No.29 - Tumblr Posts

Day 4, 6, 22, 29- I'm Fine (Don't Peek Behind the Curtain)

This one was a great time, I got to just play around with Bakugou's trauma for funsies hehe this one has Shinsou in it. and here's the thing about Shinsou (I'm not fully caught up, no spoilers please) I know very little about his quirk. So I took... a lot of liberties. So if it turns out that's not how Shinsou's quirk works, that's a problem for future me.

prompts- shock, made to watch, "watch out!", troubled past resurfacing- hurt Bakugou, a lovely little walk down memory lane, with memory lane being everything Bakugou's ever suffered through, emotionsTM

AO3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50331418

While Shinsou wasn’t particularly thrilled with being in a group with Midoriya, Todoroki, and Bakugou, it really seemed like tempting fate at this point, he was glad that he was finally starting to catch up a little bit to his new classmates. Everyone else had already gotten a ridiculous amount of real world experience and they weren’t even done with their first year, and while one day out on patrol with Aizawa wouldn’t do too much to make up for it, at least it was a start.

The class had been thrilled at the thought of going out with their teachers, patrolling the warehouse district near the docks. Aizawa had told them that this wasn’t about fighting villains, but about how to do proper patrols. The teachers were hoping nobody ran into any villains, but, knowing 1A, they could fight if they did since they all had their probationary licenses. Shinsou had been a special case, since he’d transferred into the class after the test was given. Aizawa had vouched for him, to give him a temporary and restricted license until he could take the test, convincing the committee that since class 1A was constantly running into villains, that he needed to be able to fight alongside his classmates in an emergency. The license he had wasn’t like everyone else’s, but it was enough to let him get the real world experience he’d been looking for. Though, since he had to be in Aizawa’s presence the entire time he was out in the field, that also meant he’d gotten assigned to the ‘problem child’ group since Aizawa was also personally keeping an eye on them.

Bakugou had protested loudly at being stuck with Midoriya, but Aizawa had silenced him with a few whispered words. Shinsou hadn’t heard him exactly but it was something along the lines of ‘I need you to keep Midoriya and Todoroki from doing something stupid.’ Shinsou hadn’t been with the class long, but it was an open secret that Midoriya was always willing to go too far to try and save people, and that Todoroki often seemed way too easily convinced to do something illegal. And while Bakugou was often at the crux of shit that went down around 1A, it was well-known it hadn’t been his choice to be involved in any of it, ironically, making him the more sensible one. So it made sense to redirect Bakugou’s anger to something that he actively enjoyed, telling other people what to do.

“Stop walking ahead of me!” Bakugou snapped for what seemed like the twelfth time in ten minutes, which was followed by the twelfth “sorry, Kacchan,” in ten minutes, which was then followed by the twelfth “Don’t call me that!” in ten minutes.

Shinsou didn’t think he’d ever met a bigger asshole in his life.

Even though he was paying attention to everything around them, as Aizawa instructed, internally he was trying to wrap his head around why the fuck Midoriya and Kaminari called him their friend. Midoriya kept insisting that Bakugou just needed time to warm up to him, that he was softer and kinder than he seemed, but honestly, Shinsou didn’t believe him. Midoriya saw the best in literally everyone, Bakugou included, even if it wasn’t always really there. Kaminari said that Bakugou was an acquired taste, that he took some getting used to, and Shinsou thought maybe the whole class was just noseblind to Bakugou’s dickishness, for lack of a better term. Bakugou had only ever been insulting, arrogant, cocky, and a temperamental hothead around Shinsou, and he did not understand what his friends saw in the blonde.

“Will you just fucking shut up?” Shinsou groaned, running a hand down his face.

“Shut up.” Bakugou responded bluntly, his voice lower than expected. He suddenly stopped in the alleyway they were in, and Shinsou rolled his eyes. Midoriya and Todoroki stopped as well, no doubt to stop him from blowing Shinsou up for daring to tell him to be quiet.

“No seriously, shut up.” Shinsou shot back. “Not everything is about you all the fucking time. You’re not that special, dude.”

“I said shut up.” Bakugou hissed, his voice even lower. That unsettled Shinsou for some reason, and he stopped as well.

“Sensei?” Bakugou asked quietly, pointing at someone Shinsou could barely see. “They supposed to be here?”

Aizawa came to Bakugou, to look at what he was pointing at. Shinsou could just barely make out three people standing around, talking with each other. It looked like a few people talking on their breaks, and Shinsou was ready to ignore it and yell at Bakugou for being overdramatic when the men shook hands, and one pulled a thick wad of bills out of his pocket.

“There’s supposed to be a ship coming in about now.” Midoriya said, looking at the manifest schedule they’d been given earlier.

“I fucking know that Deku,” what, had he memorized the schedule? He’d barely even looked at it! “But something’s off. I can sense it.”

The wad of bills was exchanged for a briefcase, and when it was opened, the man who paid pulled out a white brick. That looked like…

“Drug runners.” Aizawa said with a hard look. “I was hoping they wouldn’t be here, but it seems they’re trying to get around the patrol schedule.”

Shinsou realized he was now a full-fledged member of 1A now, it barely being three weeks since he’d transferred in before running into villains. This was his first outing with his license, and now he was going to have to use it. That must have been some kind of record.

“You know them, Ai- I mean Eraserhead?” Midoriya asked.

“Not them specifically, but I’ve caught my fair share of drug smugglers here.” Aizawa said. “Ports are a big target for smugglers, hiding contraband on ships is easier than you think.”

Aizawa radioed the other teachers, relaying their position and that they might need backup. They couldn’t see any other villains beyond the three in front of them, but they all knew that didn’t mean those were the only ones.

“Dynamight, don’t ignite the drugs unless absolutely necessary.” Aizawa said, and to Shinsou’s mild surprise, Bakugou just nodded. “Try to keep that briefcase as undamaged as possible, we need it for evidence.”

The men hadn’t seemed to notice them yet, just talking and laughing as if one of them wasn’t holding an entire briefcase of what Shinsou thought was cocaine. They crept along the walls of the warehouses surrounding them, Bakugou walking quieter than Shinsou thought possible for the blonde. Red light began to shine from Midoriya, and Shinsou felt the temperature drop a few degrees.

