#Prompt: Panic

[nine-one-wanton]

Prompt: Panic

Extra/Replacement Prompt in lieu of “Pole”

Rated: g | Pairing: bucktommy | for @118dailydrabble

Tommy tried to breathe as he was lowered to the rubble of the collapsing building, but his chest was too tight; each breath felt more shallow than the last.

He could breathe later.

Panic folded around him like a lover wrapping arms around him. Reaching into his too tight chest and squeezing an icy grip around his heart.

His eyes scrambled over the victim, confirming what the radio had told him. The name on the coat; the accountability tag; the helmet.

Buckley.

Buckley.

Buckley.

Panic animated his hands without conscious thought. His voice sounded disembodied to himself, giving the command to hoist the precious cargo.

Evan had to be okay.

Tommy hadn’t had a chance to tell him..

Read the collection of these prompts here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/4501327

[serickswrites]

Panicky

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

“Whumpee?” Caretaker called as they opened the door. They had hated leaving Whumpee’s side. But they had to run these errands. They couldn’t delegate. They had only been gone an hour. But that hour felt like an eternity after everything they and Whumpee had gone through. 

With Whumpee being taken. Whumpee being hurt. Whumpee being nearly dead when Caretaker found them. The agony of the whole process had affected Whumpee greatly, but it had also affected Caretaker, too. But they couldn’t tell anyone that. Couldn’t show the panic they felt every time they left Whumpee’s side. Couldn’t show the fear of losing Whumpee again show. 

Because that would hurt Whumpee. Whumpee had been hurt enough. Caretaker had made a vow they day they found Whumpee that they would never let Whumpee hurt again. 

Caretaker could feel the panic threatening to become all consuming when Whumpee replied. “I’m on the couch. Just got another movie queued up if you want to join?”

Caretaker took a few deep breaths to clear the panic, to calm their racing heart. Whumpee was here. Whumpee was safe. “I’d love to. Should I make pop corn?”

[genavere]

February Whump Prompts – 2023, DAY 8: Panic

Content Warnings: Minor Panicking, Minor Sexual Content Suggested Fandom: Fairy Tail - Natsu x Lucy - AU

Royal Trouble - Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Something was wrong. Even in his sleep, there was an itch that kept coming back to bother him. As he woke up, the first thing he noticed was hair.

Not long, soft, golden hair of his wife. Not the intoxicating strands that he would bury his face and hands into before turning her to take her mouth with his. This hair was just shorter than his, but thicker and blue.

“Oi, Happy! Off the bed!” Natsu tried to push the overly large beast towards the edge of the bed, muscles straining. Annoyed, the demon cat lifted his head up, flicked his tail, and flopped down on the mattress before rolling onto his back. To hell with it, Natsu swore. Lucy said Plue would not rub off on his cat, but it sure looked like it.

Grunting, he pushed himself up and looked around the bed for his missing wife. Did she get won over by Happy’s pitiful eyes again and let him on the bed? He was supposed to be a frightening demon beast that sent enemies running. Not to have a Pixie absolutely fawn over him and become a big baby.

“Luce?” He patted the obviously flat areas of the blankets and frowned. Taking a few sniffs of the air, he could still smell her on the air and mattress, but it was faint. Worry pulled any remnants of sleep from his muscles. Kicking the sheets off, he made his way to the bathroom, the balcony, and even the attached closet and library he had built on for her.

The bath was dry, the stars were not being gazed upon, the fireplace in the library was cold, and no piles of clothes were thrown about in the latest craze of trying on different outfits. Any lingering scents there were older than what had been in the bedroom, too.

Had an intruder come in without him realizing?

A swell of stone settled in his gut, and a cold sweat broke over his brow. No…no, there were spells in place, he had to remind himself. After the last time she had been captured from their bedroom and held hostage, no number of resources had been spared to ensure that did not occur again.

Throwing on a pair of pants, he followed where her scent was the freshest. If she were hurt or upset, no one would be spared! Gritting his teeth, he stalked down the hallway and glanced each way twice before following his nose.

Had an enemy slipped through their security? They could have lured her out with any number of things, or they could have used rose perfume to put her in a trance. When he had found out that little secret of hers, it had been both amusing and frightening.

