No.5 - Tumblr Posts

(Whumptober Day Five) EVERY WHUMPEE NEEDS

TW: Swearing | Blood Lost

It's not descriptive + Very Short

“Well fucking shit.” He looks down to see a hole in their chest. Blood pools around their feet. He can feel light-headed.

“Damn, should’ve dodge that bro.”

🎃Whumptober Day 5: Betrayal + Reluctant Whumper (Goro Akechi x Reader)🎃

You shift in the uncomfortable metal chair as you rub your bruise wrists. Your body aches from all the beating from those detectives. You can hear footsteps and a family voice.

Goro Akechi.

You see the door open to reveal the guard and Goro Akechi. Quickly Akechi took the guard's gun and shots him in the chest, causing you to flinch at the sudden action. The guard died instantly. You look at Akechi as your hands tightly grip your knees.

Akechi looks at you while holding up the gun, "Have you finally figure it out?" He stares at you blankly, but you can see a bit of sadness in his eyes. He got closer to you and leans over the table. Akechi lifts your chin and softly kiss your lips. You tensed up. He holds your chin as he puts his tongue into your mouth.

"M-Mmph~..." You quietly moan. You were still tense, but you were starting to blush. Akechi continues to make out with you as he slowly moves the gun and points the barrel against your head. You start to shake even more

He pulls back from kissing you, leaving a string of saliva, and he stares straight at your eyes, "Forgive me..."

BANG

"I'm gonna build me an empire,

And it's lonely at the top.

But madness and greatness

Can both share a face

And nobody will ever convince me to stop!

It's my destiny;

I was born to play this game.

So fear me or love me,

It's all the same."

~

-Empire, Beth Crowley

Whumpter No. 5

She never wanted to be the one feared, but she would do it if it meant peace could come.

(Click for better quality)

Whumptober Prompt #5- Gunpoint

I don’t even know why I’m posting this.  One- it’s garbage.  Two- No one will even see it anyways because I’m going to be flagged within moments.  Well, here it is anyway.  I started this thing and I intend to see it through, whether or not people can see it.  (Though, tumblr, if you’re listening, I seriously want people to see it.  Please.)

As much as Lucifer liked police work, hunting down criminals and making sure they were punished, there were some aspects that he couldn’t stand.  Like going to revisit a crime scene with Dan because Chloe had to be in some meeting with the lieutenant and Lucifer wasn’t allowed in.  Chloe had all but ordered him to recomb the scene with Dan, as he’d previously been restless and annoyed that he wasn’t allowed into an official police meeting.

“Lucifer, you are not a cop.  You’re a civilian consultant.  This meeting is for cops.”

So Dan and Lucifer drove back to the back alley where young Mister James Moren, a college student who lived on the wrong side of town, was shot to death.  Lucifer and Chloe has thought it very cut and dry, Mr. Moren had quite the mouth on him but little money, and their prime suspect was his downstairs neighbor who often was seen annoyed with his antics and exaggerations.  His neighbor was in debt to several bookies and needed money desperately, and Mister Moren had been talking himself up lately.  He had found a new sugar daddy that had paid for a new watch and clothes.  Those things were missing from the scene.  They just needed proof that the neighbor had committed the crime.  So Chloe sent Lucifer and Dan back to the scene, hoping they might find some new evidence or perhaps explain some evidence already found.  She said said that she would meet them at the scene after she was done.  Neither man had been happy about it, but sucked it up for Chloe’s sake, and to help Mr. Moren’s killer get punished.

“You see anything with fresh eyes, man?”  Dan asked, looking at the drone scene photos he held in his hands.

“I have perfect vision, Detective Dou- Espinoza.” Lucifer cut himself off, not because he was lying, but he had been trying to be nicer to Dan at Chloe’s suggestion.  “If I were to see something, I would've seen it the first time around.”

“A lot of first time killers will revisit the scene, to try and make sure the evidence is gone, or plant evidence for a frame job.”  Dan said.  “It’s always good to get a second look.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “If they did it right the first time, they wouldn’t need to come back.”

“Don’t encourage the criminals, Lucifer.”  Dan murmured, sounding if Lucifer wasn’t hallucinating, almost fondly exasperated.

Lucifer and Dan were getting on better terms after the whole debacle with Azreal’s blade.  Lucifer has realized that there was more to Dan than he originally assumed, especially since Dan had able to resist Azrael’s blade, not many humans could do that, and Dan had felt like he’d gotten his anger out at Lucifer and had gotten a bit more used to his personality.  Granted, only Lucifer knew that Dan had tried to kill him with a blade so powerful it could kill God, but Dan didn’t need to know that.  They were almost friends.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”  Lucifer said, finding a tiny splatter of blood that hadn’t been there before.  As if someone cut themselves trying to get back to the crime scene.

Dan took a picture of it.

Within a moment, Lucifer heard the flash and then a grunt of pain.

“Hurt yourself, Daniel?”  Lucifer’s words died on his lips. The neighbor, a Benny Johnson, had a gun pressed to Dan’s neck.

Lucifer’s hackles rose, no one threatened his humans.

“Is that really necessary?”  Lucifer asked, his tone annoyed, trying to make eye contact with Johnson.

“You’re cops!”  Johnson shouted in Dan’s ear.  Dan winced, and Lucifer’s anger grew.  But he couldn’t flash his Devil eyes or face, as Dan would get it as well.  He kept trying to make eye contact but Johnson kept hiding one eye or both behind Dan, and he couldn’t hold it long enough to try to use his mojo.

“Yes, that’s clearly been established.”  Lucifer remarked.  “Why don’t you release my friend from your greasy grip and we’ll just be leaving?”

“No, no, no, not til you delete whatever you found.”  Johnson said wildly.  “I ain’t going to jail.”

“Well that’s just inevitable at this point.”  Lucifer muttered.

“Shut up, Lucifer.”  Dan growled.  “We can talk this out.”

“I ain’t talking.”  Johnson pushed the gun deeper into Dan’s neck.

“Come now, this isn’t what you want, is it?”  Lucifer said, trying to guide his voice into Johnson’s ear.  “Tell me what you really desire.”

“I… I want… I want you to delete whatever that was!”  Johnson said, his wild movements still protecting him from Lucifer’s full effect.

Lucifer rolled his eyes.  “You’ve said that.”

“Look man, I’m sure you don’t want to hurt me.”  Dan said.  “I’m sure you didn’t want to hurt James, either.”

“Bastard shoulda just told me where he got the damn money!.”  Johnson growled.  “He kept saying that he was gonna get rich soon, just needed investors.  Then one day out of the blue, he shows up with a fancy watch and new locks on his door and nice clothes.  Shoulda shared.  I needed that money more than he did.”

“What is it with you humans and your obsession with money?”  Lucifer groaned, annoyed.  “All you do is fight over it and kill over it and say it’s the most powerful thing on Earth.  I’m beginning to see why my Father sought to include coveting in his commandments, even if they really just are ways to keep you humans in line.”

“How would you know?”  Johnson asked. “You look rich.  You’ve probably never went without.  Born with a silver spoon in your mouth.”

“Please, I once went without eating for over six hundred years.”  Lucifer snapped.  “The food in Hell is not something you want to consume when you’re down there.”

“In Hell?”  Johnson stopped, looking at Lucifer in confusion.

Lucifer pounced.  “Holding a policeman hostage doesn’t seem like your life’s dream.  Tell me, what do you desire?”

Johnson’s grip went slack, even Dan relaxed a little, from looking at Lucifer.

“I… I’m… I’m tired.”  Johnson said, slowly, giving into Lucifer’s power.  “I’m tired, tired of running and wanting, waiting for the breaks that come to others but never to me.  I deserve nice things too!  Why should everyone else get what I want?”

Caught up in Lucifer’s power, in his own declaration, Johnson didn’t noticed Dan moving.  Lucifer, however, did.

As Dan elbowed Johnson, Lucifer grabbed the barrel of the gun and pulled it away from Dan’s neck.  Johnson fired as Dan got out of the way and pain lit up his hand, the bullet tearing through him.

“Detective Decker!”  Lucifer shouted, holding his now bleeding hand.  “So good of you to finally join the party.  We found ourselves a murderer!”

Chloe, who seemingly had just gotten out of her car, pointed her gun at Johnson and the man slowly dropped the gun on her orders.

“Benjamin Johnson, you’re under arrest for the murder of James Moren.”  Chloe immediately went into arrest mode and got Johnson dealt with.

“Man, I don’t know how you do what you do but today I am so glad you can.”  Dan said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “Shit, man, you’re bleeding.”

Lucifer grimaced, his hand practically on fire.  And he knew how that felt.

“I will be perfectly fine, Daniel.”  Lucifer dismissed.  “Just need a quick trip to Lux and it’ll heal.”

“We should call a paramedic.”  Dan said, pulling out his phone.

“Daniel, I assure I have everything I need at Lux.”  Lucifer said.  “Maze can stitch me up if need be, and I doubt it’ll even scar.”

Dan hesitated.  “I didn’t know Maze was certified in medical services.”

“Maze has been taking apart and putting people together in odd ways for practically her entire life.”  Lucifer said, trying to gloss over the whole torture bit.  He found humans didn’t understand and most certainly didn’t approve of torturing other human souls, and he knew Maze considered Dan to be one of her humans just as he did.  “She knows how to stitch something small like this up.”

“At least let me help.”  Dan said, pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket, the one he often used for picking up evidence, and wrapped it around Lucifer’s hand to try and stem the bleeding.  “That should at least keep you from bleeding out until you can get home.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”  Lucifer said, unused to this kindness.  “I shall replace this straight away.”

“Eh, it’s not a big deal.”  Dan shrugged, tying the ends in a small knot.  “It’s like a buck, I get them cheap because I buy them at Walmart.  They’re not exactly as classy as yours are.”

“Nevertheless, I shall replace yours.”  Lucifer insisted.  “I… appreciate your efforts.”

“Thanks, man.”  Dan smiled at him, a non-mocking genuine one.  It made Lucifer feel strange, like his heart had found someone he didn’t want to let go of.  Previously, he’d only felt this for Chloe, and a different version of it for Maze.  It seemed his heart wanted Dan to be apart of his flock, whether Dan was a douche or not.  He wasn’t sure what to do about that.

“I’ve got everything here, you two alright?”  Chloe asked.  “Lucifer, your hand.”

“I shall be fine, Detective.”  Lucifer assured her.  “Has Mr. Johnson confessed?”

“Yep.  Just a sad, angry, little man who got jealous and had a gun.”  Chloe sighed.  “Do you want to head home?  Your hand looks bad.”

“I would appreciate a ride to Lux, thank you Detective.”  Lucifer said.  The sooner someone drove him home, the sooner he could get away from Chloe’s influence and the sooner his hand would stop pulsating from pain.  “Until next time, Daniel.”

Dan gave his goodbyes as Chloe and Lucifer headed to her car.

The next week, when Dan came in for his shift, he found several handkerchiefs, ranging from dollar store cheap material to material he had to stop himself from rubbing on his face it was so soft.  There was no note, but he knew they were from Lucifer.  After all, Lucifer had always been a man of his word.

Author’s Note

Just so everyone knows, I won’t be posting tomorrow as I have already done six.  I will be reblogging it though.

PS Can Anyone Tell Me How To Make A Linebreak In This Thing

Oh!  Almost forgot. AO3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914988

Day 5, 9, 10, 17, 18, 30- Lost in the Darkness

aka Working very hard to keep Bakugou blindfolded the entire story

prompts- pinned down, stranded, you're a liar, touch aversion, blindfold, bridal carry- building collapse, broken bones, head injury, Bakugou being Bakugou, Kiri not taking his shit hehe

AO3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/50415793

Sometimes Katsuki entertains the idea that he might regret coming to U.A.

He didn’t, he would never accept anything less than the school that All Might attended, but circumstances like this gave him plenty of time to think. Especially since he couldn’t do literally anything else at the moment. Currently, he was blindfolded, with his hands tied behind his back, suspended in the air hanging from a rope that was connected to a harness, being forced to pretend to be a hostage. As much as the training scenarios were as close to real life as they could be, hanging from a singular rope tied to a ceiling was not something to be fucked around with, and Katsuki could be grateful at least that he wouldn’t get injured by his classmates’ idiocy in this shitty simulation. He wouldn’t put it past them to just cut him down without warning him so he fell flat on his face. They really were that stupid. As soon as they’d gotten him in the air, he’d wanted to get out of his restraints himself, perfectly capable of rescuing himself, but Aizawa had told him that if he didn’t play his ‘randomly’ assigned role (bullshit, Aizawa never left anything up to chance) as ‘regular citizen’, then Katsuki would lose an entire grade over it. Damn fucker was using his stellar academic record against him, and Katsuki had to admit, it was currently working. As impressed as he was that Aizawa had found something that got him to go along with this dumb exercise, Katsuki also never hated his teacher more than right now.

So, unfortunately, here he was. Hanging here, in complete silence, cut off from the world around him. God, this fucking sucked. Had to be one of the most humiliating things he’d done since getting to this school, and to make matters worse, he was so bored. The classmates who were pretending to be the villains who ‘captured’ him had left him ages ago, off fighting the heroes of the exercise, being serious fucking idiots as you should never leave a hostage alone because you don’t know what they’ll do or the heroes plan and then you lose your bargaining chip. … Sue him, he was bored, he could think both sides’ actions through, and he certainly wouldn’t have acted this dumb, and he’d win the battle against anyone assigned to be his enemy. That first fight with Deku was an outlier, and Katsuki refused to count it.

Noises caught his attention, and Katsuki hoped that this shit would be over soon. He just wanted to go to his room, make a pot of coffee, and forget today with some violent video games he could take his anger out on. Maybe if he was lucky, Kirishima would be down to play too. He always felt better after annihilating one of his friends. But then the noises shifted, and Katsuki carefully turned his head, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from without getting the rope to spin.

“Bakugou!” Dunce face. Wonderful. “Guys, I found him, come on!”

More noises followed her shout, footsteps, and he sensed the area around him fill up with people. He’d been right, as he always was, going off to the fight and leaving him alone was a dumb move by his classmates and they’d gotten their asses kicked. From what he could hear, since they still hadn’t taken off the damn blindfold, dunce face, pink cheeks, and shitty hair had come to his ‘rescue’. Joy. At least pink cheeks had some measure of sense when Deku wasn’t involved, and Kirishima would hopefully keep Kaminari from being too stupid for his own good. He supposed this was the best out of a shitty situation since he was stuck here anyways.

“So how do we get him down?” Kaminari asked. “If we just cut him down, he’ll fall.”

Katsuki bit his lip, trying to keep himself in check. The answer was so obvious Katsuki could’ve screamed.

“Ooh, Uraraka, if you float him, I can cut the rope.” Thank god, Katsuki thought that discovery was going to take them three more years as they chattered.

“On it, Kirishima!”

Five fingers came to his chest, and the horrible feeling of weightlessness infected his whole body. Katsuki had never liked pink cheeks quirk in the first place, and he hated it even more now. He hated not being in control of his own body. Katsuki bit his lip harder.

Katsuki swung a little as Kirishima sawed through the rope, and he felt it when the rope attached to his harness suddenly went limp. He floated around for a moment before he got too fed up with their idiocy.

“Let me down. Now.” Katsuki hissed, his voice as venomous as a snake.