“Easy.” Aizawa said, waving his hand a little. “Mindfreak, get their attention. Get as many of them under your control as you can, get them to surrender. Only then do we go in, and I’m on point. Just arresting them is the goal, don’t fight unless you have to.”

Everyone nodded.

Aizawa nodded at him, and Shinsou took a deep breath. Getting more than one person under his control was hard, and keeping them under control was even harder, but he just had to keep them under control until they were arrested. He could do this.

Fiddling with his artificial vocal cords for a moment, disguising his voice into something older, something more adult, he called out, “Excuse me? Can you help me?”

All three men turned to him, shouting at him in surprise, and Shinsou pounced. He had to attack each one individually, blanketing their minds with his quirk. The first one fell easily, and the second one wasn’t far behind, but the third one, the one holding the briefcase, clearly had psychic defenses. There wasn’t a way for him to enter without being crushed, his mind sharp, prepared for intruders.

Splitting himself in two was already making his head throb, his connection with their minds weak and flaky, hanging on by a thread and getting weaker as he tried to get briefcase guy.

Dammit, he couldn’t hold this, he was losing his grip on the other two. His legs wobbled, his heart stuttered, but he shouted out a, “surrender!”

The two he had control over immediately got down on their knees, putting their hands behind their head. He heard Aizawa say, “go!” but he couldn’t move from his spot. His vision went a little blurry, but he saw Aizawa and Bakugou go after briefcase guy, who had some sort of emitter quirk, which surprised Shinsou, since he thought he would’ve had a mental type quirk due to his shields.

Midoriya shouted, “Go help them, I got this!” and Todoroki joined the fight after handing Midoriya his cuffs. Midoriya was quick and precise, and both of them were arrested without much issue. Shinsou slumped against the wall, panting a little as he retracted his mind. The two woke up, and shouted, but Midoriya was already taking them away, getting them out of the line of fire. Shinsou could barely hear a “please stay here so you don’t get hurt” over the sounds of the battle, and he couldn’t believe just how true that rumor was.

He turned back to the battle, and he realized briefcase guy was more than a simple drug smuggler. The bastard fought as if he’d been trained, catching Aizawa’s capture weapon in his hands and using it against him, throwing him towards the water. Todoroki shot out a block of ice, catching their teacher before he fell into the ocean.

Okay. He could end this. He could do this.

“Over here you bastard!” Shinsou shouted, getting the briefcase guy’s attention once more.

Shinsou attacked with everything he had, trying to blanket the guy’s mind as he had the others. Going up against one was way easier, but damn, this guy had thorough mental shields. People who were psinull, without any psychic training whatsoever, getting in their mind was like walking through a house without walls. But this guy, he didn’t just have walls, he had fortresses, reinforced with training and expertise. Shinsou didn’t give up, though, he just had to find this guy’s weak point.

“Watch out!”

So focused on the guy’s mind, Shinsou hadn’t seen the emitter blast headed straight for him, Midoriya’s voice his only warning.

Caught by surprise, Shinsou didn’t have time to get his body to jump out of the way. He felt something slam into him, but it wasn’t a blast of energy. It was a person, propelled by an explosion he felt at the edge of his body. Bakugou smashed into him at full speed, his momentum forcing Shinsou out of the way. Shinsou crashed to the ground, but he wasn’t flattened by two hundred pounds of muscle and temper.

Bakugou had tried to blast them both out of the way, but he hadn’t had the time to get both of them out of the way, Bakugou getting hit by the edge of the blast. He was thrown down the alleyway, landing in a heap.

“Bakugou!” Shinsou shouted, scrambling to his feet and running to his classmate. He could hear Todoroki’s ice move and then the emitter blasts went silent, so Todoroki must’ve caught the guy. Shinsou barely noticed as he ran to Bakugou’s side. “Bakugou, are you alright?”

The blonde was trembling a little, the excess energy radiating from his hands, his ribs, his face, but then dissolving into the air. His hands hovered over Bakugou, knowing Bakugou didn’t like to be touched, but wanting to help anyway. Bakugou groaned, and then began to push himself up on his hands. “I’m fi--” Bakugou started, but his voice cut off suddenly. Bakugou turned to him, with a confused frown on his face, surprise in his eyes, and Shinsou gasped.

Little characters were carving themselves into Bakugou’s cheeks, and bruises were sprouting across Bakugou’s neck.

The energy began to diminish from his face, and Shinsou realized the energy dispersions must be targets of the quirk. Bakugou fell back on his ass, still wearing that confused look, and Shinsou saw blood starting to stain the orange parts of Bakugou’s uniform. Shinsou got Bakugou’s gloves off, and little characters were writing themselves in Bakugou’s blood on his hands too.

Shinsou wrapped Bakugou’s arm around his shoulder and hauled them both to their feet. They hadn’t even been able to make it two steps before Shinsou heard a sickening crack!’ and Bakugou shouted, his right leg suddenly unable to hold weight. Shinsou could barely look at how badly it was broken before his stomach lurched at the sight. They went from walking together to Shinsou all but dragging Bakugou forward, and Shinsou could feel Bakugou’s arm start to tremble as they went. Bruises spread across his shoulders, down his arms, and Shinsou ran as fast as he could carrying an entire person.

“Sensei!” Shinsou shouted, getting everyone’s attention from briefcase guy to them.

Todoroki immediately rushed forward to grab Bakugou’s other arm, and together they dragged him to Aizawa. His mentor was a seasoned professional, able to keep calm when everyone else was panicking, but seeing a look of fear, even just hidden in his eyes, scared the fuck out of him.

Instead of talking to them, he turned back to the man encased in Todoroki’s ice. “What the hell is your quirk?”

Briefcase guy just sneered. “Isn’t that the brat from the news? The villain one or something? I wouldn’t have thought he’d be so affected from watching TV.”

“If you don’t answer my question, I’m going to throw you into the water and tell the cops you jumped.” Aizawa said harshly. Shinsou knew Aizawa would never do so, not just because it was illegal but because Aizawa wasn’t a murderer, but he was obviously trying to convince the man he was. He must be scared if he went straight to threats.

“Alright, alright!” Briefcase guy panicked. “My quirk makes internal pain external. Guilt, fear, regret, that kind of thing.”