Clenching his fist, he felt heat flare up over his skin. Pixies had too many weaknesses, unlike Demons or Dragons. Sure, shine gold or anything precious in front of a Dragon and they will do everything they can to add it to their hoard. Natsu did that with Lucy the moment he saw her. Even as children, he knew that she was someone who would impact his life.

Demons loved contracts. It did not matter what the contract was, if it had a positive outcome for them in the end, they would do whatever they could to sign it. If you had a lawyer who was a demon, he would ensure whatever was signed had their clients’ best interests because it reflects their interests, too.

It had been Lucy who had thrown the marriage contract in his face and dangled it like a juicy slab of steak to a starving man. She had willingly trapped him to her before he had the chance to entrap her.

Maybe having the gardeners get rid of all the roses on the grounds had not been in his best interests.

But where was his mischievous wife now?

The further he went into the depths of the palace, the harder his heart raged against his chest. Images of her hurt or unconscious overwhelmed his mind. He gripped his head, claws buried themselves into the pink tresses. Blood clung to the roots as he tried to rein himself back in.

If she had been taken, standing there and panicking would do no one good, he reprimanded himself. She relied on him to be strong and present! Even on nights he woke from nightmares and she sung to him. Her fingers brushing through his hair, his head resting on her chest. His arms wrapped tight around her as he let his anguish out in tears and sobs.

It was a side only she saw. And she ensured no one else knew of their secret.

Without her, he had no release, no home to strive to keep safe.

A familiar cry echoed down the hall. It was near inaudible when it reached him, but it rang like bells to him. Bare feet pressed into the stone floors and rushed in the direction of the noise. With everything he had, all the strength and speed he had worked up through the years of constant training, he made good use of it then. No harm would come to her. Not when he could prevent it!

Spring flowers and honey, the scent he knew was hers, washed over him as he threw open the swinging doors to the room her cry came from. Bright brown eyes turned and met crimson gold ones.

“N-Natsu—!” She let out a squeak. A flush of red spread over her shoulders to the tips of her pointed ears. Behind her, a flurry of flutters came from her wings.

Looking her over, he took in her blush, the state of her wings. A spoon hung just before her lips with a healthy glob of ice cream on it. No, not just ice cream, he realized. There was whipped cream, sprinkles, cherries, chocolate sauce, and even caramel all mixed together on that spoon like she had personalized the glob to hold exactly what she wanted.

A spread of the same ingredients, along with several open containers of ice cream laid out over the kitchen counter where she sat on a stool. There were signs that she had not been the cleanest when she had helped herself to her midnight snack. A brief thought of the kitchen staffs’ annoyance at coming into the mess in the morning and the report he would receive. Like hell his father would deal with the complaints.

The doors swung shut behind him. Silence filled the room as they stared at each other. His eyes began to twitch, and before he could start reprimanding her for worrying him, he watched her shove the spoon of delights in her mouth. And then tried to talk around it.

“Don’t.” He threw a hand up to stop her muffled ramblings. “You yell at me for talking with my mouth full. Swallow it.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and a familiar scent mingled with hers. He released a growl and watched her wings shudder in delight. There might be a bigger mess for the servants in the morning than just melted ice cream.

Realizing the state of his lack of clothes besides loose pants, he used that to his advantage as he moved around the counter slowly and stalked towards his prey. Even her state of dress consisted of only a thin nightgown slip. With her legs perched up on the higher bars, it gave him a clear view that there was nothing else underneath.

And here she was, alone, with a mountain of cold sweets around her.

“Lucy.” Another shudder through her wings answered his growl. He noticed a bowl on the counter that had been obscured by the tubs of ice cream before that had all the items that fell from her throwing the toppings on the spoon. “Why are you awake in the middle of the night and not in our bed?”

Wings drooped a bit, as did the spoon from her lips. A new wave of panic washed over him.

“I…had a bad dream,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “And I didn’t wanna wake you, so I went for a walk.”

All the tension in him left as he took the last steps between them and pulled her against his chest. Arms wrapped around each other tightly. One of his hands buried itself in her hair while the other rubbed her back gently, mindful of her wings.

“You should have woken me, Luce,” he muttered against the top of her head. “As your husband, I am supposed to take care of you and pummel anyone who hurts you. That includes any bad dreams.”

“What about a dream of being scolded by Erza?”

