#Set Up For Failure

[blackseafoam]

“set up for failure”

[brucewaynehater101]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPT #3

Set up for failure, fingerprints, "I warned you"

Brief synopsis: Tim warns Damian. Damian doesn't heed the advice.

“You're telling me that Bruce assigned you this case?” There's a note of apprehension in Tim's voice as his arctic eyes scrutinize his younger brother. Damian scoffs.

“What? Jealous that Father trusts me more than you, Drake?”

“That's not-” Tim's teeth grind together as he tries to halt his automatic response. “Look. Can you just tell me if anyone else knows about this?”

Damian rolls his eyes. “Perhaps you would need assistance with such a meager inquiry, but Father trusts my ability to handle it with ease.”

“So the answer is no.”

Instead of dignifying that with a response, the kid twists on his heel and returns with his perusal of the batcomputer. He needs to analyze the fingerprint and he does not have time to listen to his older brother's whims. Tim doesn't take the hint.

“If you won't let me in on the case, can you at least inform one other person? As long as it's not Bruce, can you please talk to someone about this?”

Emerald eyes peer over Damian's shoulder as he assesses the older man. Evidently not finding what he was searching for, he continues to ignore Tim.

“Please, Damian.”

With a scowl, the kid finally flips around again. “Why are you so insistent, Drake?”

Tim bites his lip hard enough for the skin to turn white. He avoids the other's stare. “Bruce has a habit of utilizing missions, in particular secret ones, to further his own agenda at the jeopardy of whomever he assigned it to.”

An indignant sneer paints the younger's face at the insult hurled towards their mentor. “You may be an unworthy imposter who doubts Father, but I won't. This is why you were stripped of the title that doesn't fit you.”

With that, Damian proceeds to ignore Tim again. Anger thrums within the older brother, but he knows there is nothing he can do to change the other's mind. If there's anything that Damian is, it's a dedicated but stubborn kid.

Part of Tim, the often buried protective instincts he feels for his baby brother, wants to solve the issue for Damian. He wants to drag Dick into this mess or Jason or Cass or even Duke. His fingers itch with the need to reach out to Oracle and double check whether she sanctions it. He could subtly manipulate the situation so Damian never falls to harm and never learns just what Bruce had in store for him.

There's so much Tim could do, but he won't. He shouldn't and he's been working on being better. He has a habit of controlling and managing other people's lives for them. He needs to allow his loved ones to make their own decisions, even if he knows they will regret it. They deserve that respect. Gods know Steph shouldn’t have had to scream it so many times for it to finally sink into Tim's thick skull.

The visceral obligation to fix this claws at walls of his ribs and it rakes at his intestines, but he's getting better at disregarding it.

It will burn Damian and destroy his trust in Bruce, but the older brother will let it happen. For once, Bruce will reap the direct consequences of his actions without Tim dulling or softening their effects.

He'll be there in the aftermath, and he'll be watching in the meantime. If it appears to be going to a point of no return, if Damian is in serious danger, then Tim will stop it. He will earn the kid's ire for that, but Damian's safety is paramount. Otherwise, it will run its course and prove to be a harsh lesson for the kid.

Tim heaves a sigh as his gaze falls away from the younger one. His shoulders droop with a weariness uncharacteristic of Red Robin.