“Release him now!”

“I-I can’t! It lasts an hour, there’s nothing I can do once it’s started!”

Shinsou’s blood ran cold. Bakugou would have to go through an hour of this? He could barely stand as it was! Instinctively, both he and Todoroki turned to look at Bakugou, and the characters inscribing themselves on Bakugou’s face were beginning to form words.

“Sensei, I did as you said-- Kacchan!” Midoriya then joined them, Shinsou wasn’t sure where he’d been but right now it didn’t matter.

As soon as Midoriya came into their sight, a burst of blood spewed from Bakugou’s mouth.

“Deku, go!” Aizawa said, recognizing something Shinsou didn’t. Somehow Bakugou getting worse around Midoriya didn’t make sense to him, but it made sense to his mentor. “He can’t be around you right now. Todoroki, you go with him. Find another teacher, call an ambulance.”

Aizawa switched spots with Todoroki, taking Bakugou’s arm. Another choked gasp of blood started running down Bakugou’s chin. Todoroki and Midoriya looked like they didn’t want to go, wanting to stay by their friend’s side, but after a brief moment, they both took off.

“This way. I want you with me.” Aizawa said, just reaching down to Bakugou’s knees to carry him away from the ice, heading to a spot Aizawa must have deemed acceptable.

“Why me?” Shinsou asked. “Why not send me away too?”

“Because I think your quirk can help.” Aizawa stated, kneeling down and setting Bakugou down. “And you’re the only one here who doesn’t know him. You don’t have history with him, you won’t make him worse.”

Shinsou nodded and his mind a tornado of thought. How could he help Bakugou right now?

“Okay, Bakugou, I need you to answer me.” Shinsou said, looking directly at Bakugou’s face. To his horror, the words were becoming legible through the blood. “Talk to me, say something.”

Bakugou opened his mouth again, his chin still dripping blood, but he managed a quiet, “yeah?”

With the opening, Shinsou went to Bakugou’s mind, and he was surprised to feel a jaggedness he hadn’t felt before. It almost reminded him of when he’d entered Midoriya’s mind at the Sports’ Festival. Midoriya hadn’t felt like anyone he’d ever put under his control, and Bakugou’s mind even sharper than that. He got a flash of Bakugou’s memories, the quirk obviously bringing them to the forefront of Bakugou’s mind, and he could see Aizawa’s disapproving stare, and he could feel an immense amount of guilt, a feeling of not hitting a standard someone had set for you.

Shinsou didn’t even have time to figure out what that meant when he felt Bakugou’s mind kick him out, and he fell backwards from the force.

“Sensei, you gotta leave.” Shinsou said, scrambling back to his feet.

Aizawa turned to him, a frown deeply inscribed into his face.

“There’s something there with you too.” Shinsou said. “I think he feels like he disappointed you or something, but I can’t be sure, it might be the quirk.”

Actually Shinsou was very sure, but he knew Bakugou wouldn’t want him broadcasting his inner feelings to the world. Aizawa pursed his lips, but sighed, and nodded. “Do what you can, as soon as medical gets here, I’ll send them over to you.”

Shinsou nodded, and with a sinking heart, he watched as their teacher headed away from them too. Turning back to Bakugou, he found crimson eyes glaring at him, but he could see the pain he was trying to hide. The bruises started to spread down from Bakugou’s neck to his collarbone.

“Look, I’ll tell them it was just the quirk la… ter.” Shinsou said before his mouth went dry.

Terror struck him again as more characters began etching themselves into his neck. Shinsou opened his mouth to try again, but the words on Bakugou’s face were finished. His heart stuttered for a moment as he read ‘pathetic’ on his left and ‘weak’ on his right. Internal pain external. Bakugou must have had these thoughts on his own, but now he couldn’t hide them, as they were literally carving themselves into his body. Shinsou looked to his hands, and found the words ‘cruel’ and ‘villain’ finishing their last strokes.

Bakugou thought of himself as a villain? That… that was impossible. Bakugou was always so confident in himself, he was constantly yelling at everyone that he was going to be the best hero in Japan, better than All Might himself. No, no, this had to be the quirk. No one with Bakugou’s superiority complex and ego thought of themselves like that. Briefcase guy’s psychic shields were making more sense now, putting thoughts into other people’s heads or amplifying ones that were already there required psychic talent, even if it was done by emitting energy.

Shinsou shook his head clear of those awful thoughts, and he tried again. “Bakugou, you can’t kick me out like that. I know having someone else in your head probably feels terrifying right now, but I think I can help you. I should at least be able to knock you out so you don’t have to suffer through this. Come on, Bakugou, answer me.”

The glare that was badly disguising the fear in Bakugou’s eyes intensified, but after a moment, he got a “fuck you” with more syllables than letters due to Bakugou’s stutters and gasps, and Shinsou slipped back into Bakugou’s mind. The jaggedness still took him by surprise, but he forced himself through it, trying to blanket Bakugou’s mind with his control. Bakugou’s mind kept lashing out at him, fear at the forefront of the assault, but Shinsou was better prepared this time. Bakugou was like Midoriya, he could fight Shinsou off, but Shinsou had gotten better at controlling others with just his will. He would help Bakugou dammit.

The second Bakugou’s entire mind was covered, weakly, thinly, but covered, it was a simple “sleep” and Bakugou’s eyes closed, his mind going dark as Shinsou withdrew himself. Shinsou sighed, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. But not even a full minute went by before he heard another nauseating ‘crack’ and Bakugou’s right arm snapped to the side, and Bakugou woke back up with a scream. The pain must have been so intense it woke him up. Which meant that Shinsou’s quirk knocking him out wouldn’t work, as he was only able to convince a mind to shut down for sleep, not be completely unconscious. Honestly at this point, Shinsou didn’t even know if that would even work. Dammit. Dammit!

Okay, think Shinsou, Bakugou needs you. He’s in excruciating agony and can’t be put to sleep. How else can he help? Think, dammit, think!

He couldn’t think. The now finished word on Bakugou’s neck, thankfully avoiding his aorta, stared right into Shinsou’s soul.

Monster.