He tensed, not even wanting to think of a scenario like that. But…since she brought it up, he had to ask. “W-was that your dream?”

She giggled into his chest, and he relaxed. “No, but I had to ask, especially after our last kidnapping.”

“The one with the lightning dragon?”

She paused before nodding once. “Yeah.”

While it should not have surprised him, he had a feeling that encounter would affect her more than she would let on. Being crammed in small spaces had been a notorious punishment for Pixies due to their smaller statures. While Lucy was tall for her kind, she was still short to all others.

“Did you dream of being in that cage again?” He laid a kiss on her head. Carefully, he picked her up and adjusted so he was on the stool and she sat across his lap.

“That, and watching you being beaten again.” Teeth worried her lowered lip, and a crease wrinkled her brow. “Like before, I could do nothing to stop it.”

“Tch, of course you couldn’t.” His hand came around and lifted her head up by her chin. “Once a weaker Dragon feels threatened, he will either bow down or buck the system. That guy knew he had an upper hand, so why not take some swings?”

“Cause he hurt you!”

“So? There will be others who will try to do the same, especially when we come to be the rulers of three of the realms.”

She let out a huff of air. “Why can no one settle differences with words? Treaties and communication work! But since we married, everyone only attacks us if they are displeased of the union.”

“Not everyone can be as smart as Pixies.” He smirked at her, which earned him a smack to the chest.

“It is not due to being smart, it is a sense of accomplishment to achieve a goal by looking at the bigger picture. Wars are so costly in lives and resources, but negotiations can be done between two people, maybe even more. Add in a savvy Demon who is a lawyer, and any contracts will be gold!”

He chuckled and leaned in to breath against the shell of her ear. “Now you are speaking my language, Luce. Contracts and gold.”

Heat rose from her skin. He smirked at the power he held over her. “So, you going to tell me why there is all of,” he waved his hand over the counter of sweets, “this here? Usually, you have fruit when you wake up at night.”

Her refusal to meet his eyes gave him reason for concern. Had the staff forgotten to order her fruits? Did the wrong supplies come?

“When I came here to get some, I ended up craving something sweeter.”

“I can tell.” That earned him another smack to the chest. “Kinda proud, never thought you’d start eating like me.”

“Don’t say that!” She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. “You are such a bad influence, Natsu. I had been raised a lady, and now I am shoveling spoons full of sugar into my mouth like a deviate!”

“A pretty hot deviate.” Before she could smack him again, he caught her wrist and pressed his lips against the palm of her hand. Shudders from her wings fluttered through her body and through his own. He purred at the sensation and pressed his face into her hand. “Luce, no matter what happens, I promise you we will live a long life together.”

He glanced at her and smiled against her skin. Her eyes that held the stars in them gazed at him with such passion and love. How such a creature could have decided to marry him was beyond his ability of understanding.

“I promised you that when we married, and I won’t let some upstart take that away from us. Not now or ever. You are my wife,” he laid another kiss on her hand, “my Pixie,” another on her wrist, “and my future Queen.” He turned her hand around and kissed the back of it. “The love of my life.”

She practically melted against him, like the ice cream on the counter. Such putty in his hands, he chuckled. But then she sat up, brow furrowed. “Hey, since when had you been so smooth with your words?”

He pulled his head back and looked at her, an eyebrow arched up. “Think you were the only one punished by Erza? I still have to read those stupid romance books of hers out loud while she brushes her hair.” He looked away, looking a bit embarrassed. “Figured, I could try to use some of what I read on you.”

Arms flew around his neck in a tight hold. “You are amazing, Natsu.”

“Nah, that’s all you, Luce.”

Eyes looking over the spread of treats, he grinned. “Now, since you decided to up and leave our bed in the middle of the night, I think it is only fair you feed me.”

“F-feed you?”

He nodded, licking his lips. “Give me that sweet treat you were scarfing down earlier, and then I will give you one even better.”

Laughter burst from him as he watched her delicate points turn red again. Unable to resist the urge, he leaned forward and nibbled the closest tip with his mouth. Her entire body tensed in his arms. “And I promise, you will be beggin’ before I am finished with ya.”

Eyes met, and they shared a grin, accepting each other’s challenging looks. Oh yes, he would definitely be making her beg tonight.

