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cloveroctobers · 11 months

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 8. Hector

A/N: the way I always had something in the drafts to write for my beloved man like back during the summer time. The universe had other plans and what better time than to revisit this episode on Halloween! I think this is my first time ever writing on the day of this superior season?! Happy Halloween people 🧡 🪄

WARNINGS: language + hints of sexual tension 😅

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: “I love you, I swear I do but we’re not wearing matching costumes.”

₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚

[~October. 2000’s~]

Oh the wonders of being a big time celebrity during the month of Halloween. That’s right, a whole entire month! Which felt like so because you were constantly in the limelight with people not only dissecting your love life but also your roles which consisted of either being the lead scream queen in a thriller series, supporting actress in horror movies, and also being the star drummer (on some Sheila E shit!) and backup singer of a Alt-Pop girl band on the side.

So yes, you stayed busy and were worth talking about.

“Whatever you decide to be this year has to be big. I mean Destiny’s child, Britney Spears, Zac and Vanessa, and Halle Berry are all gonna be here at your party this year.” Your manager/publicist ranted as she paced the floor in your open concept closet.

You’re lounging on your studded chaise lounge chair, texting away on your blackberry while chewing on some gum, half listening, “Halle’s my god-mom, of course she will be here to support but who else is on this list exactly?”

“I invited pretty much everyone, the hottest stars even those who may or may be in your age range. It doesn’t matter! As long as you get good pics that brings fresh press.” Natania voiced as she began flipping through a notepad.

You hum knowing the deal, considering you’ve been in the limelight since you were fourteen so this was not anything entirely new. “I’ve got the perfect outfit for Hector and I.”

Natania glances up from writing, “funny you mention him after I say press.”

“Him has a name and who also happens to be my boyfriend?”

“Don’t remind me,” Natania mutters, “and just to think you could still be with Taylor Lautner right now. His stats are only climbing after ‘Breaking Dawn Part I,’ dropped and I can only imagine how much more attention he’s gonna get.”

Shrugging your shoulders you say, “I’ve got more than enough attention with and without a guy by my side. It was fun while it lasted but as soon as he booked the role for twilight, the distance just grew. It was all only a matter of time.”

At sixteen and seventeen years old you got into a relationship, naturally with who everyone may know as Jacob Black but he was just Taylor to you. You met way back in a martial arts class that your uncle actually taught but you didn’t end up sticking with it thanks to a tv series you booked. You met again not long after at a audition for “Sharkboy and LavaGirl.”

“Well the both of you could have at least faked it for a little!” Natania almost stomped her feet before sighing, “I mean Taylor still talks highly about you although you decided to pick a old paparazzi instead as your new fling.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to say anything less,” you blinked, “wasn’t a bad break up anyway and I don’t pay you to make judgements on who I date. I pay for you to manage my career, not my personal life, sooo mind yours.”

Natania rolled her eyes beneath her glasses, “whatever, you��re right. I’m just saying you could have done better. There’s just something off about him—Hector and not the whole follow people like you around for cash either.”

“Nat!” You hissed, “shut up already, hector’s coming over, he’s gonna be at that party with me and that’s that. When’s the stylist coming over?”

Natania puts on a forced smile and glances at the watch on her wrist, “in about a hour.”

“Great! Hector says he’ll be here in fifteen so that gives us a little down time. You can let yourself out whenever you’re ready.” You state laying back to rest your eyes.

You’ve been up since six thirty this morning doing a extreme workout routine you didn’t like with a trainer who took it too seriously. You were more of a cardio person than juggling ropes, jumping and squatting, and flipping over tires.

Soon the door bell rings and you pry one eye open to see the monitor by the door glowing, making you aware who it could be. Groaning you took your time getting closer to the screen, seeing no one there. Shrugging to yourself, you plopped down on the lounge just as your closet door budged open revealing your stylist and no other than your boyfriend, Hector.

Lounging on your elbows you smile and wave at the two.

“No, please. Don’t get up, I got it.” Your stylist wheeled in a rack while you laughed at the usual sarcasm.

“Hey, baby.” You craned your neck to meet Hector’s lips as he leaned over you in greeting before sitting next to you, “what happened to fifteen minutes?”

Hector laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck, knowing that he was late, “traffic? Even on my bike and Hunger…”

You hum at this.

“Just burgers.” Hector whispers as you shrug your shoulders.

You knew what it was like, actually dating someone in the supernatural world. It could always go one or two ways and of course there were heavy rumors surrounding Hector since he was there at the time of Mazey Day’s death. He should have been dead—especially with the amount of damage done to his body, you knew what he and Bo were up to and the pictures Bo showed you was not something you would forget.

However Hector was meant to live and see it through…and he did with the help of your family.

They got to him first.

That’s right, a long history of, “werewolf or wolf training,” depending on which form. You had more experience with simply wolfs while the higher skilled like your parents and siblings dealt with the werewolf’s. Due to your involvement with the spotlight you didn’t have much time for…family activities but you weren’t completely clueless.

If you were able to get to Mazey Day in time, perhaps things could have been different. No one really knew and some still didnt accept what it was.

Werewolves were fucking real and you so happened to be dating one.

“Soooo,” you drag pushing yourself up once more to face Hector with a tired smile, “I’ve got an idea of what we should be for Halloween.”

“Aw but you didn’t see what Freddie brought yet.”

“Oh it’s in there alright,” you push off the chair to head over to Freddie who has measuring tape draped over his shoulders.

You do the honors of taking the protective cover off the clothes and run your fingers over the various fabrics, “we have DoubleDare contestants from the 90s, or you can be Cupid and I’ll be a large fuzzy heart, or my personal fav: little red riding hood and her werewolf of a grandmother.”

Hector blinks after briefly studying the costumes and says, “I love you, I swear I do but we’re not wearing matching costumes.”

“Uh oh,” Freddie mutters while you frown at the curly haired man.

“And why the hell not? The last option is the best one.”

“I get that one,” Hector replies with a knowing look in his dark eyes, “but don’t you think it’s a little…corny?”

“We’re supposed to be corny! You’re my boyfriend and I’m your girl.” Digging your fists into your hips and peer at Hector who snorts.

“Yeah but—

“At least try it on! I mean if we’re gonna be at my party together shouldn’t we at least match?”

Hector lightly grips your wrist to pull you from Freddie’s ear shot, “it’s gonna be a full moon that night.”

“Even better.”

“For who? Not me.”

“It’s been a year already,” you slip your hand down to squeeze his, “you’re gonna be fine.”

“That’s not what your mom believes.” Hector’s shoulders almost slump, which irritates you, the fact that your mother was always getting into his head was not something foreign to you but when she started to do it to people you cared about, that’s when it became a problem.

“Newsflash, she doesn’t know everything like she claims.”

“I mean I should listen to her since…”

“Since she’s more skilled than me? Ah alright well I get it. Look, I’m not gonna peer pressure you. I just know I wouldn’t have you here if I didn’t think you could handle it. We’d take all the proper precautions a few days before just like I planned but if you really don’t feel comfortable…we’ll just make sure to take the pictures in advance and we’ll go from there.”

Hector studies you then. He knew that it was hard to be around each other sometimes whenever the moon shifted. He was thankful he got another chance at life…sure but life just become a whole lot more difficult now with this new lifestyle and being legit involved with someone in the public eye. No doubt he’s thought about it before but never pictured it happening and Bo also told him it was a bad idea after figuring out that he basically resurrected and could transform into a hairy ass creature!

You lived one way and he lived another, there were contrasts to you just like the sun and the moon, the pair of you worked taking turns to let the other breathe separately. Space was efficient when it came to your relationship but when you were together? That opened up a whole new feeling. A scary one. He wasn’t sure if this relationship would be long term but he had the chance to see you for what you are beyond the lights and that was a treat in itself.

He exhales, lifting a hand to cup the side of your face, “…let’s try these costumes on then.”

And you squeal, hopping into his arms and he holds onto you as you lock your legs around his hips, his beaming smile meeting yours as you peck all along his handsome face.

“We look foolish,” Hector comments as he readjusts the gingham hat on top of his head while you stand side by side in a full length mirror.

You laugh as you wrap your arms around the curly haired man in the floral green nightgown, “correction: we look fine as hell.”

“Fine enough to where I don’t need to spend two hours sitting in a chair having ass cramps and getting wolf prosthetics on?” Hector slips on his circular glasses and peeks over them at your reflection.

Red was certainly your color.

You snort, “you could always let the moon do it’s thing.”

“That’s not even funny.”

Pressing your chin against the back of his shoulder you say, “Wanna give me a little snarl or something?”

Hector sends you a pointed look as you trail one hand up to twist one of his damp curls, “Oh Granny, what pretty curls you have.”

“All the better for you to tug my dear,” Hector begins to play along.

A smirk makes its way onto your red painted lips, “Oh granny, what a beautiful face you have.”

“All the better for you to,” Hector starts before quickly twisting his body to yank you tight against his body, “sit on.”

You see the specs of ember swirling in Hector’s ink eyes now and you know you were pushing it as the length of his nails began to poke at the fabric of your red hood.

He then places a open mouthed kiss to your beating throat, “you didn’t say anything about my teeth.”

Standing up some with your hands locked around his neck now, you lean just a bit closer so that your forehead presses against Hector’s; you reply just as some knocks sounded at your closet door, “Now that’s satire.”

Hector let’s out a small laugh as you untangle yourself from his grasp to get the door, making a show of pointing the makeup artists in his direction only.

With your confidence in him and against the full moon, Hector can’t help but to shrug his shoulders and take a seat peeking at the face he got used to over the years. Somehow even this skin felt different and not just the scars embedded.

He just hoped you were right but knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Well…here’s to a new change of course for Halloween! That might actually be terrifying but as long as he had you on his team, his doubts and speculations from outsiders—which he used to be—didn’t seem to matter as much anymore.

₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚ ✧ ♱‧₊˚. ₊˚

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

#black mirror #halloween writing prompts #black mirror mazey day #mazey day #black mirror Hector #danny ramirez #Danny Ramirez x reader #october prompts #Spotify

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autobot2001 · 2 months

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A Good Time

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction fandom: Transformers Rating: E Warnings: None Pairing: None Description: Jazz and friends have a fun night at a karaoke bar.

@autobotjazzweek day 1; morror & forgotten. Day 2; singing and dancing Unfortunately, this is all I could write for the week. I plan on finishing the prompts next week.

Jazz’s holoform stares in the mirror in the bathroom. Jazz thinks about the Autobots’ time on Earth. Seventeen years on a planet he and many Autobots call home. Every Autobot knows Cybertron is being rebuilt, and they’ll have to decide if they’re going home or staying on Earth. “Jazz?” Blaster’s voice gets him out of his thoughts. “Huh?” “Have you forgotten about the plan for tonight? Several of the mechs are going to join us in karaoke.” Jazz realizes it’s about time to leave, and he’s not ready. “Yeah, how did we convince our friends to join us?” “You know many of them hang out at Swerve’s bar here.” “I mean karaoke. I can only picture Sideswipe doing karaoke.” “This should be fun.”

Blaster and Jazz meet their friends in a karaoke room at the bar. More friends than Blaster and Jazz thought wait for them. The room is full with eight holoforms and their human friend, Jamie. Lightning and Jamie’s presence here is not an issue since this wasn’t a mech night. The friends go to the bar. Drift, Lightning, and Sunstreaker decide to get one drink to ensure there are enough designated drivers. Unless Blaster and Jazz drink excessively, Ironhide may have to retrieve them and tow their alt modes to the base.

“Jamie is drinking?” Sideswipe asks. “If you count milk with a little Kahlúa.” “Kahlúa contains twenty percent alcohol, ma’am,” the bartender says. “So she is drinking,” Sideswipe smiles. The friends return to the karaoke room.

Dancing occurs whenever someone sings in the spacious karaoke room. No one can blame the alcohol yet. It’s a fun half-hour. While everyone is having fun, they agree it’s time to return to the N.E.S.T. base after one last song. “Crazy, Crazy Nights,” Jazz says While everyone doesn’t like rock and roll, thanks to Jamie, everyone knows the song by KISS. Jazz and Blaster knew they’d sing together, but everyone joined in. A few humans couldn’t resist checking out the party going on. Which the friends didn’t expect. They stick to the plan and go home. Already talking about returning next weekend.

#transformers #transformers fanfiction #transformers autobots #transformers crosshairs #bayverse crosshairs #transformers drift #bayverse drift #Jamie (OC)#transformers bumblebee #transformers terror twins #transformers sideswipe #transformers sunstreaker #transformers blaster #autobotjazzweek #autobotjazzweek 2024

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lilac-gold · 1 year

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OMORI AI-less Whumptober 2023

Contents Page:

DAY ONE: Sick Summary: Aubrey falls ill, unable to leave her room. Her mother doesn’t care, and certainly won’t let her friends come visit.

DAY TWO: Overworked Summary: Hero uses studying to cope with Mari's death. Unfortunately, staying up all night studying can lead to passing out at the most inconvenient of times.

DAY THREE: Isolation Summary: Unlike Hero and Sunny, Aubrey didn’t isolate herself. Her friends and family did so for her.

DAY FOUR: Hiding an injury Summary: Mari’s supposed to be perfect, not go running for help. Hero’s got enough of her worries on his plate without her bad knee too.

DAY FIVE: Held at gunpoint Summary: Someone’s got a gun at Hero and Kel’s school. Kel should be concerned for himself, but all he can think about is his brother.

DAY SIX: Mind control Summary: Under Bossman, Hero is a puppet. He has no say in what his body does, and no way to resist when it starts to hurt his little siblings.

DAY SEVEN: Flatline Summary: Basil hears his grandmother die. The sound of her flatlining sticks with him for hours afterwards.

DAY EIGHT: Panic Attacks Summary: Aubrey deals with things using anger. She can control that, but the panic rushing through her is a different matter entirely.

DAY NINE: Presumed dead Summary: In Black Space, he gets constantly ripped apart, and Omori doesn't seem to care. When he returns to Headspace, Basil learns that his friends ended up giving up on him completely.

DAY TEN: Collar Summary: Molly always treats him like he's less than human. Still, Omori really could've done without the constant reminder around his neck.

DAY ELEVEN: Paralysed Summary: Upon a mountain, freezing to death, Spaceboy can't move a muscle. He's beginning to dislike the numbness.

DAY TWELVE: Sacrifice Summary: The Recycultists have never been a threat, not really. Things change when Basil ends up in one of their rituals.

DAY THIRTEEN: Drowning (ALT Prompt) Summary: He's not a strong swimmer, and hasn't been since he was little. Still, Sunny jumps in after Basil, and wonders if he meant for this to happen.

DAY FOURTEEN: Grief (ALT Prompt) Summary: Unlike Mari, Hero leaves a note. Kel finds it just minutes too late.

DAY FIFTEEN: Transformation Summary: Spaceboy tries to fight the anger that threatens to overcome him every single time. It never works, and hearing that tape again is the last straw.

DAY SIXTEEN: Hospital Summary: Mari is familiar with hospitals, especially this one. One place she's never visited before, however, is its roof.

DAY SEVENTEEN: Hypothermia Summary: Maybe climbing a huge, snowy mountain in only her too-large nightgown and with no shoes wasn't the best idea. Aubrey's certainly starting to feel the chill.

DAY EIGHTEEN: Warm soup Summary: Sunny hasn't eaten Hero's food in years. Now, starving as he is, it tastes even better than ever.

DAY NINETEEN: "Why wasn't I enough?" Summary: Locked in the walls, Rococo's starting to go insane. He still doesn't understand what he did wrong.

DAY TWENTY: Stockholm syndrome Summary: Hero, touch-starved and grieving, craves even the tiniest scrap of love. Finding it in Sweetheart was inevitable, really.

DAY TWENTY-ONE: Near-death experience Summary: After Humphrey, his friends seem fine. Omori knows better.

DAY TWENTY-TWO: Punishment Summary: The guilty must be punished. Sunny can tell no-one, so the only one left to inflict punishment is him.

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Forced to watch Summary: When Kel is about to be strapped down to the dissection table, Hero begs to switch places. Kel hears every broken cry that follows as his older brother watches him get cut open.

DAY TWENTY-FOUR: Failed escape Summary: Hero tries to escape the basement. The man who took him films his punishment. (Inspired by @charismabee's 'found footage' one-shot in our Hero-centric Febuwhump earlier this year)

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: "Why didn't you save me?" Summary: If Basil had been there even a minute earlier, he could have helped. Instead, he made everything infinitely worse.

DAY TWENTY-SIX: Curse Summary: Biscuit used to be able to talk. Now, the only person who understands him is his sister.

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Immortal whumpee Summary: Mari was supposed to be dead. However, looking at herself in the mirror, she sure didn’t look like it.

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Oxygen deprivation Summary: On a mission through the stars, something goes horribly wrong. Before he knows it, Spaceboy is struggling to navigate the way back as his lungs run out of air.

DAY TWENTY-NINE: "The easy way or the hard way?" Summary: Mikhael’s cocky attitude and overall lameness lands him in a bit of trouble when he gets on the wrong side of a group of delinquents at Closeby High. He only hopes the Hooligans come to his assistance soon.

DAY THIRTY: Mind games Summary: Rococo owes Sweetheart his everything, and he knows she loves him… Even if what she says sometimes doesn’t completely align with that.

DAY THIRTY-ONE: Crying Summary: Kel hasn’t let himself cry in years. After seeing Basil’s body in the bathroom, it’s all he seems able to do.

And so, the time arrives! I will be posting each of the above one-shots to AO3 under "Whumptober 2023", as well as here on Tumblr in a series of posts. I will add links to each day once completed, as well as a 'previous' and 'next' to each day on Tumblr. I hope that you stick around and enjoy this month, because it's going to get whumpy!

(In addition to this, I will be doing a collaborative work with @charismabee centred around every alternative prompt for this event. Each day will be set in a different Omori AU that we've created. She is also doing her own version of Whumptober alone, so check her out if you'd like to see more! <3)

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th3sp4rr0w · 11 months

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Day Seventeen

A03 Link <- Starts at Chapter/Day One for those just joining us :))

Prompts For Day Seventeen Hypothermia/Heat Stroke/”You Look a Little Pale”

Alt. Prompt For Day Seventeen Memory Loss

Prompts Used for Day Seventeen Hypothermia, Heat Stroke, "You Look a Little Pale"

Tw's; Medical Experimentation, Past Injury Mention, Past Child Abuse, Mentioned Vomit, Mentioned Gross Behavior Towards Children, PTSD/Flashbacks *Note; There will be no actual sexual assault, especially towards minors, in this fic. It is strictly gross comments made in his past. The scene with the agents touching his cheek is not meant to portray sexual assault. I do understand that it sounds that way, which is why I added the comparison to other creepy adults in his past. It is just Jason's PTSD being triggered and sending him spiraling.

Chapter Seventeen under the cut :)

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They were left alone for a while.

Agents, mostly Agent A and Agent J, would periodically flitter into the room to check on Phantom’s wound, see how it was healing, give them bathroom breaks, etc. Agent A had even pulled a few strings and got them showers. She’d even gotten them fresh clothing but promised they could keep whatever pieces they wanted, and she’d wash the rest. Cardinal kept his masks, belt, and gloves, and Phantom kept his hoodie. They, of course, kept their shoes as well.