Shinsou couldn’t do anything but stare in disbelief for a moment. Not even twenty minutes ago, Shinsou had been shouting at him, thinking he was nothing more than a nuisance, an asshole who he happened to unfortunately get stuck with. Bakugou was just an egotistical jerk, a self-important bastard who thought himself better than everyone. But now, the pain and fear Shinsou couldn’t deny was staring him right in the face. Bakugou actually thought of himself as a monster. Tears were streaming down his face before he even realized he was crying.

“Bakugou…” Shinsou breathed, heartbroken at the sight.

His only response was a choked, gurgling noise, but it was a response. Shinsou slipped back into Bakugou’s mind, finally starting to understand the jaggedness. Midoriya had been through a lot, he hadn’t told Shinsou everything, but he could still tell that Midoriya was haunted by it. It was obvious that something had happened since Midoriya was unusually attached to Bakugou, who had been nothing but a jerk to him, and while everyone in class speculated (and Todoroki created wild conspiracy theories) no one actually knew what had happened. But something had, something that scarred their minds into being jagged and reactive.

This time, Shinsou didn’t try to blanket Bakugou’s mind, instead trying to focus on helping Bakugou through the memories he was being attacked with, his (only) idea that if he could help soothe the memories, the injuries wouldn’t be as powerful. His internal pain was being reflected externally, and if he could help soothe the internal pain, hopefully the external pain wouldn’t be so strong. Shinsou had no idea what to expect, but he braced himself as best as he could.

Certain memories were connected to the words that were still bleeding down Bakugou’s face,  and Shinsou came to the first one, and the feeling of pathetic was so strong that Shinsou nearly lost his grip on it. He could see flashes of the memory, a moving sludge encasing his whole body, going down his throat, and struggling to breathe. The force of the memory was so strong, Shinsou could feel his own throat closing.

“I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die.”

That was Midoriya’s voice. It may not have been shouted when it happened, but the voice echoed so powerfully that Shinsou was thrown from the memory for a moment. He came back with a stronger grip this time, his mind racing on how he could ease this obviously debilitating pain? ‘It wasn’t your fault’ didn’t seem right, and ‘it wasn’t personal helping people is just who he is’ was definitely the wrong answer. Dammit, quick, Shinsou, his face is still bleeding.

“You weren’t pathetic.”  Telepathy itself was a small part of Shinsou’s quirk, as controlling people’s minds needed telepathy just to get into other people’s heads, but he rarely ever used it like this. Somehow though, he’d never been more confident speaking directly into someone’s mind. “It wasn’t pathetic of you to get caught. You did everything you could. You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. That doesn’t mean you were pathetic.”

Shinsou could feel the quirk trying to amplify Bakugou’s emotions, to try and kick him out again, but he pushed hard, keeping his mantra the same, that Bakugou hadn’t been pathetic to get attacked. He could feel the memory slow down, and start to slide away from the forefront of Bakugou’s mind. He couldn’t shove the memory away entirely, the word was already written into Bakugou’s face, but this was the best he could do. He could still use his own body rather than be essentially trapped in Bakugou’s mind, and looking out of his eyes showed that ‘pathetic’ had at least stopped bleeding, and was beginning to fade. His idea was working, thank fuck.

Once pathetic was taken care of as much as he could, Shinsou then moved steadily in Bakugou’s mind to ‘weak’. He knew what to brace himself for now, and weak was a much easier memory to grasp than pathetic. The flashes of weak were stronger, and Shinsou didn’t know if that meant that the quirk was trying to amplify it now that it had lost pathetic, or if Bakugou had been more affected by it, but that didn’t really change his game plan so he just took in the flashes with what strength he had.

The back of Shinsou’s neck burned, and seeing his friends’ horrified faces as Bakugou was dragged into darkness made his stomach lurch. The forest around was dark, but Midroiya and Todoroki were as bright as stars, and Bakugou had been unable to turn away, and not just because Dabi was holding him by his neck. Weakness flooded his mind, Bakugou not even all the way through the warp before he was already screaming at himself for being weak. Shinsou was now very much doubting that Bakugou actually had the superiority complex he’d thought he’d seen in Bakugou’s arrogance. Bakugou clearly used arrogance and cockiness as a cover to hide the fact that he thought of himself as pathetic and weak, that he was a hindrance to everyone around him.

The flashes were less focused this time, going from the forest to what was no doubt Kamino and then back again. Seeing Midoriya, Iida, and Kirishima in the air, and hating the hope that that brought him. Bakugou had wanted to rescue himself, but he couldn’t, and he felt lesser for it, but still he took Kirishima’s hand. And then being blasted with the horrible feeling of being trapped as Compress used his quirk and ensnared him in that tiny ball, the feeling of suffocation coming back tenfold.

Everyone knew that Bakugou getting kidnapped was the reason they were all forced into the dorm system, that he was the reason why the school was constantly in trouble and on thinner and thinner ice. He’d heard plenty of kids talking about Bakugou in the past, even before he transferred into the hero course, talking about how it was Bakugou’s fault for getting kidnapped, that he must have done something stupid to let it happen, that his cockiness wasn’t deserved as he hadn’t gotten himself free, and how everything now was his fault. Shinsou hadn’t paid much attention to it, he rarely paid attention to gossip, especially since whenever someone learned of his quirk, and his heroic intentions were put into question. (When he’d told his general studies classmates he wanted to transfer to the hero course, the rumor that he was a traitor started because his quirk could only lead to villainy, and he’d struggled to shut it down.) So he’d heard people talking about Bakugou, blaming him for the state of the school, but he hadn’t thought about it afterwards. He hadn’t even conceived the idea that Bakugou blamed himself more than any of those gossipers.

There was something else in Bakugou’s mind, he could just barely hear All Might’s voice, but this was deeper in the memory, and Shinsou could feel the same jaggedness but worse, and decided to leave that alone. Something in Bakugou’s mind was protecting that, and Shinsou didn’t want to fight him over his own memories.

“This wasn’t your fault.” This felt more right to say that, especially feeling the blame that Bakugou was putting on himself. “You aren’t weak for taking Kirishima’s hand. You were strong for letting them help you, for taking yourself out so the pros could go in without holding back. You kept yourself alive, that’s what matters. This wasn’t your fault, you didn’t choose any of this, you didn’t deserve any of that. You’re only fifteen, Bakugou, the League were grown adults, experienced villains deliberately going after someone who couldn’t have seen it coming. You weren’t weak, Bakugou, this wasn’t your fault.”