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

Truth be told, was not expecting to write about this AU again so soon after the first, but this would not leave me alone all day. So here it is! Less angsty than the other stuff I have written for these prompts, and it’s not Lucy who is the Whumpee this time!

Not sure what it is about this AU that I really like, but it does drive me to write, so not complaining!

Links to AO3 | FF.net

@febuwhump | @millennial-star-gazer

[puppetmaster13u]

You know what I need more of? The Batkids completely fucking with the Justice League and their rogues and coming up with stories for their existence.

Like I am talking about the creation of demigods sort of stories, like Loki sort of stories.

Duke has convinced all of Gotham that he's the Bat Signal brought to life and that's why he's never seen at night and why the signal literally doesn't work during the day. He's waiting giddily for the story to spread outside of the city.

The batkids have convinced half the League that Nightwing is quite literally Batman's lovechild with Justice. Hey, Constantine had a one night stand with the manifestation of a city and they've dealt with gods before, so surely it's not that surprising? Right???

I need more of the Batkids being little shits, of Alfred the-greatest-enabler Pennyworth backing them up and Bat(the-biggest-troll)man to never confirm the stories, but he doesn't deny them either.

[emacrow]

Tim whom is still banned from caffeine went into looking into other ways to get caffeine.

He went into anonymous source from someone name KingTuck4ever who talk about a energy drink that kept him up for weeks during a critical time of his life and Tim was at this point of desperate to spend any time of money he got.

Later that night, he received 6 very large Dark green boxes with a DP logo on it filled with Lightening Green tall soda cans with the name Ecto-Spark!, ingredients tags on the back, made with organic vegan products, DO NOT NEAR MEAT RELATED PRODUCTS, guaranteed to keep you caffeine deprived souls awake and alive enough to enjoy a night afterlife party! Or your money back.

Tim at the point didn't read the back as he pop open the top, smelling a strong scent of caffeine, carbonated bubble and a taste of lemon lime mixed with a tang flavor that had his mouth drowning nearly in drool.

He took only one experimental sip, before his eyes widen instantly and immediately began chugging the soda can for all the liquid caffeine it had inside. This was 1000 times better then Death Coffee Cup from his favorite Cafe that he was still banned from.

It felt like his whole body got electrified with energy and feel like he can run a whole 4 week marathon without breaking a sweat. This drink was like tasting nirvana after a week of being in a Gobi desert for his fucking soul.

.....

.....

.....

Bruce can never know about this. He can't tell anyone about this drink. Not Damian, Not dick, not step, maybe Jason, but Cass can kept a secret since she knew body language. He might possibly go rogue and kill Bruce himself if Bruce tried to take this from him.

Meanwhile Tucker was amazed of the total amount of money he received from the anonymous Caffine obsessed ghost. Usually he ended up receiving old relics, Egyptian related artifacts, gold coins, etc but this is a first he got actually modern day money.

Poor dude must've been recently form a core to spend that much money. Good thing he had send extra since he know how crazy those caffine-obsessed ghosts can be over the new drink he made specifically for himself, Sam and Danny but it's nice to have extra cash for new tech making. Especially since Danny became high king of the ghost zone when he became 20 year old, and the amount of paper works that had been left for dust collecting could filled a planet to the very brim.

Took him, Sam, Danny, Ghost writer and Techno 5 months to fully turn at least 26% of sacrifical gifts from ritual, contracts, conquests, complains from territorial ghosts about humans taking their land/house/property/or about their murder, help hundreds of ghosts stuck in their personal hell of a limbo of their own death, guy name Constantine whom was rapidly becoming a pain in Tucker's ass especially when he got one contract form his former previous life about this guy.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC summoning

So a classic staple of this crossover is some poor schmuck trying to summon Pariah and getting Danny

How this usually goes is Danny either flexes on them or nopes out of there

So in Hellblazer one of the things you want to summon a powerful otherworldly entity is not only their ritual, but their name. The ritual brings them there, the name is used as part of the binding that provides a summoner protection against the thing they just summoned

So just a thought

Danny has that happen a couple times, he’s summoned and he just nopes out of there and either assumes it’s just a halfa thing or just doesn’t notice it’s weird

So imagine the first time someone actually properly summons him

Be it Zatana or John who have or course heard about the change in management and have properly bound the spirit they’ve summoned. Hell maybe it’s someone like Felix Faust and he’s been summoned by a villain

Danny just peace signs and then immediately flies right into an invisible wall and nearly breaks his nose

[unboundprompts]

If you’re still doing request, is it OK if you either

Describe writing a panic attack?