Damian will make his own decisions. Tim will respect that.

~~~

Damian's hands shake both in fury and hurt. He raises his emerald eyes to glare at Drake.

The older’s expression isn't gloating or smug. It's defeated. He peers down at his kid brother with a dejected frown.

Damian drops his gaze to his lap as he tries to clench his fists. “Why?”

An exhale leaves Tim as he shakes his head. “He does this, Dames. I…” The older brother tries to swallow around the tightening in his throat. Brief flashes of a little black box and screaming matches on rooftops come to mind. “I could explain his reasons, but I'm tired. I'm so tired.”

The shaking of Damian's hands increases to his arms and then to his shoulders. His whole form trembles as his lower lip begins to wobble.

Tim moves until he's perched on the bed next to Damian. He allows their shoulders to touch as a subtle form of comfort. When he hears a little sniffle, Tim can't help but to close his own eyes.

The kid’s voice is nearly a whisper and is cracking with emotion. “You knew.”

The older brother could try to defend himself and state that he didn't truly know. He had a hunch. He worried. He suspected. He wasn't sure.

Still, there wasn't accusation in Damian's tone. Just resignation, hopelessness, and the realization that what's happened to him has happened before.

“Yeah.”

The younger brother nods at the confirmation and leans into the older one. Tim wraps an arm around his shoulder.

Neither acknowledge the tears streaming down the other’s face.

[oxideblack]

[small-sinclair]

Her Ruby Plains

Whumptober Day 3 and 4: Set Up for Failure and Hallucinatons 

Corrupted!Gambit x sick!reader  

Kinda prof-read. Kinda not. Let me know with you want more Corrupted!Gambit :3

“I warned you” and “You’re still alive in my head”. 

The dark purple smoke that filled Gambit’s lungs and opened a flood gate to his powers. He could feel the energy in the room and felt every type of potential each objected held. He could easily take down the light, take down this whole town with a snap of a finger! Remy just wanted to watch the world burn with one card at a time. Everything was a pawn in his chess game. He could take the Queen with just a single move from a pawn. Even if he didn’t win, the cards are always in his favor. A life lesson he learned when his powers went down the drain and spiraled out of control.  

Everything he touched, whether it be cards or exploding a charge with a car battery, he didn’t care. He’ll have all of Louisiana at his feet and in the palm of his hand. It’ll teach everyone—teach them not to mess with what’s his. He didn’t care how he made it there as long as he made sure he made a statement. His dark brown jacket worn and battered, cards be damned, and a greedy glint in his eyes was all he had to offer as he looked over the town burning below. He made this beautiful mess, this bright and lovely messed. 

Then he thought of your smile and how you would beam when he came to your little cottage on the outskirts of the swamp, just near the riverbed. There, his guard would fall and allowed your love to wrap him like a blanket. If only he could put your light into a bottle, he would take you wherever his darkness went. Looking at you with the brightness of the moon over the waters and marsh filled him with unspeakable thoughts of care and love. He didn’t love you like a partner; he loved more like a divine being. If you allowed him, the Cajun would build you and alter in the hidden parts of the swamp.  

With a twirl of his boe staff, he turned his back to the flames and headed towards your house, his home and world. As he walked, he scooped up the CVS bag of medicine. Before he burned everything down, you called him, slurring your words as you told him to get you some medicine. So, that delayed the firework show for thirty minutes because he couldn’t decide which one you needed and had to get help from someone to help. Out of kindness, he spared the CVS and the employees—just to show good on his word, he personally made sure none of his powers went to the corner of happy and healthy.  

He lit a ciggaret as he walked the path towards your home. With every step, his pace quickened until he found himself running. Inside him, something was building up that called for him to scream out in anger. Where this feeling came from was beyond him— 

“I warned ya that you’ll be too stressed over me,” he heard your voice say, replying a memory from a few days ago just as the sickness was starting. “You’ll get a headache one of these day, Gam-bees.”  

 He took his staff and charged it until it was burning a bright purple and red. He launched himself and used the charge to get him over most of the marsh. His shadow cast by the moonlight over the murky waters below. He could see all of Louisiana’s ruby plains and her beauty from this high up, and he couldn’t help be feel amazed how he could see it like this, see her in everything there was to offer. She would belong to him; she will belong to him...Louisiana waters and all.  

He landed lightly on his feet on the path leading up to your cottage. He never understood why you wanted a stone cottage out in the middle of nowhere, but he understood the honesty that came with it and the alone time. He just wished you would come to the town he's in and to the city lights, but that's not your speed. It never was your speed.

Gambit came up the steps of the wooden porch and went inside his trench coat for the key you gave him, which had a picture of 9 of Clubs on it. He takes the mail out of the mail flap on the side of the door and came into the house. He wiped his feet before heading to the back of the house to your room. As he walks pass the kitchen, he takes his coat off and hangs it on the back of a chair, gets a glass of water, and an empty bowl with a rag. If your fever hasn’t broken yet, he’ll have to help you.  

“Cher? You alive?” He called out before he came into your room. “I gotcha some medicine an’ water. Figured you...” his voice trailed when he entered your room until he was speechless. His red on black eyes filled with a glint of sadness as he looked over your shivering form. You looked so weak in his eyes, so frail and gone too far where he couldn’t follow. He didn’t turn on the lights as he entered your room. “Mon dieu, cher,” he whispers, setting the stuff on the nightstand. He place the back of his hand against your forehead. “Darlin’, you’re burnin’ faster than a gator on a spick.”  

You leaned into his cool touch, whimpering slightly. “Heya,” you managed to say, but your voice was so tired and frail that it hurt you.  

He sat close to you and brushed your sweaty hair back. “Rest, sunshine. Ya need t’get better for me, yeah?” His accent was thick and low as he spoke to you. He felt like he was telling you a secret. “Gambit brought ya some medicine an’ water. Can you sit up, cher?” He guided you to a sitting position and held you in close then resting your back against the wooden frame. “There ya are; good, very good.”  

“It hurts,” you whispered as his hand caressed your cheek. “Bones hurt.”  

“I know, I know,” he whispers. “But I’m here, mon cher. Gambit ain’t leavin’ ya tonight.” His hand left your skin and dug through the CVS bag then pulled out dark green medicine. “The lady said dis should help. Taste like shit but it works.”  

He opened the bottle and poured it in the little measuring cup. Gambit brought it up towards your lips and helped you take it. He kissed your forehead gently as a ‘thank you’ and put it aside to take the glass of water. “Slow sips, sunshine,” he whispers, guiding your hand up to your lips. “You’re doing so well, mon ami. Just need to take it slow.” He moved the glass away then kissed your forehead once more. “I warned ya ‘bout going outside without a jacket. Gets cold out here.”  

His lower hand guided you back into the bed, letting you rest under your blankets and stuffed animals.  

“...alive in my head...”  

“What’s that, darlin’?” He leaned his head down closer to you. “Gambit didn’t quite hear you.”  

“You’re still alive in my head,” you repeated. “Not gone or fighting...just being alive in my mind is enough.”  

“Sugar, I’m alive,” he reassured, letting a nervous laugh escape. “Nothin’ killed me yet.”  

“You’re really here?” His heart broke as your hand held his cheek. “Promise? No more fighting or nothing?”  

He wanted to tell you the truth, but there was this desperate look in your eyes that called him to stop, that called for peace. Gambit lets out a deep breath and nods, pushing strains of hair away from your eyes. “Yeah,” he answers. “I’m still alive and going good. Gambit promises, Cherie .” There’s honor among thieves and the honor of keeping their sunshine bright with hope. Every thief knows this, well, every good thief.  “I swear it.”  

He stayed near, sitting close to watch over you. His eyes glowed in the darkness as if it was beckoning any type of misfortune to enter your home while you rest. Born into nothing but has something to call home...that's who Remy was. Compared to your ghosts and to his, his wealth to your simpleness, your bright smile with daisy rings around your body to his poison ivy and thrones. If he had to protect your from himself, he'll do it all for you.

Everything was for you.

Ruby fields of Louisiana will belong to him one day soon, but he’ll pause that adventure for you. He’ll live a lie that your sick mind needs him to live. If you need him to be an X-Men and need him to be better than the villains, he’ll do that. If it makes you better and get over your sickness, then he’ll do it until the light leaves your eyes. Once you're gone, lungs and all, he'll rage like nothing has before. He loved you too much to admit it, and it filled his lungs with swamp water and leeches.

As you slept into the night, he found a chair and came close to your bed, holding your hand the whole night. He would sleep now and then, nodding off into the abyss, but jerked awake when you started coughing all too loud and all too long.

"I'm here," he promises, smoothing your hair every time, comforting you the same why you would. "I'm right here."

"Still alive?"

"Breathin' as if it's nothin'," he answers. He'll kiss your forehead, saying, "Go back to sleep, darlin'. Gambit ain't leavin'."

"Promise?"

"With all my cards and scars, sugar." Let you have a space in his mind. He'll let you dance freely and openly. Just say when and he'll open like a coffin in the middle of the highway: fast, loud, and eager. "With all my cards."

[liamket]

Day 3 - Set up for Failure

Character(s): Legend and (in part) Time (LU)

Words: 936

Summary: Legend knows how the old man ended, or at least in his timeline

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Warnings: mentioned Character Death, nothing graphic

-

When they ended in what appeared to be Time’s era, something felt weird.

“Is this yer Hyrule field?” Twilight asked, already noticing the expression in the old man’s face.

“Yes… Wait, no? It looks the same, but very different at the same time” he commented with a frown “Some trees look a lot younger, and the place too…”

