeding in throwing her off. She threw a punch Sam easily deflected, tried to kick Sam’s feet out from under him which he easily blocked, then grabbed an arrow from her quiver and sprayed him with a foamy substance, which caused him to pull back and which sent herself over the edge. She grabbed onto one of the banners advertising the very painting Michael was stealing, flipping and landing without any injury to her perfect high-heels.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to break shit, you seemed to have no problem throwing me out a window.” Michael said, grabbing a couple pieces of broken glass around him. He charged them up slowly, knowing glass was a very dangerous weapon for him, as too much power would cause the glass to break and simply latch onto the nearest surface.

“Better to replace a window than mourn a priceless Monet.” Arrow fired back, notching another arrow.

“It’s Mo-ney, you idiot.” Michael jeered as it were a schoolyard tiff. “He was French, the T is silent.”

“Whatever!” She shouted back, clearly embarrassed. She fired her first arrow, easily and quickly notching another, and Michael threw his first piece. They hit each other straight on, resulting in a small explosion. Arrow narrowed her eyes at him, and smirked.

Then Sam hit her from behind with what was left of a nearby lamppost.

Arrow collapsed to the ground, seemingly unconscious. Michael stared.

Sam jogged over to him, and kissed him lightly. “Hey, babe.”

Michael cocked an eyebrow.

“Hmm? Oh that was easy. Once I copied her, I figured out her weakness. Hyperfocus. Don’t know if she’s ADHD but she can’t focus on the two of us at once without putting one of us on the backburner of her mind.”

“You’re the best, babe.” Michael smiled. “How’d I end up with such an amazing partner like you?”

“You’re a thief.” Sam smirked. “You stole my heart.”

“Would you still love me if I never gave it back?” Michael teased, the familiar words rolling off his tongue like raindrops off a leaf.

“I will always love you.” Sam whispered.

Michael gently kissed his fiancé. “I lo-”

Before he could finish, an arrow shaped like a boxing glove hit him in the mouth. A second with a net attached to it hit Sam, slamming him into a nearby wall. Sam’s head lolled haphazardly, blood trickling down a cut on his face.

“Sam!”

A punch to the face sent him reeling. A punch to the stomach caused him to double over. Arrow then brought her clasped fists on Michael’s neck, sending him to the ground with a grunt. A sharp stiletto dug itself into his left wrist, hitting the ligaments in between his hand and arm. Instinctively, he had let go of the piece of glass he was holding but found himself unable to stop the charge, as all five fingers were being forced upon the ground with the toe of her boot.

“You gotta let me up.” Michael gasped through the pain. “I can’t turn my power off.”

“Impossible.” Arrow snapped. “I’ve severed your median nerve and your transverse carpal ligament. There’s no way you can be using your gift. Even you’re human.”

The ground beneath the glass began to shift into a more fuchsia type color.

“Seriously!” Michael implored, panic starting to seep into his voice. “I don’t know how but I can’t turn it off! You gotta let me up!”

Arrow simply notched another arrow, this one tipped with what looked like a stunner.

“Liar.”

“Please!” Michael begged. The concrete beneath him began to crack, fuchsia energy building up underneath the surface.

“No!” Arrow screamed, and for a second, they locked eyes, and all Michael saw was a frightened child behind her mask. “All you criminals do is lie, cheat, and steal to get what you want. You can never trust a criminal. They’re incapable of trying to do anything good! Their hearts are black, their minds are corrupted, and their gifts are evil incarnate! Only those who use their gifts for the betterment of all humanity can truly have a heart!”

Unable to fight the growing power in his palm, Michael forced out a small breath. Small fissures raced down his hand, across his whole arm, bleeding raw energy. Arrow gasped at the sight, and looked at him, fear evident on her face. Helpless against what was about to happen, he simply gathered what was left of his strength. He had to release the energy before it got worse, and threatened Sam. Above all, if he got captured, if he got killed for killing a Hero, it didn’t matter. No matter what, he had to save Sam.

So, he simply… let go.

It seemed his left arm just couldn’t contain the power.

Ears still ringing, fires still burning, smoke still choking the breath out of his lungs, he forced himself to stand. He had to find Sam. They had to get out of there. He didn’t see Arrow but that doesn’t necessarily mean she was dead or gone. Heroes had a nasty habit of appearing out of nowhere when you least expect them. Horrifically off balance without his left arm, he turned to try and get a glimpse of the wall Sam had been thrown into.

He stumbled around for what seemed like an eternity, coughing up who knows what, nearly falling every two steps, until he finally found a collapsed wall with a familiar glove sticking out of it.

“Sam!” Michael shouted, and collapsed near his fiancé. Sam’s eyes were closed, with blood trickling out of his mouth, head leaning to his left side. “Sam, come on, wake up, we gotta get outta here.”

Sam didn’t stir.

You’re gonna make me do it, huh?” Michael gasped, dread settling into his stomach. “Fine but you don’t get to yell at me when we get home.”

Still nothing.

“Black is the color of my true love's hair,” Michael crooned. He wasn’t the best singer but Sam always loved it. Michael had never done it in public. It was their little secret. “His face so soft and wondrous fair, the purest eyes, and the gentlest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands, I love the ground… C’mon Sam, wake up! Please wake up!”

He shook Sam by the shoulder, and Sam’s head rolled limply to the side.

Michael screamed.

The very same lamppost that he’d used to knock out Arrow was now embedded in his skull. Blood poured from the wound, slowly, as if the motion itself had no life left.

“Sam! Please, no, Sam, please don’t be dead, please, don’t be dead.” Michael screamed. “You can’t leave me here alone. Please, I love you, Sam, I love you! I love you more than life itself! Please. You can’t be gone, you just can’t!”

“Phoenix, c’mon, you gotta get out of here.” A new voice said, tugging on his jacket. This one sounded young, and very, very scared. “You gotta move! They’re going to arrest you!”

He ignored her.

“Please, Phoenix, you’ve got to move! This is my fault, not yours. You can’t stay here!”

He whipped around, his left arm dead weight. There stood Arrow, covered in blood, bruises but with an unblemished face. She looked shell-shocked, as if unable to comprehend the reality of the situation.

“Don’t die with him. Please.”

The “please” shattered what was left of his heart. A scream escaped his lips without conscious thought, a sound he never knew he could make, and he flung the broken-hearted shell of what used to be Michael Winters upon the chest of his dead love.

“No, I’m not letting you take the fall for this. This was my doing, not yours. We’re leaving now!”

With a strength Michael didn’t know was possible, Arrow lifted him under the arms and heaved. Michael, unexpectedly limp in her arms at first, lurched away from Sam.

“No! Don’t take me from him, please, he needs me, no, no!”

“I’m sorry!” Arrow shouted, but continued to haul him away.

Little fuchsia sparks flew past his fingers and out of his stump. “Stop! Let me go! Sam, I won’t leave you! I won’t leave you, Sam, I promise! Let me go!”

He fought against her hold but she had leverage against him so all he could do was skid his feet along the road and try to elbow her as she dragged him away. He got in one good shot to her ribs, eliciting a hard cry. He went to aim for that same spot.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, then he felt a strong electrostatic charge and finally succumbed back down into the never-ending darkness.

Day 1, 2, 3, 7 13, 15-Bakugou "doesn't get sick"

Trying another whumptober whoo hoo! I got a new job, a great one for the first time in my life lol, and I've got a lot of time to be able to sit down and just write. So I'm gonna try my hardest to finish this whumptober, I've been writing as much as I physically can haha

prompts- swooning, thermometer/delurium, "make it stop", "can you hear me", cold compress, "I'm fine"- fever, passing out, sick Katsuki, todobaku pre, shower scene ;)

Feel free to find this on AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50196034/chapters/126773227

This is a long one, so I'm gonna put it under a cut.

Katsuki had been hot and sweaty all day, which is normally something he encouraged for his quirk to work at its highest potential, but today it just felt wrong. He wasn’t sure why, he always took very good care of his body, but something just wasn’t adding up. It was spring, and the weather was supposed to be very nice, but it felt like he couldn’t cool off no matter what he did. He felt like the sun was projecting pure heat through the window as he sat uncomfortably in class, trying his best to pay attention through one of the worst headaches he’d ever had in his life.

To make matters worse, Katsuki had been assigned fucking Todoroki as a partner for an upcoming hero research paper. He hated group work in the first place, but assigning him goddamn Todoroki (even if Aizawa claimed it was random, he never believed that bullshit, Aizawa lied to them all the time) was just adding insult to injury at this point. But he never shirked from his academic responsibilities, he was going to graduate top of his class, so he still had to actually try on this stupid assignment even though he didn’t want to work with the half-n-half bastard. His headache would just have to wait. The sooner they were done, the less he had to talk to IcyHot.

“We’re finishing this as fast as we fucking can,” Katsuki had hissed at Todoroki, who only stared back blankly. Bastard. “I don’t care if you have plans tonight, I’m coming over to your fucking room and we’re finishing this tonight.”

“Aizawa distinctly said we should not do this in one night.” God, even his voice irritated Katsuki. Everything about the bastard irritated Katsuki, from his stupid hair to his stupid muscles to his stupid blank face that never showed any thought Katsuki could pick up on. Kaminari had teased him over ‘how obsessed you are over Todoroki’ and how it ‘sounds like you liiiike him’ but he shut up when Katsuki pushed him off his chair.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “He was talking to the idiots who wait until the last minute to do the work.”

Like the idiots he couldn’t help but call friends because… well, he didn’t know what else to call them. They wouldn’t leave him alone, always forced him to participate in their activities, and every time he tried to leave the group chat they’d set up, he’d just be added right back in and chastised lightly as if he’d just made a small mistake. It had been hard to admit, but sometimes, only sometimes, Katsuki enjoyed their company, and even had fun once or twice. He would never admit to it, especially since he didn’t know how to feel about it, and he refused to be laughed at because he was unsure of these new feelings.

“I suppose we’ll find out when we attempt the assignment.” Todoroki said, which only infuriated Katsuki more, which caused his headache to spike. He wanted to argue some more, but having done it in the past proved its inefficiency. Todoroki never fucking reacted to anything he did, even when he was purposefully antagonizing the bastard just to see him make some kind of facial expression.

“Whatever. I’m coming over right after dinner,” and didn’t that sound disgusting, “so be ready.”

Todoroki nodded, and Katsuki almost felt cheated since Todoroki never reacted to anything he said. He’d seen Todoroki make facial expressions for fucking pathetic Deku, Katsuki was way better than him, why didn’t he get those reactions? Katsuki was ridiculously past good enough to get one of those stupid ass smiles or little puffs of laughter. Katsuki deserved that more than Deku ever would.

Getting through the rest of the day had been difficult, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He just had a headache from dealing with everyone’s bullshit, and the day was a fluke of being too hot, and he just had to get through it. Katsuki was the strongest person in this entire class, he could handle anything. It got easier after school when he took off his uniform and could put on a simple tank and shorts. At dinner, he forced himself to have some congee rather than his normal, nutritionally balanced meal, but the thought of food was so unappealing that forcing himself to cook and eat his routine foods almost outweighed his knowledge that he had to eat dinner in the first place.

When he went to put the half he couldn’t finish in the fridge, Kirishima was in the kitchen, burning whatever he was trying to make. Usually Katsuki could tell by smell alone, but this time he couldn’t smell anything but it was obviously burning. Even worse, Katsuki knew how to salvage his dinner and he didn’t have a reason not to tell him.

“Your heat is too high. Take it out now and it’ll only be slightly burnt.” Katsuki grumbled, rolling his eyes both at himself and his idiot best friend. He couldn’t believe he was best friends with someone who could barely function like an independent human being.

“Thanks, bro!” Katsuki had given up on Kirishima calling him ‘bro’, it seemed to be a core aspect of the redhead’s personality. The chipper smile directed at him as Kirishima did as he said kinda made up for it. Making his friends happy wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever done. “Are you done already? Usually you’re in here cooking up a storm, I was surprised not to see you.”

Kirishima then saw the congee in his hands as he put it in his tupperware, and he frowned. “Dude, is that all you had? Aren’t you the one always yelling at us to ‘make better dinners’? Are you okay?”

Katsuki bristled at the question, his pride flaring up in defense. “I have to work with fucking IcyHot on a dumb fucking project I don’t need a partner for, and apparently I can’t have a simple dinner for once without everyone jumping down my throat! The fuck do you think?”

“Okay, okay, sorry, bro.” Kirishima held up his hands in defense. “Just wanted to check in. You haven’t seemed yourself today.”

Katsuki glared at him. “I don’t need you to ‘check in’. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“If you say so, bro.” Kirishima shrugged. “We’re gonna have a smash brothers tournament at Denki’s tonight, you wanna join in?”

“You shits are lucky I can’t destroy you tonight.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I’m doing my fucking report, which is what you should be doing. When it’s two nights before it’s due, and you still haven’t done it, don’t come crying to me. I won’t help you.”

He would help them. His friends struggled with schoolwork, and if he was going to be seen with them then they had to live up to his reputation. Unfortunately, they couldn’t do that without his help, and he didn’t like watching his friends struggle and seeing them upset over their grades. That stupid feeling he hated outweighed his annoyance at helping them, so, he didn’t really have a choice if he didn’t want that stupid feeling he got when he saw his friends get upset. He didn’t know how, but somehow his idiots had figured that out, and they still came to him every time, and every time, despite him telling himself that he wouldn’t help them this time, he helped them regardless. They were all the worst and he hated them.

But for now, Katsuki was too busy hating the elevator’s stupidly bright lights to hate his friends anymore. Katsuki leaned against the metal, the coolness of the metal a balm on his overly hot skin. He’d never been so glad that the entirety of Heights Alliance had air conditioning. The day had been way too hot today, Katsuki had always been sensitive to hotter temperatures since he couldn’t cool his body through his sweat like other people did, which is probably why he hadn’t heard anyone else complain about it. But he could take anything, any temperature, any obstacle, because no hero worth their salt would let a thing like a hot day stop them so he refused to let it stop him.

Even though he really didn’t want to be doing this, he’d much prefer to just take a cold shower and go to bed early so the day would finally be over, he still pushed forward and went to Todoroki’s room. He went to just walk in, not like the bastard didn’t know he was coming, but the door was locked. He jiggled the door handle a little violently, clearly seeing the light was on under the door, but it still didn’t open. Katsuki’s eye twitched.

knock. knock.

It was the stiffest knock of his life, but apparently that was enough for Todoroki, who finally opened the door. “You knew I was coming, that was a dick move.”

“So is barging in unannounced.” Todoroki replied, raising an eyebrow. Katsuki’s eye twitched again.

“We should get started since you want to finish tonight.” Todoroki said, and Katsuki just growled, and then just set his stuff down on the tiny ass table Todoroki had. Sometimes, Katsuki had to choose his battles. Most of the time, he chose all battles, but this one he had to let go since he didn’t want his grade to suffer.

“I’m taking this pathetic excuse for a chair since you’re apparently so fine with being on the floor.” Katsuki said, referring to the mat Todoroki slept on. Todoroki didn’t protest, he merely just set the mat next to the thing that couldn’t even be called a desk really since it was too damn small. The room didn’t seem to have much in terms of temperature control, as the elevator had been much cooler. It was probably because Todoroki could regulate his own temperature, so he didn’t need the ac unit to do it for him. That was annoying as fuck.

The headache that Katsuki had been working very hard to ignore was becoming more and more of a problem as they worked. Katsuki could at least appreciate the monotone right now since it was quiet, and he spoke slowly enough that Katsuki could hear him despite the pounding in his head. A hammer was slamming into his head with every beat of his heart, and it just got worse as they kept going, the material not interesting enough to get past the pain. He would’ve given up and gone to sleep if he didn’t have to do this damn paper with Todoroki. The bastard couldn’t keep a secret for his life so in order to keep his reputation, he had to keep going, even through the worst headache he’d had in a long time. But with every beat of the hammer, he was losing his resolve. It was only his drive not to be weak that kept him going.

“Bakugou? Did you hear what I said?” Todoroki said, startling Katsuki a little.

“Of course I did. I was just thinking.” Katsuki snapped, trying to brush it off, ignoring the fact that he actually hadn’t heard what Todoroki had said. He hoped it wasn’t important.

“Thinking.” Todoroki echoed, but it wasn’t a question or a challenge. It was just a statement.

“That’s what I fucking said.”

“Are you alright, Bakugou?” Todoroki asked, and Katsuki could almost hear a touch of concern in the monotone. It pissed him off, though he wasn’t sure exactly why. “You’ve been strangely quiet today.”

“I’m fine.” Katsuki sneered, a violent threat in his voice.

Todoroki pursed his lips at him, but only continued on with what he was saying. Katsuki struggled to keep focusing on it, Todoroki’s voice was soothing in its quiet volume, but he couldn’t process the words the bastard was actually saying.

Dammit. He couldn’t keep doing this. If he actually turned in the report they were working on now, Katsuki would get the worst grade he’d ever gotten in his life, even though he very much understood the topic. His headache was just too bad, and the room had only gotten steadily hotter as they’d worked, and Katsuki couldn’t take it anymore, his reputation be damned. He’d just blame it on Todoroki not properly cooling his room and sweating him out of it.

“I’m done, I’m going to bed.” Katsuki said, gathering up his stuff as quickly as he could. He was a little uncoordinated in his haste, but he blamed it on the heat. “We’ll just do this tomorrow.”

Todoroki didn’t even show his surprise beyond a raised eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to do this in one night.”

“It’s not my fault your room is like a sauna and your voice is like a fucking icepick in my head!” Katsuki snapped, absolutely done with today. The room was so hot he was starting to get a little dizzy, and standing just made his vision swim for a moment. “How the fuck am I supposed to focus on court cases and legalities when the room is a million degrees and you won’t fucking shut up?”

That seemed to actually surprise Shouto, though it still only showed in his eyes. “Bakugou, my room isn’t hot. And I was only talking since you wouldn’t. You’ve barely said anything tonight.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, and then had to pinch his nose and shut his eyes when the room blurred, playing it off as annoyance. Dammit, he was so fucking hot. “You wouldn’t notice, you have that stupid temperature thing because of your quirk.”

“I turn on the ac when I have guests, Bakugou.” Todoroki said, and Katsuki scoffed. He was sweating far too much for that to be true. He didn’t doubt that Todoroki was lying, but there was no way the ac was actually on right now. The bastard must’ve just set it to the wrong setting, he wouldn’t be the first in their class to struggle with the thermostat, to his perpetual annoyance.

