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🎃Whumptober Day 1: Panic Attack (Phantom Thieves x Reader)🎃

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

Warning: Panic Attack

Loneliness. That is what you are currently feeling right now. Maybe you regret leaving your, now ex-friend group. Either way, it would be awkward to go back to them now. There was a new quietness in your life now. You are starting to not mind it now. You have some more free time for yourself. Though...you had notice that you feel a little more...anxious? You are not quite sure about what this feeling is. You continue to study and have a crisis about your future.

You don't want to disappoint your family.

You don't want to be a burden to them.

You don't want to end up being a stain in society.

You don't want to have a worthless life.

You don't want to be homeless.

You don't want everyone to look down at you.

You don't want to be a financial dependent on someone.

You don't want to work at a soulless job.

You don't want to be considered a failure.

You don't want to be considered as someone who threw their life away.

You don't want to work to death.

But you guess you have to.

You continue to do your homework when you felt pain in your chest. It was subtle. You dumbly thought it could be you slouching most of the time. But you can feel your breathing gets faster. The pain in your chest doesn't go away. You feel fidgety and restless. You want to rest in order to get this...whatever this is in control but you also need to finish your work. You try to slow down your breathing and continue to work.

Guess you'll get used to it.

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

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

Warning: Interrogation Room Spoilers, character death

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

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

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

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

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

BANG

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

🎃Whumptober Day 3: Motion Sickness (Phantom Thieves x Reader)🎃

Note: From Persona 5 Scramble. Also vomiting is mention but not describe

You had never been on a boat before, so you were excited. Despite the unfortunate event of having to fight shadows again, you guys still have time to do all the stuff you all originally going to do. So here you are, on the boat...vomiting in the toilet. It was an unwanted surprise. The others decide to support you through your personal hell. Pats on your back, some easy to digest food, and occasionally playing video games, mostly with Ryuji and Futaba. It won't be long till you all get to the island...wait then you have to get on the boat again to get back.

Ah shit.

A demon would do better than that

**Whumptoober 2024** Running out of time | panic attack

In which Dazai and Chuuya are leaving Paris and returning to Japan but that gives Dazai too much time to think about what happened.

Feel like this could have been ‘whumper’ but I have a weak spot for soukoku and happy endings

TW: suicide ideation, self loathing

His breath keeps getting thinner, the world around him spinning and spinning. They are running out of time, every tick of that horrendous watch in Chuuya’s wrist keeps reminding him of that. Fyodor went to Yokohama and they are stuck in this stupid helicopter.

He can’t breathe, why can’t he breathe? He grabs his shirt fiercely hoping it would ground him and stop this. Doesn’t work.

He got it all wrong, Dazai Osamu is no genius, he is a sham, a failure. They depended on him, and look how it turned out.

A fucking demon. Bringing disgrace to everyone he loves. No, he wished he was a demon, to be blessed with the aspect of not caring about anyone, but he isn’t. He has feelings, and those feelings are now telling him to jump from this helicopter.

Because he deserves it. Because he is a coward — too afraid to see what his mistakes caused to his family back in Yokohama.

“You better stop looking like that or I will chain you to your seat.”

The world stops abruptly and Dazai looks up to a Chuuya staring into his soul.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“I could hear you spiraling from a mile away, and you can be damn sure I am not letting you stupid mackerel run away from this.”

“I can’t defeat him. He outsmarted me.” Dazai says, voice cracking.

He looks away, his wounds are throbbing, a pain that once was a concession for their victory now was just another reminder of his failure.

“Maybe you can’t, maybe when we get there everyone will already be dead.”

His turns, gaze fixed on Chuuya who is just staring at the horizon.

“But I want to see it for myself. If we are going down, I will fall beside my companions. I want to know their last words. Or at least how they died. Don’t you?”

He gives one last look at the ground, contemplating. So far away. It wouldn’t be a painless death anyway.

“Yeah I do.”

“Good.” A pause, and to his surprise Chuuya grabs his coat and throws it at him. “But I know you will defeat him. You have a promise to uphold.”

He grabs it tight, feeling the comfort it always gives him.

“Careful Chibi, one more world and I will start to believe you still trust me.”

“Humpf, never stopped, your are a traitorous shithead. But I still trust you with my life. So put it together.”

