honestly, this phrase has been on my mind more times than i can count. i've kidnapped it, taken it as a hostage with no ransom money because i need it to live permanently in my head.
“It’s so loud in here. I think I’m just about ready to go. What do you say, Whumpee? Want to sneak out early?”
“Don’t touch me!”
“Woah, hey, I’m sorry. Did something… Oh. Okay, I get it. Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I can hear you. I can hear everything in the place. It’s so loud. So—so loud.”
“I know it is. I’m going to get you out of here, but I need you to hold onto my shirt. Okay? I won’t touch you. I just want to get you somewhere quiet where you can breathe.”
“I can, I can breathe. I can. I- okay. I can’t, I—”
“Stay close, Whumpee. I won’t let you get lost again.”
Caretaker is two steps ahead. Maybe... three? Whumpee has no idea. Everything is blurry, Whumpee feels way too dizzy. Exhausted, a blow to the head... a bad mixture of everything, really.
"Stop," Whumpee croaks as Caretaker is out of sight, the other taking some time to return and help them to not collapse to the ground.
Why are there two caretakers? Furrowing their brows in confusion, Whumpee blinks their tired eyes, trying to discern who to touch, their hand flailing a little. Caretaker takes it in theirs, softly stroking their thumb over Whumpee's hand.
"You're here... twice."
Caretaker snorts. "Four hands are better than two. Come, up with you."
Caretaker ran ahead of Team. They made sure Whumper wasn’t home before rushing in, the rest of the team clearing the house while Caretaker ran downstairs to the basement; to Whumpee.
They flicked on the light as they reached the bottom and gasped. Whumpee was chained to the back wall. Her arms were spread wide to her sides, shackled at the wrists while a thick metal band was wrapped around her throat. She was in scraps of clothing. Her bralette and what looked like boxer shorts.
She didn’t lift her head when the lights flickered. Fear grabbed Caretaker’s throat and forced their limbs forward, mumbling Whumpee’s name. “No, no, no. Whumpee, please… please don’t be dead.”
Caretaker grabbed her cheeks in his hands, lifting her heavy head. God she was so much skinnier than last time he saw her… what did— Whumper would pay for what he did to her. Caretaker would make sure he’d suffer.
Whumpee moaned. Caretaker’s heart fluttered in his chest and he gasped. “Whumpee, hey,” he said softly. “Whumpee it’s me. It’s Caretaker.”
Whumpee opened her eyes. For a moment she stared at him as if he were a ghost. Then recognition flashed across her eyes. “It’s me,” Caretaker continued. “I’m here with team. We’re here to rescue you.”
Whumpee’s eyes widened with fear. “No! No! NO! NO!” Whumpee screamed, thrashing in her restraints. “No! NO! NO! NO! I WAS GOOD! I WAS GOOD! PLEASE YOU PROMISED!”
Caretaker grabbed her, trying to still Whumpee’s jerking movements that looked painful. Whumpee’s head shot forward, neck straining as she gnashed her teeth at Caretaker going to bite him.
“YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T MAKE ME SEE THEM ANYMORE, PLEASE WHUMPER! PLEASE!” She wailed like a banshee. “I was good! I was good. I have been so good. I obeyed. I followed the rules. Why?! Why! Why! WHY! WHY!”
“Whumpe—”
Rage contorted Whumpee’s red face. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” She roared. Then she started growling and snapped her head back against the concrete wall of the basement. Caretaker lurched forward, putting a hand between her head and the wall.
“GET AWAY! GET AWAY!” She didn’t stop trying to slam her head against the wall. She was acting like a wild animal, thrashing in the chains that held her firm.
“Caretaker?” Leader asked as he descended the steps. He paused when his eyes found Whumpee. Caretaker turned his pleading gaze to Leader.
“Help me! I don’t know what he did. She— she… she doesn’t think it’s real. That we’re… actually here.”
Whumpee slackened when she saw Leader. All of a sudden her fight left her and she went boneless in the chains. Leader stepped in cautiously, a warm smile on his face.
“Hey, Whumpee. You remember me?”
“I was good,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t. I was good. I’ll be good. I’ll be… I’ll be better I promise.”