“Bakugou, I may not be an expert, but you do not look well.” Todoroki said, which only infuriated him more. If he was suddenly going to care about Katsuki, the least he could do was fucking show it. Katsuki knew not everyone wore their emotions on their sleeve, but Todoroki never seemed to have any emotion at all, not even when dealing with Katsuki.

“I’m fine.” Katsuki hissed, parroting what he said earlier, with the same vitriol.

“You clearly are not.” Todoroki said firmly. “I can regulate my own temperature, you’re correct, but I can still feel the temperature around me. My room isn’t hot, and you’re sweating like it’s summer. I think you should see Recovery Girl.”

Katsuki growled an incoherent shout. “I don’t need that old bat, there’s nothing wrong with me beyond suffering from dealing with all you idiots. Fuck off!”

Katsuki turned to leave, but his vision swam so quickly that he had to stop mid-step. His hand came to his eyes, trying to steady himself, forcing himself to push through the heat. But before he could get his body to work, his backpack slipped through his fingers as his vision went black.

“-ugou. Bakugou. Bakugou.” Someone was shaking him, insistence in their voice. He groaned lightly, his eyes fluttering, his head pounding even harder than before. He squinted, and Todoroki then came into focus. He was wearing a look Katsuki had never seen before. It looked almost like worry, but Katsuki couldn’t tell.

He groaned again, and then he felt something blissfully cool against his forehead, easing his headache and the unbearable heat he was trapped in. He sighed, his eyes managing to stay open now. He was in Todoroki’s arms, with Todoroki’s right hand pressed against his forehead. He remembered that Todoroki’s right side was cool, and Katsuki wanted to just sink into him.

“Wha- happen?” Katsuki said, the act of speaking a struggle it had never been before.

“You passed out.” Todoroki said, a frown tugging at his lips. “You have a fever. I’m going to take you to Recovery Girl.”

Todoroki began to push them both upwards, but Katsuki shook his head. “No! No. ‘M fine. Just… just need to sleep it off. ‘M fine.”

“You are not fine, Bakugou.” Todoroki groaned, and Katsuki could’ve sworn he heard concern and frustration in Todoroki’s voice. But that was impossible, Katsuki never got emotion from Todoroki, no matter how hard he tried. “You literally just passed out. You’re sick, Bakugou.”

“I don’t get sick.” Katsuki said, and that was completely true. Katsuki got sick so rarely that he couldn’t even remember the last time. “Be fine. Just need sleep. Don’t need help.”

“You can’t stand on your own.” Todoroki said, deadpan. Katsuki frowned at that, and he opened his mouth again, but Todoroki cut him off. “If you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and drag you to Recovery Girl.”

Katsuki pouted at that, and stayed silent for a moment, knowing Todoroki was just as serious with his threats as he was.

“I don’t get sick.” He repeated. “Just need to sleep this off.”

Todoroki pursed his lips again, clearly torn between what to do, before he sighed, obviously coming to a decision. “Fine. I’ll take you to your room, but only for now. I can’t tell if this is just your pride or if this is actually how your body works. If you get worse, I’m taking you to Recovery Girl no matter what you say.”

Katsuki nodded, and went to get up, pushing himself up on noodly arms. He immediately fell back into Todoroki. Thankfully, Todoroki didn’t comment on his weakness, he just wrapped Katsuki’s arm around his shoulder and pushed them both up. With Todoroki’s support, Katsuki could mostly walk, his feet dragging a little as he couldn’t raise his feet off the ground very high.

The elevator ride down to the fourth floor was silent, almost awkward. Katsuki couldn’t find the strength to say anything, but Todoroki didn’t seem to mind the silence. Right now, he just wanted his bed more than anything in the world.

Their next obstacle was Katsuki’s door, as he always locked it when he wasn’t in his room. He couldn’t remember where he put his keys at first, patting down his pockets. Suddenly a hand reached into his back pocket and he yelped a little at the surprise, his reaction was too slow, but he still hated being startled with touch. Had for a long time. Todoroki then handed him his keys, with a sheepish look on his face. “I saw them in your pocket. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”

Katsuki took the keys and opened his door, using the door handle to keep himself up, trying to keep himself upright on his own. Todoroki went to follow him in and Katsuki growled again.

“No one goes in my room.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Todoroki said, a little snippy, uncaring that he was stepping into Katsuki’s space.

Todoroki turned on the lights, and Katsuki hissed as his headache spiked, unconsciously pressing himself into the nape of Todoroki’s neck. Todoroki immediately turned the light off with a quiet “sorry.” before he started walking again.

Katsuki flopped into bed with all the grace of a newborn giraffe, but his bed was cool (he had special sheets so he wouldn’t overheat as he slept, his parents had designed them for him) and that was all that mattered to him. He rolled onto his side, felt something lift his legs into the bed, and he was out as soon as his head hit the pillow, just barely feeling a cool hand brush his sweaty bangs out of his face.

“- been asleep for a little while… nothing’s changed…”

“- not sure, Todoroki. He really doesn’t get sick that often. I think the last time was over five years ago. Even I don’t really remember.”

He knew that voice. Goddammit, he knew that voice and he went to glare at fucking useless Deku, but he was still squinting in the darkness he’d woken up in, lessening its effect. Todoroki had left the door open a little, the hall lights shining in his room far too brightly for his headache. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but his mind wasn’t as fuzzy as before. Still way too fucking hot though.

“You got fucking Deku?” Katsuki growled, refusing to admit that it sounded more like a whine.

“I didn’t know anyone else who would know how your body works when it’s sick.” Todoroki said matter-of-factly, coming back over to Katsuki’s bed. He was mostly forgiven when he put his cool hand back on Katsuki’s burning forehead, getting a soft noise Katsuki didn’t even know he made.

“Well, his parents will know, for sure.” Deku said to Todoroki. Katsuki glared harder. “I can call them, figure out where to go from here.”

Todoroki nodded.

Deku then handed Todoroki a rather big box that Katsuki surprisingly recognized. Auntie Inko knew how injured they got in training, especially since Deku wouldn’t fucking stop constantly breaking all of his bones, and had gifted him the same first aid kit that Deku held in his hands. Actually, it really wasn’t a first aid kit but a mini hospital, with so many things Katsuki didn’t know when he’d ever use some of them. (Seriously, Auntie, when was he gonna need a goddamn stethoscope?) He’d only taken it because his mother would’ve been mad if he made Auntie cry, not that he could handle her tears anyways, and, well… secretly he could appreciate the gesture. He never understood why Auntie continued to try and take care of him even though he really wanted nothing to do with her son, but he supposed that’s just how she was. Deku too, but he was way more annoying about it.

“You should take his temperature, if he’ll let you.” Deku said, still talking to Todoroki and not him. “You’ll have a way better chance with him than I will.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Katsuki shouted, immediately regretting the loudness when he made his own headache worse.

“Sorry, Kacchan.” Katsuki just glared at him, fighting off the wince he’d just given himself. “I- I’ll just go call Uncle Masaru now.”

Deku stepped out of the room, and Todoroki set the kit down onto his nightstand, digging through it with one hand, keeping his right hand on Katsuki’s forehead.

“There are three thermometers in here.” Todoroki stated, seemingly a little overwhelmed by Auntie’s overprotective nature. “And they’re all different.”

Katsuki made a noncommittal noise. Something then pushed gently at his mouth, and he turned his glare to Todoroki.

“I can’t use the other ones, I’ve been cooling you off too much.” Todoroki said, poking him again. “They won’t give accurate results. This is the only one left.”

“I can do it myself.” Katsuki said, trying to move his mouth as little as possible.

Todoroki sighed, definitely sounding frustrated. “Bakugou, will you please just put your damn pride aside for two minutes? I just want to help you. You’re my friend. Let me help you.”

This was the first he’d heard about them being friends, though he supposed he had started paying more attention to Todoroki after their supplemental classes. He hadn’t thought it had been reciprocated though. But even if they were friends now, this was something he couldn’t allow. He wasn’t weak, he didn’t need help, not even Todoroki’s.

Not even if a dark part of him wanted to accept it.

Moving his body was like trying to move through molasses, but he did eventually get his arm out from under the blanket (when did he get a blanket?) and he reached for the thermometer. Todoroki sighed, but gave it to him. This time, the silence was awkward as they waited for the thermometer to beep. He wasn’t sure why this time was so different.

Deku was the one who broke it when he came back in. He still didn’t like anyone in his room, but he didn’t have the strength to blast the fucker out, even if he did have the sweat.

“Uncle said that there’s not much we can do except keep him cool, the illness just has to run its course.” Deku frowned, trying not to talk directly to Todoroki and failing. “And. um. Auntie Mitsuki said, um, not to take any of his, uh, ‘bullshit’. Her words, not mine.”

Todoroki just nodded. Katsuki didn’t know what that meant.

Once the thermometer finally beeped, Todoroki withdrew it without asking permission. Oh, that’s what that meant. Damn hag, and damn Deku. Todoroki took everything too literally, Deku should’ve fucking translated his mother’s stupid words.

“39.27 (102.7)” The monotone was back. Katsuki felt an emotion he didn’t know how to describe, but it wasn’t pleasant. “That’s higher than I was expecting, though unsurprising.”

“Yeah, Uncle said when Kacchan gets sick, he really gets sick.”

Katsuki growled at him again, wanting to yell and blow him up but trying not to be stupid and repeat past mistakes. His head was still throbbing from the earlier shout.

“I-I-I should go, Todoroki.” Deku said, shrinking away from him. “I think I’m just making it worse. He doesn’t want me here.” No. No he didn’t. Especially since he wouldn’t stop talking about him like he wasn’t there in his own fucking room. “Do you want to come with me? I’m sure Kirishima wouldn’t mind looking after him.”

The beat in between Deku’s question and Todoroki’s answer made the emotion he had worse.

“No. I’ll keep him cool for now. It’s no trouble.” Katsuki didn’t know whether that made him happy or annoyed. God, he hated emotions, they were literally the worst. It was so much easier to just be angry all the time.

“Don’t forget to not overuse your quirk, Todoroki. Just let one of us know if you get too cold. We’ll figure something out.”

Todoroki just nodded and Deku very quickly left the room. If Katsuki was more childish like his friends, he would’ve flipped him off as he left. But Deku didn’t deserve what little energy he had, and closing the door until very little light was left was at least the decent thing to do.

“You can leave, IcyHot.” Katsuki grumbled. “I’m-mmph.” Suddenly Todoroki’s cool hand was over his mouth. Katsuki did not like that, he didn’t like anyone touching his face and it had only gotten worse since the-incident-that-shall-not-be-named. He nipped at Todoroki’s hand, and it quickly returned to his forehead, but the message to shut up was loud and clear.

“Stop saying you’re fine.” Todoroki snapped, and Katsuki thought he almost sounded angry. Katsuki didn’t know that Todoroki could even get angry. “Stop lying to me. I don’t care about your stupid pride, and I cannot understand why you won’t let it go for two seconds for your friends. I want to help you but I can’t if you won’t let me. Why won’t you let me? Do you… do you hate me?”

Grand displays of emotion were hard for him. Grand displays of emotion coming from Todoroki were another beast entirely. Katsuki had no idea how to respond to this, and if he wasn’t sick, he wouldn’t have responded to it beyond anger. But right now, with a fever he could no longer deny, his mind didn’t immediately go to the rage he used to shield him from emotions he didn’t like. It just took much energy that he didn’t have, and he hated himself for his weakness.

“No.” Was Katsuki’s response, and it was a lot more awkward than he’d wanted it to be.

“Then why won’t you stop lying to me?” Todoroki said, looking just as uncomfortable as Katsuki was. But apparently, not uncomfortable enough to shut up and let this go. “I thought you respected me, at least a little.”

Shit. Katsuki did not like letting people know when he respected them. They never responded in  a way that Katsuki liked or could handle, either acting all smug about it or like it was obvious that they deserved it. Both reactions drove Katsuki up the wall.

Thinking about this was too hard, even with the soothing coolness Todoroki was projecting. He didn’t do emotions, and everything he was feeling right now just made him even uncomfortable in his skin. He’d take the fever and headache over this any day.

“I didn’t lie to you, I’m fine by myself.” Katsuki said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Except you won’t.” Todoroki snapped again and Katsuki internally cursed at his mother for putting this idea into Todoroki’s stupid head. “Taking care of yourself would’ve been canceling our plans, or going to see Recovery Girl. You refused to do either. That’s not taking care of yourself. You couldn’t even admit to me that you weren’t feeling well after you literally passed out in my arms. You’re lucky I was there to catch you, what if you weren’t with me? What if it happened when you’d stepped into the hall and I hadn’t followed you? You might’ve gotten a concussion or worse. If you don’t hate me, then why can’t you let me care about you?”

Katsuki unconsciously curled a little into himself, his quills puffing up, ready to lash out at any moment. His head hurt, and even with the frosty air Todoroki was creating he was on fire, he just couldn’t deal with this right now. Being sick for the first time in years was already way too much for him, he’d never felt so shitty in his life, and having fucking Todoroki of all people see him this weak made him so uncomfortable he didn’t have a word for it. Katsuki didn’t understand why Todoroki was so upset, and thinking about it hurt his head too much. He didn’t even have an answer for Todoroki. He didn’t have an answer when his friends asked him the same question after they were fed up with his insistence on independence and refusing to accept their help. He’d learned the hard way that sometimes he had to depend on other people, but that hadn’t made it any easier to deal with. So he’d rather just not deal with it at all.

After a fair amount of silence, Todoroki just sighed, sounding resigned. This was the most emotion Katsuki had seen out of Todoroki since he’d met the bastard. Katsuki thought that was very rude, and he should’ve gotten this a lot earlier. Though, he could do without the annoyance and anger. “You should get some sleep, Bakugou.”

Well, now he was purposefully not gonna do that, even though he was exhausted. Once spite was activated there was no stopping it. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Then stop being an idiot.” Todoroki hissed.

Katsuki glared at Todoroki but it didn’t matter since Todoroki still wasn’t looking at him, only straight ahead.

“Don’t fucking insult me.”

“I’ll do whatever I want, thanks.” Todoroki said, matching his energy. “Since that’s all you do, I get to do it too.”

“Oh fuck you!” Katsuki snapped, absolutely done with this stupid bastard, throwing his own words in his face was the last straw. “Get the fuck out of my room! Leave me the fuck alone!”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Fine.”

Todoroki ripped his hand away from Katsuki’s forehead and stood sharply. He walked out without another word, and Katsuki expected the door to slam and prepared himself for it. But Todoroki caught it just before it did, and he closed the door quietly behind him.

Katsuki stared at the door for a moment, almost in disbelief. Todoroki never got angry, let alone to this extreme. He thought even Deku hadn’t seen that before, the damn nerd would’ve said something. Even though Katsuki liked antagonizing Todoroki, liked seeing if he could get the bastard to show emotion, even if it was negative emotions, this didn’t… this didn’t make him feel good. The emotion he hadn’t been able to describe twisted in his gut, making his chest hurt in a way that it never had before. He wanted to get Todoroki riled up, it’s why he talked to him the way he did, the way he purposely tried to push the bastard’s buttons, that was his end goal. He wanted to see Todoroki show some sort of emotion, any sort of emotion.

So why did that make him feel so shitty?

Getting what he wanted never made him feel bad in the past. It was a point of pride for him that he basically always got what he wanted, that he’d earned what he’d wanted. Katsuki was always so sure of himself, he always knew what he wanted, and he did everything he could to get it.

Was this… actually what he wanted? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Which never happened, Katsuki always knew what he wanted, and he never regretted anything. (Well, he regretted a few things but he never let himself think about them so that was basically the same thing.) But the more the silence of the room echoed in his ears, the more he regretted saying any of those things, and not just because he’d lost the hand that had been keeping his headache at a somewhat manageable level. The icepick in his head only seemed to make his actions seem worse, and Katsuki did not like that. Even though he knew he was an asshole with no filter, and no intent on getting one, this felt like he’d gone too far. He’d gone too far a couple of times in his life, and this felt worse than all of them.

With the door closed, heat was starting to build up in his room, and the blanket that he still didn’t know how he got was kicked around to his legs. His hand flopped around to his nightstand, opening the drawer and grabbing the remote for his ac unit. He turned it down several degrees, and didn’t have the energy to put it back. His hand just fell to his bed, and his eyes closed on their own accord. Even though he’d wanted to stay up to spite Todoroki, despite the fact that he couldn’t remember why anymore, his body just started to shut down on its own. At least sleep would be a reprieve from the overwhelming pain in his chest and his head, so he surrendered to the thick haze of sleep and hoped he’d wake up without this agony.

Blood. Blood and screams and death and fear. Katsuki spun around, lost and scared, wanting to run but unsure of where he could run to. Screams rang in his ears from all directions, each one different yet full of the same agony. Each one echoed their pain into his heart, overwhelming him with emotions he couldn’t handle. Unable to take anymore, his legs took off running without thinking, his chest heaving as the torturous screams pierced his chest.

He skidded to a stop as an image flashed in his mind, his own scream blending into the background. Deku’s body was still crackling with energy, his green lightning dying as Deku lay still. His arms and legs were both black, bent in horrific ways, and Katsuki’s stomach lurched as his gaze finally landed on Deku’s chest. His ribs had pierced through his skin, his chest cavity a mess of blood and bone, surprise still written on Deku’s lax face, his green eyes dull and lifeless. Again, Katsuki’s legs took off without his consent, tears streaming down Katsuki’s face as nausea built in his stomach.

His arms flailed as he slipped on something wet and sticky, crashing into some sort of small building. Looking up, Katsuki screamed again, seeing Kirishima spread eagle across the top, his head hanging down, his neck brutally slit open, dripping blood into the fiery red hair he was so famous for. Katsuki slipped again in his haste to get up, realizing with a sickening jolt that he was slipping on Kirishima’s blood.

“Make it stop.” Katsuki sobbed. “Make it stop.”

He finally got up again, only to freeze in place. In front of him was Ashido, lying in a heap, her neck bone protruding from her skin as her head twisted the other way. As more and more tears spilled down his cheeks, he turned and turned and turned. Jirou, her own earphones wrapped around her red, raw neck. Sero hanging from his own tape, his limp hands still stuck from trying to free himself. Kaminari’s head soaked, water still dripping from his motionless mouth. His world began to spin, and he crashed to the ground, curling into a ball.

“Make it stop.” Katsuki covered his ears and shut his eyes, trying to block it all out. “Please, make it stop.”

The world went silent.