Or

Describe someone who has gray eyes?

-> a link for gray eye descriptions: x

How to Write a Panic Attack

Physical Symptoms of a Panic Attack:

pounding or racing heart

sweating

chills

trembling

difficulty breathing

weakness or dizziness

tingly or numb hands

chest pain

stomach pain or nausea

feeling lightheaded

tense muscles

dry mouth

constriction in the chest

feeling like they're being choked

Other Symptoms:

heightened vigilance for danger and physical symptoms

anxious and irrational thinking

a strong feeling of dread, danger or foreboding

fear of going mad, losing control, or dying

feelings of unreality and detachment from the environment

Triggers for a Panic Attack:

something unexpected (ex: a phone call)

a reminder (objects, smells, locations, specific phrases, etc. that can be tied back to a traumatic experience)

stress (from work, a relationship, family, etc. that has been building up)

silence (ex: being alone in a quiet room. The silence can amplify a sense of isolation)

flashbacks (a trigger that causes the person to flash back to a traumatic memory)

out of nowhere (sometimes panic attacks just get triggered by seemingly nothing)

Writing Prompts:

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He couldn't breathe. Oh God, he couldn't breathe and he was going to die.

She knew the panic was building up, but it crashed over her like a tsunami that swept her off her feet. The pull threatened to pull her out to sea and it was all-consuming.

They felt the panic begin to wrap its arms around them like a shadow.

"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"

"Don't touch me-- don't touch me!"

Her mind was running at a million miles a second but she couldn't pinpoint a single thought.

"It's okay. You're safe."

An icy hand had reached through their ribcage and was squeezing their heart. They couldn't breathe and they didn't know what to do to regain their breath.

"My chest hurts. It hurts."

"I can't!"

They were a crumpled heap, stowed away in the corner as tears streamed down their face.

She felt like she was on a boat out at sea, the room swaying and adding to the nausea that was washing over her.

He felt like he was having a heart attack.

They gasped for air but each breath felt shallower than the last.

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, beating like a panicked drum to the rhythm of her fear.

He felt like he was standing on the edge of a building.

They couldn't move. It was like someone was holding down their limbs, the panic rendering them utterly frozen.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!

[yourwakingnightmares]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric Additional Tags: Febuwhump 2023, Febuwhump 2023 Day 8, prompt: panic, Violence, Hospitalization, Serious Injuries Series: Part 11 of WakingNightmares' Febuwhump 2023 Summary:

It was day three of no check-in, when Roy got the call from Alphonse in New Optain.

Colonel? Brother’s been hurt, and… I… I think you should come. How quick can you get here?

The answer was, pretty damn fast. The office had been a flurry of activity, Havoc running to get train tickets, Hawkeye notifying the higher-ups of their departure, and Roy grabbing their go-bags. Less than an hour and a half after getting the call, they’d been on the train, going over the case file as they rode the rails into the night.

[hypewinter]

I've had a brainworm for a few days now so here me out.

After an accidental reveal gone wrong, Danny is forced to flee the country with both his parents and the giw after him. While he's trying to find some place internationally to settle down, he comes across a secluded complex.

Said complex happens to have access to an ectoplasm run off which Danny is in desperate need of. Though it has been corrupted by whatever the people of the complex have been doing to it, that's no problem for Danny as he can easily purify the portion he takes in to survive.

Deciding this is the perfect place to live off the grid, Danny sets to work figuring out how to blend in. It turns out that's the easy part. With his temporary stint as a ninja, his training with his black belt mom, and his general ghost physiology, he fits in pretty well.

He fits in so well in fact that he is told he'll be training someone one of the head bosses has their eye on. A kid his age.

Basically what follows is Danny accidentally ruining Talia's plans for Jason by unconsciously purifying his corruption and just talking him through his emotions. When Jason gets back to Gotham, he returns without a clouded mentally and realizes just how much Bruce went through after his death.

Instead of unleashing his complicated plan, he quietly takes over the underworld. He loves his father but also knows there are situations in Gotham that require a more firm hand. Jason decides to be a firm hand in his dad's place.