When Agent A started making comments on their greasy hair and the way they smelled, Cardinal got an inkling he knew what was going on. He’d managed to shove all the contents of his belt into the hiding place without breaking the tile. He put a few things he knew he probably wasn’t going to be allowed to keep into the belt, to check if they’d search it. They were missing when he got it back. He was suddenly glad he’d thought of the ceiling as a hiding spot.

Cardinal had helped to shampoo Phantom’s hair when he was asked, rinsing it gently. He’d helped him get dressed again after he got stuck in his shirt and asked for it. He’d had to step up a lot for his twin recently, but he didn’t mind.

The bastards had gotten their answers results at his brother’s expense; blood blossoms did affect them negatively in human form, and their limbs...

It hadn’t grown back fully yet. They weren’t sure what kind of scarring there’d be, what the functionality level would be like, if it would cause any pain, but Phantom’s hand had started growing back. It would be fascinating if it didn’t send rolls of nausea careening down his body every time he thought about it.

He’d started exercising again. They still weren’t sure how to tell time, but he figured it was about every twelve hours or so Agent A and Agent J would switch off. That’s how most places would handle shift change, right? As far as he could tell it was as close to making sense as he could get it.

He did one set of exercises the first time he saw Agent A and the other the first time he saw Agent J. Phantom joined in where he could, having to be careful of his injury and mindful of his human half’s limitations. He also tried to keep up with the collar training; it worked fairly well most of the time.

One day he’d started moving slightly... sluggishly. He couldn’t figure out why, no matter how hard he’d tried. It was like his body had decided to just... stop working. Until he started exercising, at least.

As soon as he’d started to sweat a little bit, he felt infinitely better. It was so much worse after he was done with his sets and started cooling down. It was like someone was actively trying to freeze his joints together using his own body water.

The worst part about it was that Phantom wasn’t anywhere close to dealing with what he was. He swore the room was colder, but Phantom didn’t know what he was talking about.

Cardinal wasn’t stupid. If this had been just about any other person in the building, he would’ve thought they were fucking with him. But Phantom? It didn’t make sense.

What was (probably) the day after that was better, for him at least. He felt warm, like he could actually retain the heat he generated and use it for something. The frozen joints had thawed out and he could move freely; it was like he was some little creature, coming out of hibernation new again.

But Phantom was sweating like he was in a sauna. Beads of it dripped down his face and back; he took his shirt off just to try and cool down again.

It was odd. Neither of them could make sense of it.

The temperatures in their room kept getting more extreme. Phantom would thrive on days Cardinal was too stiff and cold to think, let alone move, and Cardinal would absolutely love the days Phantom was too hot to speak.

Then came the day the agents finally decided Phantom was healed enough to begin testing again.

He had about half of his hand and thumb regrown. The first joint was moving on its own. It was, apparently, enough for the agents to deem him fit. Cardinal almost asked if they could wait but he decided not to get too cocky. They had it decent in there right now; neither of them had been physically hurt in days, they had snacks, neither had gotten caught journaling yet, and they’d even had a shower. As far as kidnapping scenarios went, they were doing pretty good for themselves.

Agent J marched them down to the medical room. They still didn’t know why they’d started having experiments in there instead of their room.

They were directed to sit on the cots. Cardinal could tell Phantom didn’t exactly feel comfortable; in his defense, neither did he.

“Alright,” Agent J was holding the tape recorder again, “Log 51 on subjects T and F. This is Agent J, by myself. I have gotten the greenlight for further testing on the temperature experiment.”

Cardinal looked at Phantom. He looked back. They knew they weren’t going nuts. How rude, truly; all the other times they’d at least warned them they were being tested on.

“I’m going to start the experiment out at 68 degrees, then lower it slowly. Afterwards we will climb back up.”

They set the temperature and waited. At first, both boys were fine; he had a slight chill, but it was bearable.

When it was lowered, Cardinal reacted, squirming to try and get warm. Phantom looked at him like he was nuts.

The lower they went, the more it became obvious that he wasn’t doing very well. His teeth chattered; his body shivered. He pulled his knees up to his chest to try and preserve some of his heat.

It was odd. Cardinal had been through harsher temperature changes than this before; why did he feel like a frog slowly getting boiled alive, or more accurately, slowly frozen to death?

It felt as though everything had slowed down to an unbearable level. It was like his brain had been set on fire and he was trying to stay afloat.

The temperature dropped.

His hands were bright red. He couldn’t feel any warmth in his cheeks.

The temperature dropped.

It was like someone had taped pillows to his joints. Moving them felt stiff and uncomfortable; it almost hurt a little bit.

They were pale. That wouldn’t have been concerning if the temperature had risen at all, but given the trend of dropping it that didn’t seem likely. He felt like he was slowly being syphoned of all of his energy. The longer he stayed cold, the more he felt the effects of being that way.

“Hey, Cardinal? You doing okay?” Phantom asked.

The thought of opening his mouth to say anything filled him with dread. He did it anyways.

“I dunno,” he slurred.

Phantom winced. “You really don’t do well in the cold, do you, buddy?”

On the outside, he shrugged, but internally he was slightly freaking out as much as he could. It, at least, was in the 20’s; It’s not like he was in the negative temperatures without any gear. This shouldn’t have been possible.

The temperature dropped. And dropped. And dropped.

He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this. It was like he was in hell, except hell was a frozen tundra. It felt like he should have frost on his eye lashes. He wasn’t sure if he was hypothermic yet, but with the way he was shivering as though it was his full-time job he wouldn’t be surprised.

Phantom gave him his warm hoodie. He, without thinking much about it, had pressed his face into the fabric. He breathed in Phantom’s scent; something minty with an undercut of... huh. It almost smelled like one of Nightwing’s zesty’s. He looked like he wanted to go over to the other boy; they had been lucky to even get away with giving him the hoodie. Something about skewed results.

He looked over to his twin often. He was... doing just about as well as Cardinal had been in the beginning. He couldn't help the flash of jealousy; he’d never had the temperature training Cardinal had back when he was Robin. How was he doing better in the cold than he was? He didn’t feel like it was fair.

Then again, fair was never in the equation in this place. It was a luxury they’d never been able to afford, and frankly he’d be suspicious they were gearing up to something if suddenly it ever was. He was having a hard enough time trying to remind himself that being given access to things like food, water, and a toilet was considered a human right and not a kindness.

Being in the room was not pleasant. He put the hoodie on over his t-shirt and sweats. They’d been surprisingly comfortable considering he didn’t think that the facility would bother providing clothes at all; they were hesitant enough to allow them to shower.

He wondered if Agent A convinced them by telling them it’d skew the results too much if they continued to ferment in their own juices. These people really only listened if you pointed out it could potentially skew results of the experiments they were conducting. That was a depressing thought.

The temperature continued dropping, even as he began to feel worse. What else was new? Once they started one of these ‘experiments’, they rarely stopped unless one of them was really hurt. He could feel himself starting to nod off.

He tried to keep himself awake as best as he could. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he fell unconscious during one of these torture sessions.

He closed his eyes again. He thought of when Batman took him to see the Al Ghul’s one week when they were being extra weird and cagey about what they were up to. It’d been hot; he’d sweat into his eyes and could hardly move in his suit. The bat had lathered his exposed skin in sunscreen whenever he even thought about going outside and he’d still gotten sunburnt.

He tried to convince himself he was warm. The Bat had always told him mind over matter; Nightwing had said the same thing, though, and he’d trusted it way less.

He loved Nightwing and trusted him with a lot of things; psychology, or anything having to do with decision making, he did not trust. This was the same man who ate cereal with his sugar instead of the other way around and drank zesti, like, at least three times a day. It was absolutely ridiculous and he still maintained they needed to stage an intervention for him. Alf usually agreed. He’d also decided the Discowing suit was an acceptable thing to fight crime in, so again, he did not have the best track record.

Though, thinking of his family back home had helped. He’d stopped shivering. He thought back to his lessons with the bat. Wasn’t that a big sign of hypothermia?

He looked down to the rest of his body. He tried to move his toes, which barely cooperated with him. He began to wonder if it was too late to try and beg not to do the experiment, or to at least start raising the temperature and seeing how they do.

He felt something in his chest trying to take shape. Phantom looked at him.

Questioning-Concern-Reassurance

Cardinal tried to focus on sending a response, but there was really only one feeling he had to share.

Cold

Somewhere in him, he recognized that Phantom raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t have the energy to send anything else and he sure wasn’t going to be trying to verbally respond anytime soon.

Somewhere on the outside, he thought he heard something. He felt the change somewhere deep within him. It was like something had built up in his chest and was telling him of all the things he would normally miss out on.

The temperature had risen, just a little.

He whined, bringing his legs up and tucking them into the hoodie. He pulled the hood up, fumbling with it and nearly being unable to do it at all. He pulled the strings and put his hands in the pockets.

The temperature continued to rise, and Cardinal felt more human with every degree. That’s not to say that he wasn’t cold. He was still freezing; it felt like he was Thanksgiving’s turkey thawing in Alf’s sink, but days before the actual event; the man wouldn’t add water until the day before, saying it was bad luck or something. He didn’t know much about thawing... anything, really? He’d always taken the elderly man’s word on it. He had to know a little bit about what he was doing at least, his food was always delicious.

He shifted slightly to look at Phantom from his makeshift cocoon.

“Subject T,” he heard Agent J’s sharp voice.

He slowly moved his head to the agent. “Yes?”

“Are you done with the dramatics? We have an experiment going.”

He resisted the urge to twitch. He took a deep breath. “Play the long game,” he reminded himself. “You can turn this place into a big campfire later.”

He vaguely wondered if the bat would let him bring marshmallows. At the very least, Nightwing would indulge him. He was certain of it.

“I’m sorry,” he grit out. “I was uh, I’m. God it’s cold,” he said, burrowing back into the hoodie.