Twilight matched with a frown of his own “Huh, weird”

Around the group murmurs were heard of where to go. When they were already deciding for the best option the feeling of pulling coming from a portal called for them.

“Weird indeed” Wind agreed with Twilight’s comment, already grabbing Warriors’ scarf to walk through the portal.

It was until they all went through it that they noticed there was an empty space.

-

There have been stories of a boy who tried to stop the man that caused the downfall of Hyrule. A kid who, with a fairy by his side and the legendary sword, went to a fight where he only met his demise.

This story is one that Legend knows from memory, his uncle always retelling it to him.

That’s also how he knows from the start who the old man is.

He wasn’t sure how, but it was obvious that Time was the same kid of the legend, just a little taller and grown up.

He tried to not think about it too deep, maybe it was really just a legend and there was no child.

He always though that, until he was given wrong.

They arrived at what looked like Time’s era, but there was something that definitely made the difference. The magic around the place was slightly damaged.

There’s always some trace of magic, and here it was a lot weaker than the one he always feels when they are going through Hyrule Field. The thing that worried him the most is the hint of darkness that plagued it almost in every corner.

Legend seems to have been separated from the group, not being able to see any sign of them close to his position. The only thing that was the closest to him was–

A boy. Blond, green clothes and a blue fairy coming with him.

Maybe he stared a little too much, because the kid noticed and came running towards him.

The sound of bells came together with the Fairy’s voice “We haven’t never seen you before! And we know everyone in the kingdom. Are you new?” The kid–Link, his name was Link– looked at him. Two blue eyes full of wonder and curiosity. If this was the old man, he obviously could sense all his magic arsenal.

Legend tried to come with a quick and reasonable response “Yeah, I came here after hearing about a kingdom full of life, wanted to explore and see what it can offer”

The kid frowned–And oh how it looked almost the same way that the old man usually does– and cleared his throat “There’s lots of cool things, just stay inside Castletown for today, you can explore all you want later”

There was something in his voice that didn’t match with how he looked. Raw and obviously rarely used, he understands now why the fairy was the first one to talk.

Then he noticed, the pommel of a dark purple in the kid’s back. He was going towards Ganon.

“I will take it in count” A pause, he needs to be careful how will he word this “And why is it that I’ll need to wait?”

The fairy was ready with an answer “In the actual times it’s not too safe wandering around, not after some attacks in the castle, but we’re taking care of it! Right, Link?” After that, the kid nodded.

The kid. The one who has the weight of the entire kingdom on his shoulders.

The one that he knows how will end up.

“I understand. Then I should get going, I will not stop the two of you anymore” He started making his way towards the gates, at least from here he could see in which direction to go.

Before he could go too far, Legend grabbed all his courage to speak again “Be careful and try your best, alright? I trust that I will be able to see you again” He never looked back to see the kid’s expression.

When he was close to the gates, the familiar pull of the portal made presence.

“So, you only needed me to give him some words? Cool” If she heard him, there was no signal to make it known.

He knows how the story ends, there was nothing that he could do even if he wanted to.

-

Centuries after, an old soul follows this one kid that decided to grab it’s old weapon. It saw how it finished the work it started, putting again the weapon on it’s place.

The soul decided to keep company this kid, witnessing more and more incredible adventures.

When it met the others it was delighted. Other cool people, who also went through big adventures and came victorious, it was fantastic!

If the young one stared at its direction every now and then, it didn’t care.

There was another one with its special kid, who seemed to come after all the pink-kid’s adventures. It also started following this fairy boy, his magic being like a warm comfort.

It should have seen it coming, Link should have known that it was set in stone for him to end in this state.

At least he can keep his promise, even if is only one sided.

[whump-me]

Whumptober 2024 Day 3: Set Up for Failure

He crept through enemy headquarters, trying to stop his hands from shaking. For some reason, the boss thought he was qualified for this mission—him! He wouldn’t be afraid. He would make the boss proud.

He turned a corner, following the directions he had memorized—and found himself staring into the eyes of the enemy commander himself.

He jumped back with a squeak. Quickly, he pulled his gun and raised it in trembling hands.

The commander chuckled. “There’s no need for that. The fighting is done with now. Your boss and I made a deal—and you were the payment.”

[wolfeyedwitch]

Set Up For Failure

Bailey and their no good, very bad day month year

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus

@pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct

@sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump @heart4brains

@myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday

@extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff

@whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey

@emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

[secret-gallavich]

Whumptober Day Three: Set Up For Failure

Being born a Milkovich was a death sentence. 

Mickey used to be eager to go to school because it meant getting out of that fucking house. It meant he could be in a warm classroom and have someone read books to him. 

It meant the teacher taking one look at him and his dirty clothes and grimacing when they read his surname. 

Milkovich. 

A name that sparked fear and annoyance in people. 

A name that made people give up on him immediately and create a wide berth around him. 

A name that sounds nice when someone you love says it.

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 3 - Set up for failure

ESH AU LET'S GOOO

title: confinement

fandom: empires smp

cw: blood and injury

~

Jimmy bites his lip, sucks in a breath, then sidles into the vault.

It’s a tight squeeze—the Jingler had only opened the vault’s door the tiniest amount, and Jimmy hadn’t been brave enough to ask for him to open it any more. The pin holding his fishnet cape on almost pops free, and his mask gets stuck for a moment, but he manages to make it through and release his breath.

Behind the vault isn’t anything that he expects.

Behind the vault is a room that’s mostly empty, but for a pile of cardboard boxes and an old rocking chair. It looks more like a mostly-emptied storage unit than an actually vault; strange, for such a high-security building.

“What—what am I looking for?” he whispers into the walkie-talkie that the Jingler had given him.

A crackling voice speaks back to him. “Notebook.”

Jimmy glances around. His eyes land on the boxes in the corner and he heads toward them, digging through the boxes.

One of them has a worn yellow notebook, which he grabs, then heads back to the vault door.

The Jingler is waiting on the other side, hand outstretched. “Pass it through, Solidarity.”

“The Codfather,” Jimmy corrects, shoving his arm through the tiny gap. The Jingler takes the notebook, flips through a couple of pages.

“Yep,” he nods shortly. “Thanks.”

Then he turns on his heel and leaves.

“Hey—hey, wait—”

As if by some stroke of bad luck (which, to be fair, Jimmy's used to), the door slams shut.

Come on.

Jimmy pounds on the inside of the door. “Wait! Let me out!” After no response, he frantically fumbles with the walkie-talkie. “Let me out! The door closed!”

“Hmm. We've been here too long.”

“Wh—?”

“But I'll call you an escort.”

Jimmy doesn't have time to ask what that means before sirens start blaring, the lights in the vault flashing red.

The walkie-talkie pops and fizzes out in his hand.

Jimmy groans, drops to sit on the ground and wait it out, abandoning the vault’s door. It won’t be long before this place is swarming with cops, and he’ll be the only person for them to find.

He really ought to get a frequent flier card for prison.

-

“Hope you like the new digs, Solidarity,” the prison warden says loudly, shoving Jimmy into a cell that seems more secure than normal. “We've been working on a specially-reinforced one, just for you.”

“It's the Codfather, now,” Jimmy tries.

“You've made a lot of people angry,” the warden continues, as if he hadn’t spoken. He locks the cell, grins at him through the barred window of the heavy door. “Some of the boys might come through to see you.”

“Oh. Oh, that's . . . great,” Jimmy says helplessly. “Maybe they could just . . . not?”

The warden doesn't dignify that with a response. He stalks away, leaving Jimmy alone in the cell.

Jimmy leans against the wall, slides down to the floor. He fidgets with the stiff navy jumpsuit they've given him, not quite long enough in the leg, then adjusts his Codfather mask.

This is going to be just wonderful. It’s not even been a month since he was last in this prison (they’d started building this very reinforced cell while he was here, that time), and he’d been hoping to avoid it for a little while longer.

Life always sucks significantly worse in prison.

He isn’t exactly separated from the other prisoners, but he isn’t exactly with them, either. His cell (reinforced and all) is in the same hall as the other cells. The difference between Jimmy and the others is that he’s in solitary confinement lite—he doesn’t get to leave for meals or exercise time, and his cell comes with a shower and a toilet in the corner. He isn’t meant to leave at any time.

The heavy metal door that never seems to be unlocked has a window at eye level, bars set into it a couple inches apart. There’s a little slot below it, just wide enough for a food tray. That window means that he can still interact with the other prisoners, unfortunately—or, rather, they can interact with him.

So the first day is a constant barrage of verbal abuse.

See, Jimmy may be a villain now, but he does his best to be kind about it. After all, none of this is his fault, not really. He can’t control his powers. He’s a villain because it’s convenient, not because he actually wants to be evil.

But everybody and their dog has a cousin’s friend who was injured by Solidarity’s powers, and Jimmy has to be yelled at about it.

“When they let you out of your little safehouse, I’ve got a couple friends waiting for you,” a big guy warns, his thick fingers wrapped around the bars of the window. “You won’t be able to walk when they’re done with you.”