He could tell he surprised pink cheeks in her gasp, even though they still hadn’t taken off the goddamn blindfold, but he seriously didn’t give a shit. This day was shitty enough, he didn’t need her to add to it more than necessary. He heard her speak her stupid words, she really didn’t need to say it every time, from what he could tell of her quirk, but he used the sound to prepare for the sudden fall he was about to experience.

The freefall he was expecting got interrupted by strong arms, Kirishima balancing him so he could stand on his own without falling over. Under the blindfold they still hadn’t taken off, his eye twitched. And he thought today couldn’t get any worse, but he supposed he’d underestimated just how fucking stupid these assholes were.

“What do we do now?” Kaminari said, doing fuck knows what.

“How about you untie me?” Katsuki growled, his desire to keep his grades perfect fighting with his desire to just fuck all this shit and take the fucking hit so he could be fucking done.

“I got you, bro!” Kirishima said, and Katsuki heard Kirishima’s quirk go off again. He felt a swish behind his back, and his arms were finally freed from those damn uncomfortable ropes.

“Fucking finally.” Katsuki muttered, rubbing at his wrists. “Took you idiots long enough.”

Katsuki’s hand went to the blindfold, ready to rip it off himself, when the whole building shook. He instinctively put his hands out to steady himself, and before anyone could speak, Katsuki felt the ground crack and split open, and they were all freefalling with a shout. Katsuki had a single moment to curse in his head, as apparently things could get worse, and he’d just jinxed himself. But before he could try anything that might mitigate the shit the building collapse had started, his head crashed into something hard and unyielding, sending bright sparks across his eyes before he fell into a darkness a blindfold couldn’t create. 

~~

Katsuki’s first thought as he slowly rose to consciousness was that his whole body hurt, and he didn’t know why. He could feel heavy weights pressing down on him, completely covering his right arm, left hip, and there was one pushing directly on his face. His face was sticky, his arm was sticky, and his hip was throbbing two beats faster than his heart. He groaned, trying to move to escape the weights but they kept him pinned down, his legs scraping on dust, sliding through the dirty ground like a waterslide.

“Hold on, I think I heard him.” He knew that voice. That was… that was…

Oh shit. As he heard his best friend, memories came rushing back to his mind. Putting on the harness in the unhappiest way, being lifted into the air, and Aizawa handing him the blindfold to put on before his teacher gently tied his hands behind his back. Chattering voices from his idiot classmates, who joined him only to leave him there a little while later. Other voices of different people, Kirishima cutting him down, cutting the ropes, and then the ground disappearing out from under them. The building must’ve collapsed, that’s what the weights were, debris from the cave in. And the blindfold was still on his fucking face.

Kirishima must’ve found him, because soon the weights were being lifted off of him, and he heard a soft, “fuck.” The weight on his face was lifted very slowly, gently, and fingers probed at Katsuki’s temple, and he twitched as Kirishima disturbed the dried sticky shit on his face and in his hair. He was pretty sure it was blood, but he couldn’t be sure, as who knows what kind of plumbing had been disturbed when they’d fallen. Be easier for him if it wasn’t blood, though.

“Kami, get over here, turn up the light. Bakugou’s hurt!” No shit, Kirishima. Why not say other obvious shit like they were in trouble or that they were trapped?

Kaminari must be using his quirk to have his electricity crackle around him, giving them what light they could get. Light began to penetrate his darkness, and he shut his eyes harder, the light stabbing needles into his brain. A pained gasp slipped out unconsciously, and his left arm tried to shield his eyes from the light, but Kirishima took his hand, and held it.

“Easy, bro, you took a lot of damage.” Kirishima murmured. If Kirishima kept saying super obvious things that didn’t need to be said, Katsuki was going to blow him up.

Katsuki ripped his hand out of Kirishima’s, and came to his face. Since none of these assholes would finally take off this goddamned blindfold, he was going to do it himself. But as he pushed the fabric upwards, strobe lights blinded him, his vision going white as he screamed. A hand pulled his away, the blindfold falling back into place. Firecrackers of light assaulted his mind, taking away his ability to process the world around him. Flashes of what he’d managed to see popped through his mind, Kirishima with minimal cuts and a few bruises, Kaminari’s jacket tied around Uraraka’s bloody shoulder as a tourniquet, and Kaminari was nothing but an essence of overly powerful, bright light.

“Bakugou, what’s wrong?”

All he could manage was a strained, “bright.”

Kirishima’s fingers pinched at the blindfold, putting himself in between Katsuki and Kaminari, and through the shining light setting his nerves on fire, he could see his best friend frown before putting the blindfold back. “Shit.”

“What is it, Kirishima?” Kaminari asked, sounding unsettled, like he had in the mall training. Two was enough for a pattern for Katsuki, he was going to rage at Aizawa for letting this happen to him again, and swear that he wasn’t doing anything like this again until the teachers fixed this shit so a third time never happened.

“Bakugou, I think you have a concussion or something.” Kirishima muttered, knowing to talk to him despite the fact that it had been Uraraka that had asked. Katsuki hated being talked about like he wasn’t there. “And your arm totally looks broken, dude.”

Even though Katsuki couldn’t see it, he knew Kirishima was biting the inside of his cheek. It was one of his nervous habits. But a head wound meant the stickiness on his face was blood, and that complicated shit. Adding a broken arm to the mix was a disadvantage he would struggle to get through, but Katsuki refused to let this stop him. The marathon this had been going to be had just turned into a triathlon. Fuck. Still, he could do a triathlon with his eyes closed.

Actually, he was going to have to. Katsuki could see the overpowering light still through the blindfold, but it was easier to deal with with the blindfold on. Goddammit, his day could not get any-- stop. Don’t jinx yourself again. He didn’t know how this could get worse, and he didn’t want to know. Today fucking sucked ass, he should leave it at that.

“You with us, bro?” Kirishima asked, and he realized he’d been getting talked to, but honestly he couldn’t care less.

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Just figuring out how to get us out of here.”

Since Kirishima had removed the debris, Katsuki was able to lean to his left side, using his good side to get himself up. He could practically hear Kirishima wanting to help him, but he also knew Katsuki wouldn’t accept it. His left leg was shaky, his hip screaming at him to stop, but pain was just a call he didn’t have to answer. Pain never stopped All Might, therefore it wouldn’t stop him.

But as soon as he got himself as upright as he could, a bout of dizziness hit him, and he lost his balance, crashing into Kirishima. His best friend fumbled a bit catching him, making a surprised noise, but got him standing after a moment.

“Okay, dude, I’m sorry, I know you hate this, but you can’t walk by yourself.” Kirishima said, regret lacing his words, infuriating him. Kirishima was the only one he could trust not to pity him, but he still hated needing his help. Kirishima had learned the language Katsuki spoke, to know when to ask for something because Katsuki needed it but wouldn’t say it, to brush everything off as not an issue because Katsuki didn’t want to talk about it, ever. This wasn’t his language and Katsuki growled at him, the warning sign that he was about to get his shit rocked.

But Kirishima never took his shit, so he just adjusted Katsuki so his left arm was slung around Kirishima’s shoulders. And he thought that being tied up was humiliating.

“Bakugou,” Kirishima said, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “You can’t take the blindfold off, Kami’s light is too strong for your concussion, and you can’t walk. Just this once, let me help you. Let me be your crutch.”

Oh damn him for using that shit against him. He let Deku be his crutch one time and they never let him live it down. Katsuki was going to find a reason to blow Deku up for this, whether it was a good reason or not. This was all his fault anyway.

Regardless of how he felt though, Kirishima was right. He couldn’t see, and being trapped under a bunch of debris was not something that he could get out of on his own if he was blind. He couldn’t even see what was in front of him, the light radiating off Kaminari too bright for him to see anything but blurs and blobs of where he assumed people and objects were.

It felt like swallowing broken glass, but he ground out a quiet, “fine.”

“Thanks, dude.” Kirishima whispered, wrapping his arm around Katsuki’s waist. He hobbled them over to the others, Katsuki struggling to walk in step with Kirishima since he couldn’t fucking see where the bastard was stepping. God, he just wanted today to end.

“Dude, Bakugou, you look like shit.” Kaminari exclaimed, crackling faintly.

Katsuki tried to shy away from the bright light without looking like he was doing that. “If anyone else says one more blatantly obvious thing, I’m gonna blow all three of you up.”

He heard Kaminari’s, “yeesh, sorry” but it was soon drowned out by pink cheeks.

“Hush, Bakugou. You can’t do that anyways, you’ll just make this worse, unless you want this to cave in more. Now, we need to take care of your arm. Okay, what can we use to make a sling?”

Lots of ideas were discussed, and shot down violently by Katsuki, but eventually he allowed Kirishima to take the harness off and use that, Katsuki using his good arm on Kirishima’s shoulder to keep himself upright. Katsuki refused to let any noise of pain out again, but internally he was screaming as Kirishima moved. Oh yeah, his arm was definitely broken, it felt like almost a Deku level of broken, and when Kirishima finally stopped and took his waist again, Katsuki was trying to minimize his heavy panting and shove down the tears in his eyes.

“Here, Kirishima, I can make Bakugou float so it’s not as hard for you to carry him.” Uraraka said, way too chipper for what she was saying.

Katsuki felt a flash of panicked anger ignite in his chest. Not being in control of his body when he was trapped and blind was a step too far, and he didn’t care what it meant for him to refuse it. He’d rather drag his own ass out of here on his own, completely blind, then have the last thing he had taken from him. Control over his body was something he refused external assistance for, and he would not let her steal that from him, he didn’t care how hurt he was.

Sensing her fingers as they began to brush his skin, Katsuki kicked out at her. “Don’t touch me!”

He must have connected with Kaminari accidentally, as he got a static shock from it, but the “ow!” Kaminari made made up for it a little.

“Bakugou! Don’t kick me!” Pink cheeks squealed, which just made his resolve stronger. He ignored Kaminari’s, “don’t kick me either!”

“Then don’t fucking touch me.”

“Come on, man.” Kirishima said in his ear. “We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not letting that bitch touch me.” Katsuki growled back.

Pink cheeks made an affronted shout, but Kirishima was quick to understand what Katsuki was actually saying, that her quirk was off limits.

“He doesn’t mean it, Uraraka,” uh, yes the fuck he did, “but I’ve got him. He’s not heavy to me.”

Somehow Katsuki got a sappy vibe from that comment and he promptly ignored it.

“If you say so, Kirishima.” Uraraka said, doing that stupid pouty face she made when she was trying to be serious. He didn’t have to see it, he could hear it just fine.

“Come on guys, let’s get out of here.” Kirishima said, and they started walking. “There’s a path, Bakugou, if there’s anything you can trip on, I’ll handle it.”

Kirishima kept to the back, not leaving Kaminari’s light but also trying to keep as much of it off Katsuki as he could. This is why Kirishima was his best friend, even though he hadn’t actually wanted a best friend when he came to this school. But Kirishima understood him, helped without helping, didn’t shove his weakness back in Katsuki’s face. When they got back, he supposed he could make too much gyūdon and give the other bits to Kirishima for this. He supposed it’s been a while since he had that, and he could just randomly have a craving for a meatier dish.

The more they walked, the more Katsuki couldn’t help leaning on Kirishima. Each step with his left foot sent another bolt of pure agony to his hip, and every step with his right jostled his arm, and Katsuki’s head was already swimming from so much movement that he could barely keep track of the world beyond the pain. With the blindfold keeping the torturous light away, he couldn’t see the worried looks his friends were shooting him, only being able to sense a tension rising in the air, unable to place where it was coming from. It was strangely quiet as they walked, which unsettled him. Kaminari usually was a motor mouth, Katsuki always had to yell at him to be quiet. But now, no one was talking, and that didn’t seem right.

Suddenly, the light stopped, and they all froze.

“Kaminari!” Pink cheeks shrieked, the sound sending another bolt from his ear to his brain, and then back. He couldn’t be worried about Kaminari for a minute, he was so wrapped up in agony.

He heard knees and hands hit the floor along with winded gasps. Kaminari must have been pushing the limits of his control, his quirk more suited for attacks rather than support, keeping the volts so close to him had been exhausting him. As worried as he wouldn’t admit he was for his idiot, he was more worried that this would make dunce face go into whey mode. Not only would they lose what little light they had, but Katsuki wouldn’t be the only one out of commission, and Katsuki didn’t think their little group could take much more.

“I’m okay.” Kaminari panted, and the light started up again, but it was duller. “I’ll be fine. Plus ultra, right?”

The light was so dull in comparison to what Kaminari had before, that he reached around Kirishima’s neck, strangling him a little but for a good reason, and he peeled back the blindfold for a moment. It was still too bright, driving icepicks into his brain, but he could make out his friends now. Uraraka had knelt down to Kaminari’s level, and Kaminari was trembling, but from what Katsuki wasn’t sure. To let Kirishima breathe, he let go.

“Take a breather, man, you’ve been going for like, forever.” Kirishima said, and again the light went out, as the sound of shifting echoed in the darkness.

Katsuki never liked darkness, not that he was afraid of it like a baby or anything, but he never liked being able to see what and who was around him. Especially since… well. He supposed both. Kamino had only added onto what had happened with the sludge villain. But being plunged into darkness now wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, and he was glad to hear Kaminari’s breath evening out.

Standing was becoming unbearable as they waited for Kaminari to be ready again. His left leg was trembling fiercely, and his right wasn’t doing much better. His arm was still against his chest, but just being upright was making him dizzy, the world spinning painfully, like being stabbed into a ceiling fan as it rotated. At this point, Katsuki was standing on pure willpower alone. He wouldn’t fall, he already had to lean on Kirishima, he wouldn’t embarrass himself further and fucking fall. He wasn’t Deku, clumsy as fuck and idiotic. He. wouldn’t. fall.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Kaminari said, though they could all hear the exhaustion still in his voice. But the relief Katsuki felt might’ve slipped through, as Kirishima adjusted his hold a little, taking on more of Katsuki’s weight.

The sound of electricity crackled in the air, the light reappearing. It wasn’t as bright as when Katsuki had first woken up, but it was better than Kaminari’s second attempt. Still too bright for him to take off the blindfold, but instead of thirty icepicks digging violently into his brain, now there were only twenty.

Katsuki realized he’d been wrong before, standing wasn’t agony, but continuing to walk now was excruciating, so much worse than standing. His steps shuffled a little, his mind unable to send the signal to lift them up all the way, and Kirishima had to take more of his weight. He was practically carrying Katsuki by his waist, Kirishima’s arm wrapped almost all the way around.

A rumbling sound in the distance.

“Did you hear that?”

“That sounded like--”

The rumbling got closer. Katsuki could just barely make out the sound of roof cracking under too much stress.

“Shit, run!”

Footsteps took off, but instead of his own following, Katsuki felt Kirishima shove him to the ground, cracking his head again on the hard ground, and he just barely felt Kirishima’s hardening activate before he passed out again.

With every breath he took, he felt his chest brush something stiff, and he could hear heavy breaths that weren’t his own.

“Shitty hair.” Katsuki moaned out, coming back to consciousness for the second time that day. Honestly he was just pissed off at this point, he hadn’t even jinxed them this time!

“Hey, Bakubro.” Kirishima said, and the awful sounds of rocks shifting and falling to the ground echoed too loudly in his ears. “Was a little worried I put you down too hard.”

