#stoicism break

[isamajor]

Whumpril day 21 to 25

More whump drabbles with Skyrim Custom-voiced followers ! :D

21 . « Just hold on. »

It was pouring rain, as if they weren't already wet enough. Wading with difficulty by the light of torches in the Drajkmyr Marsh, the party tried to outrun the hostile fauna who lived here. Night had fallen and there was no suitable surface on which to set up camp, so they were doomed to always move further.

Caryalind's teeth chattered loudly, and his torch flickered, so cold he felt. His thoughts even seemed to freeze in place and his feet moved forward on pure instinct. Taliesin placed his hand on the prince's shoulder.

“Just hold on, your Highness.” (100)

•

22 . Stoicism break

Xelzaz sat alone, hunched over. His body screamed in protest as bruises bloomed across his scales, bones grinding together from fall he suffered a few hours ago. Pride prevented him from showing the extent of his pain, even amongst closest comrades. But each movement, each breathe hurt. Struggling not to betray his agony despite ingesting a numbing potion, Xelzaz maintained a calm demeanor all day. Now, safe within his tent, his defenses lowered and his stoicism dissolved. Sobs rose in his throat. He kept them completely silent, except for sharp inhalations that tore through his chest, the pained moans of which he quickly stifled. (104)

•

23 . Presumed dead

Several had fallen down the mountain, but Lydia had not been found. She did not respond to calls and despite searches, her body was not found. They stayed several days looking for her and waiting for her, but she never came. Xelzaz ended up expressing what everyone was thinking and fearing. "She is probably dead. May she have gone to Sovngarde."

A silence dotted with sad sighs answered him. The mountain was cruel and its frozen slopes dangerous. After a final farewell carried by the wind, and some montain flowers thrown in the abyss, they ended up continuing on their way. (101)

•

24 . No Time to Rest

The exploration of this ruin had been trying and it was with a certain joy that they had come out with the prospect of a well-deserved rest to heal their wounds. But they didn't have time for that. Sensing their weakness, a pack of wolves pounced on them, lips curled. Exhausted, weapons fell heavy in their hands. Kaidan groaned every time he swung his sword. Auri struggled to catch her breath after each shot. Inigo's reflexes were no longer as good. Lucien stayed behind to try to heal his comrades with the little Magicka he had left. Rest had to wait. (104)

•

25 . « Brace yourself. »

“We have no choice, we have to cross.”

Taliesin looked at the Dragonborn in horror, shaking his head. The river was in flood, the bridge could no longer be seen. He wouldn't go any further.

"Without me."

Kaidan sneered. "Brace yourself.", he just had time to say before suddenly grabbing the terrified Mer and throwing him over his shoulder. Without waiting, he entered the river, firmly holding Taliesin who suddenly stopped struggling as soon as the water soaked his robes. With gritted teeth, soaked and terrified, shaking uncontrollably, he clung helplessly to Kaidan, forced to trust in his abilities. (99)

[theminecraftbee]

current hermitcraft star trek AU thoughts: meet some of the crew of the USS Taney (named for a storied US coast guard cutter, for those curious):

chief petty officer joe hills, maintenance chief. it’s my AU and one of the principle characters can be an enlisted sailor instead of a commissioned officer if I want to dammit. spends a LOT of time in jeffries tubes doing essential maintenance and is responsible for a lot if enlisted engineering staff. a betazoid who joined starfleet to see the stars but gets admittedly VERY STRESSED OUT on account of not being great at human social mores, thank god for military formality am I right. well-liked and respected amongst the crew, especially other enlisted sailors but also with commissioned officers. straight-up refuses to use his betazoid abilities for any actual work though because he’s convinced he constantly misinterprets people’s minds. whether or not this is true is… questionable… but he’s maintenance chief not a councilor or something so no one ever actually has real opportunity to call him out on this. well, mostly nobody. except maybe for…

ensign cleo, a former borg drone that was taken prisoner and separated from the hivemind. starfleet has no records of her homeworld or original race and what do you know, she doesn’t know either! thanks, borg, she hates it. took to sarcasm like a duck to water. ended up on the taney because in the early days joe was somehow the person who broke through to her and command is still wary she might regress, even given that she has since passed accelerated academy classes and earned a commission. a security officer and cybersecurity expert (for a given definition of “expert”, given the source of the information). very good at covering insecurities by being Mean. literally everyone who works with her is aware though so literally everyone knows she is Deeply Loyal to the taney’s crew. which is why people keep trying to “helpfully” run interference against starfleet intelligence for her, to her great annoyance, because she actually kind of likes…