Dazai blinks stunned. Chuuya’s face already turning into a tomato. A smile finds it’s way to Dazai’s face. He isn’t the demon prodigy anymore, he is too deep in the light for that, he can’t do things as flawless as one without emotions, they get in the way now.

But a demon wouldn’t have this, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

When the Past Comes Calling, I Can't Breathe

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Katsuki. Long time no see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Ts nothing.” Katsuki muttered.

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

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

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

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

Katsuki just nodded curtly.

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

Katsuki nodded again.

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

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

“Are… you okay?” Kaminari asked hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That got him looks from all of his friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the Past Comes Calling, I Can't Breathe

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Katsuki. Long time no see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Ts nothing.” Katsuki muttered.

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

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

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

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

Katsuki just nodded curtly.

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

Katsuki nodded again.

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

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

“Are… you okay?” Kaminari asked hesitantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That got him looks from all of his friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A beat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed, Tina Chen & Gavin Reed Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson, Gavin Reed, Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Whumptober 2024, Blood and Injury, Blood Loss, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human) Series: Part 1 of sevenlemen Whumptober 2024 Summary:

#1 Race Against the Clock/#17 Nowhere Else to Go. Connor is trapped alone and bleeding out.

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

Much less this someone else.

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.

This is so beautiful, but omg it's not even 8am and I'm already crying 😭

Carrying On

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 4 - "you're still alive in my head" (Billy Locket, More)

Rated: G | Words: 375

“That form’s not going to fill out itself.” 

Fives sighs. “I know that. I’m trying to figure out how to word this.” 

“You’re trying to figure out how to lie on an official report,” Echo deadpans. 

“I’m not going to lie,” Fives counters. “I’m going to embellish to hide the ugliness of the truth. Those are two very different things.” 

“Hmm,” Echo hums, unimpressed by the argument. “Rex is going to see right through your osik. So will the General.” 

“Well, then,” Fives says with a grin, “I guess I’ll just write for their entertainment.”

“Reports aren’t supposed to be entertaining. They’re supposed to be informative.” 

“They can be both if they’re not written by you,” Fives croons. He begins typing. 

“Don’t forget to add where you dropped into the wrong corridor,” Echo says. 

Fives grunts. “That’s irrelevant.” 

“Seems relevant when you set off two alarms doing it.” 

“I deactivated them before I got caught, didn’t I? I’m an ARC, I improvised.” 

“You were sloppy.” 

“I would’ve liked to see you do better,” Fives snaps. His breath catches for a moment and he stops typing. “No. You would’ve done better.”

Echo doesn’t answer for a long moment, and Fives is afraid he left. He closes his eyes and waits. “We all make mistakes,” Echo says finally. “Just…you need to be more careful, Fives.” 

“I’m trying,” Fives mutters. “It’s not the same without you covering my six.” 

“I’m not the only brother who can have your back,” Echo says. 

Fives frowns down at the datapad gripped in his fists. “But I need you.” 

“I’m not there,” Echo tells him. He sounds like he’s pleading. “You have to carry on, Fives.” 

“Easier said than done,” Fives murmurs. 

A knock behind him makes Fives turn, and Rex stands in the doorway. “Got that report almost finished?”

Fives clears his throat. “Um, yeah—yes, sir. Almost finished.” 

Rex nods. “Good, man.” His expression shifts. “First solo mission.” 

“Yes, sir,” Fives says. 

“You holding up?” 

“Of course. Carrying on.” Fives tries to smile. He knows Rex isn’t convinced. 

The Captain doesn’t say so. He only nods again and leaves Fives to finish his report. 

“Echo?” Fives whispers. 

Silence, deep and empty. Then, “I’m here, Fives. I’ll always be here.”

I listened to the song More by Billy Locket on repeat while writing this story (which is where the prompt came from for today!). Please, please listen to it...it's such a beautifully tragic song, and I couldn't help but think about our clone boys while listening to it 😭

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @proteatook @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @baddest-batchers @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy

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!

Whumptober 2024 - No.7 UNCONVENTONAL WEAPON

Hawaii Five-0 6x18 Danny faces down a suspect with a bow and arrow when he is without his usual weapon

@whumptober

These GIFs with my grumpy bear are fabulous! Awesome! Wonderful!!!

Danny is a BAMF!!!