The quirk again tried to fight him, tried to shut him up, but Shinsou refused to go unheard. Bakugou would know this wasn’t his fault if it killed him. As with pathetic, weak started to slow down, growing distant in Bakugou’s mind. Shinsou didn’t know whether or not Bakugou believed him but he was at least hearing him, and that was all that mattered for now. Weak had stopped bleeding as well, and Shinsou wanted to move fast to the other, not exactly aware of how much time had passed, but trying to let whatever time left that Bakugou was still forced to deal with this be as easy as Shinsou could make it.

He did promise himself to pay more attention to what people were saying about Bakugou though, because while the emotions didn’t come from outside forces, they reinforced it in his mind, and Shinsou knew how awful that feeling felt, and he didn’t want Bakugou to feel it as well as deal with all of the other shit he was clearly going through.

As soon as weak was as far away as Shinsou could push it, he immediately moved onto the next one, ‘cruel’. But what Shinsou braced himself for wasn’t the emotion radiating off of the memory, and Shinsou nearly doubled over from the sheer magnitude of regret that he was inundated with. A quick press gave him flashes of conflicting feelings, the emotion that Bakugou had been feeling when the memory happened, and the regret he felt remembering it. He saw a classroom, and Midoriya cowering at Bakugou’s feet, a desk with scorch marks off to the side. Shinsou pulled away from that, not wanting to see his friend like that. Judging by their looks, this was middle school at the most, it didn’t look like 1A and he knew Aizawa wouldn’t have put up with that shit. Bakugou had been a bully in the past to Midoriya, and he’d loved it back then, but now all that was left was the bitter taste of regret. Bakugou actually did have a superiority complex, he could feel it in how he lorded his power over Midoriya, feeling like it was his right to do it since he felt he was better than Midoriya, though Shinsou wasn’t sure why. But somehow, he did also have an inferiority complex, he could feel it woven into the regret Bakugou had over these memories. How the fuck was that possible?

Okay, figure that out later, these memories were taunting Bakugou with his past cruelty, but Shinsou needed a way to at least distract him from it. Shinsou couldn’t stop the regret, nor would he even if he could, regrets were often what made a person change after hurting someone else, and he didn’t want Bakugou to lose what character development he had gotten since. This was Bakugou’s journey to go through, and Shinsou’s route to help him through this pain.

“You’ve grown since.” Shinsou couldn’t believe he was saying this, because he hadn’t thought Bakugou capable of said growth, but everything he’d ever known about the blonde had been completely warped and changed since this started, so he felt more confident in saying it. “People make mistakes, Bakugou. You’ve learned from them. Looking back on the past does nothing, and I’m sure Midoriya has forgiven you.”

Jaggedness smacked Shinsou in the face, and he felt his own nose start to drip blood. Okay, that was the wrong thing to say, he got it.

In checking his body for the effects, he saw that cruel had stopped bleeding, but it hadn’t begun to fade yet, so something he was saying was working. With the other memories, Shinsou could ease their strength, take it away from the quirk forcing Bakugou to think only of them, and right now that was his only goal. Bakugou’s feelings over his mistreatment of Midoriya were his own, but at the very least, Shinsou could set them back to simmer in the back of his mind until he was ready to deal with them, stopping the quirk from torturing him with them.

“Your past isn’t all of who you are, Bakugou. Sometimes redemption arcs are the best stories we can tell.”

Shinsou could tell that it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t nearly enough to actually help Bakugou through what he was feeling, but it was enough to get the memories out of the quirk. No wonder Bakugou had gotten so much worse just from looking at Midoriya.  Those feelings did dismiss his idea though that Midoriya trying to save Bakugou from that sludge had been the event that had made Bakugou so angry at Midoriya. It could still be what made Midoriya so attached, but Shinsou couldn’t be sure. He’d just ask when this was all over.

With cruel sliding back with the others, Shinsou pressed on, exhausted but desperate to keep his friend from the pain that was still overwhelming his senses. Shinsou could tell that his pushing the memories away was helping, able to sense that the pain wasn’t so intense anymore, but it was like going from one hundred percent to eighty. Shinsou couldn’t solve all of Bakugou’s pain, but he was going to keep trying to soothe what he could. Regardless of Bakugou’s assholery, in the past or in the present, he didn’t deserve this kind of pure agony.

Villain also didn’t have the same emotion that Shinsou would’ve thought, nor the same memories. He thought it might’ve been tied to Midoriya but what he found was somehow even worse. Chained to a chair with so many restraints that Shinsou couldn’t even count them all, and that was just what Bakugou could see and feel, surrounded by the same people who tormented his class, the same bastards who attacked the USJ, unleashed Nomus onto the world, who led to the fight that would bring about All Might’s downfall. Shinsou couldn’t even imagine being surrounded by so many villains, let alone be as calm as Bakugou had portrayed himself to be.

“People… rules… heroes… we’re all shackled by them.”

Shinsou didn’t have to have met Shigaraki to know that that was his voice, even before Bakugou’s mind recognized it fully. He was pitching to Bakugou, an opportunity to join the League of Villains, that he had the stuff that they were looking for… and the temperament.

There was no way to hide that Bakugou’s attitude had been the reason the League had gone after him, and that was the main reason why everyone else blamed him. ‘If he hadn’t been such an asshole on live TV, then we wouldn’t have to be the ones suffering the consequences’, was the overwhelming majority opinion he’d overheard. Even members in the press implied that in their questions, even with Aizawa defending Bakugou’s character at that press conference. He could distantly hear Aizawa’s voice on what he could just sense as a tv, and oh gods, Bakugou had seen that? While literally in the middle of a hell that couldn’t be described?

Oh gods. This is why Bakugou blamed himself. Shinsou couldn’t imagine already feeling weak for getting kidnapped, for being restrained to the point where he couldn’t move for the second time, and seeing grown ass adults tell everyone watching that he was going to join the league. And Bakugou had gone through all of that. Alone. With only his teacher to stand up for him in a room full of people who’d never met him yet seemed to hate him for no reason, surrounded by villains who thought the exact same thing. And no one had said anything nice once they’d come back to school, only adding to how shitty Bakugou felt about this happening in the first place. No one outside of 1A had felt bad for Bakugou for getting kidnapped, only blaming class 1A but mostly him for the changes in their lives. Saying the exact same things that the villains had over those horrible days.