commander etho, a vulcan intelligence officer. has had a storied career, meaning people who don’t know much about the intelligence community hate that he’s around, people who do idolize him, and people who know him know he’s just kind of awkward. extremely competent, sure, but awkward. frequently in communication with, traveling on, and otherwise involved with the taney, largely because the taney keeps on somehow tripping over things that should be state secrets and he’s best equipped to clean it up (case in point: cleo). sometimes etho thinks the only way the ship could be more cursed is if they named it enterprise. then he reminds himself that’s an illogical superstition. despite the fact he technically now has a desk job the aforementioned storied career makes him a very competent actual field commander as well, which means he ends up involved in operations whenever he’s on board.

these are the guys I have ideas for so far. still need to think of like. a captain for the ship. most of the senior staff. I just have ideas for this au you know,

[pandoramoments]

Hunter dropped heavily into a seat, ignoring his brothers as they buzzed around behind him... his remaining brothers, that was.

Thoughts of Tech flickered through his mind, his quirky little brother who had worked his way into Hunter's heart not long after he had joined their little group. The members of their group had changed a fair few times in the early months, but the health of the fluctuating members had kept failing. He wasn't sure if Lama Su had been trying to build her own division of defective clones, or if the plan had always been for a smaller force, but once Tech and Wrecker had joined himself and Crosshair, then they had been complete (Echo had joined later, but they'd learnt to work together as though he'd always been one of them... Kriff, Hunter missed having everyone together).

Maybe Omega would know, he mused, his heart lurching as he thought of their little big sister. Finally, a tear began to form in his eye as he allowed himself a moment to acknowledge his grief... everything had fallen apart, and the only good thing was that he had gotten Crosshair back.

Stoicism breaks, he thought bitterly as that one tear began to fall, breaking the dam of his emotions as his breath began to catch and he covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the evidence.

They needed to get Omega back because he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 22 - Stoicism Breaks

I've been threatening to send Mariano to therapy so here we ARE! I reference a little RP I had with @comfy-whumpee that's been swirling in my brain ever since we did it c:<

TWs: self harm mention, suicide mention, anxiety mention, talk of a shooting, talk of captivity, this is real cathartic though I promise it's not bad

Ex-military, spent most of his twenties in foreign federal prison, history of anxiety, suicidal ideation, and self-harm. Stoic, highly traumatized, closed off, slow to open up. Hesitant to talk about intense experiences, needs reassurance. Overly concerned with others' needs.

Mary Barlowe looked over her notes before walking into the latest session with Mariano Cross. He wasn't her most difficult patient to talk to, not by a long shot. She never had to worry about calling security, or convincing him to leave when time was up. He was polite, punctual, and friendly.

But he was challenging in his own way.

He'd had a full decade of people telling him that he was an irredeemable monster, and he'd taken it all very seriously. Discussing anything heavier than everyday troubles was approached with the same caution that stray dogs approached an outstretched hand. He barely seemed to have even a basic connection to his own body or emotions, sounding detached whenever he spoke about them. They were things he needed help with, of course, but it was clear that there were things buried deeper than that.

The small, quick smile he gave her when she entered was a fantastic sign. "Good afternoon, Doctor Barlowe." He was already seated, back straight, both feet flat on the floor, and careful hands folded and resting on his leg.

"Good afternoon, Mariano." She returned the greeting easily, taking her own seat in the comfortable chair opposite his. "You mentioned wanting to talk about something difficult today, did something happen?" She knew the answer to that. He'd missed a few sessions due to being hospitalized from a robbery gone wrong.

He hesitated, dark eyes darting to the table between them. "Yes. I...there was something that happened." He seemed to close in on himself, just so, hands still clasped firmly together. She could feel the tension that crept into his voice. "But I understand if we can't."

There it was, the familiar beginning of withdrawal. "Why wouldn't we be able to talk about it?" She leaned forward, a small smile on her face. She kept her features soft, her posture relaxed. "You're paying to have a space to talk about the difficult things."

"I am, yes." He trailed off, not quite meeting her eye yet. "But it was...graphic. I don't want to overstep. I've accidentally done that before, and I...I don't want to find a new therapist. I like you."

"Oh?" Mary's voice softened. "Mariano, let me reassure you: You are not the first former prisoner I've worked with, or the first soldier. If I need a moment after hearing something then I'll let you know, but you're not going to destroy me by just talking.