“Stop being dramatic,” the agent said simply. “You cannot be that sensitive to temperature.”

He almost pointed out the whole point of this experiment seemed to be how sensitive they were to temperature. He bit his tongue. He could make fun of these people with Phantom later; for now, he needed to be the perfect little captive. He couldn’t wait to tear these people apart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, attempting not to sound bored or sarcastic. Nightwing said when he wasn’t feeling good his tone just naturally took that route. He didn’t think the agent would appreciate it.

Phantom was right; these people had to have been living in their moms’ basements before this. He couldn’t see a single well-adjusted person ever wanting this job, even if you took away the genocide and other things.

Plus, if a single one of them had ever been even mildly interested in science ever, they’d know this was incredibly unscientific. Cardinal had never been able to puzzle out a single hypothesis. It was like watching a child with a magnifying glass on a sidewalk full of ants.

The temperature slowly rose in the room. His temperature rose with it; eventually, he was able to slightly uncurl himself. He still wasn’t brave enough to take the hoodie off, but he was feeling somewhat better. He looked over to Phantom.

He almost wanted to reach out. He also didn’t want to be separated. He had a feeling that these people weren’t into empty threats, given what happened the last time they were here.

The mark, even being scraped out, hadn’t healed completely right. He had a huge divot in his arm where the mark was, digging into his skin and marring it forever. There were a few scars he wanted to see if they could do something about when he got older; that was one of them.

Phantom looked at him and smiled. Calm-Reassurance-Okay

Cardinal smiled back. Okay-Reassurance-Cold

He could see Phantom almost laugh before he caught himself.

The experiment, like so many others, involved a lot of waiting to see what would happen. It truly was nothing new; these people got paid to basically sit around and watch two teenagers obsessively. Except for Agent A; he wasn’t sure what the hell she was supposed to do. He was pretty sure she was stealing company property with the food and water, and she had yet to conduct an experiment on them. He was pretty sure she was deadweight to the agency; so why did they keep her around?

He might have to conduct a few experiments of his own.

He stretched, finally feeling the frost around his joints loosen. He flexed his hands; they still had the ‘pillow’ quality to them, but at least he could move his fingers without little pinpricks of pain dotting his hands. He didn’t want to imagine how Phantom would feel trying to do this.

His brother looked like he was beginning to feel the heat starting to build in the room.

He yawned and stretched; being in here was so boring sometimes. He didn’t think he wanted to see it get interesting though; it seemed like every time it did, they came away with some new oddly specific trauma. He took off the hoodie, beginning to fold it so he could put it at his feet.

He tried not to think about how the feeling that being experimented on was just another part of their life now.

Phantom stretched out, starfish style. As the temperature rose, he was doing worse. He already looked somewhat worse off than Cardinal felt; he wondered if he’d had enough water today.

The warmth that spread around the room felt nice. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket with hot cocoa after crushing Nightwing in a snowball fight. The other boy had claimed all through the winter that he’d let him win, but considering how much he complained coming in, he seriously doubted that was the case.

Phantom’s skin had a flushed quality to it. When Cardinal looked him over, combing his eyes over his face, he looked dry. He tried not to worry about it, but if he remembered right from his training days, that wasn’t exactly a good sign.

He knew better than to act alarmed. If it got worse, he might try to get him some help. Didn’t they have the data they needed by now anyways?

It kept rising.

He thought it felt nice. It felt like a nice summer day, or a pleasant winter day spent by the fire, or when he used to enter the library on a cold rainy day to find it warm and dry. He’d find a book, probably either an Austen or some other classic, and he’d spend the day reading until they closed.

He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he got the feeling the exact opposite was true for Phantom. As he watched his twin on the bed next to him, he could tell he was struggling; his chest rose and fell rapidly and he sounded like he was barely getting any air in.

He felt the urge to go help. It was just how he was; he may not be Robin, but Cardinal wasn’t willing to let it go, either.

He opened his mouth. “Um, not to be a pain or anything, but his breathing is pretty heavy, don’t you think he should get checked out or something?

Agent J rolled her eyes. “He’s just faking it so he can get out of a bit of discomfort, the way you did, subject T. He’s fine; don’t bother me again.”

He inhaled. He couldn’t protest it; they wouldn’t listen unless they decided they wanted to be cruel and punish them for very little reason again. He wasn’t about to make things worse for them... on purpose, at least.

Phantom seemed to be trying to say something lost to the movements of his mouth. It was like he couldn’t get comfortable; he wondered if it was similar to what he went through with the cold.

A few agents entered the room, glaring at the children as they came in. They had icepacks and hand warmers.

“Ah, good,” Agent J mumbled. “Right on time. Icepacks go to... that one-” they pointed to Cardinal, “Give the warmers to the other one.”

He twitched. Visibly, physically twitched. Who did these people think they were?

He didn’t say anything as the ice packs were pressed onto his neck, hands, and feet. Already, the skin there ached- it's like they were trying to make sure they both came out of there with physical and psychological damage.

Seeing someone in distress for that long would do it for sure.

Reassurance-Protection-Okay?

Hot

… He supposed that was fair, considering he did the same to him earlier.

He watched as the heat packs were applied to Phantom’s flesh. The boy squirmed and tried to fight off the oppressive heat; it did not do much.

The agents were bigger. They didn’t seem bothered by the heat of the room. They seemed to be just fine in their cheap suits as they forced a teenager to undergo heinous torture. He’s pretty sure the UN put this on the list of things you cannot do while interrogating enemy soldiers. He could see why.

He tried to keep breathing. Just because Phantom was likely out of the game for a while, doesn’t mean he had to be.

… They had to have been there for hours now. He couldn’t help but wonder if Agent A would come rushing in to be the savior again. Suspicious or not, playing the long game meant that they were out of options. They had to cooperate with whatever batshit insane plot these people had come up with this time; they couldn’t afford to protest. If the wanted this to end before they were ready to end it, they had to rely on other people in power. Even if you were pretty sure those other people in power weren’t going to be your allies for long.

Beggars can’t be choosers, and all that. They were aiming for survival. And who knows? Maybe his mommy issues leftover from Sheila had translated into a hard mistrust of women in his life that would follow him for years to come and Agent A really was a good person.

He didn’t rule out that both scenarios could be true. Maybe he should listen to Alf and get therapy.

He began to rock back and forth, trying to maintain his core temperature. He could feel his hands and feet going numb. He took a deep breath.

He tried to close his eyes and focus on happier times. Throwing sticky pancake chunks at Nightwing during breakfast, when he and the baby bird played video games, his mom reading him a Jane Austen novel for the first time-

He heard something being dragged in. He almost didn’t want anything to do with it; the whole “seeing what’s coming” thing hadn’t been great for his morale as of yet, and avoiding thinking of their next move was kind of working out for him right now. Maybe if he had his belt stocked when they got captured, or maybe if he didn’t know very well that apparently nothing was off the table to these people, he could think about it.

As it was, he didn’t want to. It would just make the situation worse. He could be tense and ready when the time came.

Although he hated it, he had a feeling that time was now.

Against his better judgment, he cracked an eye open. He didn’t want to know where they got a tub from. He had a feeling he knew what it was for as the ice packs dripped down his neck.

“We want to see how you do when exposed to cold temperatures for longer periods of time, since you seem to be ‘sensitive’ to it,” Agent J said when they caught him looking.

He tried not to sigh. This was going to suck.

He looked back over to Phantom, who looked to be on the verge of passing out. At this point, who’s to say if it wasn’t going to get worse just to get worse?

He looked around. It, apparently, took three agents staring into the same tub to slowly fill it with undoubtedly freezing water using a hose. One looked like they were actually doing their job and monitoring it until they could go get ice to shove into it, the others were doing... he wasn’t sure what they were doing. Probably screwing around. He could relate.

Agent J wasn’t staring at them anymore. They had gotten up to do... something, he guessed, over by the door. He peaked.

He didn’t know what was happening. There was nobody there. That would normally set off all of his instincts, but this place seemed to be more sadistic than intelligent. He took one more look around before grabbing the icepacks and moving over to Phantom.

He swapped their torture devices silently and quickly, looking to make certain nobody was watching. Even if they caught him, he was prepared to take the punishment. He’d rather get in trouble for doing something rather than for little to no reason, anyways.

He slid back onto the cot without a sound. He was getting better at that these days; moving swiftly, silently. Sure, he’d done so as Robin, and he’d done it well, but normally he could at least hear something when he did. The ruffle of his clothing, a swoosh of his cape. He was almost glad he’d lost it in the van that day.

As he watched the tub fill and the agents begin to shove ice into the water, he resigned himself to his fate. He’d known for a while that he’d changed after Ethiopia, emotionally anyway. He’d known he’d changed physically. Being forced to strip to his underwear in what was supposed to be a hot room judging from the beads of sweat dripping down the agent’s foreheads, while he himself was perfectly fine was...

Well. It wasn’t an easy thing to come to terms with.

He could avoid it all he wanted, but one day he’d have to face that these people have changed him irreversibly. The Joker when he blew him up in a warehouse, the GIW when they kidnapped him and are currently still torturing him. Sometimes it felt like his body was just a roadmap of hardships.

Getting into the tub reminded him of something he’d thought he’d forgotten.

He’d been little, maybe five. Before Catherine had gotten addicted, she’d been sick. He wasn’t sure what it was; she’d hidden it from him for a long time, never really addressing it. She had once just been his mom, trying her best in a shit situation.

She’d been really sick that day. She’d been vomiting; he thinks she might’ve had a migraine. She used to get those a lot when he was older. Willis had come home for the first time in days and had been berating her for not cooking dinner. She’d tried to explain, but he’d only yelled at her.