No wonder Bakugou saw himself as a villain, as a monster. Everyone else did.

This time, Shinsou didn’t have words. He couldn’t think of anything to say, just repeating choppy utterances weren’t even real sentences, desperate for anything at all to say.

“You’re a hero, they were wrong, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, they’re wrong, they’re all wrong, you saved me, you save people, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, you’re a hero, you’re a hero.”

Villain didn’t fade like the other ones, but Shinsou could feel the memories slipping through his fingers. Something was happening, the quirk was doing something he hadn’t expected, and he chased after the memories he’d already taken care of. It was like something was drawing them back, a gravitational force he didn’t understand, drawing in the other memories and collecting them into what seemed like one mass.

In telepathy, sometimes when two people are connected for a long time, the stronger telepath could sometimes see creations being formed without them actually being there, sort of a way to rationalize what was going on with the signals the brain was getting. The stronger telepath’s mind could create a picture that only they could see that was deeply connected to the actual feelings and memories of the weaker telepath. Since Bakugou wasn’t telepathically inclined at all, he probably wouldn’t be able to remember this as a telepath might, but as Shinsou looked at what the quirk was turning the weaker memories into, he thought it was for the best that Bakugou wouldn’t be able to.

All four of the words he’d seen amalgamated into one, swirling black hole that turned into what Shinsou thought looked like a building with a single door, with MONSTER emblazoned on it in bright red, flickering neon. It almost looked like the door before a final boss fight in a video game, but Shinsou wasn’t deterred. Besides, this wasn’t real per say, this was just a psychic projection of the emotions the quirk was bringing out in Bakugou.

It was only after he opened the door that he heard a lock snap, and he could sense that the quirk which had its own psychic energy, and was trying to keep him out, was trying to create this into a singular pain that Bakugou couldn’t escape. However, Shinsou had moved as soon as the doorknob had created itself, and the quirk hadn’t been able to lock the door before he got in. Shinsou was going to discuss how this quirk tried to fight him with Aizawa, as he was ninety-nine percent sure that briefcase guy was still controlling the quirk psychically because otherwise he didn’t think the quirk would be fighting him so hard, psychic quirks needed direction and couldn’t generate it on their own.

At first, Shinsou couldn’t perceive anything, only to hear a sound that sounded suspiciously like a child crying. A light flickered on, and a tiny form was illuminated, on their knees, hunched over with their hands out. That was what had been crying. At first, Shinsou thought that this was a projection of Bakugou’s inner child, but when a small head looked up at him, he realized that it was Bakugou as he was, just much smaller than the teenager Shinsou knew. When he recognized Shinsou, he blushed fiercely, unable to look Shinsou in the eyes, somehow getting even smaller. Shinsou wasn’t good at kids, but he thought maybe Bakugou was the size of a five-year-old.

“Bakugou?”

“I didn’t mean to.” Gods, Bakguou sounded so small, Shinsou’s heart just broke all over again.

Shinsou went to his friend, and knelt in front of him, and gasped when he saw Bakugou’s hands were covered in blood.

“Bakugou, what happened? Why is there blood on your hands?”

The sobs just got stronger.

A television screen formed behind them, and from the memories Shinsou had seen, this was the same room he’d been held in by the League of Villains, just empty. Instead of All-for-One on the screen, flashes of memories began to play. Blood bursting from Best Jeanist’s abdomen, Midoriya staring at him with his big green eyes and he could hear Bakugou’s voice say “Why was I the one who ended All Might?”, then it flashed to being in the air, holding Kirishima’s hand, big drops of blood in the air as Mount Lady fell, and then after the fight, All Might in his smaller form, steam emanating from all over his body, his finger pointing straight out. And… somehow, Shinsou could tell that Bakugou felt like it wasn’t pointing at him.

Shinsou rarely acted without thinking. His relationship with other people required him to think first before any action, no matter how small. So many people were quick to jump to the thought that he was a villain that he had to think everything through, even if it was asking to borrow a pencil or asking for notes if he missed a day. But now he wasn’t thinking at all. He just moved.

Arms wrapped around the small form, bringing Bakugou close, holding him as tight as he could. Bakugou just kept sobbing, and Shinsou cupped the back of his head, tucking him into Shinsou’s shoulder. Bakugou was so small that Shinsou could wrap his entire body around with room to spare, crossing his legs and holding all of his friend with all of him.

Shinsou wasn’t sure how long he just held his friend before he felt a hand touch his shoulder, his body’s shoulder. Immediately, he pulled out of Bakugou’s mind, and when he came back to himself he saw Aizawa standing there. There were flashing red lights of an ambulance, where he could see people moving in the back, and they approached quickly. Shinsou stepped away as soon as they did, and he looked back at Bakugou for the first time since he slipped into his mind. The cuts had stopped bleeding, and weak had faded to the point where he couldn’t read it clearly anymore. The wounds were still horrific to look at, but Shinsou thought he’d gotten them down to a level that was more manageable. He thought he might ask Bakugou if he was okay, or at least in less pain than before, but Bakugou’s eyes were already closed, and his breathing was even. The medics must have sedated him, with something stronger than a mental suggestion. It actually seemed to keep him asleep this time, so Shinsou allowed himself to relax a little.

He checked his phone, and to his surprise it had only been a few minutes. He knew telepaths perceived time differently when they were inside someone’s head, but that seemed a bit extreme, even for him. At least Bakugou could sleep off the rest of the hour now.

“You alright?” Aizawa asked, placing his hand on Shinsou’s shoulder again. “Your nose was bleeding.”

Shinsou nodded, his throat tight, wiping away the blood. “I'm fine.”

Aizawa clapped him on the back, and then went to deal with the medics and everything else. Shinsou took a deep breath, and he walked over to where Midoriya and Todoroki were. His friends were talking, Midoriya practically vibrating with worry.

“Shinsou!” Ah, he’d been noticed. “Is everything alright? How’s Kacchan?”