"You deserve to feel safe enough to say what's on your mind. I'm sure it gets heavy holding it in, doesn't it?" She saw something in his jaw tense, the hold he had on his own hand growing tighter.

Mariano swallowed, nodding, eyes on the tissue box between them. "...It does. I have dreams about it sometimes."

"I'd imagine so." She said. "What happens in those dreams?"

When Mariano spoke again, his voice was barely louder than a whisper. "I can't call for help after I'm shot, and I wind up dying." He took a deeper breath, the sound just barely trembling. "It always feels...very realistic."

"Were you alone when it happened?" Mariano didn't move. His eyes never left the tissue box. "Mariano?" She had a feeling that he wasn't thinking about whether or not he needed a tissue.

He looked up at her, tension tight around his eyes, jaw set, and shoulders curled in on himself. "I...I don't want to hurt you."

"Have you hurt someone by talking about this before?" She spoke to him like he was backed into a corner, cowering away. He was, in a sense. It was like he was waiting for her to snap at him.

Mariano nodded.

"Can you tell me about it?"

Mariano hesitated, his grip shifting to his own elbows. He looked even smaller in the soft, pale green chair. "One of my friends asked me what happened, and why people weren't applying to the ad we put out for more managers. I said that I got shot during a robbery and almost died, and that it had gotten publicized--I don't think I went into detail, but he said that I...ambushed him?"

Mariano's breath caught. "I don't want to overstep again." He repeated. "He's a therapist and...I tried to keep things civilian friendly. It was why people hadn't been applying, and I tried to keep it brief, I...I don't really know what I did wrong. I didn't want to ask him to explain if I'd already hurt him."

A frown ghosted across Mary's face. "I see. Well, you don't have to worry about that, here. I have my own therapist, and I come to work expecting to hear about hard things."

She pushed the tissues closer, leaning forward to catch Mariano's eye. "And I think that I would've answered similarly, in your shoes. Maybe your friend was just having a hard time himself, and didn't communicate that well.

"But most people wouldn't consider that an ambush, just like you wouldn't consider it one if you asked a friend how they'd been and they said that they'd broken their leg recently, or lost a pet." She smiled softly when Mariano continued looking at her. "I think you'd just consider that surprising and unfortunate."

Mariano's jaw trembled. His eyes shone in the mid-afternoon light that streamed in through the window. "...I would."

"This hour is yours, Mariano. I'm not going to get upset at you." She plucked a few tissues and offered them over. "I've seen you for a while now. You don't have to be vigilant like that with me."

Mariano took them, holding them tight.

"Let me help you set some of that heavy stuff down." Mary offered. "You don't have to hold it all in on your own. You won't hurt me with it. It's safe."

Mariano's shoulders shuddered as he crumbled face-first into the tissues. A sob crawled out of him, escaping into his palms. It sounded agonized, like he'd been holding it in for months.

It was the most emotion he'd shown the entire time she'd known him. "It's okay to let people help you. You don't have to be a one man army anymore."

When Mariano had collected himself again, minutes later, Mary listened as he told her about the night that he almost died.

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper @bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125

[mylonelydreaming]

Man, if Zelda survives totk, those two will never let go of each other ever again huh? Link is gonna be extremely clingy, like glued onto her 24/7. Forget the idea of him being overprotective post botw, imagine post totk

[its-my-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 22

Stoicism breaks

@whumpril

Tw: gore and fight

He was a calm person, nice, a man of little words. He kept to himself, but not in an unsympathic overly pride way. It more seemed, that he was fine with himself, not needing to prove anything, nor to himself, neither to the world around.

He was a tall young man, normally build, even though, one could only guess, under his casual, but professional clothes. His long brown hair usually in a ponytail. Even though his boss didn't like it, he had kindy denied to every cut it or speak about this topic ever again. Their normally chatty boss was muzzled, probably for the first time in his career.

He was treating everybody with kindness and respect, he was a calm person, people liked to be around, mostly in silence.

But some days his knuckles were slightly red, not only his female colleagues recognised. The rumours were going from an allergy to bathing himself in bleach. They repeatedly came to the point, that this even-tempered man was working here for 2 years and yet they knew nothing about his personal life.