“Fucking threw me.” Katsuki groaned, opening his eyes to darkness. His heart beat a little quicker. “Where’s dunce face? ‘S dark.”

“I’m not sure.” Kirishima sighed. “I knew I could only protect you with my quirk, so I told them to run. They did. Hopefully they outran the collapse.”

Katsuki did hope they outran the collapse. He was no doubt someone was coming after them, but it was probably the other idiots in their class. Aizawa hadn’t even set foot in the mall when it collapsed. And knowing his idiots, it would take them two days to find a sponge in a sink. With Kaminari and Uraraka trapped alongside them, it would be even harder to find them.

God, he just wanted to go to bed.

“Bakugou, wake up, hey don’t sleep.” Kirishima suddenly said, shaking him a little.

Katsuki let out a noise that meant that hurt and if Kirishima did it again, he’d regret it.

“Sorry, bro, but you can’t sleep.” Kirishima said. “I don’t know what’s going on with your head right now, but I don’t think it’s safe for you to sleep.”

Shit. He hadn’t been trying to fall asleep, he must have been passing out. That was a problem.

“What… what does this shit look like?”

“What shit?”

Katsuki’s good arm grabbed Kirishima’s face awkwardly, and rolled it around, trying to gesture to the space around them. He stopped when he heard the debris.

“Oh.” If rolling his eyes wasn’t painful, he would’ve. He settled for huffing. “I don’t know. I can’t see anything either. I can feel the debris on my back, but it keeps shifting around when I breathe. But don’t worry, I can keep this up for a while, you’re safe, bro, I got you.”

Right, Kaminari had been their only light source. He hadn’t really been worried about his safety, he’d wanted to be able to crawl out of here. But that wasn’t happening apparently. They were just stuck here until someone found them.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“Mm.”

“Do you ever think about death?”

“Hah?!” Kirishima’s voice was way too blasé for this subject. “The fuck kinda question is that?”

“I’m trying to keep you awake and that was the first thing I came up with!” Katsuki heard Kirishima’s blush in his explanation. If he wasn’t hardened, he’d have gotten a smack for that. Katsuki just kept telling himself that rolling his eyes would hurt, rolling his eyes would hurt, don’t do that.

“Think of something better!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

There was a beat of silence. Katsuki groaned. God his friends were stupid.

“Are you and Midoriya exes or something?”

And he thought the death one was bad. “Excuse the fuck me? Has he been saying that? I’m going to fucking murder him!”

“No, no he hasn’t!” Kirishima said, saving Deku’s life, for now. “He’s never said that, or implied that or anything. We all just… we just wonder why you hate him so much. Like, I know you hate pretty much everybody, but your hatred for him is intense, dude. So we all kinda have a sort of bet going on, trying to figure out why. Couple of people think it was because you two dated and then had a bad break-up, especially since he knows so much about you.”

Katsuki blinked. That was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d known Deku for over ten years. Holy fuck.

“Shut down this ‘bet’, shitty hair, you all can stop fucking guessing.” Katsuki snarled.

“Oh yeah?” Kirishima perked up. “You gonna tell me?”

“No.” Somehow Kirishima deflated without moving. “First off, you assholes can stay the fuck out of my business, it makes no fucking difference to you why I hate him.”

“Yeah but we like Midoriya.” Kirishima sighed. “And we like you. We thought maybe if we could figure out why you hate him, we could help fix it.”

Katsuki supposed it was well-intentioned, but the idea still made his skin crawl. His relationship with Deku was his own, and… he didn’t want to think about it. His head already hurt too much.

“You can’t fix it, shitty hair.” Katsuki sighed. “None of you can. It’s only between us. Personal. Though if you could get him to stop crying every other second, that might help.”

Kirishima laughed breathlessly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Does it… bother you, that I don’t like him?” Katsuki didn’t like how unsure his voice was, and he fully blamed it on the nondescript head wound.

“Bother, no, but it kinda makes me sad.” Kirishima said, shrugging and then freezing as more debris shifted. “I mean, you’re my best bro, and Midoriya’s a good bro, and it kinda sucks that we can’t like hang out together or do fun stuff. But if you don’t like him, I’m not going to force you to do stuff with him. You’re allowed to not like people. We’ll all just hang out separately.”

Katsuki couldn’t name the emotion in his chest, and he refused to try.

“You know, you could do better.” Katsuki said. “You’re one of the only idiots in our class who’s somewhat tolerable.”

“Aww, I love you too, Bakubro.” Kirishima chirped, and Katsuki’s eyes widened. “It’s not like that though, we’re just friends.”

“I didn’t fucking say that.”

“Maybe not in those words.” Kirishima said. “But I know you.”

“Not well enough apparently.” Katsuki muttered. “I didn’t fucking say that. I don’t say that shit to anyone, let alone you.”

“Aww, Bakubro!” Kirishima whined, and Katsuki knew he was wearing the stupid smile he was always wearing when he teased Katsuki. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“That was the intent, yes.”

Kirishima laughed, and the echo died in the walls of fallen debris around them.

“How’s your quirk?”

“I’ll be alright, Bakugou.” Kirishima said, and Katsuki could hear the strain Kirishima was trying to hide from him. “I’ve got you. I can keep this up a while longer.”

Katsuki didn’t doubt that, Kirishima had already risked his life for Katsuki once, it didn’t surprise him that he’d do it again and again. He was a good friend.

Silence followed for a moment.

“Bakugou, you still alive?” Kirishima asked.

“Mhm.” Bakugou murmured. “If I die, I’ll let you know.”

Kirishima huffed a strained laugh. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

The tiniest shines of light then filtered through the cracks of the debris. A spark of hope ignited in both of them. A muffled voice echoed through.

“Kaminari? Uraraka?” Kirishima shouted, and Bakugou whimpered. Damn, that hurt. He understood its necessity, but goddamn that hurt.

The voices got stronger, and so did the light. The debris was being shifted around, pink cheeks obviously using her quirk to move the debris safely. Thank fuck.

“Kirishima?” Kaminari’s voice rang through, and Bakugou just groaned quietly. That seemed to be answer enough, as he heard a, “I can hear them!”

Debris began to move quicker, and the light kept getting stronger, a pocket shining through. Katsuki didn’t have to see the head popping through to know that Kaminari was able to see them now.

“How buried am I?” Kirishima asked. “Can you see it?”

“Yeah I can see it, sheesh man, you’re under a lot of rock.” Kaminari said. “But Uraraka should be able to get you out, bro. Just give us a little time.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Without a watch but with a head wound, Bakugou couldn’t tell how it took them to move the debris, and the sounds sort of amalgamated into a noisy blur that he couldn’t quite distinguish. Eventually, he felt the chest he constantly brushed as he breathed disappear, and he could hear Kirishima shift around without the debris falling off of him. A hand came to his shoulder, but thankfully didn’t shake him. 

“You still alive, bro?” Kirishima whispered.

“I haven’t told you I’m dead yet so what do you think?”

Kirishima laughed quietly. “Come on, Kaminari unburied me. We can stand up now.”

Ah shit. This was going to be hard, but Bakugou couldn’t back down now. He hoped that what sort of rest he’d gotten laying down would allow him to be able to stand again.

Okay. He could do this. He’d stand if it killed him.

His left was already trembling as he tried to push himself up, his hip screaming at him to stop moving as he moved his body. Instead of even trying to lose his left leg, he put all his weight on his right, but using his left arm and right leg to stand wasn’t working, and he could feel Kirishima’s hands begin to touch his shoulders. Dammit, he didn’t need fucking help!

Putting any weight on his left leg suddenly became the stupidest decision he’d ever made, as it hadn’t even been three seconds before he was crying out in pain and falling back to the ground.

Several versions of his name rang out in almost perfect unison, hands touching all over, and he just groaned. Today had to be one of the shittiest days of his life. At this point, he’d rather just pass out so he didn’t have to deal with this anymore.

“Bakugou, are you alright?” Kirishima’s voice finally made a sentence instead of just an exclamation.

“Stop fucking touching me and I might be.” Katsuki hissed, and four of the hands retracted themselves. The other two belonged to Kirishima, but he couldn’t see where his friend was to smack him with his good arm.

“Please don’t hate me for this, Bakubro, but you’re too hurt.” Kirishima said, and one hand stayed under his shoulder and the other moved to his knees.

Shit, wait, no, he wasn’t ready-- Kirishima lifted him into the air, and his hip screamed through his voice. The sound he made didn’t even sound like him. The versions of his name were shouted at him again, pounding his head so hard he could barely process their words.

“Hip.” Katsuki panted, finally taking control back of his voice from his hip.

“Dude, what do you mean?” Kirishima asked. “What’s going on?”

“Left hip.” Katsuki gasped. “Been broken since I woke up.”

“Dude!” Kirishima shouted and Katsuki grimaced. “I-- sorry, bro, but why didn’t you say anything? We’ve been walking with you this whole time!”

“Could handle it.” Katsuki groaned.

“Bullshit, Bakugou.” Kirishima snapped, and he sounded angrier than Katsuki had ever heard before. “Look, dude, walking with a head wound and broken arm is one thing. Walking on a broken hip is another. Kaminari, Uraraka, you two keep going. I’m gonna stay here with Bakugou.”

“I said I can handle it.” Katsuki said, trying to push out of Kirishima’s arms. Kirishima just held him tighter.

“I don’t care what you say, Bakugou.” Kirishima snarled. He was beginning to sound like Katsuki.

“Kirishima, are you sure?” Uraraka asked. “If we go, you’ll be completely in the dark.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kirishima said. Bastard even had the audacity to ignore Katsuki’s “I’m already fine.” and continue on like he hadn’t said anything. “Seriously guys. You go ahead. I can protect him with my quirk if anything else happens. We need help, now, and you two are our best chance at getting it. We won’t go anywhere, so you’ll know where you left us. It’ll be okay.”

Katsuki could hear the worried looks his friends exchanged, but they said their goodbyes and footsteps started to fade.

Kirishima knelt to the ground, and placed him down flat on the ground. He heard a bit of shifting before Kirishima pulled Katsuki’s head into his lap. It was somewhat comfortable, the darkness keeping Kirishima from seeing Katsuki’s unhappy blush. A soft hand came to his hair, brushing softly through his spikes, and that helped his headache better than the lack of light.

“You’re such a liar sometimes, Katsuki.”

Kirishima’s voice was soft, but the emotion in it was just as strong. Caught off guard by the sudden use of his given name, Katsuki barely managed a confused, “No I’m not.”

“Yes the fuck you are.” Kirishima snapped. “Saying you can handle walking on a broken hip when you can’t see and you can’t even catch yourself if you fall because of your arm. No one can do that, not even you. I can’t believe you sometimes, hiding that from us. From me. Seriously, Katsuki, how could you be so stupid?”

“I wasn’t being stupid!” Katsuki growled.

“Walking on a broken hip is stupid.” Kirishima insisted. “You know better! If it were me, you wouldn’t let me walk on it. You would’ve made Uraraka use her quirk on me so I didn’t put weight on it. What’s wrong with you, Katsuki? Why the hell did you do that?”

Even though they were arguing, the soft hand in his hair didn’t change its rhythm.

The pout on Katsuki’s face also matched the blush spreading to his ears. He wasn’t sure about how he felt about Kirishima using his given name, and he didn’t think he could figure it out with the headache that was trying to resist the comfort from Kirishima’s fingers.

“All Might worked for years with a hole in his side.” Katsuki pouted. “I could make it for one fucking day. It’s just pain.”

“Yeah, but you’re not All Might.” Kirishima said, and Katsuki bristled. “You’re not! You’re gonna be the number one one day, I’m sure of it, but you’re not there yet. And walking on a broken hip is a good way to make sure you never get there. What if you damaged your hip permanently?”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Katsuki grumbled. “I know when to stop before it gets that bad.”

“No, you don’t.” Kirishima refuted. “If you knew when to stop, you would’ve told me about your broken hip right when you woke up. Come on, man, I’m supposed to be your best friend. Why didn’t you at least tell me?”

“Not like I can keep a secret here.” Katsuki muttered. “If I’d said anything, then those two extras would’ve overheard, and pink cheeks would’ve used her stupid quirk on me again.”

“She was trying to help you.” Kirishima sighed.

“I don’t need her fucking help.” Katsuki seethed. Clenching his jaw made stars appear over his eyes, so he forced himself to ungrit his teeth. “I don’t want her fucking touching me. I don’t want anyone fucking touching me.”

“I’m touching you.”

Katsuki pouted again. “It’s different.”

“Because I’m ‘tolerable’?” Kirishima asked, with just the hint of a smirk. Bastard.

“Somewhat tolerable.” Katsuki huffed. “Just because you’re not literally the worst doesn’t mean you’re actually tolerable.”

“Uh-huh.” Kirishima said, not believing him at all. Damn bastard. “I don’t know what it is that makes you like this, but come on, Katsuki. Keeping us out when it comes to shit like this is only gonna turn around and bite you in the ass. I mean, look at us now. You can’t move, you still can’t even see even if it wasn’t dark, and now I have to stay here with you so you don’t die or get crushed or something.”

“You don’t need to rub it in.” Katsuki snapped.

“I’m not.” Kirishima sighed. “You’re my best friend, Katsuki. I don’t want to see you hurt, and just be stuck watching as you purposefully make yourself worse to prove some sort of point. I don’t even know who you’re proving it to, none of us care that you can’t walk on a broken hip.”

“I care.” Katsuki said. “I’m not like those extras who whine and cry every time they get a tiny scratch. They’ll never even make it to the top twenty with that attitude.”

“And you think you’ll make it to the top twenty if you constantly ignore your body?” Kirishima snapped back. “You constantly yell at Midoriya because he’s always breaking his bones all the time, and yet you do something like this!”

“It’s different!” Katsuki repeated.

“Ugh, no it’s not!” Kirishima groused. “What are you trying to prove, Katsuki? That you have absolutely no regard for your own well-being?”

“That I’m strong enough on my own.” Katsuki hissed.

The hand that had been softly running through his hair disappeared, and he refused to miss it. It came to his cheek, a softer touch than Katsuki would’ve suspected for how strong Kirishima was, and how mad at him he was.

“What if someone wants to be with you?” Kirishima asked softly, his thumb brushing up and down his cheek. “What if someone wants to stand by your side, to be there as you shoot to the top, wants to help you get there by calling you out on your bullshit, wants to hold you when you have nightmares, wants to have your back, wants to help prop you up when you can’t see or stand?”

Katsuki blinked.

“What was that middle one?”

“Wants to help you get there by calling you out on your bullshit.” Kirishima said. That hadn’t been the middle one he’d been talking about, but he let it go. Maybe he’d just misheard. “And that? That was bullshit.”

Katsuki huffed. “Okay maybe… maybe it wasn’t my smartest decision.”

“No shit, sherlock.” Kirishima muttered. Katsuki ignored that.

“I didn’t figure it would be such a big deal. It’s just pain. Pain is a call I don’t have to answer. I’m not weak, pain isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Your pain is a big deal to me.” Kirishima said. “Just because you acknowledge you’re in pain doesn’t mean that you’re weak.”

“The pros get hurt all the time in the field.” Katsuki retorted. “If they can rise above and keep moving when they’re hurt, then I can too.”

“You know, when we went on the Shie Hassaikai raid,” Kirishima said slowly, obviously thinking about his every word, “I passed out after that fight with Rappa.”