He was five. All he’d seen was someone yelling at mommy when she already didn’t feel good. He didn’t know monsters were a thing that existed outside of underneath the bed and in the closets. How could he?

He was five.

He’d said... something. His memory was fuzzy after all these years. He was nearly certain the word ‘poopy-head’ had been involved, since that was the strongest cuss word he’d known at the time. Instead of taking a step back and wondering why a five-year-old felt the need to call him a poopy-head, or better yet, asking himself why the child calling him an insult hurt his feelings so much, Willis had dragged him into the bathroom.

The electricity had been shut off again that month. It was winter. He vaguely remembered going to the neighbor’s sometimes to bathe with their kid and cook dinner. It didn’t matter. What mattered is there was no hot water in their apartment, and it was winter.

Willis made him watch the tub fill, like he did now. He’d made him get in.

He remembered his lips turning blue. He’d remembered the way it made his body feel. The pain, the cold. Willis had threatened to put him outside in the grey snow after, just to teach him a lesson.

He’s still not sure what the lesson was. Don’t back talk? Don’t call people poopy-head? Didn’t matter.

It’s funny that something that seems so insignificant now still has the power to take his breath away. He settled into the cold water as he tried to ground himself in this moment instead of living in that one. He wasn’t about to let these people see him cry, but it felt like he was five years old again, in the freezing bathtub as the man who was supposed to be his dad berated him. His mom had been so, so mad.

She’d packed him up and taken him to the neighbors, blue-lipped and barely responsive, he’d been told. They ran him a warm bath. They bundled him up in all the blankets either household could spare and put him right next to the heater. They hadn’t known if he would survive the night; a hospital trip had been out of the question for several reasons.

He was pretty sure he had been hallucinating by that point, but after he was supposed to have lost consciousness after the blast in the warehouse, he could’ve sworn he'd felt like he was freezing. He’d just been burnt by an explosion; his skin was probably still burning itself. He’d felt so cold.

He knows if it was real, it was probably just the brain’s way of trying to convince him he wasn’t dying. He wished he could do it now to feel some semblance of warmth after this.

Whatever they were trying to accomplish by doing this, he wished it would just happen already. He could feel his skin burn as he stayed there. Someone dunked his head underneath.

He felt the water soak into his masks, making them stick to his skin. When he was pulled back up by his hair, he reached a shaking hand up.

He clawed at his ear where it looped around. The fabric made it feel like he couldn’t breathe; his hands were so cold that he couldn’t get the thing off for several moments.

It finally caught on one of his fingers. He could barely hear some of the agents mocking him as he tried to catch his breath. One of them caught him by his jaw, forcing him to look up at them. “Look at it, man,” he said, caressing his cheek.

“It almost looks like a real kid, but look at that scar!” Said a different one. He felt another hand poke him on the ‘J’. He resisted the urge to bite them; he didn’t know where they’d been.

He wished they’d get their ogling over with. They were starting to uncomfortably remind him of the grown men and women who’d ghost over his shoulder and ask when he’d be joining the working girls of the alley. If he came with a discount. Where he’d gotten his long lashes and baby blues from. It made his stomach twist.

He thought about closing his eyes and pretending it was Batman, checking over him and making sure he was alright after a hard night out, but quickly shut down the idea. The thought of the man he considered to be his papa acting anything like these disgusting pigs made him want to vomit more, if that was even possible.

He tried to pull himself out of his head as they kept making comments about the scars on his body. Openly wondering if they were death marks. Making bets on how he died as if that wasn’t one of the worst days of his life they were chatting animatedly about. He wondered how these people could go home and sleep at night with the way they acted. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping very well when he finally got out of this fucking thing.

They dipped him under again. He tried not to think about their tiny apartment in the alley with the mold on the windowsills. He tried to pretend he didn’t think of the blast that had left him in this mess.

More memories fluttered to the surface. The group of men that tried to stiff him while he was selling tires chasing him when he pickpocketed one of them to compensate for the missing money. Falling into Gotham harbor when he first started out as Robin while trying to dodge a bullet from some goon that didn’t know how to shoot. Throwing up water for 30 minutes after Batman fished him out and stripped him of the costume. When the bat took his cape off to wrap around him. Peeking his head at Commissioner Gordon when he asked what happened and him asking if they needed clothes for him.

He didn’t like these memories. He tried to remember his mom’s face when they caught the first snow fall together, before the plows could come through and ruin the pure white snow. The way the snow looked when first falling over the rooftops, covering Gotham in a layer of gorgeous ice. He tried to remember the face the baby bird made when he convinced him to go outside after school and threw a snowball at him, causing them to have a war like he did with Nightwing at home.

Any time he tried to remember the more delicate details, something horrible would come up. In a way, this was worse than it was days ago with the blood blossoms.

These people really should wear masks. He hated feeling weak; he swore to himself he was going to make every single one of these people feel this way one day.

Playing the long game sucked. It got you dunked in a tub of ice water while grown adults laughed at you. It got you memories that mocked you during your lowest moments. Here’s what it also gave you.

Patience. Cardinal had been playing the long game his whole life. When he was a child being abused by Willis, assuming he had come home that night. While he was Robin, staking out criminals and waiting for the day Batman would let him go out alone. With the Joker. While he was here. People assume playing the long game got you nowhere. That it was only good for making memories you didn’t want to keep.

Holding onto things can make you bitter. Sure, the occasional bout of melancholy was to be expected from someone in his position. Mostly, however, he was angry.

How many other kids had to go through this before anything was done? How many other kids had to die before something was done? Starting out as Robin had mostly been for the long game of helping the alley. The game sucked, but it kept him alive long enough to do something about it.

When you’ve been playing the long game as long as Cardinal has, you get the pleasure of seeing who’s been eliminated. What makes your opponent tick. How their brain works. It gives you the ability to predict what happens next, should you choose to.

Playing the game with the GIW had sucked so far. However, the way he saw it, it was necessary. It gave him the incentive to make his revenge more... satisfying.

Batman doesn’t do revenge. Robin hadn’t either.

Nightwing did. He’d helped him a few times. He was pretty sure the baby bird also took revenge, if the way he’d been plotting getting his father divorced was any indication.

Robin had never been vengeful. Not that he didn’t have anything to be vengeful about; but he’d been happy. Taken care of. He’d believed that Batman would always be there to protect him; he knew now that, if he could, Batman would trade places with him in a heartbeat. That wasn’t what he was worried about.

He’d never understood why other heroes would say he was just a man. Sitting in the tub, he thought he understood now.

There were limits being human had. Robin had never been willing to admit that Batman had limits beyond those he self-imposed. Whether Robin had ever admitted it or not, it was something Cardinal had gotten to know intimately. He supposed it was fair. Robin was never supposed to shoulder that burden; it was, after all, the reason Cardinal was able to take flight. Cardinal was born because of the limitations Batman had.

He felt the hands leave him. He eventually found his grip on the side of the tub, hauling himself above water and looking at the scene in front of him.

Agent A was fussing over Phantom. He could hear her muttering about cooling him down. He saw her place a gentle hand on his cheek, muttering “You look a little pale,” as he watched him fight not to let his head lull to the side.

These people would pay for what they’ve done. However, patience was a virtue. He could be patient. He could play the game. He could wait his turn, bide his time.

He was willing to burn this place to the fucking ground if it meant he’d never be cold again.

#dp x dc #ailesswhumptober2023 #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc robin #robin #batman #ai less whumptober day seventeen #kite flies over the nightingale nest

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shywhumpauthor · 1 year

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Merry Whump of May Masterlist

Yes I’m using one of my posts from earlier today for this because I don’t want to make a new one. Sue me. I’ll edit this sometime, make it pretty but rn it’s just for the link.

Day One—“No pain, no gain”

Compass || Haphephobia || Kitchen

Day Two—“Need a ride?”

Wrench || Paranoia || Club

Day Three—“You’re not looking so hot”

Lightbulb || Tension || Alleyway

Day Four—“Two birds, one bullet”

Chess pieces || Stubborn || Tower

Day Five—“Do unto others as you would bla bla…”

Bow and Arrow || Stalking || Cavern

Day Six—“It’s a long story”

Knife Handle || Gagged || Under the table

Day Seven—“Write what you know”

Box || Magic || Cell

Day Eight

Day Nine

Day Ten—“Hit the hay”

Key || Forgetting || Warehouse

Day Eleven

Day Twelve

Day Thirteen

Day Fourteen—“Well, well, well…”

Barbed wire || Starvation || Drain

Day Fifteen—“The power of God and anime”

Hammer || Over-Exhaustion || Hammer

Day Sixteen—“Take a Break”

Branding Iron || Moonlight || Cemetary

Day Seventeen—“Going down in flames”

Pole || Regret || Fireplace

Day Eighteen

Day Nineteen—“Apples and oranges.”