Stories, situations and impressions were compared. So someone had seen him vanish in the restroom with a sudden nosebleed, another one had too. Maybe he was fatally ill, but he usually looked too healthy. One or both ears looked slightly swallon some days. Those few days, he was wearing his hair open. The frontdesk lady had added, that his nose must have been broken. Somedays his smooth movements seemed a bit sore. Maybe despite the hours, he was probably working one or more other jobs, people discussed. His clothes were fitting for his job, but nothing fancy. Maybe he had a family or was devorced or needed to pay a loan shark or had a bunch for children.

The speculations were piling up, so that colleagues started to throw him hidden looks and paint their own little colorful picture of who this man really was.

Little did they know.

×××

On a fridaynight Freddy went out with his buddy for some beers and watching an event, his friend kept quiet about. It was a tiny door in some backstreet, even going there felt spooky and kind of illegal. Through a hallway and under the critical eyes of a security guy in front of another door, they entered. It was a large room, bright light in the middle, the audiance was gathering around, the rest only dimly lighted. It must have been a few hundred people, happily cheering and chatting. Everything smelled like beer and smoke. Freddy was a bit smaller than the average, so he needed to pass the crowd to see, what was going on and were his buddy had dragged him. Parts of the audiance were shouting, what sounded like encouragement or disappointment.

"What is this?" Freddy asked his buddy, while a beer was put into his hand. The other man just smiled and started to make their way towards the middle of the room. Freddy followed.

×××

The fist had landed between his ribs and pressed all air out of him with a huff, but he was fast enough to tense his abs, so his opponent's fist must hurt like hell too. Blood was rushing in his ears, his head was spinning a bit, being tightly pressed together by the headguard, but couldn't take all the brunt from the hits he had already caught.

He blocked the next swing to his face by raising his left arm. Sweaty skin and tense muscles of both hit hard against each other. His arm felt numb for a brief second. A second too long and the opponent's other fist smacked against the cushion above his jaw right into his right cheek.

The punch hit hard and fast, it felt like his teeth came lose, when his head was painfully smacked to the side. The impact swiped him of his feet. The bloody taste in his mouth was newly refreshed, as he bite down more on the biting piece.

During his fall, he managed to kick away the other man's shin and both ended up on the matt. His shoulder bumped into the ground and disloged a painful grunt. But the motion of the fall gave him enough to roll to his side and take his rival into a chokehold, wrapping his legs around the bigger man's body. The skin above his shin, where he kicked out the man's leg was dark red already. Both were grunting and struggling. Entangled, they wiggled on the floor for a bit.

Usually, his eyes didn't leave the cage during a fight, but the pair of eyes, that was staring at him from the other side of the fency in fear and disbelive got his attention. They were almost at eyelevel.

×××

Freddy's buddy had dragged him right in front of the brightly enlightened cage in the middle of the room. Every step closer, he started to realise, what kind of an event his friend had lead him to. They found a spot right in front of the fence. "THIS! Is bloodsports!" His buddy happily called out, opening his arms and swinging his beer in a gesture to present the picture in front of them.

Two tall man fighting an ugly sport in a cage. He could only see them from the side. One was a bit more muscular, older, his nose bloody. Red in his face and on his naked chest. Both bodys covered in sweat, he could see tense muscles moving under skin. The bigger guy landed a decent punch between the other one's ribs. Freddy almost jackknifed more than the thinner fighter did. Air audibly left the man's lungs and the grunt was carried over the cheering crowd. The following left block, forearm against forearm looked as if both of those arms should have been broken instantly. But they didn't, the impact only made a strong, hurtful sounding 'thud' and they went on.

The next punch to the thinner, defently a bit younger man, made Freddy actually close his eyes refexively. That definitely hurt, his stomach flipped, but he prayed his eyes open again, just to see them both bump painfully hard into the ground.

How did he do that?

This man's ears must be ringing and he must be seeing starts by that strong hit to his face and yet he made the other one fall as well. The matt on the floor didn't look like it was very comfortable at all, or that it could do more, than to stop their fall, as would do the naked floor.

He was sure the smaller fighter was done, when that big fist made his head snap to the side. But now, there on the floor, he got the upper hand again and wrapped his long legs around the guy, that had at least 15 lbs more muscle than him.

Freddy's reservation and fear were pulled back by curiousety and astonishment. Suddenly he realised something familar in the man's face. The headguard was making it hard to see.

Hah, maybe his colleague had a twin-brother, his head joked silently. This man really looked like him, but never could this fighter and this calm, silent, well-balanced man from work.... their eyes met through wire-mesh.