“You told me about that.” Katsuki said, unsure of where this was going.

“Yeah I did.” Kirishima said. “That fight took everything out of me. I had more cuts and bruises than I could physically count. And you know what Fat Gum did?”

A beat.

“He took me out of the fight.” Kirishima answered himself. “He found a place where we could be as safe as possible, and he got me medical help. I didn’t rejoin the fight after that. Fat Gum didn’t either. He stayed with me, kept me safe.”

Katsuki didn’t say anything to that.

“So why is it that Fast Gum, the actual pro, takes pain into consideration when making decisions, making sure that the people he was with were protected, but you, the teenager, don’t?”

“You were unconscious, I wasn’t.” Katsuki deflected. “I keep telling you, it’s different.”

“I wasn’t unconscious the entire time.” Kirishima shot back. “I woke up before Overhaul destroyed the street. And Fat Gum still stayed with me. Helped me get to the ambulances, even went with me to the hospital. He didn’t go back into the fight, he just stayed with me until I was taken care of. And he’s a genuine pro.”

Katsuki refused to answer his unspoken question.

“I think you’re running out of reasons why it’s different, Katsuki.” Kirishima said.

“Fuck you.” Katsuki snarled. “And why the fuck are you all of a sudden using my given name? I didn’t say you could do that.”

“You’re deflecting again.” Kirishima called out. “Give me a reason, dammit. A real reason. Why is it so different?”

“Because it’s me!” Katsuki shouted back. “I have to do this.”

“Dammit, why?”

“Because I have to be good enough!” Katsuki shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

A choked noise of pain followed, and Katsuki lost track of reality as his world became nothing but unending agony, the pain so overwhelming that he couldn’t even be sure that he was breathing. It felt like it went on for three separate lifetimes, drowning him in a torment so excruciating he didn’t think he could ever describe it in words.

Shaky breaths were the first thing he became aware of when the pain finally began to subside. The fingers on his cheek were in his hair again, lightly dragging their nails across his scalp, and he clung to that feeling as his only salvation as he managed to get through the final assaults of the pain.

“Katsuki?” Kirishima’s voice was so quiet that Katsuki barely heard it.

Katsuki made the quietest noise he’d ever made in his life in response. He only just now realized he was crying, tears running rivers down his cheeks.

“You’re good enough, Katsuki.” Kirishima whispered. “You don’t have to kill yourself like this to prove you’re good enough. You’re good enough on your own, Katsuki.”

Katsuki couldn’t even think of a response, the pain had completely cut his voice off.

“It’s gonna be okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima kept going when he didn’t say anything. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re enough, you’re good enough. You’ll be okay. It’s alright. Yound soonna breathing, it’s okay, you’re gon it’s okay. Yound soon it’s alright. You’reat.”

The hell? Katsuki was completely losing track of what Kirishima was saying. The fifty icepicks in his brain were beating a drum beat that went two beats faster than his heart. When his mind tried to understand what Kirishima said, he just got indecipherable static in return. Darkness was slowly beginning to encroach around his mind, easing the pain by just trapping him in shadow.

“Omatsuki! Matsuki?” Katsuki couldn’t even feel Kirishima shaking him now, his mind so wrapped up in shadow. “Comake uke Kaki! Wake mase uple. Come Kaki!”

Kirishima was shaking him harder now, his voice insistent and desperate, but Katsuki couldn’t feel a bit of it. The shadow that stole him from consciousness to ease the pain had already put him completely under, the darkness of unconsciousness swallowing him whole.

Something was different. He couldn’t tell exactly what, but something was different.

Voices surrounded him, voices that hadn’t been the people he’d been stuck with. The only one out of the cacophony that he could properly pick out was Kirishima. Oh! That’s what was different! He wasn’t in Kirishima’s lap anymore, with no fingers running through his hair. That had felt really good, he was a little sad that Kirishima had stopped. It had really helped with the pain. That… he was no longer in. His hip was still throbbing, his arm still ached, but his head was kinda floaty, and that helped drown out everything else. What was going on? Katsuki tried to ask, but all that came out was a soft groan.

“Bakugou?” Kirishima must have heard him. “Hey, Bakugou, you back with us?”

He made a small, affirmative noise.

“There you are.” Kirishima chuckled breathlessly. “I was getting worried you’d sleep through the whole rescue.”

“Dum’ass.” Katsuki mumbled.

Katsuki could hear Kirishima’s relieved smile. The soft hand that was in his hair came to his cheek again. Unconsciously, he leaned into it.

“You really scared me, Katsuki.” Kirishima’s voice dropped, shaky and scared. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Hah?” Katsuki replied, and he tried to get his head on straight, get away from whatever was making him feel all floaty.

“Shh, it’s okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima said, his thumb running up and down Katsuki’s cheek again. “You’re gonna be alright now. Everything’s okay.”

“You?”

“I’m okay too, Katsuki.” Kirishima murmured, but he didn’t quite sound it. “I asked Recovery Girl, she said it was okay for you to sleep.”

Katsuki made an uncertain noise. “Don’t, sound, okay.”

“Yeah, well, when you think someone you love just died in your arms, you don’t sound okay for a little while.”

Katsuki couldn’t think for a moment, and it had nothing to do with his head being floaty. Loved? Kirishima loved him? Sure, they were best friends, Kirishima was the closest friend he’d ever had, but that didn’t mean anything. Katsuki had walked away from his friends from middle school without even thinking, he’d realized he didn’t care whether they were around him or not. They weren’t good for him, encouraging him to do shit he shouldn’t, and they were just lackeys who followed him because he was the biggest fish in their little pond. He’d figured that… he’d figured that all friends were like that. That that was why Kirishima had forced his way into Katsuki’s life, that that was why all of Kirishima’s friends had followed suit. He’d made it clear on day one that he was one of the most powerful students in this class, even if he hadn’t done it in the best of ways. The USJ incident had been a better judge of his power, and his character. He hadn’t been able to lose Kirishima after that, and as soon as Kirishima had deemed him acceptable, the rest of the Bakusquad followed suit. But he’d never thought that Kirishima had deemed him acceptable because he’d cared about Katsuki, just that Kirishima thought he could use Katsuki to get ahead, and the squad followed because he could keep them afloat academically. The invitations to movie nights, playing video games, hanging out outside of school, and now caring when he got hurt, he’d thought that was just pretenses. That they didn’t care whether he showed up or not, that if they found someone who could do what he did (who had a better attitude) they’d walk away from him without thought. Did all of the Bakusquad feel that way? When he could think properly, he had to give this a ridiculous amount of thought.

“Shh, just go to sleep, Katsuki.” Kirishima said, somehow sensing that Katsuki’s mind was going a million miles an hour. “We’ll talk later. Sleep.”

Even though it was Shinsou who could control minds, Katsuki’s mind still seemed to shut down when Kirishima told it too, only just now noticing that he was completely exhausted. The soft touch to his cheek continued, gently settling him into a comfortable sleep.

And goddammit, he was still wearing that goddamn blindfold.

Don't Forget to Water Your Bakugou

Day 4 Hypnosis, Day 5 Heat Stroke, Day 6 Not Realizing They're Injured, Day 12 Just A Little More, Day 25 Being Monitored, Alt #10 Shivering

Class 1-A goes on a field trip. It's a ridiculously hot and humid day, and unfortunately, Shinsou's group accidentally gets lost in the woods. Bakugou ends up getting heat stroke and Shinsou, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu take care of him the only way they can.

Todoroki always talked about how field trips for Class 1-A were cursed, and at this point, Shinsou was leaning to the conspiracy theorist being right about that. They’d traveled to Iriomote-Ishigaki National Park, an island at the end of the archipelago of Japan, a forest that was isolated and uninhabited, something that almost guaranteed they wouldn’t be attacked by villains. They’d gone to study local plant and animal life, a science project of sorts. They’d been split into five groups of four, making sure that if anything happened, they’d have backup. Shinsou at first thought it was a bit much, needing backup on an uninhabited island, but he was new to Class 1-A, and he didn’t want to question anything he didn’t have experience with. Admittedly, it did kinda seem that wherever Class 1-A went, trouble followed.

The day had been much hotter and more humid than originally anticipated, and boy did it show. Everyone was sweating, uncomfortable, and complaining about it. Kaminari was one of the loudest, which came as no surprise. Todoroki had graciously offered some of his ice, but when they’d arrived, they’d been split into their groups to explore separate parts of the island. That had elicited a groan from everyone at the thought of losing their portable air conditioner, but Aizawa-sensei had shut them up with a glare. Unfortunately for Shinsou, Todoroki hadn’t been in his randomly assigned group, but at least Bakugou had, and he could take that. Not only was Bakugou one of the best in the class, he was actually kinda becoming Shinsou’s friend.

Kaminari had assimilated Shinsou into his friend group regardless if Shinsou wanted friends or not, saying that “You look like you need a friend, and these guys are the best!” It hadn’t been an easy transition for him, as he’d never had many friends due to his quirk, no one really ever trusted him with themselves, but Kaminari just steamrolled what he knew and before he really knew it, Shinsou had become a part of the Bakusquad and there was no going back. But strangely enough, Bakugou had been the one who made the transition more tolerable, as apparently, he’d been given the same treatment by Kirishima.

“The more you tell them you don’t want friends, the more they weasel into your life.” Bakugou had said. “They at least get more tolerable with time.”

And he’d been right. The more time he spent with the Bakusquad, the more he enjoyed their company. There was still a part of him that was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to ask him something like using his quirk on a teacher so they wouldn’t have to take a test, or to use his voice synthesizer as a prank, but so far they hadn’t. They just seemed… genuinely interested in his friendship. Shinsou wasn’t quite sure what to make of that honestly. He’d never met such sincere people who were willing to trust him, despite knowing his quirk.

His favorite way to spend time though was when the rest of the squad was playing video games or complaining as they did their homework, was to just sit sort of next to Bakugou in silence. Oftentimes Bakugou would be reading three chapters ahead, but he never said anything when Shinsou would sit next to him on the couch to do his own thing. Occasionally, he’d glance over at what Shinsou was doing, correct him if he messed something up, but mostly they just sat together. It was a much needed calmness in the hecticness of their previously unwanted friend group. He didn’t know if Bakugou enjoyed it as much as he did, but Bakugou never refused him, so he took that to mean he liked it too.

“It’s so hot.” Kaminari whined, for what felt like the fifth time. “I hate humidity. It’s not fair that we have to be here when it’s so humid.”

“Shut up, Pikachu.” Bakugou snapped, wiping his sweat from his brow. “Not all of us are so weak that we have to complain about each and every little thing. We fucking know you hate it, stop fucking complaining. Won’t change anything about our situation. Fucking deal with it.”

Kaminari pouted, and the last member of their group, Yaoyorozu, offered to make him a cooling cloth to put around his neck.

“Don’t give him an out, Ponytail!” Bakugou snarled, glaring fiercely at her. “He needs to fucking toughen up, a little heat is nothing. What happens if you get caught near a fire? We’ve trained for worse, stop being such a baby!”

Kaminari pouted. “Don’t I get a say in this? She didn’t offer it to you.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” Bakugou growled. “You’d cheat on tests if you could get away with it, I’m not fucking letting you cheat in this shit.”

Kaminari groaned, pouting, but he didn’t take Yaoyorozu up on her offer. Shinsou watched Bakugou carefully, and he realized something as they walked. Bakugou wasn’t just being a dick about this, making Kaminari suffer alongside the rest of them. But Shinsou noticed in his words that it almost seemed like Bakugou was trying to help Kaminari train. He was right, a fire was an intense amount of heat where things like cooling clothes wouldn’t help, or wouldn’t be available in the first place. It seemed as if Bakugou was trying to toughen Kaminari up himself, which was an interesting thought. Apparently Bakugou wasn’t as detached from the squad as he made himself appear to be. Very interesting.

Together, all four of them explored their area of the forest, Bakugou and Yaoyorozu writing down their notes of the things they observed. Only one person was really instructed to write everything down, Kaminari immediately made pleading eyes with Yaoyorozu until she accepted with a smile, but Bakugou seemed to be writing his own notes anyways. Shinsou kept an eye on what he was writing down, wanting to make sure he didn’t miss anything, needing to study twice as hard to be half as good as everyone else since he transferred in so late. It was actually the journal that initially gave Shinsou the first hint that something was wrong. Bakugou prided himself on his… well, everything, but one of the things was his very crisp, legible handwriting. But as they walked, as the minutes turned into an hour, Bakugou’s handwriting seemed to be getting worse.

“You okay, dude?” Shinsou whispered as Kaminari found a frog, (and then immediately shrieked when it leapt his way).

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Bakugou snapped back, again wiping his brow.

“Just… thought your writing was getting a little messy.” Shinsou said, and when he said it aloud, he realized just how flimsy his evidence was. “You’re just usually so… neat.”

Bakugou just glared at him. “Keep your fucking nose out of my business.”

“I was just trying to help, okay?” Shinsou held up his hands. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you and I are actually kinda friends now, and I was trying to look out for you.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help.” Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Let alone some stray that Pikachu brought home.”

Shinsou’s heart hurt a little at that, surprised by Bakugou’s testiness. Sure, the guy was always cranky, but this seemed a little strong for even the explosive boy. Bakugou had never called him a stray before, and even though he probably didn’t mean it, it still hurt to hear.

“Fine, asshole.” Shinsou snapped back. “Forgive me for wanting to be a decent human being to you. I won’t do it again.”

Shinsou then stomped off before Bakugou could reply, and went over to a giggling Yaoyorozu and a frightened Kaminari standing behind her.

“Hey, ‘Toshi, does your quirk work on animals?” Kaminari asked, staring warily at the tiny little frog. “It won’t leave me alone.”

“It doesn’t, Denki, but I don’t think we need it.” Shinsou just chuckled, and scooped the frog up gently. He then softly tossed it back near the river, and it jumped out of his hands to return to its house. “There. Now you’re safe from the itty bitty frog.”

Kamiari glared at him with a pout on his lips. “‘Toshiiiii. Don’t be so mean. We’ve already got Kacchan for that.”

Shinsou snorted bitterly. “Yeah we do.”

As dumb as Kaminari was, he said with love, Kaminari was actually very perceptive about people’s emotions. At least, when it didn’t come to flirting. “You okay?”

“Bakugou’s just an asshole, it’s fine.” Shinsou muttered.

“Oh, yeah, he gets extra cranky when he’s uncomfortable.” Kaminari shrugged casually, as if it was common knowledge. “And heat like this makes him cranky.”

Shinsou looked back at Bakugou, and saw him wiping his forehead again, panting a little. He vaguely remembered Kirishima making sure Bakugou drank lots of water on hot days, saying that Bakugou’s sweat didn’t cool him down like a normal person’s. It wasn’t an excuse, and he wasn’t forgiven, but at least Shinsou understood a little more.

Even so, Shinsou avoided Bakugou as they continued to explore, but the blond was quiet, reserved even, which Shinsou found odd but at the moment he didn’t care. He was just glad that Bakugou wasn’t yelling or snapping at anyone anymore.

“Um, guys?” Kaminari voiced after a bit, uncertainty clear in his tone. “Um. Does anyone remember how we got here? Because I can’t find the path we’re supposed to be on.”