Katsuki warily opened his eyes. Vast ground filled only with empty space. He was too scared to try and speak, terrified that the death and screams and blood would come back. No matter where he looked, all he found was emptiness until he came across Todoroki, laying on the ground too, facing away from him.

He crawled over hesitantly, his mouth moving to speak Todoroki’s name but his vocal cords refused to make any noise. Katsuki’s hand hovered over Todoroki’s body for a moment, not seeing anything on his red side. Maybe he was just unconscious? His hand finally landed on Todoroki’s arm, frowning as it was cool. No, no, his red was his fire side, he should’ve been warm. His hand jerked as he pulled it back, causing Todoroki to roll over.

Katsuki screamed again, his voice laden with agony as Todoroki’s head lolled to the side. His white side had completely disappeared, charred to ash, his skin covered in burns matching the scar on his face. He cowered away, his hands dragging him away from Todoroki’s dead body. He slipped again, curling back into a ball, sobbing.

Everyone he had ever cared about was gone, and Katsuki was alone. Emptiness beat in his ears, the silence louder than any of the screams had been. His sobs echoed across the vastness, his breath the only other sound. He longed for his friends, wanted someone to still be with him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. That he would have more than himself to keep him company, to make him smile just a little, to make him let out a breathy laugh. To watch with amusement as they did something stupid, being far too noticeable when he was socially awkward with his stupid confused face, silently sitting with him when they knew he wanted company but couldn’t take any more noise. Grabbing him in one arm hugs, ruffling his hair and dodging when he swatted at them, squishing him when they were all crammed together in too small of a space to fit all of them. He wanted that back, he wanted them back so badly, he’d do anything.

“Anything, huh?” The back of his neck burned, and he was lifted off the ground. He writhed in the grip, sludge rising from the ground to latch onto his body, forcing him into submission.

“No, no, please, stop!” Katsuki wailed, the sludge only growing stronger, binding his body in muck. The heat on the back of his neck increased, and another hand forced his head forward, his eyes only able to focus on Todoroki’s lifeless body. “Not like this, not like this!”

“Aw, I thought you said ‘anything’.” The voice taunted. “Don’t you love them? Wouldn’t you do anything for them? You know we have an offer for you, you remember our last one.”

“Can’t.” Katsuki wanted to shake his head, but the grip was too strong. “Won’t betray them.”

“Then die with them.”

Katsuki couldn’t move, his entire body now encased in the sludge, could barely talk as the goo began to tease at going in his mouth and down his throat. 

“Not again.” Katsuki gasped, feeling the horrid taste of the sludge as it crept slowly, maliciously, into his mouth. “Please not again.”

A mocking laugh, and then the sludge forced itself down his throat, cutting off his air. Katsuki panicked, writhing with great strength, but useless, so uselessly. The world spun one last time as he grew dizzy from hypoxia, and he fell into darkness with taunting laughter echoing around him.

Katsuki jolted up in bed, a silent scream on his lips. His eyes rolled at the heat of his room, just as dizzy as he was in his fever induced nightmare, practically seeing the waves of heat energy radiating from his furniture, his walls. He had to cool down. If he didn’t cool down, he thought he was going to die, his body melting into his bed.

His room had a shower. The door was right there. He just had to get there, the water could cool him down. He pushed himself up, his arms too shaky to hold him for long. Maneuvering his body was like trying to walk straight in a gyroscope. He stepped forward with his left foot, shaking as he stood, desperately trying to go forward. His right foot was next, but it was still tangled up in the blanket of unknown origin. He tried to pull it free, but another strong bout of dizziness sent him tumbling to the floor.

The world faded in and out as he lay on the floor, his arms trying to push himself up, but he crashed back down every time. He just didn’t have the strength to get up, the attempts draining what little he had until he just gave up. His vision flickered in and out, his sweat soaking into his carpet, his heart carrying agony all over his body, igniting each nerve with a bonfire, his head pounding like a thunderstorm’s rage.

“Sorry to disturb you…”

“Eh, no worries, Todoroki. If Bakubro needs me, then I’m there, no matter what.”

Even though the door was closed, Katsuki could still hear the voices through it. The dorm walls carried sound better than any speaker.

His door quietly creaked open, driving another spike of pain into his head. “Bakugou? Hey man, are you- oh shit!”

Light blinded him for a moment, before he felt a cold arm heave him up, cradling him in iciness. He whimpered, the sudden shock of frigidity making him wince. A warmer hand came to his forehead before jerking back with a hiss.

“He’s burning up.” Kirishima gasped, cursing again.

“Kirishima, get Recovery Girl.” Todoroki ordered, taking charge of the situation. “I’m gonna try to cool him down.”

Kirishima nodded, his face set in his ‘serious mode’. His best friend should’ve been a comfort, but seeing Kirishima’s frown and furrowed brow just made him a little scared. Kirishima was one of the smiliest people he’d ever met, and Katsuki always told him that his face would get stuck like that. It was always laughed off, bringing out that same smile, which always made Katsuki roll his eyes. But he still liked seeing it, and when it was missing, Katsuki didn’t like it, not one bit.

“Don’t use your quirk, use his shower.” Kirishima said, standing. “Anything lower than room temperature is too cold, you’ll send him into shock.”

Todoroki just nodded, and Katsuki wondered if he’d already known that, or if his temperature regulation thing kept him from getting fevers. Kirishima bolted out the door, his steps thudding down the hall then the stairs.

Another arm came to his knees, and he was lifted into the air. His vision swirled again, able to tell he was moving but unable to process anything else. His legs were gently placed on the ground, but then the sound of a massive waterfall assaulted him and he turned back into the soft, wintry physique. But then he was pulled away from it, and he didn’t know whether that felt good or bad. The waterfall then disappeared, and he saw that Todoroki had switched the tap to shower.

The arm came back to his knees, and another dizzying bit of motion finished with water pelting at him, as he was pressed against something that didn’t feel hot or cold. Even though the water droplets were needle-sharp, they were cool, and Katsuki sank into it, feeling the water soothe the bonfire under his skin. He wasn’t sure how long he was under the spray before his mind finally cleared enough to focus on his surroundings. Katsuki was laying against Todoroki, who was holding him up by his waist, in Katsuki’s shower. Katsuki decided to be embarrassed about this later, when he didn’t feel so shitty and when Todoroki wasn’t keeping him from drowning in his own shower.

“‘roki?” Katsuki groaned, his voice weak and quiet. But thankfully Todoroki still heard him.

“Yes, Bakugou?”

“I don’ feel so good.” Katsuki said, looking up at Todoroki. He must’ve looked like a drowned cat, his hair soaked and stuck to his forehead, his clothes soaked to the skin, his skin showing through his white tank top, Katsuki didn’t think he’d ever looked so pathetic in his life.

“No shit.” Todoroki muttered grumpily. “You couldn’t have said that a few hours ago?”

Katsuki ducked his head a little, his cheeks were already flushed but the pink got a little stronger. “Couldn’t. Can’t be weak. Specially not in front of you.”

That made Todoroki pause, and then meet his eye again. “Me?”

Katsuki nodded shakily.

“Why?” Todoroki breathed, the shower louder than both of their voices.

“Because… you’re so strong.” Katsuki mumbled, the fever that still raged within him loosening his tongue. If he were coherent, he’d rather be caught dead than saying shit like this, but he was still so hot and the water felt so good and his mind felt so worn thin that he just kept talking. “Noticed the first day I saw you. Never met anyone like you. Stronger than me. Pissed me off.”

Todoroki scoffed. “Of course it would.” a sigh. “But why would that mean you can’t be ‘weak’ around me?”

“Weakness doesn’t get notice. ‘N like that. Wanted notice.”

There was another beat of silence. Katsuki turned his head into Todoroki’s cooler side, using him as an ice pack for his still aching head.

“Are you saying that you thought I wouldn’t notice you if I thought you were weak?” Todoroki murmured, his voice low and uncertain.

His body was starting to get wracked with tremors, but he managed a nod through it. He couldn’t tell if he was shivering or shaking, just feeling his body vibrate, and the bonfire inside him was starting to win the battle against the water. His body went limp as the fire began to consume him, his eyes rolling around in his head.

“I, I… Bakugou? Bakugou, what’s wrong? Bakugou!” Todoroki’s voice jumped in emotion, in worry, but Katsuki could no longer differentiate the emotions. Todoroki was little more than a red and white blur now, Katsuki’s world spinning faster than a top, black spots dotting his vision, growing larger with each rotation. His mind lost all sense of reality, darkness swirling around him like a maelstrom. Voices again rang in his ears, but he couldn’t distinguish one from another.

“-hear me? Bakugou, can you hear me?”

“He was talking a minute ago, but…”

“-unresponsive -get him to the infirmary- covery girl can- hurry…”

Someone grabbed his arms, hauling him into the air, and the sudden movement had him blacking out entirely, falling into the black hole the maelstrom had created.

~~

Consciousness was murky, muddying his perception into something unintelligible as he slipped in and out of the darkness always on the edge of his mind. He wasn’t sure how long it took for his mind to clear, but the longer time went on, he sluggishly began to become more aware of his surroundings. He discovered new pain in his hand, but the agony in his head had subsided a great deal, though it wasn’t entirely gone. He was laying on something familiar but uncomfortable, his body propped up against it. To his immense relief, he found that he wasn’t on fire for the first time in what felt like days. 

Dazedly, he opened his eyes, immediately squinting at the bright overhead lights. It took him a minute to adjust, but the light didn’t increase his headache much, so he managed easily enough. White walls came into focus, along with cool, white sheets on the bed he couldn’t remember getting in, with a light blue canvas on his chest. He pulled lightly at it, confused, and pulled his hand up to his vision. No wonder it hurt, there was an IV stabbed through his hand, drawing out a noise of discomfort. He felt like he hadn’t slept in years, his mind struggling to keep up with the world around him.

Footsteps had his head immediately turning, his instincts sharper than any discombobulation, and he made another discovery, movement didn’t make him dizzy anymore. But that didn’t answer the question of what had happened, but the old woman walking towards him at least contributed to it. He knew this room, this was the infirmary, but he couldn’t remember how he got here.

“Ah, young Bakugou, I was wondering when you’d come back to us.” The old bat said, sounding far too cheerful.

He frowned at her, trying and failing to process her words in time as Recovery Girl walked up to his bed. His head still swam in uncertainty, cognizance lagging out like one of his friends’ video games. She stood on one of her little step-stools, coming up to his level, patting his hand gently before putting something uncomfortable in his ear. He groaned, attempting to turn away, but she cupped his cheek, gently but firmly keeping him in place.

“Keep still, it’s alright.” Her voice was as gentle as her hand, but that didn’t soothe him much. “Just a few seconds more.”

A quiet beeping and she kept her word. “38.44 (101.2). Much better, considering you came in at 40.5 (104.9). Any higher and you might’ve had permanent brain damage.”

Oh shit. That was bad. That was very bad. A brief flash of fear ran up his spine, a spike of anxiety panging in his stomach.

“Wha’ happ’n?” Katsuki asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

“A stress fever.” She replied, handing him a little paper cup of water. His hand was shaking a little as he took it, but he kept her help to a minimum. “Unsurprising, considering the amount of stress you all are under, you especially. Normally, they’re not an issue, and they fade rather quickly, but you’re a special case. As you know, your sweat can’t cool you down like most people so you’re easily affected by fevers. Since you didn’t come to me, or do anything to reduce it, your fever just worsened and worsened until your body couldn’t take it anymore. You’re very lucky that Todoroki and Kirishima found you when they did.”

Jumbled memories came to the forefront of his mind, of Kirishima’s voice in his room, a hand on his forehead, of Todoroki carrying him, holding him as they lay in the shower. Fuck, that was embarrassing, and the chastising Recovery Girl was giving just made him feel even worse.

“Didn’t notice.” He said, needing to defend himself, his pride leaving him unable to do anything less. After all, it wasn’t like he’d done this on purpose. He may hate being in this damn room, but he wasn’t stupid enough to not seek medical help when he was seriously sick. He just honestly hadn’t noticed something was wrong until it was too late. He’d dealt with plenty of hot and uncomfortable days before so he thought yesterday had been no different. “Not til af’r dinner. Don’t get sick.”

“Yes, young Midoriya said that.” Recovery Girl sighed. “As did your parents when I called them. They said since they’re currently in Madrid, they’d do their best, but the flight home is rather long, even without layovers. Hopefully, by the time they do get here, you’ll be fever free.”

Well, his day just got a lot worse. Katsuki hated it when his parents had to pick him up from school. He didn’t need his parents to come and fuss over him, he wasn’t a baby.

His unhappiness must’ve shown on his face, since Recovery Girl just tutted at him. “Give them a break, you gave them quite a scare. You’ve gotten very good at that.”

Katsuki huffed, definitely not pouting.

“Really, I should’ve expected something like this to happen.” She muttered. He cocked his head in confusion. “It’s been a week since I’ve had one of you in here, and if someone from 1A isn’t in here, something is very wrong.”

He had to admit, that seemed like solid logic. He was classmates with the biggest dumbasses he’d ever met, and they were all klutzy and accident prone, and that was off the battlefield.

“Speaking of your classmates,” ah hell, what do those idiots want now? “when you’re feeling up to it, you’ll have plenty of visitors.”

Oh fuck no, he was not doing that. His classmates were so emotional, crying and pitying and all sorts of terrible shit he hated being around. He got uncomfortable when one of his friends was upset, he couldn’t take the whole class. Leaving before Recovery Girl said he could sounded like a much better option. He’d rather get yelled at than deal with all of his dumbasses.

“Try to get out of this bed and I’ll sedate you.” Recovery Girl said bluntly. Katsuki deflated, miserably becoming resigned to his fate. Obviously, this was just going to be one of the shittiest days of his life and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I’ll keep them from overwhelming you.” She said sympathetically, patting his hand again, and that was at least something. Normally, he would’ve snapped that he didn’t need her pity, but he could tell it wasn’t pity. He didn’t quite know what it was, but anything was better than pity. “But for right now, you should get some sleep. Let your body’s natural processes heal you. I’d much rather have your body heal itself, I don’t like how high a dosage of fever reducer I have to give you to help you fight this. I want to take you off that as soon as I can.”

Ah, that explained the IV, and why his mind wasn’t working right. He’d seen his idiot friends on too much cold medicine before, he’d just never experienced it himself until now. It was a lot more disconcerting than he would’ve thought. Next time, he’d have to watch more closely when one of his idiots got sick, this fucking sucked.

Sleep did sound like a fantastic idea, though. Keeping up with this conversation was taking far too much energy than it should’ve, and Katsuki was just fucking done. Even better, if he slept the rest of the day away, he could avoid all of the extras and idiots who wanted to ‘visit’ him and annoy him with their presence. The medication was no doubt keeping his spite under control, as when Recovery Girl stepped down to do other shit he didn’t give a fuck about, he could just close his eyes and let the exhaustion that been on the edge of his mind since he woke up take him without much resistance.

When the Past Comes Calling, I Can't Breathe

Day 1 Panic Attack, Day 2 Trust Issues, Day 11 Loneliness, Day 13 Team as Family, Day 14 Left for Dead, Day 15 Childhood Trauma, Day 28 Exposure

When an old "friend" of Katsuki's resurfaces, he tries hard to keep that sludge villain incident a secret from his squad. Unfortunately, it's harder said than done.

Class 1-A had been kept inside of UA’s walls for a while, and as soon as they were given the greenlight to finally go out again now that they all had their provisional licenses, Katsuki’s extras roped him into a trip to the arcade. He hadn’t wanted to go with them, but one of the conditions Aizawa-sensei had set was they had to go in groups, and his extras were some of the few in their class that Katsuki could stand, so he was left with little choice. The allure of going outside and not having people stare at him or whisper about him just out of earshot was worth dealing with his extras being overly excited and overdramatic for a little while. They’d gone back to their system of having one person choose their destination, as they had done before the dorm system, and it was Sero’s turn. He’d chosen to go to the arcade, and Katsuki figured at least he’d have some fun wiping the floor with his extras at all the games.

Somehow, the day had actually been going rather smoothly, as they hadn’t gotten kicked out yet, they hadn’t broken anything in their enthusiasm, and the only time they air hockey puck went off of the table, which surprisingly hadn’t been his fault, no one had gotten hurt. Katsuki had actually smiled a couple of times after watching his extras play, and seeing their disappointed faces whenever he won. He really should’ve known better than to trust and let his guard down a little thinking it would just be a simple day with his extras. His life was never that easy anymore.

“Hey, Katsuki. Long time no see.”

Katsuki went completely still, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as a voice he hadn’t heard in months drifted back into his ears.

“Come on, Katsuki, don’t ignore me. We’ve been friends for too long for that.”

Katsuki’s temper flared at that, feeling like he wanted to tear the bastard’s face off, but he tried his best to keep his anger under control. His fists however seemed to have different ideas, and he only noticed he’d been crushing his cup when soda started to spill down his hand.

He took a shaky, deep breath, turned towards the bastard, and said, “I have no idea who you are. Leave me alone.” Then he turned to his extras, who had mercifully been very absorbed in the shooting game they’d been playing, and just muttered, “I’m getting another drink.”

His extras acknowledged him briefly, and he stormed off to the nearest trash can, hoping that the damn bastard would get the hint and leave him alone. But it seemed the bastard was just as stupid as he was in middle school, and followed him.

“Don’t be such an asshole, Katsuki. Just because I didn’t end up going to UA doesn’t mean you can ignore me now.”

Katsuki whirled around, facing Koshinuke, his heart still pounding in his chest from anger and an emotion he was trying to smother with anger. He wanted to scream in this fucker’s face, he wanted to tear his throat out, but he couldn’t, that would draw too much attention, so he just settled on a low growl filled with hatred. “I told you, I don’t know who you are, leave me alone.”

Koshinuke rolled his eyes, and lightly glared at him. “You can’t just pretend you don’t know me, asshole. Come on, we’ve been friends for years, and suddenly when you get into UA, you just block everyone and drop off the face of the planet? Not cool, man.”

Katsuki’s hand clenched even harder on the paper cup, and he threw it into the trash can as hard as he could, some drops of soda still spilling down his hand. “I won’t tell you again, leave me the fuck alone.”

“What? Are you afraid to be seen with me with your big shot UA friends, or something?” Koshinuke asked presumptuously. “You can’t just ignore the past.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened as keeping his temper under control became even harder. Middle school Katsuki probably would’ve blown him up, but he didn’t want to ruin today for his extras, they’d been so restless and antsy being kept inside the dorms all the time. If he used his quirk, they’d get kicked out and he just couldn’t do that to his extras.