The recognition in the other man's eyes was all what he needed to confirm. Freddy just stared into Andrew's eyes, not believing that this fighter, covered in blood and sweat, holding an even bigger man in a chockhold on the ground, could ever be his colleague from work, professionally dressed, kindly refusing to participate in a lunchbreak with the others. Never!

Andrew's eyes lit up and his lips parted a bit, revealing a bloody biting piece and an disturbingly happy and confident smile as he saw Freddy.

"Holy fucking hell!" Freddy yelled out, as his head finally pitched it together. "RIGHT! He's a beast, isn't he!" His buddy laught at Freddy.

"Yeah and an account."

My masterlist

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 22: Stoicism Breaks

A/N: Ren is a character I created for Febuwhump here.

CW: emotional whump, captivity

Human weapons aren’t allowed to have feelings. But as Ren stands in front of Jude’s suspended body, he feels himself breaking. His own body, though now a weapon, is still partly human. And the sight floods him with emotions that threaten to drown him.

Cold, greenish light illuminates Jude’s outstretched arms, his colorless, dead-looking skin, the thick vines wrapped tight around his torso and limbs like a monstrous snake. He hangs in place, limp, unresponsive.

And it’s all Ren’s fault. Ren’s fault that Jude was captured in the first place. Ren’s fault that he didn’t arrive in time to save his teammate. No, his friend. Human weapons aren’t allowed to have friends either, but as Ren sinks to his knees, shattered, the truth presses in on him as if he too were being strangled by those unearthly vines.

For some reason, he has friends. And his existence could get them all killed.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Getting Stabbed Hurts, Who'd have thought? (Magician's Bait, Part 6)

Whumpril Day 22 (Stoicism Breaks), Day 27 ("Please don't go")

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

first part | <- previous part

TW: stab wounds, stitches mention, disorientation, death mention, burns mention, dizziness

Context: Reese wakes up after passing out to find Luc binding her wounds. Damian is okay (for now).

-----

Reese’s head pounded like her skull was being used as a child’s drum set. Everything else was numb, but her head spun even before she opened her eyes. She lay face down, head resting against something hard and cold. Her arms were limp at her sides, and her left side throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

She lethargically turned her head and stared blankly ahead, prodding her tired mind to focus on her surroundings. The catacomb entrance… I’m at the catacomb entrance. We made it out… but how…?

Two people were seated on the ground opposite her, a woman with curly red hair pulled back into a braid and a man with wavy black hair. Both were facing away from her, and the woman was… painting the man’s arm?

Caiya… that’s Caiya Ebony. She must be painting healing runes of some sort. And he’s the prince. Why had it taken her so long to realize—?

“Reese?”

She blinked, eyes flicking to her left, where she found Luc. He knelt at her side, pressing something onto her back. Bandages?

Luc’s smile looked forced. “How… how are you feeling?”

She groaned softly. “Remind me… never get into a knife fight with a magician. Never again.”

“The wound looks worse than it is,” he said softly, “I had to give you emergency stitches. We would’ve gotten you some healing runes too, but, y’know….”

“How’d you spin that to Caiya?”

Luc scowled. “She hasn’t stopped fussing over His Highness since he dragged you out of the tunnel. You were both in pretty bad shape, he’s malnourished and weakened, but you were the one who was unconscious. He tried to get her to help you first, if it helps.”

Reese made to push herself upright, but Luc stopped her. “Hold on, let me help you.” He slowly lifted her from the ground and propped her against a nearby wall. “I need to finish tying your bandages, and then we can get you something to prevent infection.”

She hissed through her teeth at a sudden spike of pain from the wound in her back. “Do you have anything that can stop the pain?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already given you.”

Silence presided between them for a few minutes while Luc wound the bandages around Reese’s torso. She listened idly to snatches of the conversation between Damian and Caiya while ignoring the throbbing in her head and the twinging in her back.

“I told you, Caiya,” Damian said patiently, “she said her name was Natali Tallis.”

“And need I tell you,” Caiya snapped, “that ‘Natali Tallis’ died nearly a decade ago? Her body was burned and mangled almost beyond recognition due to a backfire in her rune structure.”

Damian sighed and took a cautious sip of water. “But can you deny that the description matches? Is it possible that she faked her death somehow?”

Caiya froze mid-stroke, her brush dripping ink onto the ground. She flicked her wrist, finishing the rune with a quick and precise stroke before putting the brush away with a huff. “I was there, Your Highness. I was the one who had to check her pulse to declare if she was dead.” 

She exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Now can you see why I find it so hard to believe she had lived?”

Damian stared at her for a long moment. He took a deep breath and glanced at the rune she’d drawn on his forearm. The cuts left on his wrist from the rough ropes had closed, leaving only faint scars. “Who’s to say she died from the knife to the heart, then?”

Impossible.

Luc glanced over at the pair. “Should we go and check, if you’re not certain?”

“I don’t know,” Damian said softly, “you never really know with Stalkers, do you—?”

“It’s not possible,” Reese stated.

“But—”

“It’s not!” she snapped, wincing. “I stabbed her through the heart, yes. But any healing runes she might have used, written or spoken, would not have worked. She wounded me with the knife first. I then pierced her heart using the same knife. That knife was dripping with my own blood. It would have weakened, if not completely nullified her magic. She didn’t survive.”

Damian nodded in understanding, but Caiya frowned in confusion.

“Was that why you got stabbed?!” Luc hissed under his breath as he tied the loose ends of the bandages together, securing the binding.

“You think I meant to get stabbed?”

“I seem to recall our first lesson being ‘Don’t Get Stabbed, Reese’.”

Reese snorted and immediately regretted it. “Ow….”

Luc slowly rose to his feet, the concern evident on his face. “Do you think you can stand? We should get you home.”

She stared at him for a long moment before seizing his arm and hauling herself up, ignoring the way the wound in her back throbbed as she moved the damaged muscles. Her head spun, and Reese tightened her grip on Luc’s arm even as he grabbed her shoulder to stabilize her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, “I’ve been through worse.”

He sighed. “If you really think you’re alright, I should escort the prince home before anything else happens.”

Reese blinked. “I….”

Luc started to step away, but she stopped him. “Please… please don’t go and leave me alone.”

“You sure? Because if you’re not feeling up to it I can—”

“I’m sure.” She took a step forward, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth. “I just… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be left alone.”

Luc nodded in understanding. “Of course. I can have an experienced doctor reevaluate your stitches at the palace.” He smiled reassuringly. “Not that I don’t trust my own work… but I have to admit my hands were shaky.”

Damian rose to his feet, Caiya quickly following suit. He joined them near the wall, absently rubbing at the scars on his wrists. The ink on his arm was fading as the magic did its work. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I can take on a sang with nothing but my bare hands,” Reese said sarcastically.

He grinned. “I’d like to see that fight.”

Luc made a face. “I wouldn’t. But my money’s on the sang.”

“It’s your money,” Damian said, chuckling. “Your apprentice fought well against Natali, despite the injury. You should be very proud.”

Reese held up a hand. “Uh… I’m not his apprentice.” She glanced at Luc. “Right?”

The Watcher raised his eyebrows in an expression of reluctant agreement. “Well… he’s not wrong… and I might’ve slipped a few of Hector’s lessons into our training sessions… wasn’t on purpose, I swear!”

She punched him in the shoulder. “I’m sure Father’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“Celestials, he’s gonna kill me when he finds out about what I asked you to do.”

Reese shrugged. “Hey, I agreed to do it. Just tell him I volunteered so he blames me rather than you. But the Watcher’s apprentice thing? Dunno.”

Luc sighed through his nose. “Let’s burn that bridge when it comes to it, okay? Right now we need to be getting somewhere safer than just outside the catacombs.”

Damian nodded. “Of course, Watcher.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @whumpril

Thank you for reading this whump ficlet! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :3

[thesovereignsring-if]

To add to that post about MC sending letters to Sieghardt, I imagine him visiting the palace for the first time in a while and a now teenaged MC gets so excited they show him all the letters he's sent their way over the years. I imagine his writing is somewhat impersonal when it comes to MC, and I imagine that eats him up inside. So to see MC hang on to everything he wrote them would probably knock him to his knees with emotion lmao

You guys need to stop!!

I’m going throw uppp ( * ಥ ⌂ ಥ * ).

He would feel bad because he does write like a soldier (he has the charisma of a rock lmaoo) and that’s why the next time he shows up with canary as a gift for the MC!! *throwing up* (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) to show he really cares. ༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 22 Stoicism Breaks

for day 22 of whumpril

Familiar faces, Set episode 10 of season 3 Originals, before this days 16, 18 and 27 of febuwhump and Day 18 Broken Glass

Elijah miscalculates, Tristan wins and Elias is confused.