Bakugou then stomped over to them with a snarl and a glare. “Are you saying you got us lost, Pikachu?”

“I- um, uh…”

“You stupid idiot!”

Shinsou then stepped between them, holding up his hand. “Hey! You weren’t paying attention to where we were going either. It’s just as much our fault as it is his!”

Bakugou just snarled at him and stalked off.

“Oi! Kacchan, where are you going?”

“Retracing our steps, idiot!” Bakugou shouted back.

Shinsou met Kaminari and Yaoyorozu’s eyes and nodded, following after him. If anyone knew what to do, it would be Bakugou. Kirishima had told him that he and Bakugou often went on hikes, even went rock climbing together too. He’d know what to do when lost in the woods.

Bakugou knelt down, seemingly examining their tracks. “Ponytail, make me a compass.”

“Kacchan, don’t you have one of those real fancy ones?” Kaminari asked.

“Yes, but it’s in my climbing pack, which is currently still in the dorms.” Bakugou said. “We weren’t going climbing, didn’t think I’d need to bring it. I wasn’t expecting you fucks to get us lost. So, Ponytail, make me a compass.”

“Of course, Bakugou.” Yaoyorozu said, and after a moment, handed him a compass.

“If we keep going southwest, based on our previous direction, we should make it back to the path Dunce Face wasn’t supposed to get off of.”

Bakugou then stood up, and wobbled for a moment. That caught everyone’s attention.

“Whoa, Kacchan, are you okay?”

“Bakugou, are you alright? Do you need some water?”

“I’m fine! Back off!” Bakugou snarled at them.

Shinsou noticed there was a faint flush of red on Bakugou’s cheeks as he shouted at them. A sunburn maybe? That would explain the crankiness, but not that moment where he lost his balance. Unless the sunburn was giving him a headache maybe? Most people were much more irritable when in pain.

“Just fucking keep up, I’m not fucking keeping track of you shits.”

“Why can’t you just let people care about you, huh?” Shinsou asked before he could stop himself, even though he knew that his question would piss Bakugou off.

“I don’t need your fucking pity!” Bakugou shouted back at him, wiping his forehead again. If Shinsou wasn’t so distracted by Bakugou’s anger, he would’ve noticed that Bakugou’s skin was too dry for the hotness of the day.

“I’m not fucking giving you any!” Shinsou yelled, refusing to back down. Shinsou had observed enough interactions with the explosive blond, he knew that the best way to get through to him was to not back down from his anger. “Not everyone who fucking asks if you’re okay is fucking pitying you, you asshole!”

Yaoyorozu then stepped between them. “Boys, please! Yelling at each other isn’t going to get us back on the path.”

Bakugou just snarled at him again before stomping off.

They quickly followed, Shinsou switching between fury and worry as he looked at his friend. Bakugou’s breath was coming a little faster than usual as they walked, and his skin was flushed red. But at the same time, Bakugou seemed his normal, cranky, asshole self. Though, he also knew that Bakugou would never tell them he wasn’t feeling well. Damn bastard. At this point, Shinsou didn’t even know whether or not he even should be worried. He didn’t think Bakugou was a liar, and he seemed very convinced that he was fine.

Suddenly, Bakugou stopped, and his hand came to his forehead.

When he didn’t speak, Yaoyorozu did. “Um, Bakugou? Is everything alright?”

Bakugou didn’t answer her.

Too late, Shinsou realized Bakugou was tilting to the side, and he watched in horror as Bakugou’s legs seemed to give out. His newly trained hero instincts had him moving before he could even process what was happening, his arms immediately wrapping around Bakugou’s body. But even with the strength training he’d been doing, he couldn’t stop them both from crashing to the ground, Shinsou doing his best to clutch Bakugou’s head to his chest, doing his best to protect his friend.

“Bakugou!”  “Kacchan!”

Kaminari and Yaoyorozu rushed to their side, and Shinsou pulled himself up a little, still holding Bakugou close to his chest, adjusting so he was laying up against a nearby tree. Hands came to Bakugou’s shoulders, his waist, and together he and Yaoyorozu turned the unconscious blond over. Bakugou’s head lolled limply, and Shinsou’s heart began to pound in his chest.

“Fuck, he feels like he’s on fire.” Shinsou murmured, pressing his hand to Bakugou’s forehead. “And I think he stopped sweating.”

“His heart and breathing are also going too fast.” Yaoyorozu added, her face set in a serious expression. “I think he has heat stroke.”

Shinsou’s stomach twisted painfully with dread. Irritability and agitation were also a sign of heat stroke, and Shinsou had just chalked it up to Bakugou just being an asshole. Dammit, he knew something was wrong with Bakugou, and he let Bakugou’s attitude deter him from checking on his friend. Dammit.

“Heat stroke? Isn’t that the really serious one?” Kaminari asked, fear evident in his voice.

Yaoyorozu nodded grimly. “Yes. It means his body temperature is over 40 (104) degrees. We need to cool him down immediately.”

“The river.” Shinsou said, and Yaoyorozu and Kaminari nodded.

Shinsou stood up, and grabbed Bakugou’s right arm, as Kaminari grabbed his left. Together, they hauled Bakugou up, slinging his arms over their shoulders and grabbing Bakugou’s waist, running as quickly as they could to the river. Bakugou’s feet dragged limply as they ran, and Shinsou just tried to focus on getting to the river. Bakugou would be okay, they just had to cool him down. The river was close, they just had to get him there.

“Okay, so should we just toss him in or something?” Kaminari asked, clearly panicking a little. Shinsou didn’t blame him. He’d known 1A long enough to know that when something bad happened, they looked to Bakugou (and Midoriya and Todoroki) for the game plan, Kaminari and the Bakusquad especially. And he knew how Kaminari studied, which is to say not at all, so poor Kaminari must feel like he has absolutely no idea of what to do.

“No, we need to ease him in gently, otherwise we might put him into shock.” Yaoyorozu said. Then she shifted a little nervously. “And… we need to take his clothes off.”

Awkwardness hung heavy in the air for a moment. But then Shinsou just took a deep breath, and nodded. None of them wanted to do this, but it had to be done. “Alright. Yaomomo, you get his shirt off, and then Denki and I will get his pants.”

Shinsou watched Yaoyorozu’s nimble fingers undo the buttons on Bakugou’s white shirt, exposing more and more of his skin as she went. They wrangled Bakugou’s limp arms out of his shirt, and then he and Kaminari laid Bakugou down onto the ground. Shinsou’s hands shook a little as he unbuckled Bakugou’s belt, and then the buttons on his pants. Kaminari and Yaoyorozu lifted his waist so Shinsou could slide the fabric down Bakugou’s body, then they took off Bakugou’s shoes and socks, setting them aside so Shinsou could place the other clothes on them.

After taking a few moments to splash the river water onto Bakugou’s heated skin, all three of them carefully maneuvered Bakugou into the cool water. Slowly, they laid Bakugou down to where the water was coming up just below his shoulders. The blond made a soft sound as they did, but he didn’t seem to wake fully. Shinsou’s stomach twisted hard with dread again.

Yaoyorozu pulled a rag out of her chest. She dipped it into the water and wrung it out before placing it on Bakugou’s forehead. She then took a big, deep breath before her chest sparkled as she pulled a sunbrella out, which Kaminari set up to cast them into shadow. “Okay, that should be good for now. It’s not ideal, but this should keep him from overheating even further, and should hopefully bring his temperature down.”

Shinsou didn’t like how Yaoyorozu was saying ‘should’, but it was the best they had. A hand suddenly came to his shoulder, and when he faced it, Kaminari was looking at him with a sad smile.

“Don’t worry, ‘Toshi. He’ll be alright. He always is. He’s Bakugou. If he could survive like twelve villain attacks, then heat’s got nothing on him.”

Shinsou nodded softly, grateful for his friend’s optimism. “We need to get back to the teachers, they can take him back to the mainland and get him actual help.”

“I mean, that’s a good plan, ‘Toshi, but going back to the river made us even more lost.” Kaminari sighed. “Wait, Yaomomo, can you make, like, a GPS or something? Something that could find the teachers?”

“Well, I could make a GPS but that would only tell us where we are.” Yaoyorozu murmured. “I could make one if someone decides to go looking for the teachers, that would lead them back to us. But it wouldn’t make us any less lost.”

Kaminari deflated a little. Shinsou put his hand on Kaminari’s shoulder and squeezed.

“We’ll figure this out, Denks.” Shinsou tried for a smile. “We just need to put our heads together. We’re smart, we can think of something.”

A sudden noise caught all of their attention, and Bakugou’s crimson eyes fluttered open a little. Oh thank god. As much as Shinsou had studied hero coursework, being trapped on an island away from all medical help and other people with someone with heat stroke hadn’t exactly been covered. Shinsou was really relieved that Bakugou would be back to be able to guide them back to camp.

But when Shinsou’s eyes met Bakugou’s, his heart sank. Unfocused crimson was dull with haze, and Shinsou’s shoulders slumped. Bakugou’s mouth moved for a moment with no sound before he croaked out a quiet, “water.”

Everyone scrambled to grab their water bottles, and since Shinsou’s was the only one with a straw, it was quickly decided that that would be the one used, and Shinsou brought it to Bakugou’s lips. Yaoyorozu positioned herself behind Bakugou, lifting him gently so his head rested in her lap. Shinsou pressed the straw to Bakugou’s lips, and he took a sip.

“Come on, Bakugou, just a little more.” Shinsou softly coaxed, keeping his water bottle at Bakugou’s lips.

Bakugou made a hushed noise of negation. “Mm… mm. Feel sick.”

“The water will help, Bakugou, come on.” Shinsou said. When Bakugou refused again, his voice still slightly slurred, a terrible idea came into his head.

It seemed that Kaminari had the same idea as he said, “Um, Hitosh? Maybe you should use your quirk.”

Shinsou looked to Yaoyorozu, who he trusted with making this decision. He wouldn’t dare use his quirk without everyone agreeing.

“He really does need the water.” Yaoyorozu sighed. “Feeling sick is a symptom of heat stroke, and he needs the hydration to combat it.”

Shinsou’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded. He hated using his quirk like this, when the innocent person he was using it on wasn’t consenting, but it was for the greater good.

Bakugou, please, just drink a little more.” Shinsou pleaded with him one last time, wanting to save using his quirk as a last resort.

Again, Bakugou refused, turning his head away from the water bottle. It broke his heart, but when the blond murmured, “uh-uh,” Shinsou activated his quirk. He blanketed Bakugou’s mind with his quirk, calming Bakugou’s fierce willpower with a soft darkness. Bakugou’s mind was powerful, and if he was fully conscious Shinsou doubted he’d be able to get control of Bakugou. But he wasn’t fully conscious, he was suffering and dehydrated, so Shinsou easily got a hold of Bakugou’s mind.

“Drink five small sips of water.” Shinsou commanded, using careful language. He always had to be careful in the language he used on those he controlled, as vagueness just left them confused and disoriented, able to fight back.

As commanded, Bakugou drank five more sips of water, and Shinsou used his quirk to soften the edges of the illness Bakguou was feeling right now, able to feel his own stomach rolling as Bakgou’s did. But the power of telepathy behind his quirk also let Shinsou soothe neural impulses, and he could ease the nausea within Bakugou to keep him drinking without issue.

“Is that enough?” Shinsou whispered, not breaking eye contact with Bakugou. “Has he had enough?”

He could feel his friends’ discomfort as they watched him control Bakugou, even if it was necessary, and he hated it. He wanted it over with as quickly as possible, for all their sakes.

“M-may… maybe a little more?” Yaoyorozu responded after a moment. “I-I can’t tell if he’s hydrated enough.”

“Drink five more small sips of water.” Shinsou commanded, and Bakugou instantly complied.

Shinsou felt Bakugou’s mind wavering, and he knew Bakugou was close to passing out again, so he withdrew his mind from Bakugou’s. Still, it took a moment to meet his friends’ eyes again. He knew they wouldn’t blame him for doing that, but it didn’t make him feel any less lousy for needing to control Bakugou to get him to drink some damn water. He just hung his head for a minute, needing to gather his courage to look Kaminari and Yaoyorozu in the eye again.

“H-hey, he’s shivering.” Kaminari said, which caused Shinsou to look up at the electric blond. “Does that mean the water is too cold?”

“No I don’t think so.” Yaoyorozu shook her head, feeling Bakugou’s cheeks and neck with the back of her hand. “He’s cooled down a little though. He’s not as hot as before.”

“Think we can chance moving him?” Shinsou asked, with a pit of dread in his stomach that the river wouldn’t help their friend for too much longer.

“I’m not sure.” Yaoyorozu worried at her lip. “If we weren’t lost, I’d think we could, but we still have no idea how far our base camp is from here. We can’t take him and look for help for more than… I’d say a half an hour. It would just make him worse.”

“Then you guys stay here.” Kaminari said, suddenly standing. “I’m gonna go look for help.”

“Whoa, hey, Denki-”

“No, I got us lost, I need to get us unlost.” Kaminari said. “Kacchan needs a hospital where they can actually get him out of this humidity and actually cool him off and stuff. And Hitoshi, you need to be able to help Kacchan when he can’t do it himself and Yaomomo knows the most about heat stroke and can make anything he needs. I’m expendable, I need to go looking for someone who can help us get out of here.”

“You’re not expendable, Denki!” Shinsou argued, hating that what Kaminari was saying was making a little sense, but he refused to let his friend think so lowly of himself.

“Yes, Kaminari, Shinsou’s right. You’re not expendable. You’ve been incredibly helpful.”

“Well, I’m gonna go be more helpful.” Kaminari said resolutely, and Shinsou knew they wouldn’t be able to change his mind. Once any member of the Bakusquad set their minds to something, there was no talking them out of it. “Yaomomo, can I have that GPS?”

Shinsou and Yaoyorozu exchanged a glance, and he could see a resignation in her eyes that matched his own.

“Alright, but please be careful, Kaminari.” Yaoyorozu pleaded, and within moments, she handed him a fully functioning GPS system. “Walking alone in the woods seems to be inviting trouble.”

“I’ll be safe, Yaomomo.” Kaminari gave them a thumbs up, and unexpectedly, it did kinda make Shinsou feel better. “I’ll be real careful, I promise.”

Yaoyorozu then handed Kaminari a walkie talkie. “Take this too, so we can keep in contact.”

“Check in like every five minutes, dude.” Shinsou said, his worry clearly shining through. “And make sure to drink lots of water.”

“I will. Just stay here, guys, I’ll get help.” Kaminari said, giving them both a look before turning and taking off. Shinsou watched with a heavy heart until Kaminari was out of sight. He knew that the park was uninhabited, but there was always the risk of getting injured or heat exhaustion or spooking a venomous animal. Kaminari could break his ankle or get bitten by a snake or fall down a crevasse or…

“He’ll be alright.” Yaoyorozu then said, startling him from his thoughts. “If there’s anything that Class 1-A is, it’s good in a crisis.”

Shinsou huffed softly. “Yeah. Guess Fate decided that I’m supposed to see that for myself.”

“Hey-o, my dudes, I’m still alive.” The walkie talkie then chirped and they giggled a little, Kaminari’s words breaking the tension a little.

“Glad to hear it, man.” Shinsou said into their receiver.