“Creative,” Jimmy mutters.

“My mom lost her kneecap,” a redhead leers, spit flying from his cracked lips. “I think I oughta deliver her one of yours.”

That doesn’t sound very nice.

“My brother can’t eat tortilla chips anymore. I’ll spit in all your food.”

“Did you know I used to have two eyes? Wonder what you’d look like with zero.”

“I will break every one of your fingers and toes.”

And on and on and on.

It’s getting kind of boring, honestly. Every time he ends up in prison, he’s under fire from more and more prisoners, many with no real reason. He’s the cause that they unite over, because everybody has been inconvenienced by Solidarity in some way. They aren’t made to leave him alone, either—the guards may not participate in the harassment, but they don’t do anything to stop the threats. The guards don’t do much of anything when it comes to him, really.

He’s pretty sure he should be having solitary exercise time, but nobody lets him out. Whenever he asks (half-heartedly) to speak to a lawyer, nobody pays him any mind. His food is almost certainly contaminated, but when he speaks up about it, the guard tells him to eat it or starve.

Jimmy’s overly familiar with unsafe food, but he eats as much of it as he can. Food poisoning is unavoidable for him on a regular basis. It’s really not that different.

(Sometimes the guard sticks around to watch him eat, amusement in their eyes. At those times, Jimmy knows for sure that it’s contaminated, and he doesn’t want to know how.)

He’s supposed to go to his first hearing about a week after his arrest, but on his third day it gets postponed to a month away. The guards tell him so with unmistakable satisfaction, and Jimmy lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling.

Does it really matter? The courts will rule against him, no matter how good of a lawyer he gets. He’s Solidarity—er, the Codfather. He’s a villain. The villains never win.

Even when he was a hero, he knew he would be tried as a villain.

It’s the fourth day when his power decides to take action. It’s been in effect this whole time, of course—the shelf where his mattress is meant to lie has already collapsed, and the water will only run burning hot—but the fourth day changes things.

He just wishes it would have picked a better time.

It’s right when the last group is coming back from dinner that the hinges of his specially-reinforced metal door break. It makes a loud noise—the creak of the metal groans, then snap!

The steady stream of inmates slow to a stop, their chatter dying off.

There’s another long groan, slow-slow-slow—

The door shifts and clunks to the ground, hinges no longer holding it up.

Jimmy, sitting on his floor-mattress, lets his head tip against the wall as he lets out a long sigh.

It couldn’t have waited? A mere twenty minutes later and he would have been in the clear.

Jimmy doesn’t fight when they pull down the door and storm in.

He just lies on his bed and tries to cover his vital organs.

-

Despite their indifference, the guards manage to pull off the attackers and send them to their own cells before too much damage is done. Then they force Jimmy to his feet and frogmarch him to a normal barred cell in a different hallway. They toss him a bottle of water and a bucket and tell him to keep a low profile, and that he’ll be moved to a more secure prison in the morning.

Jimmy won’t need that.

He has a concussion, for sure. One man had kicked his head until his ears didn’t stop ringing. That makes his vision swim when he sits up, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to call out weakly for some first aid supplies.

The guards reluctantly provide, and Jimmy sets about taking care of his injuries. It’s really not too bad—he has the concussion, of course, and something that feels like his kidney is bruised internally, but the rest of it is your run-of-the-mill beating. Bruises and cuts all over, his entire body sore. The concussion is the worst of it, bad enough that he was barely able to walk when they brought him here. He should really get that checked by a doctor. Not that it’ll happen, but it should.

Jimmy knows well enough not to fall asleep with a head wound, so he kind of just rests on the floor of the cell, sitting up slumped against the wall, not confident enough to pull himself into the flat shelf-bed with the risk of falling. He presses a hand to his bruises whenever he starts to feel drowsy, and that wakes him right up.

The guards are on edge until around midnight, when they seem to relax a bit. The lights went out at ten, so most inmates have been asleep for a little while now. The two guards assigned to him start wandering away from Jimmy’s new cell now and then instead of constantly watching it, start laughing and joking a bit more.

“Hey! Solidarity!”

They poke a bit of fun at him in the early hours of the morning. Jimmy knows he must be a sight—covered in blood and shoddy bandages, his eyes unfocused and looking at nothing as he sits there on the floor.

He doesn’t respond.

“They hit his head pretty hard. Solidarity, you still alive?”

Jimmy blinks, very slowly. It hurts even just to blink.

“Hope they knocked the power out of him. Think he’ll be able to wash himself, or will they transport him like that?”

“Eckels said they’d take him in the morning. He probably won’t shower before then.”

“I’m not touching him.”

It doesn’t happen quite as slowly as it did with the reinforced door.

As the guards talk, one of the bars of the cell just . . . falls out. It clatters to the ground, making the three men jump, cursing.

Then another falls. And a third.

Well. That’s Jimmy’s cue.

Painfully, he pulls himself to his feet. He swallows back the taste of bile as his vision spins, rubs away some of the blood dripping from his split lip, and slowly, gingerly, limps out of the cell.

The guards stare at him. One of them, cautiously, reaches for his taser.

The weapon cracks apart, shards of plastic hitting the floor.

The guard lowers his hand back to his side. The other two don’t move, staring at Jimmy in some strange mixture of disbelief and irritation.

Jimmy sighs, winces when his whole body twinges. “Stuff still in the same place?” he rasps.

One of the guards nods.

Jimmy turns away and starts the long trek to the storage room. He doesn’t necessarily need any of it, but it would be nice to not be in the prison uniform.

He needs a really long nap after this one.

-

(Poultry Man shows up at his rented room and sighs at the sight of him, then shines a flashlight in his eyes and tells him not to get out of bed for the next five days. That’s about the extent of Poultry Man’s helpfulness, but he does buy him a loaf of bread and two jars of peanut butter.)

(It was a fairly average week, all told.)

[queenarahbo]

Everyone Starts Somewhere

How Amethio came to stay with the Rising Volt Tacklers.

Part 1 of Found Family

Whumptober Prompts Filled: Day 2: Trust issues Day 3: Set up for failure Day 15: Childhood trauma Day 17: Nowhere else to go Day 26: Nightmares - Breakfast table Day 31: Asking for help

Amethio awoke to the oppressive fatigue that weighed heavily on his body and mind. Relief washed over him as he realized he wasn’t dead. But the relief was short-lived as a sharp ache pierced his chest, making it hard to breathe. His lungs burned for air, an excruciating sensation that surpassed anything he had ever experienced. His breathing was slow and shallow at first, but as he began to wake, it started to quicken.

“Are you finally awake?”

Amethio tensed at the voice, which grated on his nerves. That answered the question of where he had ended up. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the white-haired man was sitting to his left. “Friede,” he sighed, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit that shook his entire body. He clenched his teeth as Friede effortlessly lifted him into a sitting position.

“Woah there. Take it easy.”

Amethio concealed his pain behind a stoic expression and finally opened his eyes, dabbing at them with his sleeve. He fixed a piercing glare on his rival before attempting to speak. However, this only triggered another coughing fit. His throat was so dry…

“Drink this. It will help.”

He eyed the bottle of Gatorade with suspicion. There was no way he would accept anything from the Rising Volt Tacklers. It would be so simple to poison a colored drink like that.

“The seal is intact. I figured you wouldn’t trust us.”

Friede seemed to pick up on the obvious distrust. Amethio turned his glare back on Friede before taking the bottle and checking the seal himself. It seemed fine. He twisted the cap and heard the crack of the plastic seal as his confirmation. Fine. So Fride wasn’t trying to poison him this time. He took a sip, relishing silently at the relief it brought his throat, and looked back to Friede as he began talking once more.

“Mollie is in town getting supplies. Try resting until she gets back. You're hurt pretty badly."

Like hell. Amethio would sooner die than stay on this ship. He was in no shape to escape, however, he knew that much. His ankle was wrapped tightly in a cast. That seemed to be a tolerable pain compared to the stabbing from his ribs that only got worse as he coughed. His entire body ached really.

"Amethio, you know you can trust us." Friede huffed before falling into the chair next to the bed "You are hurt. Let us help you."

"You are the last person I want to spend any time around," Amethio growled. Deep down he knew Friede was right. With his ankle broken, there was no way he could escape the Explorers. Especially without his Pokemon. He was lucky enough to have gotten away with the injuries that he had. If it wasn't for the Rising Volt Tacklers he would likely be dead now. Speaking of…he hadn't heard from Conia or Zir since they were separated before the fight. Were they alive? If Hamber had anything to say about it, probably not. They would likely be tortured for information despite not helping him escape. Had they been given the chance he knew they would have helped him. That was all the more reason to get out of here. He needed to help them. If he could get there maybe he could save them. "I'm not staying here."

"Well if you can find your Pokemon and get off the ship then you are welcome to leave." Friede rolled his eyes "But we both know you aren't going anywhere."

"You can't keep me here."

"And we aren't. Whatever stupid suicide plan you are working up should be put on hold until you can actually walk. We will keep your Pokemon safe. Don't worry about them."

Amethio thought Friede looked like he had more he wanted to say, but before the other man could continue he was interrupted by a pink-haired woman strolling into the room.

"Right now this isn't up to you. As Friede said, when you can walk you are free to leave. None of us are too keen on you sticking around anyway." She said before turning back to her computer, no longer interested in the conversation at hand.