“Whumpee, it’s Leader,” Caretaker said, but Whumpee trembled in her chains. Tears welled behind her eyes as she kept her head bent. Submissive.
“Please. I was good. I’ll be good, Whumper, please.”
Leader and Caretaker froze. “Whumper… please stop. I can’t see them. I can’t see Caretaker, please, I was good.”
Rogue barrelled down the steps. “Guys, what’s the hold up?”
She was walking towards Whumpee before Whumpee could cry out or protest. She lifted her hands to the chains and they burned a radioactive red, melting the chains that held Whumpee to the wall. First on her hands and then the one with the collar around her neck.
Rogue looked at Caretaker pointedly. “Well? Grab her and let’s go.”
Whumpee looked up with wide eyes. “W-what?” Her hands fell heavy to her sides, slapping against her thighs. She glanced at Leader. “What’re you doing? Stop it! You— you never made them free me.”
“Whumpee, I’m not Whumper,” Leader said, his voice thicker than before.
“Don’t— Stop them! No! Get off ME!” Whumpee screamed as Caretaker picked her up bridal style. She thrashed in his hold, but he held her firm as she squirmed.
“Stop! STOP! NO! WHUMPER I DON’T WANT THIS! I DON’T— I’M SORRY!” She screamed as Caretaker walked past Leader and took to the stairs.
Leader stood frozen, staring at the place Whumpee was. Whumper had… Whumper had made her think that Leader was… Leader was him? A hand on his shoulder startled him and he glanced up to see Rogue, her face impassive but he could sense her unease.
“We’ll get her back, Leader. We’ll undo what Whumper did to make her think that you… are a threat.”
“I…” Leader began, but words caught in his throat. What could he even say?
“Come on,” Rogue said, turning him and pushing him ahead of her to the stairs. “Everything will be fine. We have her now. She’s safe.”
Leader couldn’t stop the knot of dread tying itself in his gut. Whumper would… he tightened his hands into fists and took a deep breath.
No. First, get Whumpee better. Then… then they can get revenge.
It’s almost impossible to hear Shayah’s words over the roar of wind and screeching of monsters. Onthyes looks over at her and is smacked in the face by a leathery wing. He’s not quite sure what these things are - bats from hell, maybe. Each one about the length of his arm, equipped with sharp fangs and claws and huge wings.
He cuts the bat out of the air with a swing of his sword, just in time to catch sight of Shayah going down under a pile of them. He rushes towards her, only to be blocked off by three more, crowding him and gnashing their teeth.
“Cover your ears!”
Onthyes has fought by Ventis’s side long enough to do so without asking questions. He freezes, dropping his sword, clamping his hands over his ears, and getting low to the ground. He hopes Shayah is able to do the same.
Even with his ears covered, the sound is deafening. Onthyes opens his eyes, squinting against blinding purple light as a storm explodes from Ventis’s body. Lightning arches out from him at all angles, leaping from bat to bat as they scramble, slamming into each other blindly and clawing at their own ears. There’s a series of thawcks as they fall to the ground, and then silence.
Onthyes stands and collects his sword, his ears ringing. He goes to Shayah first, praying that Ventis had been able to intervene before the bats tore her throat out.
She’s already sitting up, and Onthyes lets out a sigh of relief. She’s covered head to toe in scratches and her ears are bleeding, but nothing seems leathal.
“I’m alright,” she says before Onthyes can even ask. “Nice one, breezy. Didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Me neither…”
Onthyes turns sharply, concerned at the weakness in Ventis’s voice, just in time to watch him fall to the ground.
Shayah curses in orcish as Onthyes dashes to his side, collecting his limp body from the pile of bodies he had landed on and holding him in his lap.
Ventis’s face is pale, his eyes fluttering and barely open, his nose starting to leak blood.
“Ventis.” Onthyes cups his cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “Can you hear me?”
His brow scrunches and he lets out a low groan. “So tired…”
Onthyes would rather see him exhausted than injured any day. “I’m sure you are, my friend. That was impressive.”
“Mmm. Thanks.” His eyes fall closed completely.
Onthyes presses his fingers to Ventis’s pulse, just to be sure. It’s weak but still there.
“Just sleep,” he says softly, using the already red sleeve of his shirt to wipe blood from under Ventis’s nose. “We’ve got you.”