Silence followed for a little while, but it wasn’t as awkward as Shinsou was used to. Most silences around him were awkward, people wanting too much from him or no one feeling comfortable around him, but for some reason, it was a calm silence, like how when he sat with Bakugou on the couch. If Bakugou hadn’t been so sick, it would’ve been almost nice.

As an amount of time that Shinsou wasn’t sure of passed, he and Yaoyorozu just kept tending to Bakugou. Re-soaking the cloth on his forehead with cool water, gently splashing his exposed skin, adjusting the sunbrella to keep the sun off of them. Bakugou regained consciousness a couple of times, and Shinsou was able to get him to drink a little bit more water, but he never stayed awake long enough for much else. Kaminari routinely checked in with them, telling them that he was fine, and venting a little about how all trees look alike. Shinsou just prayed that Kaminari wasn’t getting any more lost.

“I’m- I’m sorry guys, I feel like I’ve passed this tree like four times, I can’t- hey! Guys! Over here!” Kaminari shouted through the walkie talkie, and both Shinsou and Yaoyorozu perked up.

“What’s going on, Kaminari?” Yaoyorozu asked.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I finally found you guys, I’ve been searching for forever!” Kaminari said, not answering the question.

“Where the hell have you guys been, man?!” That was Kirishima, worry evident in his tone. Kaminari had found their class again! “We’ve been looking for you guys for over an hour!”

“Kacchan got heat stroke, we had to go to the river to cool him down, and we got lost.” Kaminari said desperately. “But- but don’t worry, Yaomomo made me a GPS thingy, it’ll lead us straight back to them!”

“Then let’s waste no time.” Shinsou was a little surprised to hear their teacher’s voice, but he supposed that when students were missing, Aizawa-sensei would never let his students search alone. “Lead us back to your group, Kaminari.”

“Yes, sir, Aizawa-sensei sir!”

“Thank goodness.” Yaoyorozu murmured, softly stroking Bakugou’s cheek almost absentmindedly. “I was beginning to get really worried.”

Shinsou nodded, his body untensing as relief flooded through him. “Yeah, me too.”

After a bit, Kaminari shouted through the walkie talkie. “Guys! Guys! The GPS thingy says we’ll be at your location in three minutes.”

“Understood, Kaminari, and thank you.” Yaoyorozu answered.

Aizawa must have taken the walkie talkie because it was his voice that echoed through next. “How’s Bakugou?” 

“Still unconscious, but he’s better than when he first passed out.” Yaoyorozu replied. “His shivering has calmed down a little, and we’ve been able to get him to drink some water when he does wake up.”

“Well done.”

Once everyone arrived, Shinsou thought it was like a sort of controlled chaos. Everyone else must have returned on time, as Aizawa had been walking with their whole class, probably to keep everyone together, and so many people immediately rushed in to help. Kirishima picked Bakugou up, Todoroki brushed a thin layer of ice over Bakugou’s skin, Sero grabbed all of Bakugou’s clothes, Midoriya and the girls immediately worried over both he and Yaoyorozu, checking over them as Aizawa checked over Bakugou. It was a lot of stimulation at once, and kinda overwhelming, but then Kaminari put a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder and squeezed gently, grounding him a little, and Shinsou managed a small smile.

As they headed back to the boat, with Bakugou in Kirishima’s arms, Shinsou finally felt a sense of tranquility come over him, safe in the knowledge that soon they’d be back in their air conditioned dormitory and Bakugou would be in an air conditioned hospital room. While they walked, Shinsou couldn’t help but find himself drawn to Bakugou’s slack face. It was strange, his blank face looked almost peaceful, serene. It was the gentlest expression he thought he’d ever seen on Bakugou. He wondered if the blond could tell that he was surrounded by friends and safety as they walked. He hoped so.

When Bakugou woke up later in Recovery Girl’s office, Shinsou would be there waiting for him.

5. Koyomi Araragi (Monogatari series)

Oh God, he looks so disproportionately O.o. But it was kinda funny to draw a half-naked man ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

She allows herself to envision a clean journey back. A miserable hike, nothing the Black Widow can’t handle, then debrief, and then collapsing on her couch and not leaving her apartment for two days. Recharge time. Every great spy needs it.

Sunburn was not something she had given any particular thought to.

Natasha’s certainly thinking about it now.

Whumptober Day 5: "You better pray I don't get up this time around"/pinned down

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Summary: Cat Noir faces Monarch alone one violent night.

Warning: Violence.

  Cat Noir couldn't stand Monarch. No matter what he wanted, putting everyone though so much pain and  torture was non-excuseable. Fighting the villain personally was a rare occurrence.

    The fight was harder than normal. Ladybug was nowhere to be seen. The sky was pitch black, the moon hidden behind the clouds. Even she knew that this fight would be too much for her.

    Monarch was desperate. He hadn't cared if he killed the heroes but today he went in knowing this was the day he would risk everything.

    It felt like his prayers had been answered when only one hero emerged to take hugs down.

    Adrien had had a bad feeling the entire day. As soon as he woke up, he knew something was going to happen. There was a pit in his stomach as he went through his classes and when he left school he chose his words carefully when he said goodbye.

    They met at the Eiffel Tower. Monarch was ready for a fight and Cat Noir knew it. Before he knew it he had been slammed into the legs of the tower. He stood up and grabbed his poll from where it rested.

    The villain ran at his, "where is your partner?"

    "Wouldn't you like to know!" He swung his poll. It was met with a sword. Cat Noir pushed the sword back and stepped forward, attempting to hit Monarch. He hit his back, pushing him under the tower.

    As time went on, both hero and villain grew tired. Cat Noir was slammed into the ground. He could feel his bones and muscles growing tired.

    Monarch grabbed Adrien and forced him into a nearby lamp post. The post fell to the ground, Cat Noir didn't. The villain held him harshly and kneed him in the stomach. He cried out on pain.

    Then he was back against the Eiffel Tower legs. The ground has become a place he had grown accustomed to. Monarch walked over as Cat Noir tried to stand. He stomped on his hand, breaking it in multiple places.

    Adrian pulled it back and stood as quickly as he could. As soon as he stood he was thrown back onto the ground. His vision was blurry. All he could taste was salt. The damage done to his body made him regret waking up that morning. He wondered where Ladybug was, hoping she would show up and save him.

    The hero spit blood out of his mouth. His lip was split in multiple places and his face had multiple cuts, both from the ground and from being hit repeatedly by Monarch.

    "This can all end if you would just give me your miraculous." Monarch walked closer to Cat Noir.

    "If you want my miraculous-" Adrian used his poll to stand. He stumbled and swayed as he stood. "You better pray I don't get up this time around." He stuttered his words.

    Adrien knew that he would die for this if he had to. His life for the safety of others seemed like a fair price to pay.

    Gabriel looked at the child in front of him. He stood, ready to die. And Monarch was ready to kill him. He had been in his way for too long.

    "Cataclysm" Adrien spoke carefully. He pushed one foot in front of the other.

    "Resistance." Cat Noir touched Monarch's chest. Cataclysm deactivated and he was still standing. He grabbed the boy's wrist and tossed him back. He grabbed the fallen lamp post and struck him in the ribs.

    The poll stayed on top of him. Cat Noir was pinned. He struggled and as he opened his mouth to activate his power, Monarch forced the poll down. He screamed as his age of his ribs broke under the pressure. "I guess my prayer was answered."

    A foot rested on Adrian's right hand. No matter what he couldn't get out from underneath Monarch. He cried in pain and frustration. Was this really it? Did he lose? The lap post continued to press against him, making his injuries worse. Even if he did leave with his miraculous, he'd have to give it up anyway. His injuries were too severe to not be treated.

    Adrian tied to remove his hand for under the enemy's foot. Nothing. Everything hurt. Monarch kneeled down and replaced his foot with his hand. He looked at the child maliciously. "Goodbye Cat Noir." Then the world went black.

Part two: here when posted

Peter thought that he and Ned would be best friends forever, but that all changed once Ned hit him in the face so hard, he broke his nose. Ned had betrayed him for some mysterious reason, and Peter was confused. Things get so much worse once the Green Goblin joins the party.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my plot!

Burned (Whumptober Day 5 - Sunburn)

Summary: Wild gets a sunburn after a day of fun and relaxation. Legend is left to take care of the remorseful and very red Champion. (Whumptober Prompt- Day 5: Sunburn)

Rating: G

Word Count: ~1200

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59552038

Excerpt:

“Don't you have clothing that's supposed to help with that?”

Wild winced, gingerly moving to get up. “Yeah, it's enchanted. But I really didn't think I'd need it today.”

He stood, making his way over to where he had dropped his things.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way. Couldn't reach that part.” he ground out.

Legend glanced at him, noting the way the man was eyeing his discarded tunic like it was about to turn into a fire chu. He crossed his arms. “You're as red as the lobster on Wind's shirt.”

Wild looked up, puzzled. “That lobster is white.”

“Yeah? Well, that's because it wore sunblock. That's the color you were before you went out there.”

Read more on Ao3!

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | “If my pain will stretch that far.” (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

OC Whump

Hi, here is my contribution no.5 for Whumptober !

A bit of context : Those two OC are siblings with a less than happy childhood. To put some perspective, the Ensorceleur was 16 when he broke his promise. Donovan was 9. Lucien, Donovan’s son, was in the care of his paternal grandfather for most of his childhood (the grandfather is doing much better with him than with his sons).

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 TW and enjoy !

The two brothers look equally surprised. They stare at each other in silence on the porch for long seconds.

Donovan is the first to catch himself.

-What are you doing here ? he growls, tense and aggressive. His posture has straightened and his grip on the doorknob is deadly.

-Ah. Um, stammers the Ensorceleur, and Donovan doesn't know him well enough to know how rare it is to catch him off guard. I've...come to drop some things off.

He raises the backpack he's holding at arm's length as proof. Donovan squints.

-These are Lucien's things, clarifies the mercenary. He left them at Silver and Lea's place and I came to bring them back...as I was passing by...

The mention of his son only creates more tension for Donovan, but he simply reaches for the backpack.

-I'll take them.

-Oh, yes, of course, says L’Ensorceleur. He makes no move to hand the bag to his brother.

-Just like that, what brings you here ?

-What's it to you ? snaps the other man instantly.

-Wow, calm down, I'm just curious !

L’Ensorceleur steps back, the bag dangling from his arm.

-Just give me the bag !

-Answer my question ! Come on, it's not like it's going to rip your throat out... !

Donovan closes the gap between them by stepping forward, and the other man immediately steps back to maintain the distance. The younger freezes, his features twisted with anger, then takes a deep breath and forces himself to regain some composure.

-I came to say hello, but they're downtown. I'm waiting for them.

The Ensorceleur’s face relaxes a little, a softer expression taking its place.

-I see. Did the old man leave you a spare key ?

-He's been hiding them in the same place for ten years. Now give me the bag and go.

-I need to use the bathroom.

-There's a public toilet...

-God, it'll take me 5 minutes, just let me in !

Donovan clenches his jaw and steps aside.

-You'd better hurry.

In his defense, it takes the Ensorceleur considerably less than 5 minutes. He comes back down quickly, and Donovan hates the nonchalant way the other man takes the opportunity to examine the decor and look at the remains of a disparate snack on the kitchen table. The room is small, tiled in yellow and orange to give it a warm feel. The large window lets in the fading afternoon light. The fridge is adorned with a handful of photos of a little then not so little boy. It's intimate and homey. The killer has no place here. Not that Donovan has one either.

-If you're done, you can go, hisses the translator.

The Ensorceleur hesitates. His brother's whole attitude is screaming at him to go, but...

-Actually, I was thinking maybe we should have a little chat. Why don't you...

-Talk ? repeats Donovan, his voice laced with sarcasm.

He pretends to gather the plates, to keep his hands busy and avoid meeting the other's gaze. There are words heavy with meaning on his tongue, but he refrains from adding anything.

-Yeah, says the Ensorceleur finally. About everything. I mean...I know you're mad at me, and I wanted...I wanted to talk about it.

Donovan refuses to answer, his chest constricted by a growing fury. He sweeps away the crumbs with the palm of his hand, giving himself a few seconds to try and gather his scattered thoughts.

-Don, please. I just want to talk to you.

The younger man remains focused on his task. The repetitive motion almost makes him forget the looming presence behind him. Donovan has never been able to do more than a few magic tricks, basic manipulations of the weak aura he possesses. Georges was always more powerful than he was.

-Don. Come on, Don. Come on. Please.

Smarter. Stronger.

-I'm sorry, Don.

More insolent, more selfish, more immature and inconsistent.

-You're sorry ? Sorry for what, exactly ? Donovan chokes, turning to face the monster in the house.

Georges-L'Ensorceleur takes a step back, apparently surprised by what he finds on Donovan's face.

-I don't care about what you want to tell me. There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choices. You took what you wanted and left everything else behind.

-Donovan...

-Shut up ! Barks his brother, eyes flashing with rage. Shut up !

The man takes a shaky breath. There's hesitation on the older man's face, as his brother’s emotions unleashs.

-You abandoned me, Donovan finally says. The words spill out between them, full of sharp edges.

The rage fades away as quickly as it appeared.

-It's been over 25 years. There's nothing left to say. I don't need apologies or explanations. Just stay as far away from me as possible. And, the translator quickly adds, I may not be able to protect Lucien from your lies, but I'll be there when you betray him the way you betrayed me. To bear the consequences of your actions for you.

The Ensorceleur turns pale and he straightens up :

-I would never hurt Lucien !

-You promised him the same way you promised never to leave me ?

-You think that's what I wanted ? I didn't know how to go back, Don ! I just didn't !

-But you found out a way, eventually. And you chose to never come back. You chose to leave in the first place.

The mercenary clenches his fists, struggling to maintain his composure as his brother turns away again.

-Get the hell out.

-You think this was easy for me ?  You think I didn't suffer while I was out there ?

Donovan pauses, stunned for a second. Stunned that the Ensorceleur, or Georges, or whatever name seemed most appropriate, would allow himself such a reflection.

-You think this was easy ? You think I wanted to leave you behind ? You think I wanted to leave you behind, in that fucking house with...with him ? continues the Ensorceleur. A violent anger surges through him, and he sweats in a way that's completely excessive for September.

-You think...

-You promised me just one thing ! shouts Donovan. One damn thing ! The only thing you were ever going to do for me ! Fuck you !

-Fuck you ! What, you think she never hit me ? You think I had it easier than you ?

-You've never been home enough to make it hard ! Always outside whenever you didn't like something, telling me you'd be home soon and pretending not to see my bruises, apologizing and doing it all over again the next day ! Even after she was dead ! Am I supposed to feel sorry for you and  pity you ?  

The dam breaks and the Ensorceleur lunges forward.

Donovan has no time to do anything but flinch. The Guardian grabs him by the collar and slams him against the wall, eliciting a muffled scream. The Ensorceleur shakes him, panting heavily inches from his face, closer to losing control than he'd been for months.

-Shut up ! Shut up !

Donovan remains silent, breathless and shoulders aching. And if this silence is due more to years of learning than to violent shock, no one can tell the difference. Or almost nobody.

The Ensorceleur's blind rage subsides a little, enough to look at his little brother's fear-twisted face, held in the hands of someone who was supposed to protect him and who had already broken the most precious promise between them. Ordinary terror, so similar to that of so many before him.

No. Not him. He can't...he can't...Donovan...

-You're just like her.