"Woah, hang on!" Friede shot to his feet "Amethio is welcome to stay if he wants to. We are on the same side now."

"We will never be on the same side, Friede," Orla said from the doorway. She crossed her arms as she leaned against the wooden frame.

Friede turned to face his mechanic with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to argue again but thought better of it when Murdock gave him a look from behind Orla.

" You have to think of the bigger picture. How would Liko feel about this?" Mollie chimed back in though she didn't turn to face the others.

"Well then, why don't we ask her?" Friede huffed. He couldn't believe that his crew could be so cold. Sure, Amethio had never been a friend exactly, but he was someone in need of help. They helped people. It's not like he was suggesting that they make him a member of their crew. Then again…

"If you are going to keep me here would you mind taking this argument somewhere else?" Amethio glared at the small crowd in the room. He really didn't feel like listening to this any longer. Friede was no captain he would follow. The man was far too reckless and clearly didn't have control over his crew. They didn't follow his orders without question the way Conia and Zir followed him. He let his eyes flutter closed, still fully alert to the people around him, and focused on the footsteps fading from the room. Good, at least they listened to him. Once the room was empty, however, Amethio suddenly felt the weight of his injuries. Finally succumbing to the drowsiness he began to drift.

Amethio was in the training hall of the Explorers’s base. He had just received his partner from Master Gibeon. He had not been expecting the Charcadet for his birthday. He would have been elated to get a Pokemon finally under normal circumstances. Amethio wasn't living in normal circumstances. After his parents died he was taken in by his grandfather. He knew he should be grateful. He knew he should. He had a roof over his head.

"That's our pampered little Amethio." Spinel glared at the aforementioned boy as Sango cackled wildly.

"He's always getting special treatment. He's nothing special." Spinel rolled his eyes before turning and disappearing down the hall.

Amethio just pretended he didn't hear the older kids. He was going to start training with Hamber now. He could finally be useful to his grandfather. He turned around as Hamber's voice reached his ears.

"I am very disappointed in you, Amethio." Hamber scolded coldly "I had higher expectations of you."

"I'm sorry," Amethio replied bitterly. This wasn't his fault. Spinel had lied to him. If he had the proper information then he would have been able to complete his mission without incident. He could hear the older kid snickering from the door. Amethio ground his teeth together. "I will do better next time." That's right. This was after Spinel had sabotaged his mission. He blinked. The room was suddenly different.

Amethio was standing back in the training room. Hamber was staring down at him. Dusknoir's eye glowed eerily behind his trainer. He couldn't let Hamber down again. He turned his attention back to his Pokemon as they battled against each other. He flinched as Ceruledge was unable to dodge in time. He had failed too many times. His partner wasn't weak. He was.

"Useless. Go again."

Right. He was useless. He was a waste of Hamber's time. He was a failure. Hamber's voice was overshadowed by a ferocious roar before the glass shattered. Amethio found himself staring up wide-eyed at the black Rayquaza he so desperately chased.

Amethio bolted upright with a stifled scream, his eyes darting wildly around the room. This place wasn’t familiar. This place wasn’t safe. He had to get out of here. He let his instincts take over and he climbed out of bed. The movements of his muscles ached horridly and he clenched his teeth together. The haze of the nightmare clung persistently in his mind. He restless shifted around until he found another tolerable position. He didn't sleep again. The anxiety the nightmare caused was too much for his exhausted brain to handle. He tossed and turned as the light slowly filled the room. He counted the time as the sun shone brighter and brighter. Eventually, Mollie returned to the infirmary to check on him with Friede close behind her. He didn't say anything as the doctor checked his vitals and gave minimal answers to her questions. "I have to leave. I can't stay here anymore." He finally spoke up.

“Well. You really don’t have many choices right now, do you?” Friede chuckled lightly “You are in no shape to go off on your own and even if you were you are being chased by the Explorers now. You wouldn’t stand a chance on your own.”

“I will manage.” Amethio growled “Now return my Pokemon.”

“Nah. I don’t think so. Why don’t you rest here and we can talk about it later?”

“Friede’s right. You have nowhere else to go.” Mollie chimed in.

She didn’t look away from the computer and her tone was disinterested. Amethio wasn’t sure how she really felt about all this. He knew that he wasn’t the only one with trust issues though. Friede was the only one on the ship who was giving him the time of day. Mollie did so because Friede told her to.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I found this. I figured you would want it." Friede offered a small piece of folded paper to Amethio who took it with hesitation. Friede was able to see the cracks in Amethio's mask. The kid wasn't as good at hiding things from him as he thought he was. He watched the visible distress and rage that spread across his face as he read over the letter.

Amethio stared at the paper in his hands. It was taking everything in him to keep his emotions in check. Hamber and Gibeon had never intended for him to succeed in his mission to retrieve the pendant from Liko. From the beginning, he was meant to fail.

"You okay over there, kid?" Friede looked up from his phone with concern. "Is it something you want to share with the class?"

"No." Amethio bit back sharply "I would prefer it if you would leave me alone now." He had nowhere to go now. He was completely alone. His family, no, the people he thought were his family, had betrayed him. He looked up when Friede sighed.

"I already read it."

"You did what?" Amethio whipped his head towards the older man. He reached out, struggling to find his balance as he moved, and let his hand fly at Friede. He caught his hand with ease. Friede kept his hand wrapped around Amethio's as he stood from the chair.

"Did you really think I was going to let you have something from the Explorers without reading it first?" Friede asked seriously. He waited for Amethio's head to shake before continuing "I've said from the beginning that you can stay here. You will be safe with us."

Amethio couldn't think of a response. He let his hands clench around the paper, creasing it in the process and, sighed. He and Friede stayed like that, neither of them daring to speak, until Friede finally broke the silence.

"Do you want to go down to eat? If you aren't feeling up to it then I can have Murdock bring something up to you later." Friede stared at the reluctant teen for a long moment before sighing in resignation. He wasn't going to get an answer. "Have it your way." He turned to leave but paused when he heard Amethio's stomach grumble loudly. He smirked to himself before looking over his shoulder with an amused "Sure you don't want food?" He found Amethio to be amusing and teasing him was going to be his new favorite pastime. He could practically feel the embarrassment radiating from the kid. His smirk transitioned to a soft smile when Amethio nodded his head. He helped him sit and offered out the crutches Mollie had left for him. He stuck close as they navigated the halls in case Amethio lost his balance. That was a real possibility with how unsteady he seemed. Then again who knows the last time the kid was able to rest or eat properly?

As Amethio shuffled into the large room he suddenly felt more awkward than he had probably ever felt. All eyes were on him. He did his best to keep his appearance up, but deep down he knew it was useless. In their eyes, he was just a stubborn teenager who was refusing help. His ankle ached worse as he tried to sit on his own. He ignored the annoyed sigh from Mollie. The silence in the room hung heavily. It wouldn't have made him uncomfortable if he didn't know how loud everyone normally was.

"Fine." Amethio mumbled, his amethyst eyes firmly trained on the floor as he softly broke the silence “For now.” He could feel the heat in his cheeks and desperately hoped no one else could see it. It was bad enough that he had to ask others for help. "I will stay here if you will allow it. Just…for now anyway." He grimaced as the words left his mouth. They had plenty of opportunities to kill him. If they wanted him dead he would be dead. He chanced a glance around the room. Friede looked relieved that he was agreeing to stay. Liko seemed hesitant about his decision. Everyone else shared a mixed look of frustration and distrust. That was fair, Amethio supposed. He wasn't their favorite person in the world and up until now, he had been fighting them about staying. The silence was dragging on. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. To his surprise, it was Murdock who spoke first.

"Well, if you are going to stay here I need to know if there are any foods you are allergic to."

Amethio simply stared at him. Was he really supposed to give that information up so easily? He shot a look at Friede who simply nodded. This was crazy. These people were the last ones he wanted to know about any potential weaknesses.

"I would prefer not to kill you by mistake." Murdock rolled his eyes. "But I guess it makes no difference to me if you want to keep it to yourself."

Amethio turned his attention back to the chef. That logic was sound enough. He wasn't going to be able to cook until his ankle healed. He took a steadying breath before replying "Tree nuts." He felt his face grow hot as Friede laughed. He was about to find something to throw, but Mollie beat him to it.

"Shut up!" She hissed.

Murdock took that moment to nod seemingly in thought. He looked at Friede and said, "I think we can manage that without too much trouble."

"See!" Friede moved behind Amethio and dropped his hand on his shoulder "Everything will be fine. You are welcome to stay here as long as you want.” Friede ruffled Amethio’s hair, which earned him a smack.

"Don't touch me so freely!" Amethio growled as he recoiled with a glare. He swallowed the panic that surged through him as the feeling of Friede's touch lingered. He suppressed a shiver and sat up a little straighter.

"Sorry?" Friede scratched his head "Didn't think that would bother you."

"Exactly. You didn't think." Amethio growled. He was beginning to regret his actions. Amethio huffed and turned away. He wasn’t safe yet, but for now, he could at least rest.

[jedi-lothwolf]

Whumptober Day 3: Set up for Failure

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Warnings: Multiple character deaths, violence, and strong language.