Whumptober 2024 - No.7 UNCONVENTONAL WEAPON

Hawaii Five-0 6x18 Danny faces down a suspect with a bow and arrow when he is without his usual weapon

@whumptober

Guess who’s attempting to do a really giant Varigo and co in a cave one shot with all the prompts in order for whumptober?!!?

(if you guessed me you win a prize)

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | “If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

OC Whump

Hi, this is my first time posting content and this is my first contribution to Whumptober. It's about OC, so if you have any questions about them or the universe…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 !

Damp corridor, metal doors, one, two, three, a staircase down to the right, a corridor to the left - stairs are slippery and narrow - a first flight of steps, a second, plunged into the gloom that only his wolf's eyes can pierce, then a step that opens onto a wide underground stone corridor. He lunges forward.

A hand grabs him by the shoulder, closes over the dirty, damp fabric of his hoodie, restraining him.

-Detection spell, Gend whispers in his ear.

With a complex gesture of his left hand, the man disperses the spell into oblivion. They'll know they've been compromised, but not to what extent. Silver barely waits the explosion of the spell before resuming his advance through the tunnel, Gend at his heels illuminated by a luminous orb floating in the air. They make rapid progress, a running pace that Silver would certainly turn into a desperate rush forward if the other entity let him.

They both know what's at stake. The stakes. They've had breakfast with him, filled out papers on his advice, exchanged reading recommendations. They've seen him smile, they've teased him, they've watched him bleed and fight and bandage their wounds.

It's not fatigue that makes Gend's heart beat so fast, nor stupidity that drives Silver to keep going and turn the town upside down while his whole body betrays a deep exhaustion that worsens with each passing hour.

There will come a time when they can't take it anymore.

The corridor leads to a larger, circling, rocky room with three doors and a continuation of the corridor a little further on.

Silver suddenly yelps, and the older man suddenly raises his hand, ready to protect the only other member of their Triumvirate left with all his might. But no danger threatens, and yet the werewolf drops to the ground with a deep breath. Gend stares at him, expectant. Clearly, his companion had found something. A lead, a clue, anything that could confirm that they were on the right track, that they weren't making a mistake and wasting time on something that would lead them nowhere. It's been five days.

Silver raises her head in a jerky movement. Large, gold-spangled eyes, glittering with the manic energy of a man who hasn't slept in days, meet Gend's.

-That's his scent. He was here, he was here !

Silver spins around, his nose twitching in a very non-human way, trying to gather all the information he can find. Gend focus on the tiny traces of aura he can still perceive. It's faint, very faint, but he manages to feel the trace of a cold, sharp energy, the one he associates with their third member. A knot tightens in his stomach as a wave of despair washes over him, numbs his frozen fingers. A burning bitterness rising in his throat and lodging just behind his tongue.

Armand was there, so close, so close of a rescue perhaps, they missed him by maybe a few hours, and now maybe this mistake will sign his doom...

Silver straightened up and opened one of the doors on the left. Whatever the room contains makes him freeze on the threshold, and Gend pushes the fear that's stirring further into his stomach so he can go and support his teammate. Reaching behind him, however, he understands his shock.

Thick chains hang from the wall.

Gend's sense of smell is not as good as Silver's, but good enough to recognize the faint,metallic odor tickling his nostrils. His chest constricts painfully.

They knew. They knew Armand was being tortured, of course, but it's different to find concrete proof.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the underground is their two ragged breaths, then Silver turns and strides off down the tunnel.

-Silver...!

-Come on, we must be close, if we can find more clues, if we can exploit this lead, we can...

The werewolf stumbles and barely regains his balance. He has to lean on the wall with one hand to keep from collapsing.  His heartbeat is strangely violent and irregular, and his magic erratic. The knot in Gend's stomach tightens. They're exhausted, they're clumsy, they're going to make mistakes, endanger themselves unnecessarily and endanger Armand. A few hours is a long time, and the trail is already cold.

-Silver, he repeats softly.

-Fuck, no, Gend ! Explodes his friend. No ! They're torturing him ! He's been alone with them for a week ! I'm not leaving him ! As long as I can breathe, as long as I can stand, then I can keep looking for him ! So go back to the guild if you want, but leave me out of it, okay ?!

His anger poorly conceals his fear and the sobs beneath his cries.