“You have no right to bring up the past with me, you selfish bastard.” Katsuki hissed, his voice full of venom. “You ever think I fucking blocked you because I didn’t want to fucking talk to you ever again after what you did to me?”

Koshinuke scoffed. “Seriously, dude, are you still mad about that? That was forever ago.”

“Time makes no goddamn difference, you abandoned me to that thing.” Katsuki growled, some of his emotions leaking into his voice.

“We knew you’d be okay.” Koshinuke dismissed. “You’re Bakugou Katsuki, you can do anything. You always said you could.”

“Don’t throw my own fucking words back in my face, you traitorous bastard!” Katsuki’s heart was beating so loud, everyone in this arcade should’ve been able to hear it, and he didn’t think it was only from righteous anger.

“Ugh, why are you still so mad about that, Katsuki?” Koshinuke sighed as if Katsuki was annoying him. “You’re fine now. You got into UA, you’re becoming a hero, everything you always said you’d do, you did. It’s not like it really did anything to you.”

“That’s not the goddamn point.” Katsuki sneered. “And stop calling me Katsuki, you lost that right a long time ago.”

“Why are you being so sensitive, dude?” Koshinuke groaned. “I swear, you’re sounding like pathetic Deku or something.”

Katsuki had never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly in his life. His body was trembling with anger, his heart was beating out of his chest, and his fingernails were digging into his palms as he tried his best to keep his anger under control.

“ You left me there to die. ” Katsuki whispered out, his voice gravelly and rough as his throat closed as he spoke.

“This guy bothering you, man?” Katsuki was startled to hear Kirishima, but his extras were suddenly behind him, looking mildly upset. They must have finished their game and gone looking for him when he hadn’t returned.

“We’re old friends from middle school.” Koshinuke said, smiling in a way that made Katsuki want to stab him in the eye.

“No we’re not.” Katsuki stated flatly. “And yes, he is bothering me. I told him to leave me alone, get him out of my sight before I blow this whole damn building.”

The words had thankfully come out like an order, but there had been an inflection in his voice he hadn’t wanted. He just hoped his extras chalked it up to him being ridiculously angry.

“You heard him, beat it.” Kaminari said, looking as serious as he could be. In any other situation, Katsuki would’ve found it hilarious. “Kacchan doesn’t want you around.”

“Yeah, leave us alone, dude.” Sero said. “We don’t want any drama, okay?

Koshinuke seemed affronted by his extras. “Katsuki, come on, we’re friends-”

“Don’t make us get the security guard.” Kirishima interrupted, crossing his arms. “Bakugou told you to leave him alone, I suggest you listen this time. Trust me, man, you don’t want this fight.”

Koshinuke looked between his extras, still looking offended, but when all of his extras glared right back, moving closer to him as if to protect him, something they’d started after Kamino, he finally backed off to Katsuki’s relief.

“Fine, whatever, man. Guess you’re still the same asshole you always were.” Koshinuke scoffed, sneering at him. “Hope you all enjoy being an asshole’s lapdog.”

Koshinuke put his hands in his pockets and stormed off. Katsuki was still trembling with anger, but hopefully his heart would calm down soon. He wasn’t sure why it was beating so fast, it didn’t usually, but he hadn’t been this angry since Ground Beta.

“You okay, dude? You seem really upset.” Kirishima said, placing his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off.

“I’m fine. The fucker just wouldn’t leave me alone.” Katsuki said, still glaring at the bastard’s back as he walked away. He held up his hand, which was still covered in sticky soda, and he just sighed in annoyance. “Need to fucking wash my hands. I’ll be back.”

Before his extras could say anything, he stalked off the bathroom, trying to hide how his hands were shaking. He ran his hands under the cold water, scrubbing them intensely, and tried to push the interaction out of his mind. His breathing was coming faster and faster, and his heart was beating so hard in his chest it was painful. His wet hands then came to his throat, clawing at it as breathing suddenly became much, much harder than it should be.

Suppressed memories started to break through to his mind’s eye, flashing across his eyes and devastating them with his power. The sight of his shaking hands in the shower as he scrubbed his body raw trying to get rid of the feeling of sludge all over his body, his stomach rolling as he still felt disgusting no matter how hard he scrubbed. The panic that had been caused by the attack, the fires that had started, the way his quirk had turned from a defensive measure into an uncontrollable weapon for the villain. Coughing as much as he was breathing, feeling the villain’s sludge go down his throat, only being allowed to breathe on the villain’s terms. His friends staring in terror at the monstrosity swirling around him, his arm still outstretched as he silently begged for their help. Watching in horror as the people he thought were friends turned around and ran away from him, abandoning him to be at the villain’s mercy, letting his body get swallowed by the darkness he couldn’t escape on his own.

Katsuki crashed to his knees, his soapy hands still clawing at his throat, his heart beating so hard it must be cracking his ribs. Up until that point, Katsuki had never felt so close to death, and now it felt like he was right back there, his body trembling and weakening from the inescapable power of the memories that seemed to be slowly killing him.

“-kugou! Bakugou! Katsuki!” A strange hand grasped his, holding it tightly.

Instinctively, Katsuki’s quirk went off, as if trying to protect himself from a threat he couldn’t recognize. But the hand stayed, unaffected by his explosion, and another hand then cupped his cheek. Again, Katsuki’s hand came to the foreign feeling, setting off another firecracker. Again, the hand didn’t pull away, and Katsuki didn’t know why.

It took a little bit, but eventually Katsuki recognized a red blur, recognizing the color of Kirishima’s hair anywhere. He blinked hard, just now realizing that he was crying and that was why he couldn’t see, trying to focus on the sight of his friend to keep him grounded.

“You can do it, Katsuki, just try to breathe with me, okay?” Kirishima said, pulling Katsuki’s hand to Kirishima’s chest. He breathed in slowly, a soft voice besides them counting to four, and then breathed out as the voice counted to seven.

Breath slowly scraped through Katsuki’s lungs, his body still trembling as he tried his best to focus on his friends. The voice belonged to Mina, who wore the same worried expression that Kirishima did as Katsuki became dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“Maybe we should call Aizawa-sensei.” He heard Sero whisper to Kirishima. “Or take him to the hospital, he’s not calming down.”

Katsuki whimpered as he shook his head quickly, as the thought of someone else seeing him like this made his skin crawl. He was still gasping for air, but he managed to whisper, “no hospitals.”

“Katsuki, you’re having a panic attack.” Kirishima said, still squeezing his hands. Ah, Kirishima had his quirk activated on his hands, that’s why the explosions hadn’t worked. As much as he didn’t want to be touched right now, he was somewhat glad he hadn’t hurt his friend. “I really think you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again, his stomach twisting painfully, knowing that a trip to the hospital would only lead to negative outcomes. “Please. No hospitals.”

Kirishima bit his lip with his shark teeth, and Katsuki saw the uncertainty in his friends’ faces. The tiny part of his logical mind that wasn’t being drowned out by panic told him he needed to calm down or his friends would take him to the hospital. While the panic was still strong, while his body still trembled, he tried to match the four-seven breathing pattern Kirishima and Mina had shown him. Encouraged by Katsuki’s attempts, Kirishima squeezed his hand again and started breathing deeply again, keeping Katsuki’s hand pressed against his chest.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually his breathing finally calmed down to meet the four-seven pattern his friends were giving him. The dizziness that had sent his stomach rolling finally calmed down, and while stray tears were still streaming down his cheeks, he could finally breathe again, letting him think clearly.

“You back with us, Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid to set him off again.

Katsuki wanted to shove his friends away, to scream at them to leave him alone, but he didn’t have the strength to. Instead he just nodded, still panting.

“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Kaminari asked, and Katsuki just glared at him. He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, got it, stupid question, shutting up.”

“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Mina asked, staring at him with her raccoon eyes, emotion shining within them.

“‘Ts nothing.” Katsuki muttered.

“Bullshit, you don’t have panic attacks for nothing.” Kirishima said, and he wondered when his friends had gotten so good at calling him out. “Come on, dude, you gotta tell us what happened. We’re your friends. Did that guy hurt you or something?”

Katsuki shook his head, and thought for a moment. His extras were like dogs with bones, once they were on the trail of something, they never let it go. He hated revealing any weaknesses to anyone, but he supposed they had just talked him down from a panic attack, and they’d want to ‘help’ him. But since he still didn’t want to talk, his still shaking hand felt around for his phone for a moment, and then pulled it out. He searched up the story, as he knew it had made the news, and then held his phone out for them to read.

His friends looked confused, but they took the phone from him. All of his friends crowded around so they could all read the article.

“All Might defeats sludge type villain… hey wait a minute I remember this, it was on the news.” Sero said, staring at the phone with a puzzled expression before his eyes went wide and his voice became incredulous. “Wait a minute, that was you? ”

Katsuki just nodded curtly.

“Oh my god, this is about you? ” Mina said, gesturing to the article. “You were the one that he…”

Katsuki nodded again.

His friends’ faces went white and he looked down at the floor, unable to take the emotions in their eyes. Kirishima squeezed his hand again, disarming his quirk so he just felt his friend’s calloused skin.

“Dude, I’m so sorry- I, I mean,” Kirishima sputtered, “We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Are… you okay?” Kaminari asked hesitantly.

Katsuki nodded again, even if his body was still trembling and the occasional tear still ran down his cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kirishima said, his voice sounding far too sincere for Katsuki to handle. “We’re your friends, you can tell us stuff like this. We’re here to support you.”

Katsuki glared at Kirishima. “It was none of your business.”

Kirishima winced as if he’d been expecting that answer.

“But… wait a minute.” Sero said. “If this happened because you got attacked by a villain, then… what does that guy have to do with it?”

Katsuki squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Just drop it, okay? This has nothing to do with you. It’s none of your business.”

That got him looks from all of his friends.

“Bakugou, we’re your friends.” Kirishima said. “When some random asshole hurts you, we’re here to help you. We care about you.”

“Besides, it kinda became our business when we needed to talk you down from a panic attack.” Sero said plainly.

“Yeah. So stop being mister stoic and secretive and emotionally repressed for a little bit, okay?” Mina added. “Just talk to us.”

“I’m not emotionally repressed.” Katsuki murmured petulantly.

“Kacchan, you’re the king of being emotionally repressed.” Kaminari deadpanned. “Come on, man. We- we need to know why we need to beat up that guy if we ever see him again.”

That got Katsuki to snort, chuckling a little at his friend’s idiocy. Katsuki took a deep breath and sighed. His stomach was still twisting painfully, but his heart was at least calming a little being surrounded by his friends. There was still a part of him that wanted to scrub his skin raw again, but it was calming down the longer his friends’ spent hovering over him.

“I… was walking home like I always did. Was hanging out with that bastard and another idiot from middle school. We were… taking a shortcut, deciding what to do for the day. We… went into this alleyway, and then this wall of sludge came up from the sewers. Grabs me. And those two fucking cowards… they turned and ran at the first fucking sign of trouble. Left me to deal with it alone. I was fine, of course, All Might was right around the corner, it was nothing, but… I couldn’t forgive them for just leaving me there. Haven’t talked to them since.”

Katsuki kept his eyes on the ground, able to sense his friends’ godawful pity in their eyes without needing to see it. His friends knew him well enough that that last bit of bravado was fake. He could tell by how hard Kirishima was squeezing his hand.

“That’s so horrible.” Mina said, her voice wavering a little. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“I told you, it was nothing!” Katsuki snapped.

“Oh yeah, it was totally nothing.” Sero muttered, rolling his eyes and glaring at him. “It was so nothing that you were sent into a panic attack just by seeing that asshole again.”

Katsuki matched his glare. Sero didn’t back down.

“So we’re totally actually beating them up if we ever see them again, right?” Kaminari asked, breaking the tension a little.

Katsuki breathed out a soft chuckle. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“We’re not saying you need us to fight your battles.” Sero smirked. “We’re just saying that if we ever see those guys again, they’re just gonna accidentally get punched in the face a couple dozen times. No biggie.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Katsuki scoffed quietly.

“Yeah, but trust me, we want to.” Kaminari said with a soft, idiotic smirk. “No one abandons our Kacchan to die and gets away with it.”

Katuki’s eyes went wide, looking at Kaminari in shock. “What… did you just say?”

“Oh um. When- when we were walking over to you after I kicked Sero’s ass-”

There was a soft interruption of “We fucking tied! That last kill didn’t count!”

A beat.

“After I finished kicking Sero’s ass, I um, kinda heard you say that he- that he left you for dead.” Kaminari said, obviously trying to be light despite the subject matter, trying to play it off as if it was nothing. “So yeah, we’re gonna punch those guys, like, a lot. They fucking suck.”

Katsuki flushed red, unaware that his friends had heard that part of the conversation. Fuck. He opened his mouth to dismiss his own words, but he couldn’t come up with anything that would actually work. Fuck.

Kirishima squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay, Bakugou. You don’t have to say anything.”

Kirishima then let go of him and stood up. “I think we should all go home. I’m kinda tired. What about you guys?”

“No.” Katsuki said. “You were all so excited to get out of the dorms for a little while. I’m fine, let’s go back to playing.”

His legs were still shaking a little, but Katsuki managed to get himself up. His friends hovered over him a little, as if waiting to catch him if he fell. Katsuki held his head up, and looked them all in the eye. His friends’ exchanged a couple of worried glances, but they eventually nodded, letting him not be held back by this as he wanted.

“Yeah, sure, man.” Sero said. “I say Kami owes me a rematch from earlier, we fucking tied!”

Katsuki felt a tiny smile grace his lips, and then Kirishima slung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. This time, Katsuki let it stay a whole three seconds longer than he usually did.

When the Past Comes Calling, I Can't Breathe

Day 1 Panic Attack, Day 2 Trust Issues, Day 11 Loneliness, Day 13 Team as Family, Day 14 Left for Dead, Day 15 Childhood Trauma, Day 28 Exposure

When an old "friend" of Katsuki's resurfaces, he tries hard to keep that sludge villain incident a secret from his squad. Unfortunately, it's harder said than done.

Class 1-A had been kept inside of UA’s walls for a while, and as soon as they were given the greenlight to finally go out again now that they all had their provisional licenses, Katsuki’s extras roped him into a trip to the arcade. He hadn’t wanted to go with them, but one of the conditions Aizawa-sensei had set was they had to go in groups, and his extras were some of the few in their class that Katsuki could stand, so he was left with little choice. The allure of going outside and not having people stare at him or whisper about him just out of earshot was worth dealing with his extras being overly excited and overdramatic for a little while. They’d gone back to their system of having one person choose their destination, as they had done before the dorm system, and it was Sero’s turn. He’d chosen to go to the arcade, and Katsuki figured at least he’d have some fun wiping the floor with his extras at all the games.

Somehow, the day had actually been going rather smoothly, as they hadn’t gotten kicked out yet, they hadn’t broken anything in their enthusiasm, and the only time they air hockey puck went off of the table, which surprisingly hadn’t been his fault, no one had gotten hurt. Katsuki had actually smiled a couple of times after watching his extras play, and seeing their disappointed faces whenever he won. He really should’ve known better than to trust and let his guard down a little thinking it would just be a simple day with his extras. His life was never that easy anymore.

“Hey, Katsuki. Long time no see.”

Katsuki went completely still, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as a voice he hadn’t heard in months drifted back into his ears.

“Come on, Katsuki, don’t ignore me. We’ve been friends for too long for that.”

Katsuki’s temper flared at that, feeling like he wanted to tear the bastard’s face off, but he tried his best to keep his anger under control. His fists however seemed to have different ideas, and he only noticed he’d been crushing his cup when soda started to spill down his hand.

He took a shaky, deep breath, turned towards the bastard, and said, “I have no idea who you are. Leave me alone.” Then he turned to his extras, who had mercifully been very absorbed in the shooting game they’d been playing, and just muttered, “I’m getting another drink.”

His extras acknowledged him briefly, and he stormed off to the nearest trash can, hoping that the damn bastard would get the hint and leave him alone. But it seemed the bastard was just as stupid as he was in middle school, and followed him.

“Don’t be such an asshole, Katsuki. Just because I didn’t end up going to UA doesn’t mean you can ignore me now.”

Katsuki whirled around, facing Koshinuke, his heart still pounding in his chest from anger and an emotion he was trying to smother with anger. He wanted to scream in this fucker’s face, he wanted to tear his throat out, but he couldn’t, that would draw too much attention, so he just settled on a low growl filled with hatred. “I told you, I don’t know who you are, leave me alone.”

Koshinuke rolled his eyes, and lightly glared at him. “You can’t just pretend you don’t know me, asshole. Come on, we’ve been friends for years, and suddenly when you get into UA, you just block everyone and drop off the face of the planet? Not cool, man.”

Katsuki’s hand clenched even harder on the paper cup, and he threw it into the trash can as hard as he could, some drops of soda still spilling down his hand. “I won’t tell you again, leave me the fuck alone.”

“What? Are you afraid to be seen with me with your big shot UA friends, or something?” Koshinuke asked presumptuously. “You can’t just ignore the past.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened as keeping his temper under control became even harder. Middle school Katsuki probably would’ve blown him up, but he didn’t want to ruin today for his extras, they’d been so restless and antsy being kept inside the dorms all the time. If he used his quirk, they’d get kicked out and he just couldn’t do that to his extras.

“You have no right to bring up the past with me, you selfish bastard.” Katsuki hissed, his voice full of venom. “You ever think I fucking blocked you because I didn’t want to fucking talk to you ever again after what you did to me?”

Koshinuke scoffed. “Seriously, dude, are you still mad about that? That was forever ago.”

“Time makes no goddamn difference, you abandoned me to that thing.” Katsuki growled, some of his emotions leaking into his voice.

“We knew you’d be okay.” Koshinuke dismissed. “You’re Bakugou Katsuki, you can do anything. You always said you could.”

“Don’t throw my own fucking words back in my face, you traitorous bastard!” Katsuki’s heart was beating so loud, everyone in this arcade should’ve been able to hear it, and he didn’t think it was only from righteous anger.

“Ugh, why are you still so mad about that, Katsuki?” Koshinuke sighed as if Katsuki was annoying him. “You’re fine now. You got into UA, you’re becoming a hero, everything you always said you’d do, you did. It’s not like it really did anything to you.”

“That’s not the goddamn point.” Katsuki sneered. “And stop calling me Katsuki, you lost that right a long time ago.”

“Why are you being so sensitive, dude?” Koshinuke groaned. “I swear, you’re sounding like pathetic Deku or something.”