Summary: What if after The Battle of Manhatten, the Gods decided that the half-bloods were too dangerous to be left alive? Even after winning the war, they could fail to keep their lives.

    No one tells what you are supposed to do after you win a war, especially when you have been preparing for it your whole teenage life. Percy stared at the water. The battle had been over for two days now. Everything was settling down.

    It was noon by the time anyone realized something was wrong. Dionysus was pacing on the deck of the big house. It wasn't uncommon to see him distressed since Caster died. The god had taken it harder than expected. He seemed to be arguing with someone that was just out of sight.

    Annabeth walked down to the beach to meet Percy. They sat together and watched the waves get higher and higher. "Is that normal?"

    "Not really." Percy said uneasy. "Maybe Dad's upset about something?" Lightning flashed in the sky. "That's familiar."

    Looking at each other, Annabeth and Percy felt the need to go back into camp. They stood and ran back as the waves started to rise higher.

    Inside camp, things were a mess. Not that they hadn't been anyway. There were people grieving and weapons that needed to be put away. Funerals were still being planned for some and for others, send offs with no body.

    The sky darkened. Travis walked by Annabeth and Percy. "Did Mr. D give up on the weather or something?"

    "Something's wrong." Annabeth said matter of factly. The two stopped walking as the grass around the Demeter cabin started to rapidly grow.

    "You can't do this!" Dionysus yelled. His voice was loud but still far away. "It's not fair to the kids! They fought our war, leave them alone! You can't just break your own rules!" Anger seemed to motivate the tone of his voice as well as heartbreak.

    Looking at the big house, Travis, Annabeth, and Percy froze. "What the hell?" Travis whispered.

    Grape vines grew on the deck of the big house. Chiron left from the front door and started to make his way to the Demeter cabin. At the same time, the door was being overgrown with plants. Connor had been nearby and ran to the cabin. "What's happening?"

    "I don't know! I can't stop them!" Katie yelled back. "Get to the window!"

    The two cabin leads went to a back window where they started to evacuate the building. Chiron said something to them when he got to them. Tears fell down Katie's face and Connor looked betrayed. "Come on!" He yelled to Katie as she got the last kid out of her cabin.

    "We need to help them!" Percy started to run to the cabin. As the three half-bloods ran, the cabin started to crack.

    "Take my hand!" And Katie tried. Vines grew around her ankles and legs. She screamed as they overtook her body. As the cabin was completely taken over by sharp vines, Conner tried one last time to reach her. His hand touched her arm before he fell back into the ground.

    It took a moment for Connor to process what happened. Chiron dragged him away from the cabin as he tried to go back to Katie. The boy looked down to see a large amount of blood in the grass. Looking for the cause, Connor realized his hand was tangled in the weeds. "My hand." He said breathless.

    "Connor!" Travis screamed. "Where the fuck is your hand!?"

    Slowly Conner looked down and realized his right hand had been cut off by the overgrown vines. Trying to process everything that happened, he just stared blankly where he hand should have been. Quickly Chiron pulled off his jacket and tore off a sleeve. After that he handed the torn sleeve to Percy and gave the jacket to Connor. "Tie that around his arm as tightly as you can." He told Percy. "Travis, get your brother to the hospital."

    "Why not the infirmary?"

    "Camp is no longer safe for you. The Gods," the Centaur looked pained as he spoke. "The gods believe the demigods are too dangerous to be left alive after the war. They believe that you might try to rise against them."

    The teens looked at each other. "You mean to tell me that we won their war for them and now they want to kill us!?" Percy yelled.

    "Oh so they can kill us but not help us?!" Annabeth shouted. She felt betrayed. After so long of trying to defend the gods, they decided to stab the demigods in the back.

    Trying to move the demigods away from the Demeter cabin, Chiron continued. "It's unfair, yes, but nothing can be done about it right now. They kept Dionysus and I away from the conversation or we would have fought for you."

    The ground shifted as Percy fished tying Chiron's shirt sleeve to Connor's arm to make a tourniquet. Connor hadn't stopped watching the Demeter cabin. Quick and thick vines snapped to the top of the wooden cabin. It snapped under the pressure, sending pieces of wood flying through the air. The remains started to be pulled under the ground.

    "No no." Connor whispered. "No, Katie!" Struggling to get to his feet, the boy tried to go to his friend's cabin. Percy grabbed him and pulled him into a trap hug. "Katie!" The demigod yelled, his voice breaking. "Katie!" Pulling him to the ground, Percy tried to calm him down. "We are supposed to go to college after this! Percy let me go, I need to help her!"

    "She's gone buddy." Travis fell to his knees, trying to comfort his brother. "We need to get out of here. Someone has to take care of you."

    "Please no." Connor sobbed. "She was the only one left. We were supposed to go to college. We were-." The boy could no longer talk. Instead he fell into his brother, sobbing uncontrollably.

    "Annabeth, go grab some wood. We need to make the tourniquet tighter." Chiron helped Connor off the ground as the girl found a piece of the Demeter cabin to tighten the tourniquet with.

    "Here." Travis took the wood from Annabeth and then grabbed his brother.

    "Come on. I'll get you out of here." Travis took Connor into his arms. "Percy, take care of our cabin please. I'll try to get him somewhere safe and come back to help."

    That was the first time the group decided to look around. The stray pieces of cabin and stuck campers. Many of them were Demeter's own children and most of them had been killed. Annabeth tried not to cry. After so long, you would think the demigods would just be used to this.

    "What are we going to do?" Percy turned to Chiron. Annabeth ran over to one of the surviving Demeter kids and helped her.

    "Evacuate camp."

    "But then we have to fight gods and monsters!" The son of Poseidon argued.

    "Not all the gods believe you should die. They will protect you. Lady Artemis has offered the assistance of her Huntresses and you have the fun support of Dionysus."

    "Great." Sighing, Percy looked around. "We should split up." Chiron nodded then went to meet Annabeth.

    On the deck of the big house, Dionysus looked over camp. The yelling had subsided. A crack of lightning  pushed the god up against the railing. He fell to his knees as he was struck by the unkind hand of his father, Zeus.

    Anger filled Percy but he knew he couldn't do anything for him. He watched as Dionysus tried to get up but was met with another strike of lightning. Then the God didn't move. The quick thought of Mr. D being killed crossed Percy's mind but gods can't be killed.

    Clarisse sent her cabin member out of the cabin. One of them approached Percy and asked where any of the Apollo kids were. "I'm not sure. We need to find them."

    As if the gods had heard them, the Apollo cabin caught fire. There was screaming from the cabin but it didn't last long. One after another, the Ares and Hephaestus cabins also caught fire. The fire in the Ares cabin spread the slowest while the other two cabins were engulfed in seconds.

    Young Will Solace came running from the infirmary to see his cabin in flames. "No!" He screamed out in terror. Like his older brothers would have, he ran towards his cabin. Grover, who had just come from the infirmary for a nail in his hoof, caught Will before he could get too close. "Austin and Kayla are still inside! They went to get some blankets!"

    Grover pulled him into his arms and away from the building. "It's okay. It will be okay."

    In the Ares cabin, Clarisse tried to get her brother away from the wall as the fire spread. He had been leaning against the wall when he was implied by debris from the Demeter cabin. It had come through the wooden walls of the cabin and pinned him to the wall.

    "I'll get you out of here." Clarisse started to cough as smoke filled her lungs. The fire crept closer and closer to them.

    "It's okay. You should go." The teen struggled to talk.

    "No. I'm not just going to leave you here to die." The cabin leader's voice shook.

    "If you can't get me out safely, just pull me off the wall."

    "That's crazy. It'll kill you!"

    "So will the fire."

    Taking a second to make her decision, Clarisse sighed. "Alright, let's do this."

    Outside of the cabin, Percy helped any injured Hephaestus kids. "We need to get the infirmary evacuated!"

    As Annabeth and Percy ran to the building, there was an explosion inside it. The blast knocked the two back. They could hear Will's distress. People had left their cabin by now to see what was going on. Helping each other up, the demigods looked at each other for a moment.

    "Is this really happening?" Annabeth said with tears in her eyes. Had they been set up for failure by their parents.

    "Maybe Luke had a point." Annabeth didn't seem very amused by Percy's comment. Looking at the fire, Percy dragged them away from the infirmary.

    Grover tried to keep from crying. Will didn't need that. As soon as the boy had seen the fire that engulfed the infirmary, his knees gave. The satyr lowered him to the ground as the boy screamed.

    "Nice of you to join." Percy said sarcasticly as Thaila came out of the woods.

    "What the hell happened?" The huntress started to run with them.

    "The gods never intended for us to survive past the war!" Percy yelled. "If we lost, we died and if we won, we died."

    "I'll get the girls to help." Thaila said.

    "Thank you." Annabeth started. "Percy, where are we going?"

    "Chiron said Mr. D was on our side. Thaila, your dad just did a number on him. We need to see if he could help or if his still laid out in the deck."

    "Alright."

    "I think Percy and I handle that. Thaila, can you go help them." Desperation filled Annabeth's voice. Camp had been her home and she had trusted the gods.

    "Okay." Thaila ran off as the Athena and Hermes cabins started to be overwhelmed by vines. The Poseidon cabin was stuck by lightning, setting it on fire.

    "That was personal." Percy joked.

    "Come on, let's go."

    The fires started to spread to the ground and the woods. Clarisse and another Ares kid came out of their cabin. Blood poured to the ground. The cabin leaders got her brother to the ground. "I need a medic!" She yelled. Then she looked around. Almost every cabin was on fire. The infirmary had gone up in flames and so did her hope of saving her bother. "Damn it!"