-You can barely stand, Silver ! hisses Gend.

-I can, chokes his friend. I can still stand. If I can just hold on a little longer, then I can find him, bring him home...

-Not like this ! Gosh, your body's giving out ! Just a few more hours. Just a few hours. Please. Five hours of sleep, one meal, and I swear we'll be on our way. There's an inn next to that building. Silver, please...

And reasoning with Silver Shein when someone he loves is in danger has never been easy, but the guardian is also one of Gend's loved ones and he has lost enough over the last week. If he has to use other means of persuasion, he will.

-Three hours, growls a hoarse voice. And you report our position to Brian so one of his teams can come and investigate the damn tunnel.

-Yes ! nods the bar manager.

He chooses not to point out to Silver that he would never have left this trail unexplored. His friend is beyond exhaustion, and Gend will pass on this unpleasant innuendo.

Armand is his friend just as much as Silver is, and every cell in his body is screaming at him to keep going, to plunge deeper into the darkness, motivated by the mad hope of finding the part of himself that's missing at the end of this tunnel.

But of the three, Gend has always been the most reasonable, the voice of reason. For now, he has the means to preserve one of the people dear to his heart. He won't lose one to another.

Silently, as he heads for the exit alongside Silver, he begs Armand to hold on a little longer.

No. 2 : Altprompt / Finding Old Messages

OC Whump

Hi, here is my second contribution for Whumptober !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Beacon left his room without looking back.

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edwin heads for home.

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you.”

Hi, here is my contribution no.3 for Whumptober !

A bit of context : Helios is a delusional, tyrannical and powerful demigod who seeks to build a family by “adopting” (i.e. kidnapping) people. Justine is one of the people he’s trying to adopt. She’s a 14 years-old teenager.

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 !

Justine is beginning to think she's good at controlling her reactions. Or maybe she really is getting used to the situation, which is a more unpleasant thought than she can tolerate at the moment.

However, she can't repress herself when the officer who's supposed to bring back a translator invites Helios into his office.

She's never been one to scream when she's in the grip of strong emotion, but everyone has their exceptions, and she throws herself out of her seat to slam against the wall, screaming in panic when the demigod immediately moves towards her, hand outstretched.

-No, no! NO!

The officer studies the scene with a relaxed air, watching as the tall, intimidating man grabs the handcuffed teenager by the arm and pulls her towards him with harsh words in another language. The girl sobs and tries to wriggle free, but the adult's strength is far superior and he shakes her a little, his voice sharp, until she gives up and bows her head, trembling all over.

Helios turns away to exchange sentences she doesn't understand with the officer, a member of the militia, supposed to protect and serve the citizens, supposed to hide her and help her join her father. The mage keeps a painful grip on her upper arm, holding her so close to him that she almost has her nose in the light tunic he's wearing.

The officer approaches and unlocks the handcuffs with a chuckle in response to what Helios tells him. Both men's tones are relaxed, even if Justine detects a hint of tension in the mage's. He tightens his grip as soon as the cuffs drop and she bites her lip to keep from letting out a sound of pain.

He's going to punish her. He's going to kill her. No one cares. The militiaman has seen her reaction to the demigod's entrance. It's not the reaction of a runaway child, but that of a girl terrified for her life. He sends her back to her nightmare without the slightest hint of guilt. How much were they paid to ignore their duty ?

Helios turns to her :

-If you behave even a little less than perfectly on the way home, I'll kill everyone involved and make you regret it. Is that clear ?

It takes her a moment to find the words, long enough for him to press his fingers into her flesh, causing her to yelp in pain.

-Is that clear ?

-Yes ! Yes ! I'm sorry ! the girl adds hastily, desperate to find the answer that will make him release the pressure.

His grip loosens as a fresh wave of tears wells up in her eyes.

Instead, he takes her hand and slips the militiaman a few more coins before leaving.

Justine keeps her eyes lowered to her feet until they reaches the carriage, crossing the building without attracting more than a glance from soldiers too busy to notice her distress, unless they actively choose to ignore her.

Helios pulls her up beside him, not in front of him. He still doesn't loosen his grip on her hand either, though it's more cautious than the one on his arm. She doesn't dare try to free herself, afraid of the outburst of violence this might provoke.