----

Elijah felt a wave of unease as he felt a sudden weight of magic fall upon him; he knew he let something show past his mask as he noticed the way Tristan’s eyes lit up before he closed his eyes in an automatic attempt to shake off the sudden weight.

—-

Elijah opened his eyes wondering when he closed it until instead of the cemetery and Tristan’s smug face he found himself staring at a white ceiling.

One he knew.

No! he swallowed, slowly shifting his body, twisting his wrists against the restraints; the padded cuffs, hearing the metal bed frame crack under him, feeling the thin white blanket through the thin equally white scrubs that patients who couldn’t be trusted to follow the rule were left to wear.

EJ hadn’t worn them for years when he made his escape attempt, he had been so careful to follow the rules until he found an opening, he waited for years just too make sure it wouldn’t be caught before it was too late if they realised his plans.

It felt too real but it couldn’t be.

Still he remembered the itchy feeling of the fabric, the panic it used to cause him even in the life that followed and why mum and dad always made sure to get Elijah the softest clothes they could. 

“Oi, Coma boy’s awake!” a loud voice shouted, he turned his head to see another man in similar clothes.

Benny, the one who had told him how to hotwire a car once when Elijah was bored, Elijah had forgotten the greys in his hair and the timber of his voice but now it was so clear.

This wasn’t real, it was a dream, a memory of the past it had to be.

But Elijah had never been admitted to the medical ward for injures to his wrists before until his escape.

“Oh! you're awake,” the nurse smiled at him, one of those that had known EJ before he had chosen that name, “your cousin will be pleased.” 

“Cousin?” the word came from him without his plan, this wasn’t real, he wanted it to stop.

“Mr Salvatore.” she answered with a flicker of concern.

Zee? He thought with a flicker of hope, No! He shook his head, he had died, he escaped, he was Elijah Gilbert, he remembered everything, he was Elijah Mikaelson.

EJ Salvatore died.

He couldn’t do this again, couldn't take being trapped and imprisoned anymore.

Knowing that didn’t make any of this feel any less real, didn’t help the growing panic and desperation.

Not this, please.

“He’s been very consistent, calling every few days.” She continued blind to Elijah’s growing distress.

“Yeah, even visited a few times, thinking he’d get bored after the third month.” Benny added nodding.

“Month? How long have i- what's the date?” he changed his question mid way through, a pit growing in his stomach.

“22nd of June 1992.” she said the date as if it was just another day.

No, that was his and Elena’s birthday, he couldn’t be here, he was meant to be getting his parents.

“Fine, Tristan.” he sighed heavily clawing for his control, ignoring the two people who weren’t real, who couldn’t be.  “you win, release me.” he called towards the white ceiling he hates.

“Tristan? Whose that?” The nurse asked, looking as if she wasn’t trying to remember if there was another patient with that name.

“Ah!” Benny let out a noise of amusement, “I heard about people living their whole lives in their coma, is that what you were doing? Come one EJ share with us-” the rest of his word vanished under the loud beat of Elijah’s heart, it felt like a hole opened up in his chest as the idea settled.

It would make sense a world where he had a loving pair of parents, where his dreams were real and he wasn’t insane, where Zee and him were close, where he was one of the strongest being around, where he was helpless, imprisoned for his own good, relying on medication to keep him from breaking apart.

No that wasn’t true, it was real, this wasn’t, he shook his head, but the hand that touch his skin felt real, warm alive

He died, he escaped, this can’t be real.

No No No, the word repeated around his head as he denials failed to help him calm down not this, not here, not again

His calm and control shattered.

“LET ME OUT!” he screamed.

—

Tristan will treasure the memory of Elijah's face as he notices the spell moments too late, the flicker of annoyance giving way to a second of fear before Elijah closed his eyes and Elias opened his eyes to stare back at Tristan.

“Sir?” his pet asked.

“Elias.” he smiled “How are you feeling?” he questioned as he reached out for the boy.

“Confused” the boy admitted, leaning into the touch while looking around them, “where are we?”

Tristan kept his smiled up as he started to lead him away, he had some time before he would visit the wolves and collect his message for Klaus, time to enjoy reconnecting with his pet, to watch as his Elias stripped out of the suit Elijah Mikaelson dressed in that morning.

—-

Elias kept his questions to himself after Mr Martel didn’t explain where they were, instead he lean into him and looked around at the new place, new city, as he ignored the screaming pleas echoing around his head.