    Looking back, Percy tried to distance himself from the situation. Most people had left their cabin when the buildings started to catch fire. As the Aphrodite cabin caught fire, the last person who needed.to leave the cabin came out with blankets and some kind of medicine. It was like someone had been protecting him from the fire.

    Camp half-blood was in chaos. Kids were running everywhere, just trying to survive. Percy looked back at the deck of the big house. Mr. D was nowhere to be seen. The thought that he had left them invaded his mind.

    "Pollux!" A pained voice yelled out.  

    Percy looked to see Dionysus leaning against a tree. It looked like he had been crying. The demigod knew the god had a responsibility to his own child first and he had to respect that. "Come on, we gotta help everyone else."

    "Pollux, come here!" Dionysus screamed, just hoping he would be heard. In the midst of all the chaos, he reached out for his child. The teen raised his head when he heard his name.

    "Dad!" He yelled out. Then he stopped running and looked for his father. When he found him, he sprinted to him. Wrapping his arms around him, Dionysus grabbed his son. The two looked at camp as tears fell down Pollux's face. Not letting him go the god pulled his son away from the battle, letting him bury his face in his shoulder.

    No one could blame them. After all, they were all tired of fighting.

    "Dave." Clarisse spoke. "Just hang on."

    "It's getting cold. Clarisse, you can let me die. I'm tired it's okay."

    Tears attacked her eyes. "Dave."

    Reaching his up to her face, he sighed. "You did everything you could." His breathing started to slow. It wasn't long before he was gone.

    Standing, Clarisse joined Percy and Annabeth. "Are you okay?" Percy said, concerned.

    "Fine." She spoke harshly. Annabeth stopped running and Percy and Clarisse stopped. They scanned camp. "Is everyone out?"

    "Maybe. Camp just got way too quiet that fast." Percy was talking quickly.

Travis startled them when he walked up to them. "I'm back. I got two of my brothers to help Connor." Thaila joined them as well.

"The girls are ready to help if need be. Lady Artemis says she'll take anyone she can."

"Okay. We need to get out of here." Clarisse to few steps forwards. She turned to face the others. Grabbing Annabeth's hand, she pulled the two being a tree and to the ground. "Get down!" The others ducked as lightning went over their heads.

"Oh come on!" Percy yelled.

"Let me talk to him." Thaila tried. "You need to get out of here."

"I'm not doing that again." Annabeth said. "I'm not letting you sacrifice yourself again."

Sighing, Thaila pushed her sister into Percy's arms. "I'll distract him."

"No, we stand together." Clarisse grabbed her sword.

Pushing the sword down, Percy sighed. "How about we run together instead? That works too."

"Fine."

"This way." Annabeth took Percy's hand and guided them out of camp. After all, she knew the camp the best of all of them. The group grabbed Grover and Will, who had hidden in the woods near Thalia's tree.

"Where do we go?" Clarisse asked.

"My home. We can figure it out from there. I'm sure Mom won't mind that much." He looked back at camp. The boy saved the Gods for their children and this is what they get? The first real safe place Percy had, gone. Most of the people he cares about are gone. Percy sighed and started to lead the way to his home.

Part 2: soon

[psychologeek]

Whumptober #3:

SET UP FOR FAILURE | Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

index Part of "The Cyclist AU", where Jason never went back to Gotham, instead went living a quiet (sort of) civilian life. He later joins Tim on his Brucequest, as "Paracosm"

“Seriously?”

The voice comes out of nowhere. If Tim wasn't Bat-trained, he probably would have freaked out. As it is, he only tenses and listens closely for any clearer sign of approach.

“I warned you,” the voice continues. “I left you with clear instructions. What did I tell you?”

“To stay out of trouble,” Tim sighs.

“And what did you do?” Paracosm questions.

Tim stays quiet as the handcuffs are taken off. This is a rhetorical quotation.

The older man just sighs.

“You're lucky I speak French, kid.”

“What –?”

“Your fingerprints are already off the system, Alvin. Now let's go, before they realize I'm not actually from the Interpol.”

(Like it? I have more mini-fics Whumptober index | And full size fics on ao3. )

[what-if-i-just-did]

Guilt & Revenge: Set Up For Failure

Whumptober, Day 3: Set Up For Failure

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist

Finally, one of these turning out the way I'd planned it. Hope you enjoy, please lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

TWs: muzzle & gag, being tied up/immobalized with rope, sort-of failed escape attempt, past torture, threats of torture, captivity

Amber had a muzzle strapped to his face. The muzzle even had a gag, so his mouth was forced open and he couldn’t speak. He had to struggle to even breathe. He was completely immobilized with rope; legs tied to each other and his arms tied to his torso. He wiggled around on the floor like a helpless little worm. It would have been funny, he thought, if it wasn’t for the circumstances. Wiggling on the floor like a helpless worm. 

There were three of them today- everyone except Eileen. That was something, at least. It could have been worse. It had been worse.

Hugo opened the door of his cell, and Amber tried to glare at him, but he didn't even step inside. Instead, he spoke to Amber, before even touching him. “You’re free to go.”, he said.

What??? Was he really? Could he finally leave? Get out? Go home? Why would they do that? Weren’t they afraid he’d go to the police? Amber’s mind was racing a mile a minute. Surely this was a trick. It had to be. But he hoped to high heaven it wasn’t. He just wanted out.

“All you have to do is walk out of your cell, and we’ll let you.” 

For a second it seemed unreal. Just walk out and he’d be free? But as he moved to do just that, his hope sank into fear. He was tied up. Of course.

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Amber tried to wiggle himself to the door. Maybe, if he could just get out of the cell, maybe that would count. Maybe that would be enough.

He could feel Mercedes and Paul’s disapproving glares. He wished he could glare back, or bite out an insult at them, but he was too busy trying to wiggle himself to freedom. And the wiggling hurt- it was aggravating all his injuries. And fuck… he was so tired. He kept trying, regardless.

“What, don’t you want to leave?”, Hugo taunted, “You know what we’ll do to you if you stay, right? We’ll keep torturing you. Like you did to us.” 

Amber wanted to roll his eyes. He never did anything like this. Yeah, stealing lunches, pulling pigtails, and pushing kids into mud wasn’t very nice of him, and he regretted it, but this was extreme. They had just been kids. 

He inhaled sharply when he wiggled in a way that tore open a scab. Fuck. Shit. Agh.

He wasn’t getting any CLOSER. He was causing himself extra pain and it wasn’t getting him any closer to leaving! FUCK!

He wanted to cry out of sheer desperation, but he couldn’t bring himself to give up yet. He had to get out. Even as he could feel the weight of disapproval in the room, the taunts from Hugo landing like physical blows to his resolve.

“We’ll whip you again. Electrocute you. Choke you. All you gotta do is leave, and you can avoid it. What’s wrong? Don’t wanna leave? Do you like being hurt?”

The rocking of the boat was disorienting, and the unsteadiness only increased Amber’s desperation. He wanted off, he wanted out, he wanted to LEAVE. He tried to time his wiggles better along with the soft sway of the boat, but he struggled. Most of his wiggles were badly timed, and accomplished absolutely nothing. The drool in his mouth leaked slightly over his lips, and he struggled to swallow. He couldn’t even wipe away the drool on his face… he’d bet he looked pathetic right about now. He could almost summon one fuck to give. Almost.

He wined out. It would be much easier to leave if he wasn’t tied up. Surely they knew that. It was probably the point. Amber wanted to cry.

“Oh, well… Obviously, you want to stay. And, well, if you want pain.. I’m all too glad to oblige.” Hugo stepped into the cell, picking Amber up by the ropes. Amber gave up on trying to not sob. He could hear the smirk in Mercedes’ voice when she spoke up, 

“That’s more like it.”

Paul stayed silent. Amber barely noticed.

He sobbed. The inevitability of it all hit him, or rather, his helplessness. Nothing he could have possibly done would have prevented what was about to happen, whatever pain he was about to endure. Even if he’d, impossibly, managed to get out of the cell, they wouldn’t have let him leave. It was just a taunt. A way for them to break his mind, his spirit, as well as his body. He hated the thought for even daring to cross his mind but.. it had worked, too.

He scrunched his eyes closed. It hadn’t. It hadn’t “worked”. That was bullshit. If they wanted to hurt him, he was still gonna make it as hard on them as he could. He would fight and scream and struggle.

Struggling, in all possible meanings of the word, seemed to be the only thing he’d been doing lately.

Taglist: @silentlysurffering98

[isamajor]

Whumptober 2024 (day 1 to 5)

Yay, finally @whumptober's month is here ! I'm a bit late, but my brain fog won't lift so I hope this five first drabble with, as usual, Skyrim's cvf, will be ok :D

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK (search party)

The weight of the dragon had caused a great tremor and the ground opened up beneath its feet. The ground was swallowed up and the Dragonborn with it, leaving a gaping hole revealing the hidden depths of an ancient Dwemer ruin.

Kaidan rushed to the edge of the hole, screaming the Dragonborn's name as the dragon circled above them.

"We absolutely have to go get him, he's probably injured, or...", Lucien called out, his voice half-choked with anguish.

"I'll get the dragon's attention. Grab some ropes and go. Time is running out!", Taliesin shouted. (99)

•

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

The Dragonborn watched Nebarra from across the campfire, the flames casting shadows over his moonstone helm. A pit settled in their stomach. Trust came hard, and with Nebarra, an Altmer mercenary who fought for the Dominion, it was harder still.What if Nebarra had sold them to the Thalmor in exchange for amnesty for his desertion from the army? The Dragonborn's chest tightened. Behind the visor of his helmet and beneath the layer of all his trauma, it was hard to imagine everything that could be going on in Nebarra's head.

"You don't trust me.", Nebarra finally said.

The Dragonborn swallowed. "Should I?" (105)

•

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE (wongfully arrested)