The first few minutes of the trip are spent in stony silence. Justine is unable to completely stop her hiccups, let alone the uncontrollable trembling that runs through her. Her quiet cries are the only sound in the cabin.

Then Helios lets out a long sigh and slumps back against the seat. He stays like that for a minute, then turns to consider the absolutely terrified child beside him. Her scruffy hair hides her face, and he leans over to clear it a little. Justine lets out a loud sob at the touch. Her eyes are closed and she tenses in anticipation of a violent gesture.

He doesn't hit her, just looks at her intently.

-I warned you.

She cowers a little.

-I told you I trusted you to behave. I told you that you didn't stand a chance and that you'd be punished if you tried to run away.

-I'm sorry, murmurs the child, almost too low for his superior hearing to pick it up.

Oh, Justine's a smart kid. Unlike some, she rarely hesitates to tell him what he wants to hear to ensure her safety. Unfortunately, he's no fool. She also doesn’t hesitate to try to flee when the opportunity presents itself, and now she has to face the consequences. Learning that their actions have consequences and setting limits is essential in the development of a well-balanced child and in their relationship with the people who take care of them.

-If you must know, the arresting officer didn't even recognize you until he got his hands on you. Normally, they don't bother bringing a thief to the barracks for such a small amount of food, so it's lucky he remembered your face.

She got captured for stolen food ? Is she going back to that hellhole because she couldn't get that potato galette quietly enough ?

The idea nearly sends her into a fit of hysterical laughter, which immediately dies in her throat as Helios leans towards her.

-Every member of the militia knows what you look like. They all know who to contact if you end up in one of their barracks.

The demigod is an imposing, menacing presence hovering over her.

-You never had a chance to escape, a velvet voice breathes softly in her ear.

-I've told you this before, but it seems you learn better from practice than from theory.

Helios straightens up so abruptly that the movement makes her flinch again. The grip on her hand tightens briefly.

-Well, I guess you weren't ready for this level of freedom. It looks like we'll have to give up the outdoors for a while. And of course, probably some extra homework, since you're so full of energy.

And Justine should be relieved that these are her only punishments (if she doesn't count the throbbing pain in her upper arm, which is already starting to bruise), but it's not just access to the outdoors that she's lost. All the fragile freedom she'd gained by dint of obedience has just vanished in the space of a failed test. Almost two months of delicate construction crumbled before her eyes.

-Clearly, the trust between us is more fragile than I thought, comments Helios. A little closeness can only do us good.

His thumb has begun to gently rub Justine's palm in what could be a comforting gesture.

-I can't wait.

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You’re still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

OC Whump

Hi, here is my contribution no.4 for Whumptober !

A bit of context : When he was younger, the Ensorceleur fled his home and met a man who drew him into his mercenary army. He trusted this man completely, without realizing that their relationship was anything but healthy. After years of committing atrocities on behalf of his mentor, he finally opened his eyes and left. But the experience have definitely left a mark.

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 world moved around without him seeming to belong to it. His body seemed to be in a different space-time, heavy and slow, while a complex choreography of fluid movements seemed to take place around. A thick, heavy fabric limited his movements and separated him from the rest of the world. On a deeper level, the Ensorceleur recognized the effects of an active substance, probably an opioid administered to calm the raging pain that had taken hold of his decomposing right arm. This recognition, however, didn't allow him to act on the consequences, which didn't help the swarm of agitated persons next to him to calm down.

Standing next to his shivering friend who was clearly in a state of shock, Api struggled to retain any vestiges of composure.

 -If there's one fucking piece of information that's correct and accurate in his file, it's that he reacts badly to opioids !

-It wasn't in his file, sir ! Retorted the young apprentice on the verge of tears.

-Then who messed with the files ?!

-I did the best I could with what I had, sir !

-Damn it!

At his wits end, the healer turned away and took a deep breath to calm himself. Well, at least the drug seemed to have greatly reduced the physical pain, which was the primary objective. On the negative side, the mercenary looked more distressed than Api had ever seen him.

The Ensorceleur buried his head in his knees with a moan, drawing his attention. The man who treated a show of weakness as the worst thing that could happen to him moaned. The healer dropped to one knee, hesitantly bringing his hands up to the other man. The problem with trying to heal an Entity completely drugged and trained to kill was that the slightest miscalculated gesture could have dramatic consequences.