Katsuki had never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly in his life. His body was trembling with anger, his heart was beating out of his chest, and his fingernails were digging into his palms as he tried his best to keep his anger under control.

“ You left me there to die. ” Katsuki whispered out, his voice gravelly and rough as his throat closed as he spoke.

“This guy bothering you, man?” Katsuki was startled to hear Kirishima, but his extras were suddenly behind him, looking mildly upset. They must have finished their game and gone looking for him when he hadn’t returned.

“We’re old friends from middle school.” Koshinuke said, smiling in a way that made Katsuki want to stab him in the eye.

“No we’re not.” Katsuki stated flatly. “And yes, he is bothering me. I told him to leave me alone, get him out of my sight before I blow this whole damn building.”

The words had thankfully come out like an order, but there had been an inflection in his voice he hadn’t wanted. He just hoped his extras chalked it up to him being ridiculously angry.

“You heard him, beat it.” Kaminari said, looking as serious as he could be. In any other situation, Katsuki would’ve found it hilarious. “Kacchan doesn’t want you around.”

“Yeah, leave us alone, dude.” Sero said. “We don’t want any drama, okay?

Koshinuke seemed affronted by his extras. “Katsuki, come on, we’re friends-”

“Don’t make us get the security guard.” Kirishima interrupted, crossing his arms. “Bakugou told you to leave him alone, I suggest you listen this time. Trust me, man, you don’t want this fight.”

Koshinuke looked between his extras, still looking offended, but when all of his extras glared right back, moving closer to him as if to protect him, something they’d started after Kamino, he finally backed off to Katsuki’s relief.

“Fine, whatever, man. Guess you’re still the same asshole you always were.” Koshinuke scoffed, sneering at him. “Hope you all enjoy being an asshole’s lapdog.”

Koshinuke put his hands in his pockets and stormed off. Katsuki was still trembling with anger, but hopefully his heart would calm down soon. He wasn’t sure why it was beating so fast, it didn’t usually, but he hadn’t been this angry since Ground Beta.

“You okay, dude? You seem really upset.” Kirishima said, placing his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off.

“I’m fine. The fucker just wouldn’t leave me alone.” Katsuki said, still glaring at the bastard’s back as he walked away. He held up his hand, which was still covered in sticky soda, and he just sighed in annoyance. “Need to fucking wash my hands. I’ll be back.”

Before his extras could say anything, he stalked off the bathroom, trying to hide how his hands were shaking. He ran his hands under the cold water, scrubbing them intensely, and tried to push the interaction out of his mind. His breathing was coming faster and faster, and his heart was beating so hard in his chest it was painful. His wet hands then came to his throat, clawing at it as breathing suddenly became much, much harder than it should be.

Suppressed memories started to break through to his mind’s eye, flashing across his eyes and devastating them with his power. The sight of his shaking hands in the shower as he scrubbed his body raw trying to get rid of the feeling of sludge all over his body, his stomach rolling as he still felt disgusting no matter how hard he scrubbed. The panic that had been caused by the attack, the fires that had started, the way his quirk had turned from a defensive measure into an uncontrollable weapon for the villain. Coughing as much as he was breathing, feeling the villain’s sludge go down his throat, only being allowed to breathe on the villain’s terms. His friends staring in terror at the monstrosity swirling around him, his arm still outstretched as he silently begged for their help. Watching in horror as the people he thought were friends turned around and ran away from him, abandoning him to be at the villain’s mercy, letting his body get swallowed by the darkness he couldn’t escape on his own.

Katsuki crashed to his knees, his soapy hands still clawing at his throat, his heart beating so hard it must be cracking his ribs. Up until that point, Katsuki had never felt so close to death, and now it felt like he was right back there, his body trembling and weakening from the inescapable power of the memories that seemed to be slowly killing him.

“-kugou! Bakugou! Katsuki!” A strange hand grasped his, holding it tightly.

Instinctively, Katsuki’s quirk went off, as if trying to protect himself from a threat he couldn’t recognize. But the hand stayed, unaffected by his explosion, and another hand then cupped his cheek. Again, Katsuki’s hand came to the foreign feeling, setting off another firecracker. Again, the hand didn’t pull away, and Katsuki didn’t know why.

It took a little bit, but eventually Katsuki recognized a red blur, recognizing the color of Kirishima’s hair anywhere. He blinked hard, just now realizing that he was crying and that was why he couldn’t see, trying to focus on the sight of his friend to keep him grounded.

“You can do it, Katsuki, just try to breathe with me, okay?” Kirishima said, pulling Katsuki’s hand to Kirishima’s chest. He breathed in slowly, a soft voice besides them counting to four, and then breathed out as the voice counted to seven.

Breath slowly scraped through Katsuki’s lungs, his body still trembling as he tried his best to focus on his friends. The voice belonged to Mina, who wore the same worried expression that Kirishima did as Katsuki became dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“Maybe we should call Aizawa-sensei.” He heard Sero whisper to Kirishima. “Or take him to the hospital, he’s not calming down.”

Katsuki whimpered as he shook his head quickly, as the thought of someone else seeing him like this made his skin crawl. He was still gasping for air, but he managed to whisper, “no hospitals.”

“Katsuki, you’re having a panic attack.” Kirishima said, still squeezing his hands. Ah, Kirishima had his quirk activated on his hands, that’s why the explosions hadn’t worked. As much as he didn’t want to be touched right now, he was somewhat glad he hadn’t hurt his friend. “I really think you need to go to the hospital.”

He shook his head again, his stomach twisting painfully, knowing that a trip to the hospital would only lead to negative outcomes. “Please. No hospitals.”

Kirishima bit his lip with his shark teeth, and Katsuki saw the uncertainty in his friends’ faces. The tiny part of his logical mind that wasn’t being drowned out by panic told him he needed to calm down or his friends would take him to the hospital. While the panic was still strong, while his body still trembled, he tried to match the four-seven breathing pattern Kirishima and Mina had shown him. Encouraged by Katsuki’s attempts, Kirishima squeezed his hand again and started breathing deeply again, keeping Katsuki’s hand pressed against his chest.

Katsuki wasn’t sure how long it took, but eventually his breathing finally calmed down to meet the four-seven pattern his friends were giving him. The dizziness that had sent his stomach rolling finally calmed down, and while stray tears were still streaming down his cheeks, he could finally breathe again, letting him think clearly.

“You back with us, Bakugou?” Kirishima’s voice was barely a whisper, as if afraid to set him off again.

Katsuki wanted to shove his friends away, to scream at them to leave him alone, but he didn’t have the strength to. Instead he just nodded, still panting.

“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Kaminari asked, and Katsuki just glared at him. He nodded, grimacing. “Yeah, got it, stupid question, shutting up.”

“Okay, what the hell just happened?” Mina asked, staring at him with her raccoon eyes, emotion shining within them.

“‘Ts nothing.” Katsuki muttered.

“Bullshit, you don’t have panic attacks for nothing.” Kirishima said, and he wondered when his friends had gotten so good at calling him out. “Come on, dude, you gotta tell us what happened. We’re your friends. Did that guy hurt you or something?”

Katsuki shook his head, and thought for a moment. His extras were like dogs with bones, once they were on the trail of something, they never let it go. He hated revealing any weaknesses to anyone, but he supposed they had just talked him down from a panic attack, and they’d want to ‘help’ him. But since he still didn’t want to talk, his still shaking hand felt around for his phone for a moment, and then pulled it out. He searched up the story, as he knew it had made the news, and then held his phone out for them to read.

His friends looked confused, but they took the phone from him. All of his friends crowded around so they could all read the article.

“All Might defeats sludge type villain… hey wait a minute I remember this, it was on the news.” Sero said, staring at the phone with a puzzled expression before his eyes went wide and his voice became incredulous. “Wait a minute, that was you? ”

Katsuki just nodded curtly.

“Oh my god, this is about you? ” Mina said, gesturing to the article. “You were the one that he…”

Katsuki nodded again.

His friends’ faces went white and he looked down at the floor, unable to take the emotions in their eyes. Kirishima squeezed his hand again, disarming his quirk so he just felt his friend’s calloused skin.

“Dude, I’m so sorry- I, I mean,” Kirishima sputtered, “We’re glad you’re okay.”

“Are… you okay?” Kaminari asked hesitantly.

Katsuki nodded again, even if his body was still trembling and the occasional tear still ran down his cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kirishima said, his voice sounding far too sincere for Katsuki to handle. “We’re your friends, you can tell us stuff like this. We’re here to support you.”

Katsuki glared at Kirishima. “It was none of your business.”

Kirishima winced as if he’d been expecting that answer.

“But… wait a minute.” Sero said. “If this happened because you got attacked by a villain, then… what does that guy have to do with it?”

Katsuki squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Just drop it, okay? This has nothing to do with you. It’s none of your business.”

That got him looks from all of his friends.

“Bakugou, we’re your friends.” Kirishima said. “When some random asshole hurts you, we’re here to help you. We care about you.”

“Besides, it kinda became our business when we needed to talk you down from a panic attack.” Sero said plainly.

“Yeah. So stop being mister stoic and secretive and emotionally repressed for a little bit, okay?” Mina added. “Just talk to us.”

“I’m not emotionally repressed.” Katsuki murmured petulantly.

“Kacchan, you’re the king of being emotionally repressed.” Kaminari deadpanned. “Come on, man. We- we need to know why we need to beat up that guy if we ever see him again.”

That got Katsuki to snort, chuckling a little at his friend’s idiocy. Katsuki took a deep breath and sighed. His stomach was still twisting painfully, but his heart was at least calming a little being surrounded by his friends. There was still a part of him that wanted to scrub his skin raw again, but it was calming down the longer his friends’ spent hovering over him.

“I… was walking home like I always did. Was hanging out with that bastard and another idiot from middle school. We were… taking a shortcut, deciding what to do for the day. We… went into this alleyway, and then this wall of sludge came up from the sewers. Grabs me. And those two fucking cowards… they turned and ran at the first fucking sign of trouble. Left me to deal with it alone. I was fine, of course, All Might was right around the corner, it was nothing, but… I couldn’t forgive them for just leaving me there. Haven’t talked to them since.”

Katsuki kept his eyes on the ground, able to sense his friends’ godawful pity in their eyes without needing to see it. His friends knew him well enough that that last bit of bravado was fake. He could tell by how hard Kirishima was squeezing his hand.

“That’s so horrible.” Mina said, her voice wavering a little. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“I told you, it was nothing!” Katsuki snapped.

“Oh yeah, it was totally nothing.” Sero muttered, rolling his eyes and glaring at him. “It was so nothing that you were sent into a panic attack just by seeing that asshole again.”

Katsuki matched his glare. Sero didn’t back down.

“So we’re totally actually beating them up if we ever see them again, right?” Kaminari asked, breaking the tension a little.

Katsuki breathed out a soft chuckle. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“We’re not saying you need us to fight your battles.” Sero smirked. “We’re just saying that if we ever see those guys again, they’re just gonna accidentally get punched in the face a couple dozen times. No biggie.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Katsuki scoffed quietly.

“Yeah, but trust me, we want to.” Kaminari said with a soft, idiotic smirk. “No one abandons our Kacchan to die and gets away with it.”

Katuki’s eyes went wide, looking at Kaminari in shock. “What… did you just say?”

“Oh um. When- when we were walking over to you after I kicked Sero’s ass-”

There was a soft interruption of “We fucking tied! That last kill didn’t count!”

A beat.

“After I finished kicking Sero’s ass, I um, kinda heard you say that he- that he left you for dead.” Kaminari said, obviously trying to be light despite the subject matter, trying to play it off as if it was nothing. “So yeah, we’re gonna punch those guys, like, a lot. They fucking suck.”

Katsuki flushed red, unaware that his friends had heard that part of the conversation. Fuck. He opened his mouth to dismiss his own words, but he couldn’t come up with anything that would actually work. Fuck.

Kirishima squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay, Bakugou. You don’t have to say anything.”

Kirishima then let go of him and stood up. “I think we should all go home. I’m kinda tired. What about you guys?”

“No.” Katsuki said. “You were all so excited to get out of the dorms for a little while. I’m fine, let’s go back to playing.”

His legs were still shaking a little, but Katsuki managed to get himself up. His friends hovered over him a little, as if waiting to catch him if he fell. Katsuki held his head up, and looked them all in the eye. His friends’ exchanged a couple of worried glances, but they eventually nodded, letting him not be held back by this as he wanted.

“Yeah, sure, man.” Sero said. “I say Kami owes me a rematch from earlier, we fucking tied!”

Katsuki felt a tiny smile grace his lips, and then Kirishima slung an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. This time, Katsuki let it stay a whole three seconds longer than he usually did.

Day 2 : Again.

Luffy relives the worst day of his life, over and over again.

I wasn't inspired by today's prompts so I chose one of the alternatives: Time Loop. Since I didn't have time to write everything, I'll post loop by loop as I go along, instead of all at once. This story is quite hard to read (and write), so pay attention to the warnings and take care of yourself above all <3 Trigger Warnings: - Graphic Description of Violence - Blood and Injuries - Burns - Major Character Death Fandom : One Piece (Anime & Manga) Character(s) : Monkey D. Luffy Relationship(s) : Monkey D. Luffy & Portgas D. Ace Words Count : 1,548 No. 2: ALTERNATIVE  Time Loop

First Loop

Luffy struggled to retrieve Ace's Vivre Card that was slipping from his fingers. It was in front of him, just inches away, and yet unreachable. He didn't really know why, but he had to retrieve that Vivre Card. It was important, it was a part of Ace. He couldn't lose it. Nothing else mattered. The outside world faded into the background around him — the screams of agony, the smell of blood and smoke, the corpses he was stepping on to escape — leaving only the small burning piece of paper in his field of vision. 

(Ace had been burned by Akainu. His big brother, the one who always walked two steps ahead of him, unreachable and strong , the living embodiment of fire, had been burned . Sabo had died in the flames of an explosion. Luffy had forgotten it, but big brothers could burn too.)

Luffy's hand finally closed around Ace's Vivre Card and the panic that clouded his mind subdued. He had succeeded, Ace wouldn't leave him.

He had promised.

“You won't leave here alive!”

Luffy looked up and met Ace's desperate gaze. Why was Ace looking at him like that? He should be happy, Luffy had his Vivre Card back.

“Luffy!”

The flaming fist of Absolute Justice charged at him, invading his field of vision until all he could see was flames — stories whispered by a campfire, the burn of the Grey Terminal fire on his skin, Ace's arm around his shoulders in the middle of winter — and bloody red.

Oh.

Luffy wanted to move, should have moved, but he couldn't. The world was so fast when he was so slow, exhaustion slowing all his movements to the very core of his bones.

(If his crew was there, he could have rested for five minutes before going back into battle, but Luffy was alone .)

Suddenly, without Luffy understanding what was happening — he was so tired — Ace was in front of him, smiling sadly. Luffy's eyes widened in horror as he noticed the fist through Ace's body. The smell of burning flesh hit him in the face and Ace vomited blood, a retch shaking his entire body.

Akainu stepped back, removing his fist from Ace's body carelessly, Ace's guts falling to the ground, bloody and steaming. There was a hole in Ace's torso, where his lungs should have been. The skin around the wound was burned raw, sizzling with blisters and peeling away to the bone. And amidst the mess of ruined and damaged flesh, hidden behind his broken ribs, his brother's still beating heart. 

Thud, thud, thud.

Luffy focused on Ace's fading heartbeat, clinging to his brother's last breath of life. Ace wasn't dead yet! Luffy could still save him. Luffy remembered yelling at Akainu who was raising his fist once more to finish Ace off, but he didn't remember Jinbei and Ace's friends intervening.

Everything vanished when Ace fell to his knees in Luffy's arms. Luffy caught him, his hand red, red, red when he looked at it after touching Ace's back. Luffy placed his hand on the wound, trying to stop the endless bleeding. Ace slid into Luffy's arms, his head falling onto his shoulder, and Luffy tightened his grip around Ace, refusing to let him go.

"I'm sorry, Luffy," Ace struggled to say, choking. "I'm so sorry, I stopped you from saving me properly. Forgive me.”

Ace was breathing heavily, just talking, draining him of his meager strength. Blood was dripping down Luffy's shoulder in large drops.

"What are you talking about? Stop talking nonsense!"

Ace wasn't dying, Luffy could still feel his heart beating between his fingers. Ace wasn't dying. He couldn't die. He had promised. He couldn't die.

"Someone!" Luffy begged, screaming until his vocal cords broke, feeling the heat leave Ace's body. “Heal his wounds! Save Ace!”

Luffy didn't like the cold. Cold meant being alone in the night, cold meant an empty place in the treehouse. Cold meant Death.

"Luffy stop," Ace said weakly. "My time has come. He burned me from the inside out, I won't make it this time.”

And Ace was never weak. He was bold and brash and mean at times, a raging fire. Never weak, always strong. Ace was the reason Luffy survived Sabo's death. Because Ace was strong where Luffy wasn't, learning to be kind and caring for Luffy.

Ace was strong .

Luffy wasn't.

“No! You promised”! Luffy refused, understanding what his big brother meant. “You told me Ace, right? You said you wouldn't die!”

Because Ace was strong but he was also stupid. He forgot obvious things sometimes and Luffy had to remind him. Like the fact that Luffy loved him. But if Luffy reminded him of his promise, then maybe Ace wouldn't die.

“You promised,” Luffy stopped himself from sobbing. Ace didn't like whiners.

“You know, if it wasn't for Sabo, if I didn't have a little brother like you to watch over. I wouldn't have wanted to live.” Luffy's heart clenched painfully in his chest. “No one wanted me after all. So it's completely normal.”

Ace clung to Luffy like a lifeline, as if Luffy was the only thing keeping him alive. Luffy was terrified that he wouldn’t be enough to keep Ace alive for a little longer.

“Oh right, if you ever run into Dadan again, could you say goodbye for me?” Ace laughed softly, his laughter cut off by a coughing fit. “It’s strange, now that I’m about to die, I feel like I miss her.”

Ace’s breath was labored, his voice hoarse. And Luffy didn’t dare look — because if he did, he’d have to face his big brother’s dying face — but he was pretty sure Ace was crying, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“I only have one regret, and that’s not seeing your dream come true. But I know you, you’ll get there, that’s for sure.” Ace and Sabo had been among the first to hear his dream, among the first to believe in him. “You're my brother after all.”

Luffy had two brothers. One had been dead for over ten years, the other was dying in his arms. Who was going to believe in his dreams now?