(I imagine he is only revealed on accident yet his reunion with his family is just as dramatic as Under the Red Hood. Tbh it probably has something to do with the joker suddenly going missing.)

Meanwhile back at the League of Assassins, Talia is impressed by Jason's training and is under the impression that his failure in Gotham is due to him getting cold feet at the last second so she puts Danny in charge of Damian's training.

Danny this time takes a more conscious role in ruining the league's brainwashing by challenging Damian's beliefs and teaching him he should use his weapons to protect, not to harm. By the time Damian gets to Wayne Manor, there is significantly less deprogramming that needs to be done.

[tourettesdog]

DPxDC prompt where Danny has been going by Nightingale for awhile now, but he has yet to legally change his name. On paper he's still a Fenton, and after what his parents did to him he struggles to see it still attached to his name.

He's been living in Gotham for a while now. He's tried laying low, leaving his past behind-- still he can't help but get involved when shit hits the fan. He's on the bats' radar quicker than he'd have liked, and they deduce his identity quicker than he'd have expected.

When he's confronted by Batman, the man addresses him as Fenton. He lays down his past-- what he knows of it, at least-- and all of the weaponry and questionable science attached to that name.

Danny's not sure what he expected from his inevitable interrogation with the big bat, but a panic attack wasn't it.

[justbreakonme]

Whumper always doing something sweet or soft before torturing the Whumpee, like brushing the hair out of their face or kissing their cheek.

It’s too small of a detail to mention or even remember during the rescue and the first few days of settling in with Caretaker.

But that means both Whumpee and Caretaker are completely blindsided by the intense flashback/panic attack that small, unassuming gesture caused.

[jordanstrophe]

Obsessed with the scenario of whumpee being told news (whumper's alive, escaped, ect) as their response is a calm "Okay," before quickly exiting the room.

Caretaker follows them, knowing despite their demeanor, they didn't take the news well. It didn't take long to find whumpee had only made it ten yards and was clinging to the wall in a panic attack.

Caretaker skids across the floor on their knees and scoops them up, quickly carrying them to a quiet room to calm down.  

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 136

 There is a small child floating in the Watchtower. 

They’re visibly not human, a too-big cloak of purple (what shade no one knows, all they can describe about the cloak is purple, nothing else) hanging from them as big Lazarus-green eyes glare down in something of a pout. The child huffs, blowing white hair out of their face despite it shimmering and shifting on its own already. 

How the child, inhuman or not, found their way into the Watchtower- without setting off an alarm no less- is a concern. A very large concern, but it can wait because there is a four-year old (if the child is the equivalent of a human child that is) at oldest staring down at them. 

 “Do you know where the speedsters are?” the child piped up after an awkward stare-down, none of the league members present quite sure what to do in this situation. It was probably around time to call Batman… or they could call Flash instead. 

[whumpdreaming]

I love the moment when someone new to the situation sees Whumpee, covered in blood/scars/fresh wounds/bruises, and Whumpee takes their concerned and slightly bewildered stare as judgement --- they're embarrassed to be in this vulnerable position, and they cringe under the gaze. Especially if it's someone who knew Whumpee before the whumpening and is like.. what?

[m1d-45]

hourglass

summary: he's running very late for a very important date !

word count: ~1k

-> warnings: none :3

-> gn reader (you/yours) ++ takes place pre-fontaine !

taglist: @samarill || @sarienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

lyney’s schedule was not one with wide margins. every minute was accounted for, dedicated to an explicit purpose. his shows (preparing, checking the stage, checking props, checking the stage again—sorry, lynette) took a large portion of his time, but there was also his family (checking on freminet, checking on lynette, checking on the rest of the House, checking on freminet again—are you sure you’re alright?) and missions from father (steal this, leave that, don’t be heard, don’t be seen).

honestly, he barely had time to breathe most days. and that was fine! he rarely knew what to do without some problem to fix or task to complete. it was an unfamiliar feeling, and so he often took on extra work whenever he could. as such, he’d developed a bit of a knack for all the odd jobs you could think of: flower arrangements, finding lost things, getting stains out of clothes, cooking, any and everything.

he’d never had a problem with this. his life was crowded, but straightforward. he knew the answer to every problem, and if he didn’t, he knew who did.

this was, of course, before you entered the picture. now, the tasks he sought out felt too heavy to carry. yes, he wanted to help his family, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was only so many times he could show up late before you’d stop trying to invite him places, and that was the last thing he wanted.

you weren’t fatui, but you didn’t mind that he was and father had given him clearance so long as he was “responsible with his loyalties,” which was entirely achievable! what showman couldn’t juggle?