“The medics are helping him now.” Shinsou said, skirting the question. “Just a matter of time now.”

“Are you alright, Shinsou?” Midoriya asked, his green eyes full of sincerity. He could feel his stomach constrict a little, the echoes of Bakugou’s feelings still fresh in his mind.

“I’ll be alright.” Shinsou said. “I’ve just… got a lot to think about.”

Whumptober day 29 - Numb

Today’s @whumptober2019​ fill involves the friendship between Tony and Rhodey when the latter comes to find his friend after his parents have died. It’s also available on Ao3.

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

When Jim found him, he was just… sitting. Staring.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he told his best friend, hesitantly sitting down next to him. Tony was usually very touchy and affectionate, like the younger brother he’d never had, but considering the situation, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“It’s… Thank you.” Even Tony’s voice sounded more distant than usual.

For a long while, the two of them just sat in silence. As much as Jim wanted to be there for him, he wasn’t quite sure how to. So he just stayed, hoping it would help at least a little.

Eventually, Tony spoke up, his voice even. “Is it normal to just… not really feel anything?” He breathed, briefly looking over to Jim before going back to staring out the window again, where a thin layer of snow was covering the landscape. “I mean, somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should be… feeling. Grieving. But it all just feels numb.”

Jim grimaced a little. The only experience with death he could remember, if vaguely, was when his grandfather had died, and that had been over ten years ago. And while he’d liked the man well enough, eleven was not an age where he’d entirely comprehended everything going on.

But he couldn’t even try to imagine losing either of his parents, let alone both of them at the same time. His mind retreated from the very thought as if burnt.

He guessed Tony’s mind might be doing something similar to that, no matter how strained his relationship with his father might have been. “I can’t say if it’s normal or not,” he confessed, “but I can’t say I blame you.”

Silence fell again and, hoping he was doing the right thing, Jim reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand. He’d worried that Tony might pull away, that it might be too much at the moment, but instead he intertwined his fingers with Jim’s and held on.

No doubt that it would all hit, and that Tony would get emotional. It might take a few hours, or a few days… maybe even a few weeks, or months, or even years. But Jim was determined to be there for his friend no matter how long it took, and no matter in what kind of way his grief would express itself.

There was no doubt in his mind Tony would do the exact same for him, had been no doubt that they would be there for one another ever since the day they’d met one another.

More than friends, they were family.

My second attempt to contribute to Whumptober

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe) Additional Tags: Self-Harm, Derealization, Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Anxiety Attacks, Really not sure if this is graphic but it's detailed, So be warned, Whump, Still not sure if this is technically whump but I hope so,  Series: Part 2 of The Nature of Dreams Summary:

Sometimes, Legend would think he was stuck in a dream again. Thankfully, he now had a method for verifying if he was in reality or not. But according to Hyrule, it's not a very "good" method.

Whumptober day 29: Troubled past resurfacing, "I only sink deeper the deeper I think"

I ended up doing some minor editing and some adding to my fic. I felt really rushed while writing this story, and I wasn’t completely satisfied with how it turned out. So I went back and hopefully made it better.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe) Additional Tags: Self-Harm, Derealization, Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Anxiety Attacks, Really not sure if this is graphic but it's detailed, So be warned, Whump, Still not sure if this is technically whump but I hope so Series: Part 2 of The Nature of Dreams Summary:

Sometimes, Legend would think he was stuck in a dream again. Thankfully, he now had a method for verifying if he was in reality or not. Who cares if this method isn't exactly "healthy"?

Whumptober day 29: Troubled past resurfacing, "I only sink deeper the deeper I think"

Whumptober: All Work and No Play

Leonardo was usually the one who got captured or hurt. Of course, Donatello only thought it logical, as much as it distressed him. Leonardo was the oldest, the leader, and now, their sensei. Taking him down would most likely destroy the rest of them as well. A simple, but efficient, way of taking what remained of the Hamato clan off the face of the planet.

Somehow, Donatello managed to overlook the fact that, being the person who knew the most about medical things and the smartest of the group, a bright red target would be painted onto his shell, too.

The first month in enemy hands was brutal and violent- Well, more violent than recently. He was tortured almost everyday, only given a week or two at some point to recover before they brought him back, shoving him underwater and pretty much trying to tear him to pieces. Eventually, he gave up, desperate for the pain that clouded his mind to stop. What they wanted was for him to build for them. No information on where they were hiding, not their weaknesses, nothing that he would have expected. They just wanted him to build them weapons.

At first, he had complied as best he could, working through the agony caused by injuries. Almost immediately after starting, he tried to be half hearted about his work. He didn’t work as well as he could, he went slower and pretended like he needed more than he actually did. Of course, those attempts to slow them down were quickly put to a stop. His head still felt scrambled from that chair, he could still feel the metal gag in his mouth and the restraints around his wrists as electricity coursed through his body-

It was bad. He didn’t like to remember it.

Knowing what they had done in the beginning, sometimes he would completely stop or go on strike. They knew he was afraid, though. They could tell, they always did. Stopping wasn’t a privilege he got. When he tried to just not work, they starved him until he started doing what they said again. “You work if you want to eat”, they had said.

So he did. He worked long days and even longer nights without sleep, constantly telling himself “they’ll come”. Every night as the lights went out so that he had to work in near blackness, he told himself again, “they’ll come”.

For a long time, they didn’t. Obviously, he didn’t blame it on them. He knew that they had to be looking everywhere for him, the same that they would do for any one member of their clan, but everyday that nobody came, his hope diminished just a little more.

Just a little more, every time they would hit him again or drown him.

Just a little more when he went yet another night without sleep.

He was locked to the desk, of course. They didn’t want him trying to escape when they weren’t supervised, but that posed some… Problems.

Such as when things blew up.

The fire was so close to his face, and he couldn’t breathe through the smoke. Heart beating a jackhammer, Donatello grabbed a wrench from the flames, crying out when the fire wrapped around his hand greedily, trying to tear away the flesh to eat. He tore his hand back out almost immediately and began beating the chain, growing more and more frantic by the second. The fire was still growing, still reaching out and trying to take him for its never ending appetite.

Donatello had broken himself out from the chains, and the guards came in almost immediately after, allowing him to reel backwards while they put the fire out.