And yet Luffy couldn't do anything. He was frozen, afraid that the slightest movement would make things worse. The only thing he could do was hold his brother in his arms as he died, hoping that Ace would feel all the love Luffy had for him.

Ace was loved. He had to know that, right ?

"As we promised each other back then, I have no regrets about the life I led."

This time, Luffy couldn't help but protest. This wasn't how it was going to end. It couldn't be.

(Ace's heartbeat was getting slower and slower, more and more rare.)

"No, you're lying!"

"No, it's true!" Ace insisted, his fingers digging painfully into Luffy's shoulder with a surprising strength for a dead man. “It seems that what I always wanted in the end wasn't fame or glory. But just the answer to my question. Why did I come into this world? "

Ace had always been haunted by his past, by the past of those who had come before him, that of his parents. But Luffy didn't live in the past, he didn't care who Ace's father was. What mattered was the present, what mattered was that Ace was Luffy 's brother.

Ace was Ace and that was all that mattered. Ace had always been enough.

"Luffy, I want you to listen to what I have to say and tell the others afterwards," Luffy knew at that moment that his brother's words would be his last. He wasn't ready for that. “Even though I've been a good-for-nothing my whole life, even though I carry the blood of a demon.”

The fighting raged around them and yet it had never been interrupted. Ace's family fought to give them one last moment, one last hug.

"Thank you for loving me!"

Crying, Ace formed a smile on his lips for the last time. Ace collapsed in Luffy's arms, his hand falling from Luffy's neck where Ace had clung to during his final moments, leaving a trail of blood along Luffy's cheek.

Ace fell to the ground, alive one moment, dead the next, and Luffy screamed out all his pain and sorrow, inaudible amidst the horrors of war. Ace was dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. 

Ace was dead.

Ace.

Was.

Dead.

Ace was dead.

Years of memories flashed through Luffy's mind in a split second - all ending with the same tragic phrase "thank you for loving me", all ending with Ace's death - shattering his psyche to the last piece.

They were always meant to end up here - Ace, dead and Luffy, helpless - there was nothing Luffy could have done to change things.

“ACE!!!”

In the end, when the darkness reached out to him, Luffy welcomed it willingly. Luffy fell into nothingness, hoping to never come out. Not if it meant living in a world alone.

Click. Again .

Kate Bishop does not want a protege. Maybe in a decade or so, when her joints start to stiffen. But at twenty-seven, she doesn’t think she’s quite adult enough to adult someone else.

Much less this someone else.

In Bad Hands

Whumptober, Day 2 (Kidnapped)

AO3 Link

Mr. Stark wouldn’t speak to him --- would not even look at him --- and neither would anybody else as the Quinjet rose above the smoking ruins of the warehouse that he, Peter, and the rest of the Avengers had finished raiding. Peter thought that the sudden silent treatment was wildly unfair, considering that probably for the first time since he’d been going on actual missions with (rather than against) the reassembled Avengers, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

In fact, he’d gone out of his way to do everything right, even though it had meant that Peter had had to hang back and keep on the perimeter. And he hadn’t complained once.

When Tony deliberately angled his face away from Peter’s questioning gaze, Peter set his jaw and stared at the steel floor beneath his booted feet. Impotent anger bucked in his chest, but he tried not to come off as petulant while desperately wishing he could shove on his mask again without looking suspicious.

I wanted you to be better.

Peter felt like he was reliving the aftermath of the Ferry incident, except this time, he didn’t understand what else he could have done. Clearly, he hadn’t done enough.

Peter felt like he was reliving the aftermath of the Ferry incident, except this time, he didn’t understand what else he could have done. Clearly, he hadn’t done enough.

Peter looked up when Natasha lightly sat down on the bench beside him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tony’s eyes flick their way and his fingers twitch like he wanted to do something, say something instead of letting the silence fester, but when Peter glanced that way, Tony was already looking away, toying with a disassembled watch. Peter swallowed and turned towards Natasha, whose face was a little stonier than usual but who was actively not ignoring him.

“What did I do?”

He kept his voice low because he was pretty sure that if he spoke up, he might do something stupid like start crying in front of everybody. Ever since the Ferry, he’d strived to stay on Mr. Stark’s good side. But it wasn’t just Mr. Stark this time. It was Steve, who had marched him up the ramp and told him to sit down right after the fight had come to an early, flaming close. It was Sam, who wouldn’t stop casting him weird glances like he thought Peter wasn’t noticing. He hated letting anyone down, and especially the Avengers. But, he thought again as the disappointment in himself was burned away by angry heat, the least they could do was tell him what he did wrong. He’d take a lecture at this point.

Natasha faced him, and Peter looked up, when he realized she was actually going to answer him --- until Tony, eyes gliding right over Peter, straightened and shot Natasha a sharp look.

“ Nat .” 

Well, it was one word more than he had spoken to Peter since they’d boarded, but it may as well have been a whole conversation. Natasha tilted her head, eyes steely, but Tony’s face remained hard until she finally caved. Peter shot her a disbelieving look. Natasha’s lips pulled in a pitying smile.

“You did good today, Peter,” she said finally, patting him on the shoulder gently before standing and moving towards the cockpit.

Peter jerked his head back towards Tony, eyes flashing. “Really?”

But he was already looking away.

Peter bit his tongue so hard he almost drew blood. He levelled his gaze determinedly back at the floor and kept it there until his eyes stopped burning, then for the rest of the way back which passed in tense silence.

As soon as the Quinjet touched down on the landing pad at the Avengers Compound, Tony was on his feet, making a break for the door and almost knocking down Sam in the process. Peter was hot on his heels, heart pulsing. He didn’t want to stay the night at the Compound like he was originally going to unless he got an explanation --- or at least a piece of one.

But he barely made it five yards --- not even through the frosted glass double doors --- before Tony whipped around, stopping Peter in his tracks. Sam and Steve averted their eyes from the silent standoff, going around them to get inside. Natasha cast Tony a warning glance but he didn’t seem to see her.

“I want you to let this go,” Tony said finally, when it was just them. 

Peter balked. “Let this go ? Just ignore the fact that for some reason everyone is refusing to talk to me? To look at me? But I should just let it go.” He let out a sarcastic scoff. Tony’s sharp gaze didn’t waver, maybe even grew sharper. “What did I even do, Mr. Stark?”

Tony didn’t say anything for a beat. Then, “We’re not doing this.”

Peter’s jaw almost dropped in angry disbelief, but Tony was already turning around and marching through the doors, calling behind him, “Go check in with Helen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The doors shut before Peter even moved. Then he was angry again, so angry he felt hot, as he followed Tony into the building. His mouth was open, a yell already forming, but then he saw Sam and Steve, eyeing him as he eyed Tony --- who walked past them deeper into the Compound with a fleeting, shared glance --- and Peter snapped his mouth shut. He didn’t want to do this in front of them, especially when they’d already proven that they were going to take Tony’s side.

Casting one last angry glance Tony’s way, he walked towards his room where he had dumped his overnight bag, hands shaking. Peter slammed his hand against the spider emblem on his chest as soon as the door clicked shut behind him, stepping out of the suit and kicking it away when it tangled around his ankles. He had probably never changed into his clothes so aggressively, and even the soft cotton of the gray sweatpants or the faded NYPD hoodie that used to belong to Uncle Ben didn’t make his anger subside.

Peter was lying down on his side on his bed, mindless going through his phone but not quite succeeding in distracting  himself. When Tony approached his door fifteen minutes later, Peter tensed and set his phone down, waiting for the knock that came a few seconds later.

“Who is it?” Peter called, knowing exactly who it was.

Tony’s reply was curt. “You never checked in with Medbay.”

“I’m fine.”

Peter waited for Tony’s response which came after a long sigh. “Can I come in?”

“Are you going to talk to me?”

The door opened. Peter sat up, eyeing Tony skeptically. Tony barely breached the doorframe. “Even if you’re mad at me, Peter, you need to go make sure---”

“I told you I’m fine,” Peter said shortly. “And you are the one who was mad at me first. I’m only mad because you won’t tell me why.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw ticked. “Go check in with Helen.”

“Tell me what happened first,” Peter challenged, clenching his fists.

Tony shot him an irritated glance that Peter didn’t care for. “Peter, I don’t know what to tell you---”

“What happened ---”

“--- except ,” Tony snapped. “That you’re just going to have to trust me.”

Peter shot to his feet. “Trust you? What, trust you like you trust me? Because I don’t think that you’re going to like that particular brand of trust, Mr. Stark.

Tony’s eyes flashed and he crossed his arms. “Watch your tone, kid.”

Peter scoffed bitterly. “You don’t get to tell me what to do if you’re not going to---”

“Don’t I?” Tony countered, livid.

Blood rushed in Peter’s ears. “No. You don’t.”

Tony’s eyes flicked down towards the side of the bed. “I think the suit on your bed says otherwise.”

Peter looked at the suit, crumpled and wrinkled, and when he looked his face set. “You want to hold the suit over my head? When I didn’t even do anything? Then take it.”

Tony recoiled, surprised, but he still caught the suit when Peter thrusted it towards him. “Peter---”

Peter was already whipping around him and grabbing his backpack off the floor, shoving the spilled clothes in it with trembling hands. “I’m going home.”

“Peter, don’t---”

“I’m going home,” he repeated fiercely, jerking to his feet with the backpack on his shoulders and swiping the back of one hand across his eyes. “And you can call me when you want to actually talk. I’m not doing this.”

Peter ignored Tony calling after him as he left the room, chest heaving and eyes burning. He had never meant for either of them to go this far, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Peter, head back to the jet.”

“What? Mr. Stark, but the fight---”

A loud explosion --- the warehouse going up in flames. Peter was surprised --- it was supposed to be one of their more simpler missions.

“Is over for you,” Tony finished harshly. “Fall back.”

“What did I do---”

“Damnit, Peter! Listen to me.”

A harsh tone, so cutting that Peter inhaled sharply. But he listened.

And that hadn’t been enough.

Peter was halfway across the wide field in front of the Compound when a car swerved to a halt in front of him --- wrecking the grass in the process. Peter’s mouth fell open as Happy got out of the front door.

“Did you not hear me calling you?” Happy barked, but Peter caught the underlying concern. He shook his head minutely. Happy looked at him and sighed. “I’m not letting you walk home. Get in.”

Peter wanted to argue but that was a long walk, and he was tired, and even if Tony had sent Happy --- which he must’ve --- Peter was willing to overlook it. Plus, he didn’t want to have to fight Happy about it. Happy wasn’t the one flipping out on Peter during missions for no reason.

“Fine.”

Happy glanced at him, almost relieved, before getting back in. Peter cast a glance towards the Compound before sliding into the backseat. He was the one to press the button on the back of the console and put the partition up. 

He opened his phone as the car pulled back onto the main road, leaving flattened emerald grass behind it. His fingers hovered over calling May but he decided to text her instead.

Hey May, change of plans. I’m coming home tonight.

Her response chimed in a few minutes later: You just managed to catch me on my break. Is everything okay? I have a double but I can call out and we can hang out tonight?

Peter chewed on his lip. No, I can talk to you later. Larb you.

He could practically feel her concern through the phone but he didn’t let himself change his mind: Larb you honey. Call me if you want to talk earlier. I’ll be back around midnight.

Okay.

He closed the app and shoved his earbuds into his ear, playing some music, leaning his head against the window, and letting his eyes fall closed for a bit. He just wanted the day to be over.

-+-

Peter had expected the apartment to be empty and lonesome when he arrived, but he didn’t expect for the quiet to be so… suffocating. May was gone and Tony would probably continue not to talk to him for the foreseeable future and he was exhausted.

Peter dropped his backpack into his room before reemerging to make some food. As if prompted by the sudden hunger, his head started to ache: low and dull at the back of his skull. And persisting. Two glasses of water and a generous bowl of mac and cheese later, it hadn’t gone away, had maybe even worsened.

Peter wrapped himself up in a blanket and laid on the couch, switching on the TV and switching to Big Bang Theory, something he used to watch with Ben. It didn’t make him feel better, and even though he had been so tired in Happy’s car, it was like he’d just chugged coffee. 

But Peter tried to sleep anyways, headache be damned, and he might have succeeded if the blaring sound of his Star Wars theme ringtone hadn’t stirred him out of the uneasy drowsiness he’d managed to achieve. Peter blindly pawed for his phone, accepted May’s call with a blurry-eyed swipe of his thumb, and held it to his ear.

“May?”

“Peter,” May breathed. Peter’s chest tightened and he sat up. Something about her voice made his spider sense go berserk. Peter clutched the phone tightly, flicking his eyes around the shadowy apartment. Searching for threats that weren’t there, at least not disguised amongst the darkness. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, May,” he said slowly, heart strumming. “I’m here. What’s going on?”

She was trying to keep her voice light but Peter knew better, knew his aunt even without his spider sense warning him that something was wrong, something was so wrong, he needed to get to Aunt May. His head started to pound.

“I’m on my way up to our floor,” May said tensely. “I need you to let me in when I get there, okay?”

Peter bit his tongue so hard he almost tasted blood. “Okay. Whatever you want. I’ll do it, just make sure you’re safe okay?”

The message wasn’t for her.

“I’m here.”

On cue, three slow knocks sounded against the front door. The call ended and Peter dropped his phone on the couch. He could hear them --- his aunt just outside the door and two people with her.

“Peter,” his aunt called, voice strained, as if she knew he was hesitating --- or knew what he’d give up to keep her safe. “Open the door, honey.”

He had no choice, but there was a lesser evil --- to let them in and keep her safe, no matter what price he had to pay. Peter opened the door, and the urge to throw up curdled in his stomach.

There was a gun to his aunt’s head.

Peter had never seen his aunt afraid --- not like this. Not like she was then, stuck between two men in dark clothing with a handgun pressed against her temple.

Peter recognized the man on her left, and he wished he hadn’t, because that meant that this was Peter’s fault and Peter didn’t know how he could live with himself if he lost the best thing he had. He wouldn’t let that happen --- one way or another.

Mac Gargan offered him a twisted smile. “Aren’t you going to let us in?”

Peter glanced between May and Gargan and the man who he didn’t know and nodded stiffly. May let out a hitched breath that made Peter’s blood heat as they shouldered her through the door. Peter’s fingers twitched.

“What do you want?”

Peter didn’t recognize his own voice --- stony, cold. He stood as still as marble by the door, praying he wouldn’t set the men off. All he could do was watch as they dragged a chair out from the kitchen and roughly pushed May into it. Peter clenched his jaw shut so tightly he thought he’d break his teeth. 

He’d definitely knock out theirs if Aunt May wouldn’t be the one paying the price.

Mac Gargan nodded to his buddy and handed off the gun. Peter watched the interaction, muscles so tense he thought he would snap in half if any of them so much as looked at May the wrong way. 

He couldn’t make a move for them --- not yet. Not even as Gargan’s pal kept the handgun leveled at the back of May’s head: May, who was watching him with thinly veiled fear. 

May, whose eyes flicked to Gargan who had moved to rummaging through the kitchen and then back to Peter before she said calmly, “They think you’re Spider-Man.”

Peter managed to school his features at the last second, eyeing Gargan with confusion that he prayed looked genuine as the scarred man reemerged from the kitchen with a thick roll of duct tape. 

“I’d watch your mouth, Ms. Parker,” Gargan’s buddy threatened lowly. “I’d hate to have to hurt you.”

Peter shot his eyes at Gargan, who was eyeing Peter strangely. Peter wished he could sing his praise to May because it looked like she’d hit on something --- Peter didn’t think she would have said that if Gargan knew for sure.

“I don’t understand,” Peter said.

“You can wait your turn,” Gargan snapped at him before pulling his gaze away from Peter and marching towards his aunt. “We’ll have this conversation once my insurance is… secured.”

Peter made a frantic movement forward that was quickly aborted once the gun hovering above May’s hair was shoved forward against her head --- a clear warning for Peter to back. Peter was helpless, but he backed up.

The duct tape made a ripping sound as Gargan started to unroll it. “Relax, Parker. I’m not going to hurt her. Not a lot, anyways.”

“Don’t---”

“ Peter ,” May interjected, shaking her head minutely.

Gargan scoffed out a mean laugh. “Your aunt’s a smart woman. I’d hate for you to make me do something to her that I’d regret.”

We both know you wouldn’t regret it.

But he stayed still as Gargan rolled the duct tape around and around her arms and her legs and the chair until he was satisfied. Peter wished he would have left it at that because the anger that surged through him when Gargan pressed a strip of tape to his aunt’s mouth made his blood boil.

“There we go,” Gargan said appreciatively, stepping away and throwing the lighter roll of duct tape onto the counter. He faced Peter, eyes growing dark. “And now we talk.”

“I’m not Spider-Man,” Peter said instantly, as Gargan’s pal lazily played with the gun behind May’s chair.

Gargan scowled, sidling up to Peter and running his eyes over his face. “See, your aunt said the same thing, but I think you’ll forgive me for not believing you, yes?” When Peter shot him a hopeless look, Gargan smiled. “I think I’ll have a look through the bedrooms. And then, I think you, me, and Louis will go somewhere more private to talk.”

“Louis,” Gargan continued to the man above May’s head. “You watch him. He makes a move from his spot, you shoot her, understand?” Peter bristled. Gargan noticed and grinned at him. “Just in case.”

Gargan disappeared down the hallway and Peter was forced to wait --- wait as he heard their stuff picked at by a criminal. He tried to talk to May in the minutes that followed, but when Louis shook his head, Peter wasn’t willing to test it, knowing that he couldn’t get across the room before Louis could get a shot off --- and it would only take one shot. Peter wasn’t about to let anything like that happen. He settled for flashing May a reassuring smile that she couldn’t return.

You’re going to be fine. I won’t let anything else happen to you.

May flinched when a bout of cursing sounded from his room. A satisfied smile threatened to pull at his lips but he stifled down the urge. Clearly, Gargan hadn’t found what he was looking for --- Tony had Peter’s suit, and the rest of Peter’s tech was either in the ceiling or disguised.

Sure enough, Gargan stomped out of the rooms like a maniac. Peter expected Gargan to go for him, but the man snatched the gun from Louis and waved it in the air like an idiot. An idiot that Peter was still unwilling to cross.

“Where is it?” Gargan demanded. 

“Where is what?” 

“The suit ,” Gargan spat, face red. “I didn’t lose everything for you to---”

Peter was the one flinching when the gun fired, and for a moment, his heart stopped until he realized that the bullet had gone through the ceiling, a result of Gargan’s wild arm movements. Peter glanced at Gargan in horror, Gargan who was eyeing Louis frantically.