Chainsaw || Surprise || Home Base

Day Twenty—“A taste of your own medicine”

Zip Ties || Bleeding out || Office

Day Twenty One—“Devil’s advocate”

Tome || Desperation || Hiking Trail

Day Twenty Two—“You can lead a bitch to water”

Origami || Amnesia || Attic || Alt. Prompt Teacup

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #its me coal #coal wrote something #mwm2023 #whump masterlist #writing challenge #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whump prompts #I’ll add more tags later too #but for now fuck it

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hexeology · 8 months

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oh boy it’s febuwhump

what’s up gang it’s me—the DEVIL

posting this early bc i’m impatient. my bestie @shadelorde and i are doing this together because we’re cool and creative and totally do not solely write/draw the same 2-5 characters over and over because we’re deeply emotionally attached to them. we have an au set in the world of my original work where atla is CANON bc why the fuck not honestly. making ur ocs meet is so fun #vaatuloversriseup. roe can no longer blame being a bitch on being fatherless lmaoooooooo idiot

bolded days are ones that i will most definitely be posting something for, be it art or writing. the others are likely to get at least a snippet but it depends on how much time and energy i have. chronic illness be damned </3

i may end up subbing some days with prompts from the alt list if i can’t think of anything for the regular one

day one: helplesss

day two: solitary confinement

day three: “bite down on this.”

day four: obedience

day five: “i love you.”

day six: “you lied to me.”

day seven: suffering in silence

day eight: “why won’t it stop?”

day nine: human weapon

day ten: killing in self defense

day eleven: time loop

day twelve: semi-conscious

day thirteen: “you weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

day fourteen: blood-stained tiles

day fifteen: “who did this to you?”

day sixteen: came back wrong

day seventeen: hostage situation

day eighteen: too weak to move

day nineteen: “please don’t.”

day twenty: truth serum

day twenty-one: unresponsive

day twenty-two: “you weren’t meant to be there.”

day twenty-three: presumed dead

day twenty-four: “i’m doing this because I care about you.”

day twenty-five: waterboarding

day twenty-six: “help them.”

day twenty-seven: left for dead

day twenty-eight: immortality

day twenty-nine: not allowed to die

#whumping the blorbos #moe shut up challenge #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #whump writing #whumpblr #vaatu is so funny bc he got like two seconds of screentime but in my mind he’s like The Main Character #grips you #this guy FUCKS #and has SO MANY ISSUES #he’s perfect #babygirl what’s wrong you’ve barely touched your fluff fic :(#GIRL KING IM NOT EVEN LOOKING AT THAT I WANT THIS TWONK OBLITERATED #oh the horrors

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kcscribbler · 1 year

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Temporarily pinning my Whumptober series link from AO3, because I'm probably not going to bother tagging everything for tumblr and the archive, specifically. This is just for fun.

Prompt One TOS, set in TCOTEOF: "How many fingers am I holding up"

Prompt Two, Thirteen TOS, Movie-era: Thermometer

Prompt Four, Twenty, Thirty-One ^^ Part Two: "Are you in there?"

Prompt Seventeen TOS, no particular timeline: Aftermath of Failure

Prompt Fifteen TOS, missing scene from a Generations fixit: "I'm fine."

Prompt Twelve AOS, Academy era: "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?"

Prompt Three, Eleven, Twenty-Four TOS, missing scene: Solitary Confinement, Captivity

Prompt Eight AOS, no particular timeline: Overcrowded Sickbay

Prompt Seven TOS, early in canon: "I don't know if you can hear me."

Prompt Fourteen, Twenty-One, Thirty TOS, somewhere in canon: Water Inhalation

Alt for Prompt Sixteen TOS, set just after TMP: Miscommunication

#fanfiction #fanfic #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #star trek aos #star trek tos #star trek the original series

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phanfictioncatalogue · 1 year

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AU - Rock Band Masterlist

Acid Rose (ao3) - heyitsnxel

Summary: A tour, friends with benefits, ignored feelings. What could go wrong?

Blue Fish (ao3) - potatocakesparker

Summary: PJ leant back and laughed. “Oh my god, oh my fucking god, it’s just your luck isn’t it? Out of thousands of crazy, random fans, one of them is your soulmate!”

//Daniel Howell is the lead vocalist and guitarist of alt-rock band, ‘Hanging Grims’ he created with his best friend, PJ Liguori. Last night, he played a normal show and did a meet and greet. This morning, he woke up with the mark of his soulmate.

Come Back Home (ao3) - kawaiikanai

Summary: It’s been years since Dan’s rise to fame made his and Phil’s relationship come crashing down; but in that time not a day has gone by that he hasn’t thought of him. After some unsavory shots of Dan gets passed around the media, Phil begins to worry about Dan’s health, no matter how much he tries to deny his leftover feelings for him.

Give Me Some Of That Bass (ao3) - drxpdead

Summary: Playing music has always been a big part of Phil’s life. From the time he was five, and banging spoons against the table, to present day; seventeen years old and apart of the upcoming Alt. Rock/Everything-In-Between band, Heinous.

It’s an easy life to live, he’s sure. Making music with his best friends, trying to avoid failing high school the best he can, and getting his parents to stay off his back about ‘that God-awful noise’.

And there’s Dan Howell.

Groupie (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan follows a punk band with a hot lead singer around a lot but feels crushed when he watches a live interview.

Heart Strings (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Music! Phan AU created by wavyfoxtrot Dan is a piano virtuoso who's world is turned upside down when he meets Phil, the lead guitarist of a rock band

Keep the Time (ao3) - starwatersong

Summary: This work was written for Phandom fic Fests Holiday Exchange 2018 for PartlyCharlie! The original prompt was: Dan and Phil in a band.

Dan, still recovering from a rough break-up, works in a coffee shop by day and plays in a band with his friend PJ at night. The problem is they've never had a gig and they need a new drummer. Dan meets Phil and finds much more than the drummer they're looking for.

Modern Fairytale (ao3) - howelllesters

Summary: Dan hadn’t even wanted to go watch his flatmate’s friend’s band perform, but now he was backstage and trying really hard not to make eye contact with the guitar player because he was really, really, unfairly cute.

my fire was fate with you (ao3) - obsessive-fics (xoPrincessKayxo)

Summary: Dani is less than thrilled when her band gets a gig opening for Fiona Lester, someone she considers to be the opposite of everything she stands for. But after being on tour forces them together, Dani realizes she might have misjudged Fiona, and an unlikely friendship blooms

Pastel Panic (ao3) - metal_arm_metal_shield

Summary: Phil Lester is the lead singer of the rock band “Pixel”. To his fans he’s a confident, sexy, rock god, but in reality Phil suffers from panic attacks that are beginning to ruin his life. Dan just got tickets to see his favourite band live and is excited to see his secret crush, front man Phil Lester. But he’s even more excited when his friend, Chris, somehow gets him backstage.

Sure Feels Right (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: Aka the fic where phil is a rock musician and in love with his roommate and best friend and fuck buddy dan, and since both of them are a little too scared to start the conversation, phil writes a song for dan, hoping it would get his point across and start that conversation for them, leading them to hopefully boyfriends and not just blow-induced fuck buddies

We Don't Have Much Room To Live (ao3) - starrywrite

Summary: “And I had these dreams that I would learn to play guitar, maybe cross the country, become a rockstar. And there was hope in me that I could take you there, but dammit you’re so young - well, I don’t think I care” - Something Corporate, Konstantine.

(Band!AU. Phil and his band are about to embark on their first tour, and his boyfriend - and biggest fan - Dan is coming along for the ride. What could possibly go wrong?)

We’ll Figure This Out (ao3) - violently_knits

Summary: Dan Howell is in a rock band called Burn This City Down. When Phil Lester, the band’s manager, is assigned a bunk on his tour bus, they start to get closer and closer.

With Plans, With You (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: I can’t get any work done I just think about you all the time.

Your Biggest Fan - dxnhowell

Summary: Phil is in the middle of a world tour with his rock band Killing Daisies. They’ve only been on tour for a couple of weeks now and it’s their first time touring in America, so they are still getting the hang of things. One night, their tour bus breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, someone passes by who’s willing to help them. This someone just happens to be their biggest fan.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #au #rockband #rockband masterlist #band #band masterlist

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antiv3nom · 2 years

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preparing to defend

day seventeen of prompt calendar by @aesterblaster

prompt: niko (extra: stretching)

(as always, id in alt text, and you dont need to click but its niko! its the boy! behold him in all his detail and glory! there may not be much of the first but my point still stands!)

#my art #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fanart #blue lock prompt month #niko ikki #ikki niko #blue lock niko #antiv3nom's art #MY BOYYYYYY #ough i need to draw him again i dont think this really does him justice #but hey its chill #hes still lovely <3

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mixsethaddams · 2 years

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Rope Burns (Alt Prompt)

Day 5 for @febuwhump. (Yes I know I'm late I'm catching up. I'll add all these to ao3 soon too.)

Eddie Munson

Words: 1210.

Warnings for a mob murdering Eddie 🤷🏻‍♀️

Eddie should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.

Well, easy might have been an over-simplification. But in comparison to dragging yourself out of hell and fighting to clear your name of all those pesky murder charges, not to mention the most intense physical therapy known to man, yeah, maybe Eddie thought things might eventually get a little easier.

He never thought he’d find himself wishing that Jason Carver survived being torn in half, but here he was. According to Lucas, Jason had seen just enough before he died to turn him into a believer. In the very last moment of his life he supposedly had a look of total clarity on his face. Lucas swears that he would have switched sides if he made it. That would have stopped Eddie from getting jumped twice a week by everyone who knew Jason, Chrissy, and Patrick. Even people who had ostracised Fred after the car crash were on his ass. Eddie wondered if Jason would appreciate the irony of being his saviour.

It looked like he was about to find out.

The jeers from the ground below him snapped Eddie back to the present. He was kneeling on top of his own van, ambushed in the woods by a bunch of fucking teenagers wearing Hawkins High sports jackets. One quick kick to the back of his head was all it took to get him pliant enough to be dragged onto the roof and tied up. Hands firmly behind his back with zip ties and ankles swiftly broken with a golf club. The rope around his neck was flung up over a nearby branch. It was cutting into his skin now, getting tighter every time it was pulled by whoever was taking their turn yanking on the other end.

He had long since stopped trying to reason with them. It was obvious now how this would end. Eddie had originally started off with his usual sarcastic quips, trying to frustrate them enough to leave him alone, and moved onto yelling for help when that didn’t work. No one heard him. There was a reason he came so far into the woods. It was private, people never came around here. Realising that the group must have tracked him the entire time he was out of the house today was when it clicked with him that this was a plan. They weren’t just the usual band of small town bastards out to mess with him. No. They were here to kill him.

Eddie hissed in pain as a knife slide over his inner arm, elbow to wrist.