-Easy, breathed a voice behind his ear before he could make contact with his friend.

Crouching beside him, Bryan regarded the Ensorceleur with a worried expression.

-If possible, avoid touching him. He sometimes reacts...violently, when he's not in his normal state.

-Has anything like this ever happened before ? inquired the healer cautiously.

The guild leader hesitated visibly, because...

-With his metabolism, yes, from time to time...Don't look at me like that ! he quickly defended himself against the healer's glare. We tried to get his cooperation on several potential treatment plans when necessary, when he was in top form, and he always refused ! Except that once he was injured, we had no choice but to try and treat him with what little medical history we had. So yes, sometimes things got out of hand, and I've seen him in that kind of state before.

The Ensorceleur muttered a series of garbled words incomprehensible to them, and Bryan winced.

-Well, maybe not like this. His reactions to opioids are one of the pieces of information he's shared with us on his own.

-Hey. I need you to focus on us and try to communicate how you're feeling. I have a drug with an antagonistic effect that may help you feel better, but with your strange metabolism, I'd rather we let the effect wear off on its own. But I need to know how you feel, Api said slowly and distinctly to his patient.

The Ensorceleur could have answered him. He could have told him immediately to give him the strongest possible dose of his magic product. In fact, he would probably have begged him to do so, had he been able to hear what Api was saying.

But the ghostly hand resting on the back of his neck like tthe executioner guillotine had ensured that his undivided attention went to the only person in the room worthy of it.

Didn’t I taught you that showing weakness is the best way to get others to stab you in the back ?

Not real. He wasn't. He was drugged, and he absolutely had to hold onto that thought. At all costs.

You've never been one to hide behind lies. But I guess that's what you needed to keep hiding behind Silver Shein's back like a scared child.

The hand had more weight now, nails digging into flesh.

It's pathetic. You look like a beaten dog. But I suppose my disgust is normal. Few artists are ever satisfied with their creations.

The Ensorceleur exhaled the liquid lead in his lungs in a long, hoarse hiss and tried to convince himself that the hand on the back of his neck was more reassuring than terrifying, whether it belonged to Api or Bryan, or even Freya, who distrusted him but wouldn't hurt him for no reason, least of all in front of Bryan's eyes.

He forced himself to open his eyes and stare at Api's anxious face hovering in front of him. Whatever he felt behind him wasn't real. Just a hallucination brought on by the painkiller. Nothing that could hurt him, just a conspiracy from his brain and senses. If he concentrated on Api's features, on his reassuring presence, then the hallucinations would have a harder time dragging him into the dark corner of his consciousness where they resided.

Except that a pale face burst into his field of vision, blocking out his friend's view. The Enchanter gasped and threw himself backwards. His skull hit the wall with a thud and a flash of white flashed into his retina for a second, just a second ; that was enough.

A leather-gloved iron fist closed around his neck, strangling the scream. A weight much heavier than it should have crushed his hips, pinning him to the ground, and Magister leaned over him, smiling broadly, his pupils two black holes dripping ink onto his face.

Perhaps your brother's son would make a better canvas...or a better receptacle !

The man's face melted, lengthened a little, and his hair grew and lightened until a mass of curls frame familiar features. A grotesque parody of Lucien laughed in his face, before vomiting black, stale blood onto his chest. The Ensorceleur received a few drops in his mouth and audibly choked, struggling to free himself from his mentor's grasp.

-No. N-no...

He’s choking

Even now, you don't beg. Is there anything that could make you give up your misplaced pride ? Are they so insignificant to you, those you claim to protect ?

-Nooo...

We'll see, whispered the abomination with his nephew’s face. We'll see how quickly you fall at his feet...

When I've repaired your mistake and got my new suit of flesh, finished Magister, his mentor, master, friend and executioner.

Through the delirious terror (not for himself, never for himself, because his master would never hurt him, but the others, the insignificant...) that clouded his mind, he became aware of an increasingly acute pain in his arm. He resumed his pitiful attempts to free himself. He was the Ensorceleur, he had to fight, to keep going, to do the only thing he was good at...

But he had never been able to make even a violent gesture towards Magister.

You love me more than you've ever loved anyone.

Warm breath on his nose. Ice-blue eyes, punctuated with shadows and shades, so close he could almost see the constellations formed by the black flakes in the iris.