Because he broke the chains, he was punished for it.

He sat at a scorched workstation, fidgeting and tinkering to make up for his lack of ideas that would most certainly get him injured, when he realized that somebody was behind him.

"You're still not dead?" They asked, sounding like they were mocking him.

“No Mx.” He couldn’t tell their gender and, honestly, didn’t want to risk offending them. He knew what that would do for him.

They scoffed, “Good, keep it that way.”

He was scared to death when they hovered behind him, clearly not leaving any time soon. Eventually, he started bouncing his leg to try and soothe himself, but stopped working in the process.

A hand connected with the back of his head and sent stars flying across his vision. He went back to work.

Shortly after, they finally left him alone, and let out a breath of relief.

They’ll find me, he told himself again.

%%%

Surprisingly, they had given him a break.

It was unusual, and sent his nerves into a frenzy, but he was in no way ungrateful for the rest period. He wasn’t quite sure when the last time he slept was, and with no coffee, he was barely functioning. So, he took the break as a chance for a nap, even if it meant waking up to pain for sleeping over his break time.

God, he was tired. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to be home where Leonardo would eventually mother hen him off to bed, or Raphael would drag him out of the lab by the edge of his shell, or even have Michelangelo come running in and messing with his experiments. Anything would be better.

With a groan, Donatello realized that he couldn’t sleep. Homesickness was getting the best of him, and the hunger gnawed on his stomach, keeping him from any real rest. So, he tried his hand at lockpicking. He certainly had the things for a makeshift lockpick, if he just tried hard enough he was sure that he could get out-

As he began, somebody appeared behind him again, and he briefly wondered if he was clocking out for long enough that they could get in without him noticing.

“Don't do that,” They warned with a low growl.

Donatello flinched. “Sorry Mx.”

“I know what you were doing,” They ventured further, voice rising a bit in an accusatory tone. He couldn’t deny it, it only meant that he would probably get sent back to the chair.

Instead, he let them hit him harder than before, and bit his tongue to keep the cry from escaping him.

He was so, so tired. He thought he might die from it.

Suddenly, there was something crashing behind him, and his adrenaline got going, screaming at him to go go go there’s a fight get up right now.

The genius obeyed the frantic call of his body, standing up and spinning around to face the source of the sound.

Or, at least, he tried to.

When he went to get up, he crumpled to the ground, dropping to his knees with the only thing holding him up being the chain that held him by his wrist. New pain blossomed there and, honestly, he couldn’t force himself to care.

The crashes stopped and somebody called his name. There were hands on him, warm and calloused, friendly. A few clangs followed the calls, and then the hold on his wrist was released. Instead of hitting the floor, he fell into waiting arms, holding him off the ground.

“Donnie? Donnie, wake up. Please, wake up.”

He knew that voice. That was a friendly voice. That was one of his brothers.

“Hey, come here- Please, keep your eyes open, you can’t close them now.”

Oh, yeah. He would’ve loved to, but he could barely do just that. Before, he had such a hard time sleeping. Now, he couldn’t stay awake. Sleep tugged at his mind and the longer he had his eyes closed, the more he slipped. Rest sounded really nice. Maybe he would…

“Donatello Modesto Hamato, open your eyes right now.”

Oh, that was his full name. Not just Donatello, or Hamato Donatello, or that switched around, but his full name, with the middle name he assigned himself. He had really liked that name, it came from the same era that his first name did. Not the point- That was his full name, which meant something important was happening.

Slowly, Donatello cracked his eyes open, squinting in the harsh light. He could see blue and brown and green, behind that was orange and brown and green. Those were good colors. He was almost certain that if he looked up, he would see the same color combinations, except with red. “Wha’s happenin’?” He mumbled instead of looking up, tempted to squeeze his eyes shut again.

“Get up,” The blue said urgently, “We need to go now.”

“Alright,” Donatello didn’t try to get up, even though he agreed to getting out of there.

Somebody hooked their arms under his and lifted him up, then let him lean against them, trying to go fast and forcing him to stumble along in an attempt to walk. He frowned. That wasn’t very nice. His legs were asleep and he was tired. Wasn’t it rude to wake somebody up like that?

“C’mon,” The same person who called him by his full name whispered in his ear, “We’re going home now.”

scented candle / troubled past resurfacing / what happened to me (I only sink deeper the deeper I think)

Ocean Breeze.

An innocuous name for a candle. A pairing of words designed to calm and soothe as much as the scent of the candle itself. It wasn't really very much like the ocean, though. Nothing about it screamed 'salty spray' the way the words did to Faye's mind.

Although... why did she have an idea in her mind of what an ocean breeze would smell like?

A peculiar combination of emotions stole over her. Fear, unreasonable and baffling. Anticipation, an anxious sort of excitement that almost made her hopeful.

Was her troubled past resurfacing at last? Would she finally glean some answers as to who she really was, where she had been before, what type of world she had come from? Maybe even one of the most desperate questions she had... what happened to me?!

She clenched her eyes shut as tight as possible and brought the candle to her nose to inhale deeply. There had to be something... some memory tied to this aroma. Or, to the breeze off the ocean? Water? WHAT WAS THE ANSWER? WHO WAS SHE?!

I only sink deeper, the deeper I think.

With a shriek of frustration she threw the candle as hard as she could, hearing it shatter as it hit a wall. Countless voices sprang up from all around as well. Concerned onlookers, bewildered but unhappy sales people, the deep voice of a no-tolerance-for-bullshit manager cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Faye dashed an arm across her eyes to get rid of any evidence of tears that may have been forming. Scowling at everyone in sight, she angrily strode away before anyone could think to restrain her for the damage she'd caused.

Fucking pointless. What did any of it matter anyway? Who cared about the past or answers? Life was full of uncertainty and the future was built on lies.

Stalking through the mall, she stumbled as she went by a burbling indoor fountain in the center of the food court. A quick glance at the ground didn't reveal any puddles or wetness that she could discern. Shaking her head to clear it, she continued on her way. The notion of retail therapy had quickly lost its appeal and all she wanted to do now was get back to the Bebop and drink herself into a stupor.

No need for past memories when your mind was too muddled to even remember the here and now.