As Grian woke up the next morning, he was hounded by a headache and a swirling in his stomach. The feeling wasn’t common, but it was familiar.
He’d been overusing his magic.
The week had brought a particularly terrible bout of dysmorphia, and he’d been using his magic to do what he could and have some semblance of comfort in his own body, even though it barely ever worked.
He kept his shields up all day from the first time he looked in the mirror in the morning to when he inevitably passed out at night, lost in his own thoughts, and it was now Thursday. He thought maybe he could let himself relax today, that maybe today would be a good day, but he knew he was lying.
When he stepped out of bed, the nauseous feeling in his stomach got worse for a moment before calming, and really, he knew that he shouldn’t use his magic at all today, but one look in the mirror that sat in front of his bed told him that’d be impossible.
He had schol to attend, and even though he knew it’d be more than easy to just skip his few classes that day, the last thing he wanted was to somehow get behind.
He kept staring in the mirror at himself, and if the magic nausea was bad, looking at himself made it all worse.
It was all wrong.
He knew that whoever was in the reflection was supposed to be him. It had to be him. It moved like he did. It opened its mouth when he did. It ran its hands across his legs when he did and moved fingers through its hair when he did.
But it couldn’t be him.
It didn’t look like him. It didn’t feel like him. It couldn’t be him.
He hated what he saw in the reflection.
He hated that he knew that was him.
He hated that he must look so weird and wrong to everyone else.
He hated how tight his skin felt when he looked in the mirror.
He hated how his hair seemed to be plastered his scalp because he couldn’t remember that last time he showered.
He hated it all.
So he pushed through the headache and nausea and put up his magic walls that prevented his reflection from showing to his own eyes and stopped anyone from perceiving his own body.
They could still see him, but any thoughts that popped up in their mind or even his mind about it were swept away.
The sick feeling throughout his body seemed to increase tenfold, and he almost collapsed from it for a moment, but he pushed through. He needed to get to the meetup spot with Scar before going to class.
As he got ready, he was relieved to see his magic still working and stopping the mirror from reflecting anything about him, and he was relieved to not think any thoughts about himself. His mind was on his schooling and his schooling only.
When he headed off to class, he grabbed an iced coffee and chugged it as fast as possible. He wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, not wanting to spend money that way, but if he was going to be dealing with the side effects of constant glamour, the last thing he needed was to be tired on top of it.
He met up with Scar at their usual place to walk to their building together. Scar’s class didn’t start for another hour after Grian’s today, but the seating area was very comfortable and he didn’t mind the extra time to work on some homework before his class.
Of course Scar would be the one to notice something was off.
“Are you okay, Grian?” he asked lightheartedly, though concern laced his tone. “You seem a bit up in the clouds today, more than usual.”
Grian just laughed it off. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, just haven’t been uh- haven’t been sleeping very well this week, you know how it is.”
Scar seemed slightly doubtful, but he didn’t press it.
When they arrived at the building, they split, Grian making his way to his lecture hall and Scar getting comfortable in the seating area until his class.
The architecture lecture seemed to fly past, and Grian was certain he didn’t take anything from it, too distracted by pushing his magic out to everyone in the hall and his subsequent headache to pay any attention. Logically, he knew they were all too focused on the professor to be looking at him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all staring. That they all had their own opinions on the weird and wrong body he saw every morning. So he kept using his magic to remove any perception they had on him. He didn’t even exist to them here.
It took everything in him to not pass out during the lecture, eyes half-lidded and vision unfocused, but an hour later, Grian was brought back to reality by the sounds of everyone putting things in their bags and chairs sliding across the floor.
With an internal groan, Grian winced as he got up from his chair and slung his bag over his shoulder. Even if it was only an hour, it was an hour spent pushing his magic on everyone in the room and ensuring they didn’t know he was there. Combined with having been doing this for almost the entire week, things didn’t seem to be going well.
He slowly made his way back to the seating area where he’d be meeting up with Scar again soon enough after his lecture, and he wasn’t focused on anything but the ground in front of his feet the entire short walk there.
“Grian!” a voice called, and he sluggishly raised his head, surprised to see Mumbo there.
His first class today was on the other side of campus, why was he here?