The Ensorceleur widened his eyes and hurriedly released Donovan. He takes a faltering step backwards, horrified by his own inability to control himself, the weight of his actions made even heavier by his younger brother savage gaze.

The latter straightens a little and pulls at his shirt collar with one hand. His neutral, composed face holds firm, but his trembling hands bear witness to his shock and fear.

-You think I don't know what you've been doing all these years ? All those people you killed like dogs ? he spits.

The Ensorceleur stares at him, his stomach turning. How informed was he ? Who had informed him ?

He almost missed his brother's final verdict.

-Whatever happened to you, you deserve it. You deserve every bit of it.

It's strange, this need for recognition you feel from your family. This need for love, forgiveness, understanding. It's been a long time since he and Donovan shared anything. Today, the only thing forcing them together is a child who should never have learned anything about his paternal family and about whom they know almost nothing. Not much. Hardly more than the little they had all those years ago.

The Ensorceleur feels as if his chest is being crushed.

His brother looks straight into his eyes. It's empty and dull, the anger and pain purged by the passage of time.

For days, he'd been trying to find the courage to talk to Donovan. The courage to reopen the old wound and drain the pus. He'd never thought he'd find anything but a scar. Testimony to a past suffering, erased and now almost painless.

- It's been over 25 years. There's nothing left to say. I don't need excuses or explanations. We don’t share anything anymore, if we’ve already did so. I just want you to stay as far away from my life as possible. I'm tired of always being the one to suffer for others. I'm tired of having to sympathize with others, of having to be understanding, of having to be grateful for my easy life. I don't have what it takes anymore.

The Ensorceleur manages to take a strangled breath. The air passing through his lungs is pungent and irritating. He forces himself to relax his arms, a reflex movement. A fighter needs to take it easy in preparation for combat. An assassin needs to keep his flexibility.

-I'm tired of having to be the forgiving one.

A monster must abandon the idea of forgiveness.

Two strangers face each other in silence.

Whumptober day 5 - Gunpoint

My somewhat more angsty fill for the fifth day of @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

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

It all went south far quicker than anyone saw coming.

One moment, they were dancing and chatting with various people of varying levels of interest. The next, someone had crashed through the door, pulled out a gun, and shot one of the speakers, yelling for silence.

"Get people out of here," Tony softly whispered to Pepper, who had been his dance partner. Subtly, he maneuvered himself so even if the guy started randomly shooting, he'd be hit before she was.

"Tony."

"Don't worry," he told her, knowing it would be completely useless. And from the look on her face, she knew he knew.

He couldn't just let this guy start hurting people, though. Especially since these people were civilians, and he'd never been great at standing by.

As Pepper carefully started maneuvering people towards the doors leading to the terrace outside, trying to make sure the shooter didn't notice, Tony moved himself in his general direction. Whoever he was, he was looking through around searchingly, obviously looking for someone.

"Where is Fujikawa!?" he called out, and the threatening tone of his voice made it clear this was the person he was here to find.

Before anyone else could say anything - since Tony was pretty sure Rumiko Fujikawa was one of the people Pepper was currently trying to usher out of the room as quickly as possible and her father had not been on the guest list for tonight - he broke through the crowd.

"Afraid Ms. Fujikawa couldn't make it tonight. Would you like to leave a message?" He kept his tone as easygoing as possible.

Predictably, the gun was immediately aimed at him. The look in the guy’s eyes worried Tony - if he had to guess, he’d say this guy felt like he had nothing to lose. And often, those people were the most dangerous.

“Where is she?” he hissed out.

Little by little, Tony got closer to the guy, blocking as much of the room from his sight as possible. “Like I said, she couldn’t make it tonight.”

“You’re lying,” he screamed, and he fired a shot at the ceiling before aiming his gun straight at Tony once more. “I know she’s here. Now where. Is. She!?”

“Not. Here.” The longer he could keep this guy focused on him, the more time the police or, hopefully, the rest of the Avengers had to get there. Mentally, Tony noted to himself that he should really get working on getting himself into a suit someway quicker than bringing the suitcase version, or at least a way to bring some part of the suit with him.

He saw the moment the guy made his decision - the way his eyes went flat and cold, rather than the manic look that had been in them. Still, there wasn’t anything he could do, not unless he wanted to risk everyone standing behind him. Despite the way he’d slowly been moving closer, he was nowhere near close enough to keep the guy from pulling the trigger, let alone getting the gun off him.

So he couldn’t say he was surprised when the guy fired at him, and he couldn’t help but brace himself for the impact. Not that it ever helped.

Steve's shield came flying past the exact moment Tony felt the bullet hit him.

Whumptober: I’ve Got Red In My Ledger

Leonardo spun forward, slicing his blades down on anything that came near him in a deadly dance. Behind him, he could hear Raphael doing almost the same, anything that dared attack violently killed. He was enjoying himself, too.

Donatello and Michelangelo were definitely doing just fine, too, used to these enemies. Leonardo was pleased, glad to see them finally independent in battle.

Above them, Karai provided support, suddenly taking down an enemy that was getting a bit too close with a throwing sword or kunai, lunging down and stabbing one in the head before returning to her previous position, keeping herself both helpful and available.

Their enemies, the Kraang, were cleared out quickly with an ethic like that, nothing but metallic corpses left around, still and unmoving.

"Was that it?" Raphael called, sounding vaguely disappointed.

"It should be," Donatello chirped back as he picked around one of the bodies.

"I hope it was," Leonardo looked his swords over. Darn, he really needed to get back into the care routine he had before the space thing that happened, however he was supposed to explain that. One of the blades was chipped.

Michelangelo engaged in a game of catch with Karai, using a head as a ball while the rest of them poked around for anything useful, shouting taunts to get her off guard.

A pillar moved.

Leonardo would have brushed it off as a trick of the light, but, being as paranoid as he was, he found himself moving towards it instead.

He could have sworn he saw it move, in the far corner of the room, even if it was just a slight shift to the right-

It moved again, the cracks between plates that seemed like an artistic trend in anything made by Kraang widening.

"Guys?" Leonardo called, the panic in his voice showing as he took a few very large steps back.

The pillar was definitely moving now, slowly expanding as plates moved to reveal bunched up limbs that grabbed at whatever solid support was near to move itself upward.

Oh.

Well. That sucked.

The creature that stood before him reminded him of that one robot samurai they had to fight that one time. (He never remembered the names of the things they had to fight, but he was fairly certain that one’s name was Chrome Dome or something like that).

Behind him, banter and play stopped, everyone bracing for… Whatever Michelangelo planned on naming it.

Then it lunged.

And God was it fast. It moved fast enough to force them to try and keep up, struggling more and more by the second as they had already been coming down from their previous battle. Their mistake. Weapons bounced off its metal plating unless you were specifically aiming for the gaps between its main body and its limbs. Even then, that was risky, close range, and not likely to work. After an especially rough blow to the plastron that he was sure broke his ribs, Leonardo was not too eager to try that again.

Still, they had to have put an emergency shut-down in there somewhere, just in case it went haywire. The Kraang were probably just as hesitant about fighting as they were, right?

Shifting to a more evasive fighting style, Leonardo began to keep an eye out for something they could use as a weak spot, anything that would help them take it down. Already, he was hurting, and he could see that the others were too, blood dripping from various injuries caused by an arsenal of weapons.

It always had a weak spot, there was no way that this one didn’t have one too.

There, on its shoulder, and of course it was somewhere that it could reach.

Leonardo considered, for a moment, that he was getting too old for this, even though he was only just getting into his 20s.

But Karai was in a good spot to hit it, it would really only take one hit, and it would all be over.

“There’s a shut-down on its right shoulder,” he pointed out, getting a couple glances from the others, “Try to grab it if you can!”

With that pointed out to the others, he glanced up to Karai, looking to her for assistance.

And she, noting that he needed her help, catching his glance, paused to look the battle over, then smirked and back out, taking their entry to get out.

Freaking he-

Leonardo ducked down and snaked backwards to avoid getting hit, and heard Raphael yell something after Karai that he didn’t catch. It probably wasn’t that important anyway. What was important though, was actually paying attention to the task at hand.

Gliding over to Michelangelo, Leonardo nudged him, signaling from his chains to the robot (had Michelangelo named it already? There hadn’t been a lot of commentary this time around). It seemed to click almost immediately, and Leonardo stepped back to avoid getting in the way as Michelangelo threw the weapon in a curve, then darted around to grab it and wrap it around the metallic soldier.

Going round and round until he had it secured, Michelangelo bounced back to Leonardo, struggling to hold it and silently requesting assistance. While the oldest and youngest grappled the chains, fighting to hold it still, a sai went flying over their heads and into the hand of Donatello, who promptly adjusted his grip on the weapon and went clambering up the enemy’s back, sai raised to-

It- It collapsed.

The chains slackened as it crumpled to the ground, unmoving, and Donatello hopped off to avoid falling. For a long moment, everyone was silent.

“Did- Did you get it?” Michelangelo asked tentatively.

“No-” Donatello almost shrieked, looking it over.

“So it just shut down on its own?” Raphael eyed the body suspiciously, as if it might get up and start moving at any second.

“I don’t know Raph, it just suddenly fell, I didn’t do anything to it!”

They all paused, still watching, still waiting, just in case it got back up. Leonardo tightened his grip on the chains and pulled back slightly to tighten them. That way, if it did try again, they would already have it down. He’s restrained large creatures before, it wasn’t like he couldn’t do it again.

Seconds turned to minutes without any sign of life, and slowly, they relaxed, gathering up weapons and turning to leave. It wasn’t up anymore, and they had finished up everything else they needed to do, so there really wasn’t much point in staying anymore. After all, they were injured, too, they needed to take care of those. Donatello could only work so fast in the middle of a fight, so any stitches he had to give while they were out of sight were hastily done.

On their way down to the sewers, Raphael rambled about the stunt Karai pulled, clearly angry at her. Leonardo silently lamented as he still didn’t trust their sister as he talked, bracing for raised voices and insults.

“Raph,” he began, trying to keep his voice soft, “calm down. You’re getting worked up over nothing.”

“I’m getting worked up over nothing ?!” Raphael whirled on his heel, snarling at Leo, “She left us in the middle of a fight, Leo! I’m not going to calm down! You brought her here, this is  your fault!”

“It was probably a misunderstanding, Raph. She’s been on our side for a long time now. Please just lower your voice, at least.”

Raphael was still wound up from the battle, Leonardo could see it in his face and in his posture. Tense, squared up, jumpy. His adrenaline was still going, and it probably wasn’t the best idea to agitate him further.

And he was staring, he was silent. Raphael wasn’t usually silent when he was angry, what was going on-?

Leonardo reeled back when Raphael lashed out at him, but not fast enough. There was a sharp crack, and he realized that there was blood dripping from his beak long before the pain actually registered. There was blood on the hothead’s knuckles, too, but he looked like something had suddenly clicked and he was definitely regretting what he did.

Leonardo, however, could not find the energy in himself to really care.

Raphael almost immediately began feverishly apologizing while Donatello tried to peer past Leonardo’s hand at his beak, scolding Raphael for striking out like that. Michelangelo yelled something along the lines of “that was uncalled for”.

“Leo, move your hand,” Donatello ordered, and Leonardo obeyed, pulling his hand away and seeing red. Oh, great.

“Well,” The resident doctor announced after a long moment, “I’m pretty sure it’s broken, but we’ll find out once we get home. Raph, when this is over, we are going to have a very long talk.”

Leonardo “hmm”ed softly as they started walking again, wiping blood off his face. The pain was, in the moment, actually manageable. It wasn’t too terrible, he really didn’t understand what the big deal was. Faces were easy to break anyway, he was fine as long as it didn’t really affect anything.

%%%

Once home, Donatello approached Leonardo with the first aid kit, clearly wanting to go to him first since he possibly had his beak broken.

But one glance over Donatello, and Leonardo knew that he should probably get some care first.

“Don, take a look at yourself, first. If you’re bleeding all over the place you can’t take care of anybody else.”

The purple-clad opened his mouth like he wanted to argue with him over that, before realizing that no, it was not an argument he was going to win. He lingered for a long moment, then turned away to deal with the others first. Leonardo smirked, knowing he had won, and turned his attention to cleaning his katanas and figuring out the best way to repair the chip in the blade.

Eventually, when Donatello returned, bandaged and looking a little more than annoyed, he grabbed Leonardo’s face and made him look at the genius before slowly bandaging his beak. Leonardo said nothing, although the movements jostled whatever was broken and made it sting, he refused to wince or hiss over something so small. While Donatello went on to cleaning and bandaging the other injuries, he confirmed his earlier suspicion.

“It is broken.”

Raphael flinched, like that was the worst thing in the world (Leonardo knew it was guilt, but didn’t say anything about that).

“Oh,” he said, mulling it over. Like he said, it wasn’t too bad, it was only his beak.

“What do you mean oh?” Donatello’s voice raised slightly, almost into a screech.

“I mean, it's not really that bad, right? It's not gonna, y’know, affect anything, it just hurts.”

Everybody blinked, astonished, before it clicked that of course Leonardo would be so unbothered by it, he was just Leonardo, he didn’t really have the energy, nor the will to care about things like that anymore.

Donatello scowled and Raphael still apologized anyway, Michelangelo was silent across the room, staring at Leonardo.

Leonardo had to cut Raphael off. It was fine, he was angry too, he knew that they still didn’t fully trust Karai, it was fine, it was fine.

He could still tell that Raphael was beating himself up about it, though. It was always clear, the hothead was like an open book.

%%%

It was two in the morning.

It was two in the morning.

It was two in the morning.

Raphael groaned and rolled over to slap the hand shaking him, presuming that it could only be Michelangelo.

Instead, the hand he grabbed was far more callused from endless hours of training, scarred from brutal battles that were long past.

He paused, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to get his head working. They had to fight blind plenty of times, they all learned to recognize each other just by the feel of their scales and hands. There was only one person who trained enough to get his hands that rough, free of childish innocence and soft skin.

“Leo?” Raphael mumbled, slowly sitting up and yawning, “What is it?”

“I need you to come with me, we’re supposed to meet up with Karai,” Leonardo whispered in the dark, still invisible to Raphael. They were-

“What?”

“Mhm. She texted me like, an hour ago. She wants to explain to the two of us. You, because you were so upset and me because, y’know.”

“Oh.”

Raphael blinked a few more times. His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and he could see a burning gaze fixated on him. It was almost creepy. After all, Leonardo always managed to be the stealthiest of them, so it was like those horror movies, just seeing a shadow, then bright eyes reflecting dim light and just. Staring.

He grunted and kicked out weakly to move the older of the two before he crawled out of bed, yawning again and stretching. “Alright, alright, let's go.” He didn’t even have his mask on yet, but this was clearly something that Leonardo wanted to get to quickly, and considering that Raphael planned on getting back to sleep immediately, he wasn’t too eager about getting his gear on for this event.

As they got going, he kept his eye on the bandages over his brother’s beak. Frick- He did that? Why? What was even his point? Instead of asking if Leonardo was angry, what came out was:

“Why'd she only want us to come?”

“Me and her are closer and you're more distrustful. Don and Mikey are just neutral towards her, she assumed they’d be less angry about it.”

“Oh.”

“Oh is right. Move faster, we'll be late at this rate.”

“It's the middle of the day for humans, Leo.”