[cynicalone94]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 16

Coughing Fit

Read on AO3 here.

A routine interview turns ugly with a fine misting of white powder. What is the powder and will Jay survive it's effects?

To be continued on Day 22 - Stoicism Breaks

@whumpril

[cryptidcheese]

My thoughts on the Stoic Seneca and on taking showers

[septic-skele]

@whumpril Day 22: Stoicism Breaks

“This isn’t right. How long have you been working sick, telling no one? A week?” Two of Muffet’s hands clenched around Grillby’s nearest while another, gloved for safety, cupped his face.

“…Customer…satisfaction first…” Through the heat mirage of his fever, he could still see the flash of indignation in Muffet’s eyes.

“So health and safety come last? Forgive my mention of water but you cannot pour from an empty cup! You know this!” Biting her lower lip, she glanced away. “Or maybe I shouldn’t have been stupid enough to trust that you did.”

Not indignation; hurt.

A flare of guilt to top off the embarrassment, the full-body exhaustion…A sudden, sharp hiccup of sparks escaped him. Shuddering, he pressed his free hand to his mouth to stifle the next but it wouldn’t stave off the steam hissing down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetspark…It’s alright, let it out. It’s just you and me.”

[capn-liz]

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry we’re sorry gods I’m so fucking sorry we couldn’t stop him I’m sorry

It's fine. It's fine. It soooo fine. I'm fine doesnt.matter anymore cause im gonna fix this it'll be better he'll remember and everything is going to be okay I have it under control like I always do because I'm calm and collected and going to be smart about this and I'm going to bring Chip back to normal

[untitledgoosegay]

gender failure plays a large role in dimitri's narrative; i wouldn't call him gnc but i think he'd be much happier if he was allowed to be

[ruakichan]

Some late night, meandering thoughts, but humor me for a moment:

Izanagi said the ending to the Takamagahara arc has played out numerous times, and that Susabi has already visited many worlds in his search for the one where no one is sacrificed.

Obviously, that means Susabi has witnessed that ending many, many times--reflecting Susanoo's own journey to find the scenario which would save humanity a millennia ago--but recall Susabi's words that he would remain with Susanoo until the end. Now think of it in the full context of witnessing this same end over and over. Even when Susabi knows that a particular world and timeline would end the way it has thousands of times before , he remains steadfast with open eyes as witness, refusing to turn away (mirroring what he told Miketsu when they were seeing the Execution Ground in the past during the Final Advent event). He will remain with Susanoo until the literal end. Every. Single. Time. No matter the despair, pain, or weariness.

Tangentially (and less shippy goggles lol), while Amaterasu and Susanoo were both greatly influenced by Izanagi to shape them into compassionate beings, Susabi's contact with Izanagi is almost nil. His initial questioning about the immutability of destiny was already there at his birth, though almost immediately suppressed, but then brought out again by Susanoo's beliefs (as formed under Izanagi's guidance and the kindness of humans). I have to wonder if Izanagi delayed Susabi's birth intentionally... or even, if we really want to get deep into theorycrafting about this, Susabi delayed his own birth as the one who oversees reincarnation, as part of his search for the world where no one is sacrificed. (Who came first, Smolsabi or Susabi?!)

Even more an aside to that, I like to think Susabi does meet Izanagi again in Yomi-no-Kuni, as that is where the Torrents of Destiny flows. They might have a more personal talk; Izanagi absolutely would tease him more mercilessly than Susanoo would. and give ssb the shovel talk cause it's obvious ssn is izanagi's favorite

All of this to say is that Susabi has one hell of an iron will. Not that any of the Divine Children are less driven, but of the three, he has been an unyielding pillar, only losing himself during his orokana ningen period. (Which I like to imagine him having a lot of inner conflict over, as Susanoo greatly loves humans, and a betrayed Susabi questions why Susanoo died for such ungrateful beings. But that's another take for another day.)

(wild tangent but since we're already here, i want to know about that first time amaterasu went to sleep and had to be awakened by suzuhikohime in her old incarnation, as ssn said she woke up as a different person. at first i thought this was when she stripped herself of her sins, but her event showed that happened when she banished izanami, and i feel like ssn wasn't born yet? timeline seems fuzzy here)

... Anyhoooooooo did you know I didn't like Susabi at first and had no idea what his appeal was and why he was popular? Now I'm lying here losing sleep thinking about this deity with terrible fashion and ridiculous hair.