I'll try to sedate him

Watch his arm

Moist warmth on his cheeks, distant and impersonal. Emotions blunted and others too vivid to comprehend that clash and leave him torn, barely able to put together the pieces that make him the Ensorceleur.

I love you.

A sharp but localized pain in his arm.

I forgive you.

The last image to followed him into the muddy waters of unconsciousness were those icy eyes. Or...warm brown, perhaps?

He prefered this softer brown.

L'Ensorceleur let himself be drawn under the surface, where neither ghosts nor memories can follow him.

You belong to me, after all.

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.

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY’RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | “It’s not my blood.”

OC Whump

Hi, here is my contribution no.6 for Whumptober !

A bit of lore : All the children here are between 14 and 20 years old. Justine is the same Justine of day 3, but four years older. Will probably made it more clear when i’m not dissolving from exhaustion anymore.

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. This one is not very graphic, but check the tags for TW and enjoy !

Aaron didn't take the time to question the caregivers further when he overheard one of them talking about “Silver Shein's kids”, which for anyone who knows anything about Silver is a way of referring to the small band of various children, teenagers and young adults who gravitate around the guild.

It's entirely by chance that he's here to hear this. He has a magically-reinforced radius to check and the splint removed, and since one of Api's healers took care of it, the easiest thing to do is to come back to the clinic.

But last night, he learned from Aurore that most of the gang had planned to spend the day together. They're pretty reckless and impulsive, unsurprising for kids who've flirted with death and suffered enough for a lifetime, most of them long before puberty. They get into impossible situations and end up injured more often than normal kids.

It's probably not serious. They're reckless, but it's often benign stuff.

He ignores the little voice reminding him that Lucien is a healer himself, that he could easily handle minor injuries.

Then again, maybe they've just come to say hello to Api or look for Justine. The healer and his daughter are close of the children (of Lucien and Loan, especially, unsurprisingly. What they've all been through at the hands of Helios has brought them terribly close). Justine is as much a part of the gang as any of the other kids.

Aaron strides up the stairs, concerned but not really worried. It's probably nothing. He'll just check it out as a precaution. He has to admit, the little gang has certainly risen in his esteem with their exploits. Besides, his daughter is with them anyway, so he can say hi.

The corridors of the clinic are busy, and as he glances down each corridor and open room he passes, people linger on his face before looking away sheepishly. The gnarled scar that disfigures him tends to create a morbid fascination, even more so in places of care where the frequency of such terrible injuries dissipates the modesty of upbringing.

He has learned not to care, and even less so when he's in the midst of such an important task as finding the children.

He wanders for another 10 minutes without finding or hearing anything, and he's beginning to think he's understand wrong when he turns the corner of a hallway and comes upon them.

He recognizes Jonah first, standing off to the side, partially blocking the other’s view, in profile. The teenager's clothes are stained with dirt and dust, and rust-colored streaks down his back.

Lea is the first to see him, her green eyes widening as she rises from the bench where she's sitting. Her features are tense and the right side of her hair is plastered to her head with clotted blood.

Lucien, sitting next to the bench leaning against the wall, is startled and follows his friend's gaze. He looks haggard, but the sight of Aaron seems to bring him back to consciousness. A gleam passes through his eyes. Aaron has seen enough fear to recognize it in a flash.

Halsyl, who spotted him at the same time as Lea, stands back beside Loan, his eyes reddened and lips trembling.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, precisely because Loan is at the end of the corridor, sitting on another bench, pale and silent. He's wearing a vermillion tinted of brown tunic, half up, while a healer is bent over his abdomen, hands glowing with magic.

Aaron rushes into the corridor, all remaining calm evaporating to give way to cold, cutting fear.

-Aaron...!  begins Lea, but he ignores her, because parts of Loan's tunic are an off-white color that clashes with the rest, and his brain has already made the connection, has already come to the logical conclusion: that Loan is covered in blood, probably seriously injured, because life can't leave this kid alone.

The unmistakable metallic smell that catches his nose as he stumbles up beside them seems to point to this theory and Aaron hopes, really hopes, that maybe it's not so bad. That Loan will be fine and that he won't have to contact Silver in a hurry to get someone to pull Nathaniel out of whatever place he's practicing his talents at the moment.