“And? She will leave if we take too long.”

They neared what Raphael could only assume was the meeting spot, the roar of water getting louder until it was almost deafening. By the waterfall, Karai was leaned up against the wall, and Raphael’s rage flared up. That little-

He paused for just a second, trying to take deep breaths and soothe his anger. Something bad had already come out of it, he didn’t need anymore guilt on his mind.

Still, she smiled at them like nothing had happened, and didn’t even move to stand up straight. He wanted to wring her neck because of it. No apology? Nothing? No “sorry for abandoning you when you needed help”?

“What’s up?” she greeted casually, like nothing happened.

“You know what’s up,” he snarled, unable to help himself from snarking at her.

"Raph," Leonardo whisper-hissed, "Don't yell at her." After a moment to compose himself, the eldest met Karai's gaze evenly. "Still, we do want to know: Why?"

"Yeah, about that," Karai began, rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't really, y'know mean anything by it. I just knew an easier way to take it down quickly, and well, it'd be faster to do that, too, so…"

As she trailed off, Raphael shrank where he stood.

Oh. It really was a misunderstanding.

Leonardo nodded as if he understood what she had done and why she had done it. He probably did, too.

"Sorry, it uh, it probably looked like I was just leaving, huh? And uh, you're all definitely worse for wear."

Leonardo thanked her for apologizing, and Raph felt nothing as his brother did. that was not what he needed to make his night better.

Before he realized it, Leonardo was poking him, telling him Karai left a bit ago, he was waiting for Raphael to process, and they needed to go. Raphael nodded stiffly and walked in a daze, head down.

"You were right," Raphael mumbled at some point, getting a look and a "hm?". "It was just a misunderstanding. Sorry about- Y'know, about hitting you."

Leonardo stared for a long minute, leaving Raphael in uncomfortable silence for a bit before smiling, "It's alright, I already told you that, Raph.”

And there he went, just accepting the apology like it was nothing, because he was Leonardo.

Raphael turned on the TV when they got back, switching the channel to the news before settling down, unable to sleep. Leonardo, apparently, had the same idea, sitting down next to him. This time, silence was far more cozy. When they fell asleep there, nobody said a word about it in the morning.

All Day Exposure|G|1036 Words

Read on AO3

Fandom: 9-1-1

Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Characters: Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley

Tags: Whumptober 2024, Sunburn, Healing Salve, Alternate Universe - Magic, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Mentioned Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Witch Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Magic, Magic-Users, Witch Evan "Buck" Buckley

Summary: Eddie tries to help Buck’s sunburn the day after the tsunami.

Whumptober 2024 Day 5: Sunburn/Healing Salve

POV: You leave a hacker in a hot car

Summary:

After being kidnapped by Moose Boy and Otter Man, Player is left alone in the back of a van. And it's getting hotter by the minute.

(Made for Whumptober Day 5, Every Whumpee's Needs and the prompt "Hyperthermia")

Whumptober - 5. Gunpoint

1, 2, 3, 4

(Flash back)

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony grimaces when his neck snaps to the side and he glares up at the man above him, pulling back the hammer and pointing the gun at his head, “You shoot me and you don’t get what you want.”

“I shoot you and I get /everything/ I’ve ever wanted, Anthony,” the man spits at him, “But not before… a little test.”

Tony tenses when Justin turns the gun to Peter and steps slowly over to him.

“Don’t,” Tony warns him, “Don’t-”

“No?” Justin smiles sharply at him, “Don’t like the gun being on someone else?”

Tony shakes his head, “Kill me, leave the kid alone.”

“Or I could just… shoot him and then shoot you after,” Justin suggests, shrugging, “That’s a win-win if you ask me, Anthony.”

“Don’t hurt him, don’t you harm a goddamn hair on his head, I swear-”

“Or you’ll what?”

Tony presses his lips together, breathing calmly through his nose.

Justin reaches out, touching Peter’s jaw with the end of the gun and turning him to look up, “Looks like our friend Anthony is speechless. I gotta say, sport, that’s a first, even for me.”

Peter stares up at Justin, tears in his eyes, “Just take me, leave Mr. Stark alone.”

“My goodness,” Justin gasps and leans down, petting Peter’s hair, “You’re so /loyal/, and to such a scumbag. What did he do to get a pretty little boy like you wrapped so tightly around his finger, hm?”

Peter blushes.

“Leave him alone, Hammer,” Tony growls out, “I’m the one you want, I’ll give you anything, you just let him go-”

“Or is it the other way around?” Justin asks as he stands back upright, eyes filled with sick delight, “This kid got you around /his/ finger, Anthony? Come now, he’s just a child. Don’t… tell me it’s like that.”

“Its nothing like that.”

“No? Looks pretty clear from where I’m standing.”

Peter lets out a low sigh and turns to Tony, “My arms are getting tired, sir. I don’t think he knows anything, he’s just an idiot.”

Tony smiles, “Alright, alright. I think we’ve wasted enough time already.”

“What?” Justin asks in confusion.

Peter flexes his arms, snapping the ropes around his wrists, flipping his entire body up in the seat and slamming the chair against Justin’s head, knocking him out as Peter’s feet land back on the ground.

Tony stares up at him, clearing his throat, “Good job, kid. Mind helping me out here-”

He’s cut off when another man comes into the room, shouting in surprise when he sees that they’re making their escape.

Tony can’t do anything, still tied as the man leaps towards Peter first.

Enjoy? You can buy me a ko-fi or join my Patreon for lots more Starker stuff early and some exclusives, live writing etc…

debris / pinned down / it's broken

Coughing uncontrollably, Faye fell back against the wall despite the ominous way it creaked as her weight impacted against it. Well, fuck, if it was gonna collapse it should have done so in the upheaval that had just rocked the entire building. Faye had no sympathy for the wall, though she was grateful for the support it was offering her now as she tried not to choke on the air so thick with dust and debris.

Wheezing, she became aware of a sound that wasn’t due to the structure settling in the wake of the earthquake they’d just experienced. Relief flooded her at the groan that, while imbued with pain, was so familiar to her ears.

“Spike? You alive somewhere?” She called in a rough voice.

Another groan, as if he was fighting to regain or maintain consciousness. Faye scraped her back against the wall to assist herself in standing up before tentatively stepping away from the solid surface and moving off in the direction of the unhappy sounds of her partner. She was glad they were in a single story building because there was only so much roof that could tumble in on their heads here and, unless there was a fracture in the ground underneath their feet, there should be no risk of falling into the earth itself.

Well, she’d never hear the end of this, that was for sure. Nothing good came from Earth and nothing good happened if you overstayed your welcome topside either. The decision she’d made to try and uncover more of her own past had nearly buried her in it - though in her own defense it had been Spike’s idea to join her, so at least she wasn’t guilty of conning him into being there with her.

He’d displayed a peculiar curiosity in her upbringing when she had revealed to him and Jet that she truly did have her memories back. Her home was long gone but some of the places she’d gone to school had remained standing. Meteors had done a lot of damage to a lot of places, but the university had seemed stable enough to venture into. She’d only wanted to see if the mural she had painted in another life was still there on the wall of the health center, was that so much to ask? And maybe Spike’s interest had been due to how awful her drawing of Vincent had been - certainly his eyebrows had climbed his forehead when she admitted to having done such a huge piece of art with her friends before they all graduated.

Jet had no desire to see anymore of her artistic ability. He was still pretty pissed at her for convincing Ed to traipse off on her own, and Faye couldn’t blame him. She had been in a state of near-delirium at the time but even still… Ed was so trusting. So susceptible to suggestion. It was Faye’s fault that the child had gone off with only Ein as company.

Spike had been close-lipped about his own feelings on the matter. He’d shrugged and said that Ed was a big girl who could take care of herself. He’d been on his own at her age and on the streets of Tharsis which he argued was a harsher landscape than the deserts of Earth. But he had also quietly agreed that the ship was too quiet these days and had given Jet his woolong card to put gas in the Hammerhead so Jet could jaunt about in a vague search for the hacker.

The RedTail was still in no shape for flying, something which Jet admitted he wasn’t in a hurry to fix. And while the Swordfish II had surprisingly been left alone while Spike waltzed off on his suicidal takedown of a syndicate… its owner was not in the best shape himself. Begrudgingly, he’d volunteered to let Faye fly his ship over to the school grounds, but only if she let him tag along.

Being grounded from flying and also basically grounded from bounty hunting had been chafing at Spike for weeks now. Being stuck here on Earth hadn’t been helping much but they’d fled Mars at a limp, pushing the Bebop beyond its limits to get away from the red planet before the cops looked too hard into what had happened and who had walked away from the rubble.

Not that he’d been walking.

Anyway, speaking of rubble…

Faye caught sight of a round-toe shoe on the carpet in the next room. Following that point, her eyes traveled up the dusty pant leg to Spike’s upper body, where his left hand was clasped against his left side, and then further up to his face which was twisted with an expression of utmost discomfort. His right leg was mostly covered by a tall filing cabinet that was pinning him to the floor.

“Hey, cowboy,” She greeted with a rasp, coughing again. “You responsible for all this mess?”

He opened his eyes to glare at her. “You didn’t tell me this place was literally falling apart.” He muttered.

She rolled her eyes skyward. “It’s all fucking ancient, Spike. There’s been no maintenance whatsoever to keep shit in one piece, and moon bits have been raining down on everything for decades now. Anyway I think… well, when we landed over in the parking lot… did you notice something odd smelling?”

Clearly puzzled at her question, Spike frowned in thought. “Uhhh…”

Faye shook her head in dismissal as she went to his side. “I think some flammable natural gas went ka-blooey.” She gestured at his side. “You take some damage or what?”

Spike’s eyes widened at her explanation. “Faye, if you blew my fucking ship up somehow…”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” She replied with a shrug. “Don’t go borrowing trouble that we might not have. Now what’s going on here? Why haven’t you gotten up?”

He let out his breath in a hiss as she pressed against the hand held to his side.

“My fucking leg is pinned down by this piece of shit cabinet,” He muttered then, shifting his glare to the dingy green metal. “I tried to move it and…” He shut his mouth abruptly.

“Uh huh. Opened yourself back up a bit, eh?” She inhaled deeply and coughed again. “Well, we’re gonna have to see how bad this is before we mess around with that.” She prodded at his hand again and he swiped at her with his right hand, though the motion was enough of a twist that he stiffened and drew in a breath through tightly clenched teeth.

Giving up on that for the moment, Faye got to her feet and started poking around the debris.

Spike watched through half-lidded eyes. “What are you looking for?”

She shrugged again. “This is the health center - or was. I mean, this room probably has jack shit to offer but one of these other rooms might have some gauze or skin glue or something to piece you back together long enough to get us back to the ship where Jet can fix you up better. What were you doing in this office anyway?”

He glanced over at the window which had either broken during the earthquake or had been broken at some point before. It was impossible to tell old damage from new, and the floor near the window was littered with shards and dust. There was something bright outside and Faye moved closer to try and get a better look. Glass crunched under her boots as she pressed herself against the wall in shock.

There it was. The mural.

It was painted onto the outside wall of the next section of the health center, with a grassy area in between the two buildings. Faye remembered there being a handful of trees there at one time, and a bunch of benches. It was supposed to be an area where people could retreat to nature while on campus, a little respite from the brick and concrete buildings. The school had offered therapy sessions out there in the open air on nice days. The administration at the time of Faye’s attendance had judged the area too sterile despite the blossoming trees. They had held a competition for students to come up with artwork and then settled on a winner whose concept would find a home on the outer wall.

It hadn’t been Faye’s drawing that won. She simply wasn’t that good of an artist, then or now. Her friend Miyuki had been an amazing artist and had won the competition. Faye and the others had helped her paint a rich landscape scene of Pulau Ubin. It was somewhat chipped these days but the sense of calm evoked by the mossy stone covered shoreline meeting the lapping waves… the scattering of clouds catching glimmers of varying colors as the sun set (or rose depending on how the viewer chose to see the picture)... it was at once heartbreakingly familiar and devastatingly far from who she was now. She could remember adding blues to the water, adding cream to the sky… She could remember their gossip, their laughter, the way their presence buoyed her even on her worst days. She could remember sitting on the bench after they were done, enjoying the fruits of their labor, and best of all overhearing the delighted reactions of everyone who came and saw.

It was such a soothing piece. The perfect thing to offer consolation to a wounded heart, or inspire hope in someone whose spirits were flagging. It was, even now in disrepair and with portions missing entirely, just as beautiful as she had thought it was when it was fresh and she was surrounded by the loving and supportive friends she’d had for years - and thought she’d had forever.

“Faye?”

Startled momentarily by the intrusion into her reminiscence, Faye jerked her head around at Spike’s call. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and blood beginning to soak through his shirt and jacket to touch on the paleness of his hand.

“I… I’ll be back,” She managed before fleeing the room. Quickly, she darted into the next space and the next until she was finally able to acquire some of the medical supplies she’d desperately hoped might still be in the building. Gauze and bandages tended to hold up decently well over the passage of time, and that was fortunate because that was what he needed the most.

She made her way back to the office where Spike remained trapped. A shiver of fear raced down her spine when he silently allowed her to help him shrug off the blood soaked clothing of his upper body, though that was quite a painful ordeal no doubt. It always made her nervous when he went quiet like this, and when he let her wrap him up. A bitchy Spike meant a Spike that was feeling well enough to bitch. A silent Spike was a Spike troubled by either physical ailments or mental anguish and neither boded well.

Afterwards, as he recovered from the shifting around required to undress him and affix the bandages tightly into place, she carefully rolled out the drawers of the filing cabinet one by one and emptied them of the various contents. Once done with that, she eyed her partner up before taking a deep breath.

“Ready?”

Spike grit his teeth and nodded.

The filing cabinet was lighter now with the drawers empty, though it’d be lighter still if she’d been able to remove the drawers entirely, something she’d briefly attempted but had given up on when the struggle involved seemed to add too much agony to Spike’s features. He still gave a sharp gasp as she managed to lift and then twist and drop the heavy piece of office furniture.

Glancing down, she observed with relief that his leg appeared to be fine. Or, at least there were no bones protruding anywhere she could see. Turning from her cursory inspection of his newly revealed limb, she crouched next to him and used a bit of gauze to wipe at his sweaty face.

“Okay there?” She queried.

“Think my ankle might be broken,” He replied in a grumpy voice.

“Better a break than a sprain,” Faye said then. “Breaks heal, sprains are never quite the same. You need a minute or you ready for me to haul you up?”

He took stock of his condition for a moment before looking back at her. “Let’s do it.”

Once steady on his feet, or rather once he was upright and leaning heavily on her, Spike tilted his chin towards the window.

“I wanna see it before we go. Went through all the hassle of getting here…”

Wordlessly, Faye worked with him to maneuver to the broken window. They stood there for several long minutes as Spike regarded the scene and Faye strove to stay in the present moment while memories tried to tug her back. The grounds covered in verdant green, the trees laden with leaves that whispered in the breeze, the presence of good company making her feel less alone in the busy nearly-adult world of university.

Spike’s warmth at her side was reassuring. He was lost to quiet contemplation but it didn’t worry her this time. It didn’t seem pain-driven, merely the effect of taking in the mural. A part of her heart flickered with appreciation at sharing this with someone once more. She may not be surrounded by friends, but she wasn’t alone either.