“You think anyone heard that?” Gargan asked. Louis only nodded and Gargan swore. “ Shit. Fine, we’re leaving.” Peter didn’t have a second to be relieved before Gargan’s eyes snapped to his. “You’re coming with us, Parker. Unless you want me to---”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Peter said instantly. “Just take me, and we can leave, okay?”

He glanced at May, whose eyes were bulging in fear. He could tell she didn’t want him to go with him. He offered her a small smile. I’m sorry.

Gargan fished through his pockets and produced a little vial that Peter couldn’t begin to guess what was. Nothing good, but he doubted it was deadly, even knowing Gargan’s contacts. It would probably put him to sleep for a while --- long enough for them to get him wherever they wanted.

Gargan held it out. “Drink it.”

Don’t be stupid, Parker.

Peter could almost hear Tony’s voice and regret clenched in his chest --- regret that was snuffed out as soon as he saw Aunt May, sitting in the chair, screaming something against the duct tape that made Peter’s heart crack.

“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” Peter asked, gripping the vial in his hands.

“I guess you don’t,” Gargan said, but the smile dropped off his face once he saw the look on Peter’s. “I’ll call the police myself. Make sure they know where to find her when I’m gone. When we’re gone.”

It wasn’t much of a promise, but considering that Peter’s options were to refuse and let them shoot May then and there or go with it and do everything it took to make them keep their word, Peter uncapped the vial and held it to his lips. The liquid tasted like battery acid sliding down his throat.

The effects were immediate. Peter swallowed the rest of it and let out a sharp cough. His vision was swimming, head filling with air, knees wobbling, buckling, body tilting forward until he was on his back at May’s feet, gasping for breath as he looked at the ceiling with dimming consciousness. 

Gargan and Louis were saying something to each other, but it sounded garbled and far away. Peter felt hands on him, pulling him up up up into the air before his vision collapsed in on itself like a dying star, leaving a black hole in its place which dragged him down… down… down.

-+-

Peter had never drank alcohol before, but he imagined being hungover felt a little like the way he did when he woke up. Peter groaned and lifted his head, instantly aware of the pressure of something thick and cold around his neck. A metal collar with what he was sure were tiny prongs on the inside that dug into his skin.

A collar. Peter felt his stomach flip --- he’d never been humiliated like this.

Peter shifted in his chair, already aware of the cuffs on his wrists that kept his arms behind his back. He didn’t recognize the room he was in. It was dark, and damp, and windowless, like they were underground. Maybe they were --- Peter didn’t remember being moved, where they had taken him.

Taken.

It all came back to him at once: May, Gargan, and even his fight with Tony that almost guaranteed that help would be delayed.

Peter straightened, resisting the urge to snap his cuffs --- he was pretty sure he could, but Peter didn’t want to show his hand just yet: not if Gargan hadn’t made up his mind. As if summoned by Peter’s thoughts, Peter heard footsteps. Voices. Gargan and Louis, close by and getting closer:

“You didn’t find the suit?”  Louis.

“I ransacked the bedroom, and nothing,” Gargan seemed pissed. Peter vaguely wondered how long he’d been out --- how long Gargan had had to fester over the truth. “ It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out. One way or another, the kid will talk.”

Louis let out an exasperated breath. “I didn’t get into this for you to not be sure. ”

A tense pause. “Are you questioning me, Louis?”

“ I’m not--- look. I need this money, okay? We can’t hand over the wrong person, Gargan.”

“Then trust me, Louis. This is the right guy. I’ve heard his voice.”

“He’s just a kid, though.”

“He’s old enough to know when to quit. Instead, he stuck his nose in places it didn’t belong and now he’s paying for it.” A pause. “He got me arrested, ruined everything for me. And he was there, at the warehouse when it was destroyed. My whole team scattered, man. You’re the only one I’ve got.”

“I know, ” Louis breathed, and the footsteps were picking up again; they were getting closer. “ What do we do if we’re wrong?”

Gargan stopped, probably mulling it over. “Give him back to his aunt. We can’t have the feds on our backs anymore than they are. If he gets returned, we find Spider-Man, get the money, and get the hell out of here.”

May was okay. Peter had never felt relief so potent --- so Gargan had left her. How could he return Peter to his aunt if she was dead? He couldn’t have. Peter seized the thread of hope and latched onto it. He could get through this.

“I’m guessing you have a plan, then?”

“ Always. Follow my lead. ”

The door swung open. Peter pretended like he had just been sleeping and eyed them with bleary eyes.

“Good morning, Parker. Or should I say, Spider-Man?”

Peter tried to look confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gargan nodded at Louis, who slipped his hand into his pocket. Peter didn’t understand what was going on until the collar around his neck came to life with a surge of electricity that had pain searing his neck. Peter’s muscles were frozen --- he couldn’t scream, could only writhe violently in his chair before the current stopped.

“You like it?” Gargan asked, sounding far away. “I got it from my old friend. The Shocker. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

Peter sagged backwards in his chair, head thrown up to the ceiling as his breaths came in short pants. Gargan kept speaking.

“What about my question? Did that refresh your memory?”

Peter eyed them harshly. “I’m not---”

He cut off with a jagged gasp, seizing up again, feeling his brain melt from the pain that took his breath away. Gargan glanced at Louis, who pressed something that halted the electricity. Peter’s eyelids fluttered, already tired.

“I don’t know how much you know about me,” Gargan said lowly, next to Peter’s ear. “But I don’t like liars.”

Peter managed to roll his head so he could glance at Gargan. “Why are you doing this? I’m not---”

Gargan’s face reddened and before Peter could blink, a fist was slamming into his jaw. Gargan must have been wearing some sort of rings that Peter hadn’t noticed because it felt like he had been clobbered with a brick.

“I’ll ask you again---”

“I can’t---”

Peter saw stars. His lip split and his jaw ached. Peter took a second to breathe harshly through his nose. Gargan grabbed his chin and forced them to face each other. Peter just glared.

“Tough kid,” Gargan said with a sinister smile. “But everybody breaks. Let’s see if you like knives any better.”

Peter set his jaw, refusing to give in, as Gargan stood and reached into the back pocket of his jeans. It wasn’t like he could do much --- Louis was watching him, one hand clutching a remote that Peter knew would activate the collar.

When Gargan raised his hand, it was to extend the blade of a foldable pocket knife that he threateningly waved in Peter’s direction.

“Save yourself, kid,” Gargan advised, dragging the flat of the blade along Peter’s cheekbone. “We can end this right now, alright?”

“What do you want Spider-Man for so bad?”

“Personally?” Gargan asked. “Revenge. But you would already know that wouldn’t you?”

“Who are you trying to give him to?” Peter asked, titling his head. “Who’s your contact?”

Gargan’s face darkened. “Time’s up.”

Peter tried not to flinch as he dragged the knife down, not putting quite enough pressure to cut until he got to Peter’s jaw. Peter tried to jerk his head away from Gargan’s hands but Gargan grabbed his hair with one hand to keep him still before using the one holding the switchblade to slice a line across his jaw.

Peter’s nostrils flared in his last second attempt to keep himself from making any type of noise. Gargan watched the blood drip down Peter’s face, eyes flinty and sadistic. 

“Parker.”

“I- I can’t---”

Gargan sighed and eyed Peter piteously. “I tried to warn you.”

He shoved the knife into Peter’s shoulder.

This time, Peter couldn’t cage the pained shout that it drew. Pain like white hot fire had him viciously straining against his bonds. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to suck in air as Gargan ripped the knife out. Peter tried to breathe but his lungs were working too fast and every hitched breath he took seemed to do nothing. 

“Gargan,” Louis said quickly. “Look. His face.”

Peter’s eyes blew wide with horror. He realized what Louis had seen before Gargan did. Peter couldn’t bear to look at the man as he felt the cut on his face slowly stitch itself together --- so superficial that it took seconds.

Gargan stepped back with an exhilarated laugh. “Holy shit. I was right.”

Peter’s face was burning now, red with humiliation. His secret had just been spilled, and his act had been shredded to pieces. And now he was at the mercy of a psychopath unless he could get the damn collar off but he didn’t think he could get it off before they fried his brain.

Gargan patted his shoulder roughly and Peter stifled a yell, eyeing him coldly. “You put up a fight kid, I’ll give you that.”

Peter closed his eyes, breathing hard. When he opened them, Gargan was wiping his knife on the thigh of his jeans. Peter laughed through bloody teeth.

“You’re going to pay for this.”

It was simple --- a plain fact. Gargan knew he had Spider-Man, and that meant that he got everything that came with it. But Gargan didn’t seem to get it --- didn’t seem to hear what Peter did, what was Gargan’s doom. Gargan sauntered forward, eyeing Peter with amusement that Peter couldn’t wait to see wiped off his face.

Peter only wished he could be the one to do it.

“You think so, Spider-Brat? And how do you intend to make me?”

“I don’t intend to make you,” Peter said quickly, snapping his cuffs behind his back. Gargan didn’t seem to notice. Peter jerked his head to the door that Gargan had emerged from earlier. “That’s what they are for.”

Realization settled on his scarred face too late. Peter had enough sense to close his eyes as Iron Man blasted through the door with a repulsor blast strong enough to warp steel --- and then some.

Peter was on his feet as soon as Gargan wasn’t, catapulting himself towards Louis. He was a split second too slow. He collided with Louis at the same time that Louis slammed his thumb down on the remote.

Peter hit the ground like a rock dropped into a lake, clutching desperately at the collar as he heard Tony shout, “ Stay down !” at Gargan, somewhere far off. Natasha yelled something too, dropped to her knees beside Peter whose eyes were rolling up as agony encompassed him.

The pain stopped --- and not because they had found the remote. Peter hadn’t even seen Steve, but when his proper awareness was restored, Sam and Natasha were helping Peter upright while Steve threw aside the collar that he had managed to rip in half directly off of Peter’s neck.

Peter took a deep, shuddering breath. He had thought he was done for.

“Peter.”

Peter rolled his head towards Tony, who was sprinting towards him --- the suit disassembling around him as he ran. Peter swallowed.

“I’m sorry,” Peter blurted, still trying to even out his breaths. “I had to give myself up, they were going to---”

“Peter, hey, calm down kiddo,” Tony breathed, but Peter could hear the tension in his voice that probably wouldn’t fade until Peter was delivered back to the Medbay in one piece. “May told me what happened. I’m not upset --- how could I be?”

Peter nodded, but before he could say anything else, Steve shot them both a glance. “The FBI’s on their way in. Peter doesn’t need to be here.”

Tony offered Peter a strained smile. “Right as rain, Cap.” He reached down and squeezed Peter’s hand. “The Quinjet awaits, kid. Let’s get you out of here.”

Peter was too relieved to do anything but nod.

-+-

Peter didn’t need Tony’s arm to be wrapped around him, helping him down the Quinjet ramp, but he didn’t complain. Not after the hellish experience he’d just endured. Not after he’d finally gotten Tony to explain to him what had gone down after the raid on the warehouse --- the warehouse that had apparently been inhabited by a sister group of Toomes. The place was full of salvaged Chitauri tech and was mainly operated by Gargan --- who Tony assured him had a special cell awaiting him back on the Raft, as well as a wealth of inmates that Gargan hadn’t taken with him with some righteous bones to pick. 

But that wasn’t why things had hit the fan afterwards.

“There was a lab,” Tony had explained tensely. “A research lab. And it was full of pictures of you --- of Peter Parker and of Spider-Man and a few other leads they were following. They were hunting you down, kid. I was worried. Christ, I was scared out of my mind. But I never should have taken that out on you.”

“No,” Peter had agreed softly, leaning his good shoulder against Tony’s. “Mr. Stark, if I am ever in danger like that, you have to promise you’ll tell me.”

Tony had hesitated, so Peter sat up and faced him, eyes pleading. 

“I should know,” Peter said. “Promise me you won’t hide it from me. I can’t--- I can’t be out of the loop. Not like that.”

Tony hadn’t looked happy about it, but he’d promised. Peter settled back down, tension easing slightly. He ignored the small itch in his brain that made him wonder if Tony was just saying that to make him feel better. Peter would just have to trust him. Both of them would have to trust each other.

May was waiting for him outside of the Compound, and Peter finally let himself relax once he saw her. Immediately his eyes burned, and he was too relieved that she was okay they hadn’t hurt her he had his aunt back to be embarrassed about it.

Tony let him go so that May could hug him tightly, and Peter had forgotten about the half-healed knife wound in his shoulder. “I larb you, Peter, you know that?”

Peter sniffed. “Of course I do, May. I larb you too.”

She smiled and it was a watery smile but they were both okay and alive and it didn’t matter. She leaned back and brushed a stray strand of hair out of his face. Peter watched her, pinpointing exactly when she noticed the electrical burn marks around his neck. Her fingers hovered above the marks that Peter hadn’t himself caught a glimpse of before she glanced at him with a tight smile. Peter wondered when he’d have to tell her about what had happened --- he didn’t like scaring her, but he doubted he’d be able to get out of this one.

“I guess we should get you down to Medbay, huh?” she asked lighty, stepping further away. 

Peter shrugged. May raised an eyebrow and Tony stepped beside her, already shaking his head.

“That wasn’t a question, kid,” he said. “Helen’s probably lost her mind already. You’re a popular guy, you know that?”

Peter eyed him, unimpressed, but allowed both of them to drag him inside, towards the Medbay that he was way too familiar with for his own liking. Truly, he’d rather sleep in his own room at the Compound (maybe not the apartment just yet) or grab some food, but Tony could always be counted on to sneak him the latter and May always knew how to make him feel comfortable even in the chemical-smelling, bright, often loud (for Peter) Medbay.

After that, well. Peter could roll with the rest of the punches. 

Peter Parker was extremely worried when a band of terrorists attacked his school. They didn’t even seem to be organized, but before he could do anything, the room filled up with knockout gas and he watched as his classmates struggled to keep consciousness. He eventually succumbed to its effects. When he woke up, he was trapped in a cell and his spider sense was going crazy, but that wasn’t the worst part. He was trapped in a cell with most of his fourth period class and a few other students, which included both Ned and MJ.

Disclaimer : I do not own anything!

🦊2️⃣

Whumptober Day Two: You try and backstab me?! (I'll just have to stab you first)

Varian had had all sorts of crazy dreams over the years.

From fever dreams to crazy nightmares- oh, and that one time where the creepy ghost girl (that just so happened to be a crazy demon of Zahn Tiri) snuck into his dreams and told him the secret for the final incantation and gave him slight phasmophobia. 

But none of these could compare to the dream he’d had last night.

 The room seemed to go on forever in all directions, bookshelves that looked like they were reaching for the heavens and tables covered in beakers, open books and papers with scribbled notes scattered around the room. 

“Where am I?” 

 “Varian!” He turned around and saw a woman standing in the center of the room, (or…maybe he was in a library?) Her fiery red hair was barely contained to the top of her head in a messy bun, her teal dress rumpled like she hadn’t changed in a hot minute… she looked familiar, but from where?

She cupped his cheeks in her hands “Oh my son, you're as beautiful as the day I lost you…” 

Wait, son?!

“I wish I had the time to tell you everything sweetie, but this spell isn’t going to last much longer and I have to warn you of this” she started pacing around the room, snatching books and papers in a frenzy. 

“Wait M-mom, if you could have talked to me- talked to Dad all this time… why did you wait ‘till just now?!”

He followed her, thinking she would stop and look at him for a second (Y’know, considering this was their first time meeting in 18 fucking years!) but she just kept grabbing and tossing random books and papers frantically. 

“I’ve only just harnessed enough power for this, the Library is really doing everything it can to keep me- all of me- trapped in this hell… but that doesn't matter right now” 

“S-so what did you mean, a warning? What are you warning me about?!” She turned to face him, eyes wild and frantic with the jumble of papers slipping from her arms and to the ground “

Hugo isn’t who you think he is. You can’t trust him Varian, don’t let yourself get hurt again” 

He woke up in cold sweat, fear and shock trembling through his bones. 

What the hell was that… Did… did he just meet his mother? Like, for the first time, and was the only thing she bothered to say was “Hi child I haven't seen in almost 20 years, your best friend/ kinda crush isn't who you think he is!” 

Isn’t who you think he is…

Isn’t who you think he is…

Isn’t who you think he is…

The words kept ringing in his ear, embedding themselves into his mind. Did this mean… was Hugo going to betray him? 

No no, that would never happen! Hugo was his friend- his best friend, he wouldn't…

You’ve been betrayed by friends before… who’s to say it couldn’t happen again…

No. This was what happened with Cass, she let herself be manipulated without any actual proof and it all went to shit. His friend wouldn’t do that to him, Hugo wouldn’t do that to him.

Besides, how could he know that was actually a vision of his mom? The weird dream was probably just a side effect of the new sleep tonic he’d taken earlier. 

He was a scientist, and scientists couldn’t make any conclusions without having solid evidence. He was just gonna go back to sleep (AKA go work in the lab until dawn) and move on with his life in the morning, he just needed to ignore it. 

Just ignore it. 

Turns out “just ignoring it” wouldn’t work. The weird dreams, well they weren't just a one time thing. They came almost every night, changing a bit each time with what he and his mom would talk about but always ending with the same terrible terrible sentence “Hugo isn’t who you think he is… he will betray you!” 

And yes, he tried just not sleeping to avoid the dream but he’d either crash and burn the next night from exhaustion (and drain his coffee supply during the day) or Nuru would make sure he went to bed. 

Hugo had also started acting more and more secretive after each trial, he knew he was hiding something. And he didn’t want to believe what it was…

With each new dream and the day they would finally enter the Library creeping closer, it was growing painfully obvious that his mom might be telling the truth. 

He sighed, pushing the thought aside as his head hit the pillow. He had to get some rest for when they opened the gates tomorrow… and after all, why loom over the thought when his dreams would just do it for him. 

The room was messy and slightly dark- like usual- and his mother was sitting his her favorite chair on the far side of the room, next to one of the many crowded bookshelves and a fireplace.

She was looming over a book, reading furiously and constantly pushing back strands of her red hair that had escaped her bun. 

She didn’t seem to notice Varian was here and was just mumbling some gibberish under her breath and she scribbled down notes so he went and gave her a light tap on the shoulder, she flinched but soon smiled when she saw his face.

“Oh Varian! How are you pumpkin?” After many times of doing the spell that let her into his dream, Ulla sometimes couldn’t tell the difference between this and the real world.