-Loan, Aaron said, his voice steady but urgent. Loan, kid, where are you hurt ? Hey, he scolds the healer without waiting for the boy's response, what happened ? Where's he hurt ? Why is he being treated in the corridor ?

The healer, looking very calm, doesn't even look up from his task as he answers.

-He’s fine, sir, don’t panic. Just a broken rib and a few others cracks, it repairs very well, and considerating of the flow of patients we have, I prefer to do it quickly in the hallway.

Aaron opens his mouth, then closes it. That’s... good. That’s good, but...

-Broken ribs wouldn’t bleed like that, he whistles. Where did it come from ? What’s all this blood ? Loan ?

-Sir, relax, he’s fine, it’s the most important, declares firmly the caregiver.

-Aaron, it’s okay, I... I can explain...

Lea’s tone is cautious and hesitant. She is Silver’s sister, who turned the Ensorceleur and made Helios so mad that he hates her even more than his brother. She is never hesitant, she is too impulsive and hot-headed for thar. He would knows, he has fought beside her countless times. This girl is not afraid of anything.

-Explain what ? The reason why Loan is in this state ? What did you all do ?!

-It’s not my blood, mumbles a faint voice.

-What ?! barks the mercenary as he turns around to glare at Loan. Halsyl flinches.

He feels an old fear begin to rise, a terror from his deepest nightmares.

Aurore is not with the group. She must be in the bathroom. Or out for coffee. Or somewhere else, in top form.

-It’s not my blood, the young man repeats half hidden behind his black hair, and he closes his eyes.

-I’m sorry.

-Where is Aurore ?

Aaron’s pulse is racing as a parent’s worst nightmare comes to life right before his eyes. They just left for a day out together in the city. In a relatively safe environment. What could have happened ? How ? Aurore must be somewhere else. It can’t be her blood on Loan’s tunic. That’s too much, right ? So at least not just her blood, maybe also from others people ?

-Where...where the fuck…

-In the operating room.

The caregiver is the one responding. He stood up at one point and faced Aaron, his posture open and deliberately non-threatening, as if trying to calm a beast. He has come between him and Loan, apparently unimpressed by the mountain of muscles with a deformed face that threatens to lose his composure. -She had lost a lot of blood and presented impressive injuries, but was treated immediately. It was the chief healer Api d'Estreya who took care of it.

The mercenary feels like he is underwater. Words are distant and muffled. His daughter is in the operating room with serious injuries. She has lost a lot of blood. This information is bouncing back and forth in his mind. From far away, he vaguely hears Lea trying to explain what happened. She talks about a street fight that went wrong, about stabbing.

Aurore was stabbed. Several times.

-Where is the room ?

-Right next door. Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you not to rush inside so you don’t put her in more danger.

Does he think he’s an idiot ? He knows that. He thinks about telling him, but the thought immediately dissipates as it sounds useless. Aurore is in danger. His duty as a father is not to put her in more danger, right ? If he can’t protect her, then at least he has to minimize the damage, right ?

The violent dizziness of the news passes a little while years of military training finally kick in and he suddenly grabs the doctor by the shoulders. The man tenses but doesn’t make a single move to escapes.

-I want every detail on her condition.

-Very well, the man nods. I’ll just ask you to sit down before you get sick.

He makes him put his head between his knees for a while, brings him a glass of water and explains that the quick reaction (Loan slowed the bleeding while Lucien teleported all three of them over a remarkable distance for his power. The others joined them on foot) had greatly improved her chances. The injury itself is impressive, but not complicated to heal. She should survive. Aaron still feels strangely detached from everything that’s going on, but he’s not about to get sick at least.

After the healer is done, they all sit in silence in this corridor. Someone takes Loan to get cleaned up and change. Aaron cannot put into words the relief he feels when his daughter’s blood-soaked garment disappears from his field of vision. He can’t put into words how he feels about the gang of teenagers at his side. They saved Aurore. They saved her... and maybe they put her in danger too. But these are thoughts he will have plenty of time to explore later.

It’s still half an hour before Api joins them in the corridor, looking tired but serene. This is the longest half-hour of Aaron’s life.

When the healer appears at the intersection, Aaron gets up fast enough for butterflies to burst into his vision. It doesn’t matter, because even through them he can distinguish the raised thumb from the healer and his reassuring smile, and the metal around his chest finally relaxes.