Mumbo seemed to read his mind as he approached, pulling the two of them toward a couch to sit down on.
“Scar seemed a bit worried about you and told me to make sure you got out of your class alright,” Mumbo explained. “You look about ready to fall asleep on your feet, what’s going on, mate? I’ve seen you pull all-nighters before, you’re not usually like this.”
Grian didn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes and instead stared forward at the glass, realizing with horror that he could see his reflection. That he could see the thing trying to be him that wasn’t him in the slightest. That he could perceive his own body.
And if he could think about it, then that meant everyone else could too.
Pushing through the headache that threatened to overtake him, he spread his magic to his own mind and Mumbo’s and anyone else in the area, wanting to stop their stares and their thoughts about him—he wasn’t meant to be perceived.
Suddenly, he was being shaken, and he realized he’d closed his eyes.
Mumbo was in front of him, looking at him with deep concern, and he could see that the other was trying to say something, but the ringing in his ears blocked it out. Black spots were beginning to overtake his vision, and he could feel his pounding headache throughout his entire body.
Careening forward, he felt Mumbo’s arms hold him tight before he was out like a broken lightbulb.
Eos’s ever-present warmth has faded, leaving the Paladin chilled and weak after expending so much power to protect Valerie. The Prince is sitting in front of him in Rumble’s saddle, constantly twisting to make sure his sunshine is still alert and awake as they seek shelter.
It’s when Valerie points out an old shrine that Eos finally sags, the relief at the idea of safety draining the last of his strength. Valerie gasps as there’s sudden weight on his back, and he braces himself against Rumble’s shoulders. “Rumble, stop,” he says, straining to keep Eos from complete collapse.
The steer does as bid, huffing in concern and trying to twist his head to check on his master. Eos’s skin is ashen, clammy with sweat, and his eyelids are flickering. “Eos, let me–just a moment–” Valerie carefully works his way out from under his beloved, climbing out of the saddle to allow Eos to fully slump forward. “It’s alright,” Valerie says, reaching out to hold him steady while Rumble picks up the pace towards the shrine. “I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”
Ella’s hands were shaking. Shaking so much that she pressed them together and shoved them between her thighs and suddenly the shaking went up to her forearm and shoulder and it was like her entire being was shaking like a leaf.
She was so disoriented - please, I don’t want to die, please, please - that Eleanor didn’t see the white lights of a car get closer. The car parked a couple meters from her and Archer jumped out. He was speaking, but the ringing in her ears was so loud that she didn’t hear anything.
His face was suddenly before hers, he was crouched on the gravel and his dark brows were nearly meeting. Archer said something again, shaking her slightly and Ella snapped out of it.
“Arch?”
She had no idea why he was there, how had he known she was in distress and needed him desperately. His frown melted in a relieved smile.
“Hi, duckling” He breathed out, smiling and stroking her face “You’re with me?”
“What- What are you doing here?” Ella asked, blinking rapidly and looking around. They were in the middle of nowhere, a road that had no cars passing, only weeds and grass growing in its sides. And her hands were covered in blood.
She frowned, looking at them puzzled and rubbed her index finger against her thumb, feeling the slimy, sticky texture of the drying blood “What happened…?” Ella repeated, voice barely above a whisper.
“You tell me” Archer said, moving to sit next to her and putting a hand on her back “You called me completely out of it thirty minutes ago”
“I didn’t, I-” She trailed off, unable to think. Her thoughts were wrapped in a thick fog and as she tried to produce answers, all she got was a headache. She felt Archer scoot closer, his hand rubbing circles on her back.
Ella could feel the warmth radiating from him, sipping through the thin material of her black top and making her shiver. She slumped against him, pressing her eyes closed and suddenly she was falling. Falling, falling, falling…
Ariel had dropped her off at the side of the road, looking annoyed he had been designated to drive her anywhere at all. Ella hadn’t thanked him as she jumped off the vehicle and he hadn’t apologized about dropping her off a couple miles away from the nearest bus station. He hadn’t smiled or even looked her way before driving back to the Coven.
Her first instinct had been to call Archer to come get her, but Ella wasn’t feeling well after a long night of using her powers and being pushed and prodded by the members of the Coven, and she had - erroneously - assumed a walk might help her headache and queasiness.