…him, apparently. because between helping lynette find her tea (someone had moved it) and keeping the local wildlife safe from foltz, he’d lost track of time. he still wasn’t used to a block of free time in his schedule, automatically trying to fill it before he could remember that there was a reason for it. and now, he was rushing through the streets of fontaine, fixing his cape as he all but ran.

you were sat outside the cafe in the same chair as usual, and he slows to a regular pace as he approaches to gather what remained of his appearance. you were reading a book, and he felt both proud that you hadn’t forced yourself to sit there plainly and also ashamed of the fact that it was his fault. regardless, he cleared his throat and called your name, sitting across from you and meeting your smile with his own.

your book was a mystery novel, one he easily enough got you talking about with a bit of prompting. judging by the place your bookmark held, you were a good ways through it, likely just before the reveal. just from your summary, he could easily guess the culprit, but what was the point in ruining your fun?

“so, who do you think it is?”

there were few things lyney liked more than seeing the people he cared for happy and in their element. you got to share your theories and he could listen to your voice out of all the bustle in the city, ordering ile flottante to have an excuse to keep quiet. your own tea was growing cold, but he could always get you another. would picking up the tab make up for his tardiness? it probably shouldn’t.

around halfway through your defense of the butler—cleared by his alibi, but still deemed suspicious by the bartender—you stopped, looking somewhere over his shoulder. he didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary..

your hand rose to tap at your face, just at the corner of your lip. “you’ve got icing on you, by the way.”

ah. well, wasn’t that the perfect topping to his evening?

he grabbed a napkin and quickly wiped across the offending cheek, but you shook your head. “no, the other one.”

at least you were smiling? that made his mistake worth it. he was usually a tidy eater—but he also usually didn’t order flottante, since it was usually too sweet for his liking. today, he’d decided to give it a try, and look where that had gotten him…

he told you as such, and you laughed. he liked hearing you laugh. laughter meant happiness, and happiness meant a job well done. maybe he should get it more often?

“are you doing this intentionally?”

he folded the napkin twice, eyes on you. “doing what intentionally?”

“you missed it twice.” oh, archons- “here, just sit still.”

he didn’t have much time to protest before you were taking your napkin in hand, carefully swiping it an inch or so to the side from where he’d guessed. like him, you folded the mess inside, but unlike him you actually had something on yours, a pale gold in the afternoon light. the whole interaction had lasted maybe a second or two, but it stuck in his head for far longer.

you put a lot of trust into him, more than he knew what to do with. people were not typically fond of the fatui, and even less fond of the magician who could snatch their wallets before they could blink (nevermind that he’d had to learn that skill to survive). it was strange that he could make the same mistake over and over and your faith that he would show never wavered.

not that he ever wanted to give you a reason to. he always kept his promises to those he loved.

[kades-whump-stuff]

recovering Whumpee prompts

Whumpee who NEEDS to see everything around them. They will not let anyone, even Caretaker, walk behind them, they sit or stand with their back to a wall if possible. They're always looking behind them, constantly expecting Whumper there, even if it's just subconsciously.

Whumpee who makes themself as small as possible. They know their posture is taking a hit, but they draw in all of their limbs and hunch over in an attempt to be as small as possible. They're most comfortable this way.

Whumpee who has periods of time where they lose speech - partially or totally. During these, if they want or need something, they find it difficult or impossible to ask for it, and god forbid someone ask them about Whumper.

Whumpee who dissociates - their eyes grow unfocused at times and they always look confused or lost. They mindlessly follow Caretaker wherever they go, even when they're completely out of it.

Whumpee who has lost touch with their own self and feelings, and who notices that their breathing and heartbeat are speeding up. They notice their symptoms of having, say, a panic attack, too late to stop the effects.

Whumpee who has to be their own caretaker, whether that means stitching up their own wounds while biting on their wallet, or forcing themself up and out of bed in the morning.