“How’s that feel, Freak?” crowed the boy standing behind him.

“Feels great,” mumbled Eddie, his airways straining against the rope now, vision starting to blur.

The rush of blood from his arm down over his hands was making his stomach turn. Eddie hated blood. The smell of it cut through the scent of wet leaves around them. He was glad at least that he didn’t have to see it.

Eddie yelled as the boy kicked at his feet, right into his broken ankles. He swayed off to the side but the rope stopped him from falling. He gasped for air and felt his lungs start to burn before he was righted by a rough hand grabbing his hair.

“Let’s just fucking do this,” someone on the ground called. “I don’t want to get caught out here,”

“Yeah!” agreed another voice. “Just push him off the edge and let’s go,”

The hand in Eddie’s hair wrenched his head back so the person could look down into his face. The kid didn’t look more than seventeen.

“You know,” he told Eddie. “I think they’re right. I’m getting bored,”

For a split second Eddie had a naïve flash of hope that maybe they might leave him alone. It was snuffed out as soon as it appeared though, when his head was steered down so he could watch as two of the spectators tired the end of the rope around the base of a tree.

“Any last words, Freak?” he was asked.

Eddie wanted to say yes. He wanted to plead his case and say that he’d tried to save Chrissy, he never touched Jason or Patrick or Fred, he would never dream of hurting Max. He wanted to tell them all about his uncle and how hard his death would hit the man. They would be murdering Wayne too because he wouldn’t survive another heartbreak this big. Eddie wanted to talk about the kids from Hellfire and if they could just speak to them they’d see that he was a dork with no badness in him at all. He wanted to ask to see his bloody arms, and hope that maybe fainting at the sight of his own blood would prove he didn’t have it in him to be a murderer.

Eddie said nothing. He knew nothing would work. He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. Eddie thought of all the good memories he could muster. He thought of winter nights in the trailer with Wayne, watching black and white Westerns on their small TV. He thought of belly laughs during DnD sessions. He thought of Steve Harrington and the stolen smiles and glances of the last few months. Soft brushes of fingertips on the couch when no one else was paying attention. He thought of everything that could have been.

Eddie wondered if his Momma would be waiting for him when it happened. If he’d feel her arms around him as he cried for the life that he left behind. The thought that he might hear her laugh again made him brave. She always called him her Little Soldier. If he skimmed his knee or hurt himself she would coo in his ear while she tended to him, promising that he was doing so well. She called him fearless and made him feel like he could do anything. He was a coward without her, and it was only her memory that helped Eddie hold his ground against the bats. He would have courage now too. For her.

“Well?”

Eddie shook his head and kept his eyes closed. Tears were falling freely down his face now. He wasn’t ready to die. He had no choice.

Eddie felt a shoe rest between his shoulder blades and a cheer came from the group on the ground. The boy behind him kicked hard, and Eddie tumbled over the edge of the van’s roof.

His instinct was to open his eyes to find an escape route but he kept them screwed shut. He didn’t want any of these people to be the last thing he saw. His feet weren’t quite touching the forest floor but even if they were, his broken ankles would have stopped him getting any purchase against it. His legs flailed against his will, the momentum from the fall causing them to swing.

Eddie felt his eyes roll into the back of his head and the pain in his chest screamed for relief. The tell-tale sounds of people running away through twigs and bushes went quiet quickly, their squeals of delight fading away. Or maybe that was just him.

Eddie’s legs stopped kicking long before he was found.

#febuwhumpday5 #febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #seth writes #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things #warnings apply #tw murder

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darl-ingfics · 1 month

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Alright friends! I know I don't have too many followers here yet, but I’ve seen others asking and I would LOVE your input on Sicktember. I have the first 13 days planned/in progress, but I want to know what YOU want to read for prompts 14-29! (with one exception, you can see below).

I am comfortable writing for any members of Seventeen, EXO, SHINee, and BTS.

For ATEEZ, I'm feeling more and more comfortable with them, but I find that I favor the hyung line, (I say when there is a Wooyoung-centric fic planned...). Basically, go for it, and I'll let you know.

For NCT, I will only write for 127, and even then, I will write for: Taeil, Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung, and Jaehyun. The others can be there, but these are the members I favor and feel most comfortable with. Similar to ATEEZ, go for it, and I'll let you know!

You can see my pinned post for what I will/won't write. Be as specific or general as you want. :)

I've already selected some ALT prompts below. And there is a dialogue exchange for 18 that is non-negotiable...

14. Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

15. "Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’"

16. Toxin/Poison

17. Brain Fog/Spaced Out

18. “My body is one big ache” - PLUS DIALOGUE:

Sickie: Maybe I shouldn’t have dropped it low so many times last night. Caretaker: Or maybe you shouldn’t have performed on stage with the flu.

19. Hypochondriac Tendencies

20. Medication Bribery

21. Anaphylactic Response Flushed Cheeks

22. NOT AVAILABLE! THIS IS ALREADY PLANNED FOR SEVENTEEN. (For a scenario briefly mentioned in a monster-length Seventeen fic I have in the works and will hopefully publish one day.)

23. Under a Spell

24. Tales From the Waiting Room

25. Summer Flu

26. Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest Doctor's Note

27. “This is non-negotiable"

28. Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

29. Sick on a Road Trip

#help a girl out!#kpop sickfic #kpop fics #seventeen sickfic #bts sickfic #ateez sickfic #exo sickfic #shinee sickfic

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the-walking-pie · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022 Masterpost

Thank you to everyone who read my Whumptober fics this year. I suppose I’m a completionist now. Yay!

The entire collection can be found on AO3 here. The fandoms included are (in order of frequency):

Lupin III

Fire Emblem Three Houses/Hopes/Awakening

Pokemon Ranger and Legends of Arceus

Persona 4

The Great Ace attorney

Moomin

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Cat’s Eye (Anime)

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles

Fills by prompt are under the cut

Day One: Unconventional Restraints

Day Two: Confrontation

Day Three: Gun to Temple

Day Four: Hidden Injury

Day Five: Hyperthermia

Day Six: Ransom Video

Day Seven: Shaking Hands

Day Eight: Back from the Dead

Day Nine: Sleeping in Shifts/Caught in a Storm

Day Eleven: Self-done first aid/Makeshift Splint

Day Twelve: Cave In

Day Thirteen: Fracture

Day Fourteen: Desperate Measures

Day Fifteen: Breathing through the Pain

Day Sixteen: Mind Control

Day Seventeen: Reluctant Caretaker

Day Eighteen: Take My Coat

Day Nineteen: Repeatedly Passing Out

Day Twenty-One: “You’re safe now.”

Day Twenty-Two: Toxic

Day Twenty-Three: Tied to a Table

Day Twenty-four: Blood-Covered Hands

Day Twenty-Five: Duct Tape

Day Twenty-Six: “Why did you save me?”

Day Twenty-Seven: Magical Exhaustion

Day Twenty-Eight: Punching the Wall

Day Twenty-Nine: Better Me than You

Day Thirty: “Please don’t touch me.”

ALT prompt 6: Sensory Overload

ALT prompt 12: Carried to Safety

ALT prompt 15: Tears

#whumptober2022 #completionist #fanfic #fanfiction #lupin iii #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem three hopes #fire emblem awakening #pokemon legends of arceus #pokemon ranger #Persona 4 #the great ace attorney #moomin fanfic #a series of unfortunate events #cat's eye #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #masterpost

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ninjadeathblade · 7 months

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Febuwhump Day Seventeen: (Alt. Prompt) Found footage

Warnings: Mention of character death, Star Wars swears

Word count: 254

Author's notes: Yeah, I don't remember when I reference it but at some other point in this month's writing challenges (I think at the end of this month) I refer to the fact that Havoc used to have a bounty hunting buddy before Ghost.

Havoc flicked through files on their datapad, deleting the occasional irrelevant one while also marking up others to put into different files.

Ghost shifted in his sleep next to them, moving his head to rest on their shoulder.

Havoc stiffened slightly, waiting for the clone to get comfortable before going back to sorting through files.

They paused over one, pulling up the audio file and setting their datapad to a low volume.

“Havoc, check this out!”

“Holy shi- is that a loth kitten?! You gotta get rid of that thing!”

The camera cut on, a female Twi’lek holding a small creature facing the camera.

“He's not dangerous, look at him, he's just a sweet little guy!” She said, nuzzling the creature against her face.

One of Havoc's hands reached in frame, not-so-gently taking the loth kitten and depositing it on the floor.

The Twi’lek pouted. “Honestly Havoc, it's not like that thing could kill us.”

A loud roar sounded in the background and both of them scrambled to their feet.

“No, but that could,” Havoc replied, the camera shaking as they took off sprinting.

The camera and audio cut out.

Havoc did their best to not shake and wake up the clone.

“Who was that?”

Havoc jumped at that, looking down at Ghost.

The clone's hazel eyes narrowed with worry. “You're clearly upset. Was that your old bounty hunting partner?”

Havoc pursed their lips, gaze darting away before nodding.

“She's dead, isn't she?”

Another nod.

Ghost gripped them tighter. “I'm sorry.”

Havoc sighed. “Thanks.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #whump #febuwhumpday17 #oc ghost #oc havoc #tw mention of death #tw death

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Taking Chances Ch. 17: Talking (Alt Prompt: The Talk)

AO3

First

Tim walks into the kitchen, blinking sleepily at his little sister. He glances over at the clock on the microwave, blinking again to make sure that he hadn’t misread the time. Five thirty in the morning, and she was baking cookies. He clears his throat, smiling apologetically as she jumps.

“Sorry Mari. Early morning?” He asks, moving to get coffee and noting that the pot was already half empty.