 “Hi mom, we finally completed the trails and are opening the gates to the Library tomorrow” Her face lit up and she slammed the book she was writing in closed.

“That’s wonderful!” she held his face in her hand, an action Varian had grown very fond of over their visits. “I can’t wait to finally see you- really, see you- again… and, Hugo?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you Mom! He’s not going to betray me!”

He couldn’t decide whether he was saying that for her to believe it… or for himself…

For her… definitely for her…

She sighed sadly and her eyes said she was pondering what to say next “I really hoped I wouldn't have to show you this… but you’ve left me no choice” 

Before he could ask what his mind started flowing with visions

A young Hugo…stealing for Donella and saluting for her…

Hugo taking the fire totem and handing it over to Donella…

Hugo joined their team once Donella ordered him to…

Hugo, copying each and every one of his notes and hanging them over to Donella 

Hugo sneaking away from camp to report to Donella 

Hugo…

Hugo… 

Hugo…

He awoke in cold sweat… but this time instead of fear, he felt only anger.

How could Hugo do this! This must be why Donella always seemed to know their next move, why she was always to step ahead no matter what Varian did! All because of Hugo…

I told you…

“What do I do now Mom?” 

Get him first! 

A dagger that he didn’t remember leaving on his windowsill gleamed in the moonlight and without thinking, he grabbed it and ran.

Hugo’s room was empty, nothing there but the small sleeping figure of Olivia. 

The woods, go to the woods!

 Running through the dark woods he felt an evil and strange sence of anger surge through him, it didn’t even seem human, he’d never felt anger like this- not even when his father got trapped in the amber. 

But it didn’t matter, all that mattered was revenge… 

He found Hugo leaning on a tree, and his blonde friend traitor jumped when he saw Varian, clearly not expecting anyone else to be there at two in the morning. 

No one but your boss, you lying rat!

 “Goggles, what the hell are you doing out here so late- well more like so early I guess” 

“I could ask you the same thing Beanpole” A nervous look flashed across Hugo’s face but it was quickly masked by his usual casual demeanor. 

“Well I-” 

“Don’t even try and hide it, he- I know everything”

 “He- what are you talking about Var? And what is going on with your eyes?” Varian’s leg flew towards Hugo’s stomach, knocking him to his knees with several choughs.

 “What the fuck!” 

“You’re working for Donella, you were going to betray him!” 

Hugo’s face went white, how did he know… and what was going on with his voice, and his eyes. His eyes seemed to be glowing.

 “My son has been hurt by people like you for far too long… I won’t let Donnie win again”

Donnie? As far as he knew only one person had ever had the guts to call his boss by that name…Varian, who wasn’t acting like Varian, pulled out a dagger and used it to point Hugo’s chin up to face him.

His eyes were definitely glowing with an evil electric blue that were not the eyes Hugo had grown to love…

“It’s a shame though… my pumpkin did really love you, but after this it won’t matter. We’ll be together again, I’ll finally be there to protect him from traitors like you” 

He felt the knife pierce through his scream and a sharp cry ripped through his street. Blood was staining his clothes and pain was radiating through his body. 

He crumpled to the ground begging for Varian to snap out of it, to help him! But his love only grinned evilly and wiped the dagger with his cloth.

 “Oh and if my Donnie finds you still alive, say hi for me, won’t you…”

No. 2 : Altprompt / Finding Old Messages

OC Whump

Hi, here is my second contribution for Whumptober !

A bit of context : Edwin is a human who, following a traumatic event involving enemies of Silver (his friend), has made a pact with a god. He became a servant of a god responsible for guiding the souls of the dead and their memories. This gave him the power he needed to take revenge, but the pact also stipulated that with each use of the god's power, he would lose a little more of his memories, his friends, his life, etc...

Also, I just want to specify that « L’Ensorceleur » is the french translation for « The Sorcerer », but I’m way too used to the French word to change it.  

If you have any questions, I'd obviously be more than happy to answer! Also, English isn't my first language, so i apologize for any mistake. Check the tags for any TW and enjoy !

There's a narrow space under the single bed. A dark crevice where nothing lives but dust motes, a few forgotten tissues and a surprisingly clean sock...?

A hand suddenly appears under the bed, groping for something. Finally, after a long minute that only earned the owner a tissue and a sneeze, a body slumped at the foot of the bed and a disheveled brown head with piercing blue eyes peered out from under the bed. The sock was promptly retrieved as soon as it was spotted, but just as the teenager who had just grabbed it was about to get up and go (now shod) about his business, his gaze fell on the last inhabitant of the place.

Edwin raised an eyebrow at the sight of a notebook under his bed. It had probably fallen there by accident. Well, this was no place to keep a notebook. Might as well remove it.

After a series of unsuccessful attempts and the use of a broom to dislodge the reluctant object, Edwin found himself with a black leather notebook, bound with a sturdy red thread. Beautifully designed, elegant, even if the scratches on the weathered leather showed it had lived.

Probably one of the dozens of old notebooks he kept. He'd always been a keen draughtsman, even if he hadn't taken to it as much recently. The cities of the old kingdom teemed with spirits and souls that demanded his attention. He no longer had as much time to do the things he loved, such as drawing, as well as other passions. Fatigue weighed too heavily on his bones.

He thought of taking a look at its contents out of curiosity. But he had a program for the day, a handful of lost souls who needed assistance to find rest and stop mingling with the mortals of this plane.

A servant of the Gods was only an extension of the one he served, after all. Even so, Edwin's situation was nothing like that of a normal servant, left to his duty without guidance, depending on where his own footsteps took him most of the time, when he wasn't spending time with his friends, when he returned to the city where they lived. His friends, like Silver and Léa...

The young man pushed aside the superficial thought and placed his find on the bedside table. He'd have plenty of time to consult it when he returned tonight.

The Beacon left his room without looking back.

*

He didn't think about it immediately on the way back. He was almost ready for bed, mentally exhausted by the afflictions of the ghosts he had assisted.

But a battered leather cover caught his eye. He stared at the innocent notebook for a moment, fatigue heavy on his eyelids. Then he reached out and pulled the booklet towards him, noticing layers tucked between the pages. Pictures ? Photos from Earth ? He was almost tempted to unravel this peculiar mystery on the spot, but Edwin had always been reasonable.

-You look a bit familiar.  Let's see what's into you, murmured the young man, gently turning the front cover.

Disappointingly, the first page of the notebook, velvety if yellowed, was covered with abstract scribbles in his own hand. Little more than a decoration, pretty and eye-catching, a prelude to most of his sketchbooks.

He searched for a date, but couldn't find it. Before he takes on the habit of indicating the date, then.

The second page featured a pencil sketch of a superb trotting horse. The sketch had a raw air, intentional or not, and managed to convey the animal's power.

The next page was a drawing of two people napping in the sun, colored in soft hues. It took Edwin a long moment to recognize Silver and Nathan, or another name in the same style. After all, they weren't that close anymore...

The next following pages were just as normal, people he more or less remembered, people he would probably have to visit soon. They'd drifted apart a bit, but they'd gotten along well at one time. Becoming a servant of a God had forced him to leave the region more often than he would have liked.

Then, on the page following a sketch of a dragon of slightly exaggerated proportions compared to reality (he knew this, even if he couldn't remember the creature itself), he came across a note. Not his own, in airy script, in faded turquoise-blue ink.

“Hey, Eddie ! Just to remind you, the gang and I made you a little memo to remind you a little of who you are. Since we talked about it not too long ago, you and I decided to create this notebook for you. You can use it as a memo of the things we've been through together, what you like and what we like about you, to tell you about us, the memories you may have forgotten. Oh, we've included dates and photos too, so don't panic ! Hope that helps. And remember, we all love you. Kisses and hurry back !”

It's signed Lea, and Edwin's heart beats hard in his chest. He stares at the message for a moment, not knowing what to make of it. Then, fingers trembling, he turned the page.

He was greeted by a photo of a dark-haired man with sun-kissed skin and bright eyes. His smile, on the close-up photo, conveyed an infectious joy.

“Hey Edwin,” said the note underneath. “It's Silver, your friend. Lea said we could tell anyone we wanted, so I'm going for it! Remember when I told you I was a wizard/werewolf ? It was at night, in September I think, and I'd just climbed in through your brother's window...”

What follows is an elaborate description of what happened that night, followed by a quick introspection of Silver's feelings towards Edwin, and ends with one of those “I love you” that comes so easily to him and an invitation to come back soon.

Eleanora is more careful in the way she writes, as she has always been in the way she is. The weight of her father's sins is felt in every word she addresses to him, every apology for what he has become. But the first memory she shares is warm and light, and leaves a longing in Edwin's chest.

The Ensorceleur’s message is hidden by a piece of paper taped over it. Some of the others have done this too, on messages of a more sensitive or private nature. This message is not sensitive, at least not in the usual sense. It’s filled with an honesty that the man rarely shows in the presence of an audience, and reminds him of an old promise. There's an invitation to return and a thinly veiled threat that revives other memories, some scarier than others and some full of reluctant affection. Sounds like him.

(Another message, coded as if it were a secret, is just a long list of colorful, imaginative insults that make him laugh.)

Some are more...difficult. Lucien's, or Valka's, give him a fairly precise idea of the emotions he's supposed to be feeling, but he doesn't actually feel them. It helps him situate their relationship from an intellectual point of view, but without feeling, everything remains cold and clinical. And that fills him with an all-consuming guilt that twists and turns in his stomach. Even the photos don't mean anything to him.

Nathaniel shares personal things about himself and what he's apparently entrusted to Edwin over the years, and hot tears roll down the Beacon’s cheeks.

Kara's page carries a strange smell of burnt wood and ashes, and a tender story of how she fell in love with someone. Tomas talks about the warmth of home and the person who convinced him he was worthy of love.

Kylsham talks about a trip they took together, and suddenly Edwin becomes aware that he's craving for a fruit he can't find here.

The notebook revives faded memories, makes him aware of others that have disappeared, and awakens emotions he now realizes he'd forgotten. The pages are worn, the words faded and the paper thinned by flipping through. How many times did he reread this diary before misplacing it ? How long has the notebook been under the bed, as forgotten as these memories ? What did he miss ? The dates make him dizzy.

All the messages have one thing in common. They all ask him to come back and see them when he can.

His mind made up, Edwin barely takes the time to put on a coat before leaving the inn, notebook under arm and ghost in step.

Whatever the pact with the god has stolen he will never fully recover. But he can try to delay the inevitable as long as possible. 

Edwin heads for home.

Whumptober day 2 - Explosion

My second fill for @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

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

Twelve seconds.

It only took him one second to think it all through. More time, and he probably would have been able to defuse the bomb. One minute would have been enough.

But he didn't have one minute, and it looked like it'd wipe out half of Brooklyn, if not all of it, when it went off.

They'd evacuated the immediate area, but that wouldn't be enough. Not even close.

Three more seconds and he'd stabilized the power source enough that he could move it without it instantly exploding in his arms.

Two more seconds to exit the building safely, without destabilizing the foundation.

That left him with six seconds to get as far away from civilization as possible.

"Iron Man, what's going on?" he heard Steve demanding over the comms as he bolted off as quickly as the armor could go, out over the Atlantic where hopefully no one would get hurt.

Except him.

"Emergency detour," he informed them. "Mind the 'bang'."

"What -" he could hear Bucky starting to ask, but there simply wasn't enough time.

With one second left, he threw it as far away as possible, arms coming up in front of his face and chest to protect himself as much as possible. He knew it wouldn't be enough.

It went off with a flash that just about blinded him. After that, there was nothing.

(He didn't feel himself hitting the water, where he started to sink quickly. He didn't feel the water entering the armor through the damage caused by the bomb. He didn’t feel the way Thor grabbed him, dragging him up and out of the water and back to the Coney Island beach, where the other Avengers were waiting for them.)

(He didn’t feel the way they carefully took off the pieces of the armor, keeping him as stable as possible, to get him ready for the ambulance. He didn’t hear Bucky begging him to hold on, to please live. He didn’t notice the way Steve had to hold Bucky back when Tony was taken away, assuring him they’d join him in the hospital as soon as they could.)

(He didn’t see the tears on Bucky’s face as the doctors told the Avengers about his injuries. He didn’t feel the way Natasha stroked his hair as he lay in the hospital bed or the way Bucky held his hand ever-so-gently. He didn’t hear the way Clint rambled at him to have something to fill the silence or the way Steve told him he’d done well even though no one was happy with this result either. He didn’t smell the food Bruce had made in hopes of waking him up. He didn’t taste the potion Thor had brought in hopes of saving his life.)

The first thing he felt was pain. It was like there was no part of his body that hadn’t been injured. Then, his brain desperate for something else, anything else, he could feel the way a hand was holding his.

When he opened his eyes, infinitely grateful that the lights were down, the first thing he saw was Bucky, head resting beside his leg as he slept restlessly.

As much as he was hurting, he put in all the effort he could in order to squeeze his hand around Bucky’s. He was not surprised when his boyfriend shot up immediately, eyes red and hair a mess. “Tony…” His voice was rough, either from sleep or from worry, but the relief was obvious.

Aware of the fact that he would not be able to talk, not with how much his throat was hurting, Tony shot him a crooked smile.

It was enough.

RM Live in New York @ Dia Beacon

Whumptober: Talking Is Overrated

Leonardo didn’t know why he expected any of their missions to go well.

Really, that should be on him. As their leader, he was supposed to be the one planning, after all. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one making sure that these didn’t go wrong?

And yet, still, something always went wrong, and it was almost always him that got hurt for it. Karma, he supposed.

It just- It never went that wrong.

They split up, needing to go to different areas so that they could access different terminals. That was their first mistake. His first mistake.

Careful as always, he snuck through the shadows, melding in with the darkness and sliding along the walls, sticking closest to where they wouldn’t look. For a long moment, he watched the mix of Foot and Kraang below him who hovered by the terminal for a moment, looking around for intruders, then started to slink down after they left. In the short window of time he had, Leonardo began to work. Once the terminal was out of their sight, they wouldn’t think to check again, so he had a bit of time to work. While this was Donatello’s area of expertise, he had gone through examples of this routine with the second youngest enough times to know how he was supposed to do it without any help from the genius. His hand glided along the keyboard easily enough, and soon, the code was in and accepted.

Good.

Then, all he had to do was wait for the others to finish up and then they should have been good to go.

Things didn’t go as planned, of course. Because they never did.

All of a sudden the screen went black, the lights went out shortly after. When they did come back on, they were red, and the sirens wailed in the background. Shoot, they knew he was there. They would be back over at the terminal in moments, and when they got there, he would have to fight for his life.

So, like any smart person, Leonardo ran, sticking close to the edges once more to try and avoid getting spotted, finding areas where the shadows were deeper until he got back up to the rooftop. From there, he was home free.

Or, he thought he was. As the eldest neared the rendezvous, a throwing star whizzed behind his head, almost taking off the tails of his mask and making him turn to where it came from. An ambush? Really? He bit the inside of his cheek, exasperated that they waited so long to attack.

It was just the Foot, though. They were easy, he didn’t have to worry about them. Besides, he was good enough at fighting. After all, they had all been practicing and training since they could walk, they could take on a small group all on their own without struggle nowadays.

But suddenly, a chain wrapped around his wrist- (Pulling him back, slamming him up against the fencing and knocking the air from his lungs. Another bot ran at him, and-) and he was pulled backwards harshly, onto his shell. He had to raise up his other katana to make sure that he was safe while he was struggling to get up with the Foot-bot pulling on the chain and trying to drag him to keep him off balance.. In his moment while he was down, he realized that there was crimson blood on his blade, and oh god those were real people.

The Foot, this time, were not robots, were not the smart tech used to try and defeat them, they were actual people. And, if he had learned anything, people were cunning. They planned, they felt emotion, and, more importantly, they held grudges. Leonardo tugged, hard, and pulled the person down as he got up, because now? He couldn’t afford to stay down, especially considering the past between the Hamato clan and the Foot clan.

Even though it made him sick, Leonardo fought fiercely, tearing into skin with his blades like it was paper, letting the blood spray, to try and ward them off before he had to- Before he had To kill them. There was no way he could let them walk away from this alive. They were human, after all. He couldn’t trust humans, especially those who were considered enemies.

The person holding the chain around his wrist tugged again, but this time, Leonardo was braced for it, and stayed exactly where he was. Another chain wrapped around his other wrist and he was pulled down onto his knees, the two people grasping him pulling different directions and dang near tearing him in half, it felt.

Somebody approached slowly, no weapon, but holding a bunched up cloth, pushed into a kind of circle. They shoved it into his mouth despite his struggles, gagging him. The panic rose, and he had to try and choke it back down so that he could keep a level head and get free. Panic, in situations like these, never did anyone ever good. He could not afford to panic at a time like this.

Then- Then he could feel cold wire wrapping around the front of his neck, and the chill spread all across his body. The wire wrapped around his throat and tightened- Tightened, tightened, tightened until he couldn't breathe, made him sick, the world turning black.

His body fell forward as much as it could, and then there was a sharp pain in his throat- He bit down on the gag with a muffled scream as the wire began to dig in through skin and scales.

There was something warm flowing down his neck, and he prayed it wasn't blood but he knew, he knew. That was blood, and-

He couldn’t breathe. The oxygen deprivation was getting to his head, he needed to get out, needed to get out-

The Foot member in front of him crouched, and even with the mask he could swear he saw a mocking pity as they grabbed his face, tilting their head.

He needed to get out, because the wire dug deeper and the world was rapidly darkening and the blood drip, drip, dripped down his neck, flowing teasingly over his plastron and staining the roof red. He needed to get out.

So, he tried to. He tore his face away from the person in front of him and pulled hard with his arms, trying to get some release from the way he was held by the pair of humans with chains. But when he pulled , they pulled back harder, increasing the pressure.

He needed to get out, needed to-

The world darkened further, and he needed to get out, but his strength was rapidly dying.

Leo wanted to see his family, his friends, he wanted to live another day and he needed to get out-

Everything was tilting and going black and all of a sudden he realized he was falling, and the warmth on his neck had increased, he couldn't breathe but the wire wasn't there anymore. There was only warm liquid stuck in his lungs and he was choking on it. He was choking on it, he couldn't get away- (Because there was a claw grasping his ankle and water flowing in above him. He was dragged down, down, down, the light dying the further they went, and the water filling up his lungs, stealing the air he needed, and he couldn’t get back to the surface-)

Leo didn’t know why he expected any of their missions to go well, especially when some of them ended with a cold, lifeless corpse, and blood pooling on an empty roof.