His friends have warned him hat curiosity could prove perilous. Lucien barely had time to react when the guards grabbed him. Rough hands yanked his arms behind his back, twisting them painfully as shackles clanged around his wrists.

“I-I’m not a spy! Please, I was just... !”

“Save it for the Jarl, Imperial scum.”, one of the guards sneered, shoving him face-first into the dirt.

Lucien’s heart pounded, panic rising.

“This is a mistake!” He tried to struggle, but a heavy gauntlet slammed into his ribs, forcing a gasp from his lungs and tears from his eyes.

“Jarl Skald doesn't take kindly to Tullius’ dogs sniffing around.” (105)

•

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

The Dragonborn woke abruptly, heart pounding. They saw the others wide-eyed, in the dim light of the Dawnstar Inn. All were silent, but their haunted gazes spoke volumes. Ever since they had set foot in the Pale Hold, Vaermina had tormented their minds with nightmares, forcing them to stay awake for fear of what awaited them in their sleep.

Hours passed. Shadows crawled along the walls, whispering. The Dragonborn rubbed their eyes, but the crawling figures didn't stop. Auri trembled, eyes darting as if she saw something the others could not. Inigo flinched at unseen enemies.

Outside, the wind howled like laughter. (104)

•

No. 5: SUNBURN (healing salve)

Taliesin, his face red and blistered from hours of walking through the glistening glaciers, grimaced as Xelzaz surveyed the damage.

“It’s worse than I thought.”, Xelzaz muttered, reaching into his satchel for a greasy pot of salve.

Taliesin groaned, eyeing the thick concoction with obvious disgust.

“Does it have to be so… greasy?”

“Unless you want your face to peel, yes.”, Xelzaz replied, spreading delicately the salve over the Mer’s burned skin.Taliesin winced and grimaced, but didn’t protest further, letting the Argonian work.

“...I guess I’ll have to thank you for saving my handsome face, then.” (96)

[moonlight0934]

Wrongfully Arrested

Atsushi and Akutagawa walk down the sidewalk together, not trying to kill each other for once. Instead just walking to a mission like normal partners.

“What did Dazai tell you about this mission?” Akutagawa asks, sounding tense.

“Not a whole lot. He said that it was really important that we catch the ability user. Said that they have a hallucination type ability, but he didn’t give me anything else. Why?”

“The only thing he said to me was that he wasn’t asking me to kill an ally of the mafia. As vague as he normally is, it’s not usually this bad. Something feels wrong, but he hung up before I could ask any questions.”

“If it felt wrong, why did you even come?”

“That is a stupid question, Jinko. You know why I’m here.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. Anyway, what’s our game plan? If they have an illusion ability, then anything can be fake as soon as we get into range. I don’t know how large that is, but how do we go about that?”

“Easy, I cut the air right before actually hitting the target. Rashomon cuts abilities, so that close, it should disappear. If not, I can just go for a non-lethal cut. A small one just to make sure that whatever it is is real.”

“Like a paper cut? Do you have the precision for that?”

“Yes, of course I do, you fool.”

“Stop being so persnickety. I was just making sure. I don’t want you to accidentally take off any of my limbs again.”

“Oh, believe me, if I do that, it’s on purpose.”

“You are so mean for literally no reason.”

Akutagawa smirks, showing off his teeth.

“Yeah, no reason at all.”

Atsushi makes a face.

“Please never smile like that again.”

“Can you please shut up?”

“Aw, you asked so politely.”

Akutagawa glares at him as they come up on the district that Dazai said their perp would be hiding in. Atsushi’s phone rings, causing him to pause.

“Do you want me to stop?” Akutagawa asks.

He glances at his phone.

“Nah, you can keep going. It’s Dazai, so I shouldn’t be long. Text me if you find him, but don’t engage by yourself.”

Akutagawa nods, tucking his hands in his pockets as he continues on.

Atsushi answers his phone with a cheerful, “Hey, Dazai, what’s up?”

“Are you with Akutagawa, or did you send him on without you?”

“I sent him forward. Do you need me to get him?”

“No, I wanted him gone. I needed to talk to you alone.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“The perp. I wanted to tell you a little bit more.”

“Why wouldn’t Akutagawa be here for that?”

A weird suspicious feeling starts to take root the longer the conversation goes on. He looks around to see if Akutagawa is still in view, but he’s not.

“I just think that Akutagawa wouldn’t be able to be impartial.”

“Impartial?”

“Yes, I know that he hasn’t killed anyone because of your deal. However, I don’t trust his temper to hold forever.”

“What did this guy do? Can you get the point already? I have to get going.”

“Right, I can do that. He attacked an orphanage in a specific town. Got them to kill each other. That happens to be where Akutagawa grew up before I took him in. That’s why I don’t trust him. He can be very rash.”

“You think he’d really care about that? Anyone he knew wouldn’t be there anymore. He doesn’t seem like the sentimental value type.”

“I know, but he can be. I’ve known him a long time. Trust me on this. I’m only letting you know in case he figures out. Just to make sure that you’re ready in case he attacks you too.”

“Are you stalling?”

“No, but you should be prepared.”

Atsushi hangs up before Dazai can convince him to stay on the phone. He runs in the direction that Akutagawa walked in.

“Akutagawa!” he yells, even though he knows that there could be dangerous people lurking around.

Then he sees them, a group of police men outside of a nearby building. He runs over, trying to see what’s happening.

“Who are you?” one of them demands.

“I work with the Armed Detective Agency. What’s happening over here?”

“We just arrested one of the members of the Port Mafia. He was here to kill someone. We were too late to save them, but we were able to apprehend him with few injuries. Were you sent down on the same mission?”

“No, I was down here looking for a different perp . They weren’t part of the mafia.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, I don’t think he’ll have stuck around after this. I’ll just call my superior.”

The officer nods, and Atsushi rushes off to the side to call Dazai.

“What is wrong with you?!” he demands in a hushed whisper.

“I have a reason.”

“What do you mean? You led him to get arrested! Did he even actually kill the guy?”

“I can’t tell you anything, Atsushi.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. This is not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, and this is how things had to happen. I had to handle it this way. You’ll understand someday.”

“How long are you going to leave him there?”

“Oh, I’m not getting him out at all. I’ll leave that to someone else. The reason why this had to happen in the first place.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m going to do something about this if I have the power.”

“You don’t. Don’t start making trouble where you don’t have any. Leave him alone, and stay out of this.”

“No. I’m not doing that. He’s my partner. That’s your doing too.”

Atsushi hangs up, but most of the police have already left. So, he heads to the nearest police station. He shows them his ID and asks if they had processed any criminals in the last half hour. The man at the front desk looks at his ID closely before proudly telling him that they caught one of the Port Mafia’s top enforcers. They even had fingerprint and DNA evidence pinning him to the murder.

“I want to talk to him.”

“He’s not talking to anyone. We already tried.”

“I don’t care. He’ll talk to me.”

“If you say so. He’s still in the interrogation room anyway.”

He leads Atsushi to the interrogation room where Akutagawa is sitting. Akutagawa has his arms folded, leaning back in his chair with a bored look.

“Akutagawa.”

He frowns deeper as he turns to look at Atsushi.

“What do you want, Jinko?”

“I’m not sure yet. What happened?”

“I showed up at the warehouse that the perp was allegedly last seen at, and there was a body instead. Then the police arrived, and said that I murdered him. I assume that Dazai set me up. They said that they had fingerprints and DNA though I hadn’t touched anything yet. Also, the man was torn up, which I certainly could have done. Not that I leave fingerprints, cause this isn’t amateur hour.”

“Yeah, I talked to him. Why didn’t you just leave?”

“Cause the police were already there, and they were there in droves. I couldn’t just leave without killing at least half a dozen people.”

Atsushi drops back against his chair, his brain fuzzing out for a moment.

“He used me to get you arrested.”

Akutagawa laughs mirthlessly.

“First time? He’ll use you till there’s nothing left of you, or until you die. Both in my case.”

Atsushi looks up to see Akutagawa’s eyes cast downward. They’re dark, his jaw set, and his body tense.

“I’ll figure this out.”

“No you won’t. Not if he doesn’t want you to.”

“There has to be something I can do.”

Akutagawa doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look at him. Atsushi stands up, rushing back out of the room. He can’t take Akutagawa’s silence anymore, can’t take his lack of anger, and his acceptance of the situation. He barely gets outside before he’s throwing up in the grass. Despite everything, there isn’t a single thing he can do in the long run.

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

naasta ni a taylir gar alii’kote (destroy me to keep your reputation) (6,184 words) by foreverchangingfandoms

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Wilhuff Tarkin, Mace Windu, Yoda (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CC-1010 | Fox, CC-3636 | Wolffe, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Luminara Unduli, Barriss Offee, Plo Koon, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Anakin Skywalker

Additional Tags: Whumptober 2024, Whump, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Inspired by the Wrong Jedi arc, Good Jedi Council (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Leaves the Jedi Order, Technically he leaves the Order, More accurately he's removed, Trials, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Being an Asshole, Wilhuff Tarkin Being an Asshole, Both are very relevant, Sassy Obi-Wan Kenobi, Wrongful Imprisonment, Also wrongful arrest, Caring Mace Windu, Jedi Council is So Done (Star Wars), Specifically they're so done with Tarkin, Sad with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending

Series: Part 3 of Whumptober 2024

Summary:

Obi-Wan Kenobi is framed for a crime he didn't commit, wrongfully arrested and forced to suffer through trials where his guilt is already decided (aka Obi-Wan in place of Ahsoka in the Wrong Jedi arc)

My fill for whumptober day 3 - Set up for failure (fingerprints | wrongfully arrested | “I warned you”)