“More like, late night.” She corrects. Tim frowns. Her summer in Gotham was supposed to be relaxing for her. It was supposed to be a way for her to be a kid again. Instead she was making cookies by herself at five thirty in the morning after not sleeping. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he was determined to figure it out. There was no way he was going to make her deal with whatever this is by herself. She has backup now.

“Did you want to talk about it?” He offers, leaning against the counter, drinking his coffee quickly to try and wake up more.

“Not really. Kinda just wanted to stress bake.” She says quietly. He nods. Sometimes it was hard to talk about things. That’s okay, he can look into it later.

“Well, I’ve gotta go work on some things in the cave. Did you want to come with?” He asks, refilling his coffee. She frowns, looking at the bowl in front of her.

“Can you wait like, five minutes? I just need to get these ready to chill.” She says, gesturing to the bowl. He nods, watching as she zips around the kitchen as if she’d grown up in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure why she’d been up baking so early, but he was determined to help her. As much as he avoided sleep, he knew it wasn’t exactly healthy. Probably shouldn’t encourage his little sister to do the same thing.

---

Bruce walks into the theatre room, frowning when he sees Dick and Jason, but no Marinette. That was odd. She hadn’t been in her room either. He decides to check the kitchen next, knowing his daughter enjoyed baking. Walking into the kitchen, he’s surprised to find it empty as well. Glancing at the coffee pot, he notices it’s nearly empty, but still on. Which meant Tim had been up to get coffee recently. Flipping the pot off, he turns and starts towards the Batcave. Perhaps Tim knew where Marinette was. Walking down his usual entrance, he’s unsurprised to see Tim working at the computer. What he hadn’t expected, however, was Marinette curled up in a chair next to Tim, sleeping.

“Tim?” Bruce calls, catching his son’s attention.

“Oh, hey B.” Tim says, not looking away from the screen.

“Is there a reason Marinette is sleeping in a chair instead of her bed?” He asks. He knew she had a nightmare last night, but he had assumed she’d fallen asleep with Jason and Dick in the theatre room. And if she hadn’t, he’d at least expected she’d return to her own room. Not the Batcave. While some of his sons preferred the cave to any of the other rooms in the manor, he’d hoped his daughter was different. That he had at least one child willing to live in the house instead of the cave.

“I’m sure there is. And I’m going to find out.” Tim says, leaving Bruce with more questions than answers.

“Okay. How long have the two of you been down here?” He asks. Tim stops typing, glancing down at his watch before looking back up to the screen.

“Little under two hours.” He replies, jerking his head towards Marinette. “Think that’s also the only sleep she’s got all night, so probably best to leave her for a little longer.” Bruce frowns at this. Sure, he knew that she had a nightmare last night. He knew it was bad enough that she had sobbed into his arms. But had she really avoided sleep after that? Was it really that bad? She didn’t want to talk to him about it last night, but maybe she’d talk later today. He wouldn’t push her, lord knows that any child of his isn’t going to take well to that, but maybe she’d talk to

him now. Hopefully the nightmare would now be far enough from her mind that she could talk.

---

Marinette gasps, sitting up so quickly that she manages to flip the chair she’d fallen asleep in. She hisses in pain as her head bounces off the stone floor. So much for being the holder of the Miraculous of good luck.

“Did you just fall out of your chair?” Tim asks. She glances up at her brother, who had apparently left for another cup of coffee.

“No?” She says, smiling awkwardly from the floor, where her limbs are currently entangled with the chair. Tim shakes his head and snorts, sipping from his mug.

“Whatever you say Mari.” He says, walking over and sitting back in his chair, going back to his work on the computer.

“What time is it?” She asks, carefully untangling herself and getting off the ground.

“Mmm, around nine.” He says, not looking away from the screen.

“In the morning?” She asks, knowing it was completely possible for Tim to have worked nonstop in the cave.

“Yes.” He says, shaking his head. “B wants to talk to you, by the way.” He adds.

“Oh. Okay. Am I in trouble?” She asks, suddenly self conscious. It was the first time anyone in her family had had to deal with one of her nightmares. Usually, Tikki was the one to wake her up and calm her down before she attracted an akuma.

“Of course not.” He reassures her. “He’s probably in his study.”

“Oh, good, okay. Well, I’m gonna go talk to him. Please take a break, Tim. I know you haven’t eaten anything today. You can’t run on coffee and spite, trust me, I’ve tried.” Marinette says, grinning at her brother before using the tunnel that connected straight to the study. She still hadn’t figured out the many rooms of the manor, but the maze-like setup of the Batcave was something that she’d figured out easily. Taking a breath, she knocks on her side of the Grandfather clock, waiting for a response.

“Come in.” Her dad says. She walks in, grinning at the exasperated look on his face.

“Hi dad!” She says cheekily, plopping down onto one of the couches.

“Is there a reason you didn’t use the actual door?” He asks. She shrugs.

“Why get lost in the manor when I can just use the secret tunnels from the cave?” She asks. He sighs.

“I still don’t understand that, but alright. How are you feeling this morning?” He asks, his face turning serious. She smiles, but it’s forced now. She didn’t want to talk about this. She really didn’t want to talk about this with her dad, who would surely never give her permission to date Adrien if he knew. Not that she needed permission, but it would make it easier not having her dad against her.

“I’m fine!” She says, keeping her plastered on smile.

“I talked to Tim this morning.” He says, instead of calling her out. Well crap.

“Oh really?” She asks, silently cursing Tim. Or, wanting to anyway. But she wouldn’t because she knew he meant well.

“He said that you hadn’t slept last night. I know you didn’t want to talk to me about your nightmare last night, but maybe now-”

“No. No, I’m fine. It’s fine.” She rambles, cutting him off. He frowns.

“Marinette, I’m not going to be angry with you if that’s what you’re worried about. You had a nightmare, and it has clearly left you shaken.” He says. She huffs, running her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.

“I just- I can’t tell you. If I tell you, you’re going to be mad at someone and I don’t want you to be mad at them.” She explains, wincing as his face darkens.

“Did someone hurt you?” He asks, his voice the coldest she’s ever heard.

“Dad-”

“Did someone hurt you?” He asks again, cutting her off as he stands up.

“Not on purpose.” She insists, wringing her hands together.

“It doesn’t matter if it was on purpose, Marinette! This person hurt you badly enough that you had a nightmare about it. Bad enough that you were sobbing, that you couldn’t go back to sleep. I don’t care if it was on purpose or not, Marinette, that person does not deserve to be anywhere near you.” Her dad says, his face and voice hard as stone.

“But Dad, it really wasn’t his fault-”

“His?”

“Yes, Dad, he was akumatized.” She says, watching as he unclenches his fist and collapses back into his chair. “So it wasn’t his fault.” She adds, frowning as he shakes his head.

“Why didn’t-” He pauses, seemingly recollecting himself. “Why isn’t there a story on it?” He asks. She frowns.

“Story on what?” She asks.

“A story on Adrien being akumatized? Why isn’t there any record of it?” He asks. She jerks back like she was slapped. How did he- world’s greatest detective. Of course.

“He doesn’t know.” She says softly.

“How?”

“One of the Miraculous users is Bunnix. She holds the Miraculous of time, and is able to time travel. It was about a year ago, she came and grabbed me and took me to the future.” She explains, avoiding looking at him. She didn’t want to talk about this. It was the talk that she’d been avoiding, no matter how many times Tikki assured her she could talk to her dad about it. Or her brothers. But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. But now she had to.

“In the future, Adrien and I had been a couple. He found out my identity as Ladybug, and I’m not exactly sure how it came to it, but for some reason, Hawkmoth targeted us. He was able to akumatize Adrien while he was Chat Noir. He….he became Chat Blanc. The complete opposite of Chat Noir.” She says, watching her hands as they shake in her lap. He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “He still had the power of destruction but with the help of the akuma...it was awful. His power became unlimited. He blew up the moon.”

“The moon?” He asks.

“Yes.” She says. “He also flooded Paris, destroyed the Eiffel tower, and killed both Hawkmoth and future me. That was why Bunnix needed me. I had to fix it. But she wasn’t able to stay with me, so I had to fight him alone. And I didn’t know that he was Adrien then, but he was still my partner and he kept calling me Marinette and he told me that it was our fault. That our love did it to the world. And it hurt, Dad. It hurt that my best friend destroyed the world because of me. Because of us.” She says, voice breaking as tears fall.

“Marinette, honey, look at me.” He says softly. She looks up at him, surprised to see that he had moved to kneel in front of her. “That was not your fault. And you should not have had to go through that by yourself. That was wrong of Bunnix. It was not your fault.” He reassures her. She lets out a sigh of relief, throwing her arms around him and crying into his chest just like she did last night.

“Father, have you seen- what did you do to Marinette?” Damian asks, barging into the room. Marinette snorts, her cries quickly becoming laughter as she catches a glimpse of her little brother’s face. His usual scowl had become full of anger before flickers of confusion flit across as she laughs.

“I’m sorry, petit oiseau. I’m okay now. I just had a nightmare last night and Dad asked about it.” She explains, knowing that Damian hated being out of the loop.

“Tt. Very well. I was trying to find you to see if you would like to accompany me to the park with Titus. Alfred said that I cannot go alone, and you are the least annoying possible companion.” He says. Marinette smiles. Ever since she’d been hit by the de-aging akuma, Damian had wanted to spend time with her and Titus together. She assumed it was the best way he knew to bond with her without sparring (which her Dad had banned for the moment unless he or Dick were able to supervise, honestly you break one little display case).

“I’d love to. Could we come back to this later?” She asks, glancing at her Dad who had moved to lean against his desk. He sighs, but nods.

“Yes. Keep your phones on, both of you.” He instructs. She nods, grinning before pulling her brother after her. They couldn’t keep Titus waiting, after all.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @stainedglassm @laurcad123 @vixen-uchiha @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

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