Then there was a metal crash. Deep, gut churning noise that made her freeze on her spot, watching the tragedy unfold right before her eyes. A truck hitting straight on a motorcycle.
“Please, I don’t want to die, I don’t wannadieIdon’twannadieIdon’t-”
“El?” Archer called, squeezing her shoulders and she pitched forward with a gurgling gag, hugging her middle with an arm and trying to catch her breath. Her head was pounding and the ringing in her ears had gotten loud again.
Archer cursed softly above her head, grabbing all of her black hair in one of his hands and keeping it off her face, his other hand still running up and down her spine.
Ella groaned, the nausea so fierce that she couldn’t close her mouth. The remnants of her lunch were swirling in her stomach, thick ropes of saliva dripping from her open mouth on the asphalt. She could taste the meat of her burger again. She had asked for a rare burger and was now regretting it. The after taste of blood was coating her tongue and she gagged again, unproductively.
“That’s it…” Archer said, rubbing her back “Don’t fight it, baby…”
“I-” She was interrupted by a gurgle from her belly and Ella groaned out loud, resting her hand over her small tummy. It was bloated, gurgling angrily under her hand. Archer pressed his lips to her temple and Ella knew she was burning up a fever from how cold his lips felt, suddenly.
“Shhh- Don’t try to talk, duckling-”
She spat again, before reaching behind her and grabbing the hand he was rubbing her back with and placing it over her tummy. Archer’s large palm covered all of its extension and he nodded in understanding, gently rubbing it back and forth.
It wasn’t helping at all, his hand too gentle, avoiding putting any pressure on her.
Ella hiccuped and groaned loudly, shaking her head in a weak attempt to clean it.
“Gon’ be sick…” She slurred, grabbing a handful of her boyfriend’s shirt as a cramp wreaked through her. Archer nodded and stroked her stomach, probably feeling it’s angry gurgling.
“It’s okay, baby, just let it out… You’ll feel better-"
Ella gagged, once unproductively and then again, bringing up a mouthful of chunky vomit. Archer was right, she thought deliriously, she really had to start chewing better
“There you go” He said somewhere above her head and she put her hand over his, on her stomach, pressing down on it and forcing up another wave of her lunch.
The brunette gasped for air, slumping forward and only Archer’s open hand in her chest kept her from falling on the puddle of her own mess. He looked at her worriedly, keeping her hair carefully out of her face.
“Better?”
Ella nodded, sniffling and slumped against him “There was a car crash…” She mumbled, sounding drunk, but lucid “A motorbike hit straight with a truck… The truck driver didn’t stop…” She burped queasily, putting a hand over her mouth and wiping off the clinging chunks to her chin “And I- I couldn’t let the biker die…”
“You healed them,” Archer concluded, holding her tighter. He knew about her powers, but he didn’t know the extension of them. Having his girlfriend bring back a person from Death’s doorstep was terrifying. It was also no surprise it was taking a toll on her body.
“I think so…” Ella cried and he enveloped her in a hug, picking her up bridal style and carrying her back to the car “I don’t know what happened… I don’t know how I did it…”
“It’s okay” He said, although he didn’t feel calm. Those powers were overwhelming and without control she’d end up hurting herself or someone else. The Coven visits didn’t seem to be helping her at all.
“Arch-”
“Shhh” He buckled her seat belt and kissed her forehead “We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling well again, duckling.”
“You’re not mad at me?” Eleanor whispered pathetically, head lolling to the side and resting against the window while her boyfriend circled the car and got on the driver’s side.
“I’m not angry with you… What you did was amazing, love” He whispered, rubbing her thigh and turning on the car.
Some good old fashioned magic extraction / human battery / magic exhaustion whump, my specialty.
⋆❅*𖢔𐂂꙳
“Thanks for helping me test this out, Cupid.”
Cupid swallows, focusing on staying perfectly still so as to not upset the tangle of wires attached to his skin in various places. “Yeah. No problem, Blitz.”
“You sure you’re down for this?” Blitz plugs something in, and the machine hums to life with a deep sound. “You look nervous.”
“I’m… a little nervous,” Cupid admits. “But this is for Santa, right? After everything he’s done for us, I want to help give back.”
It had seemed like an insane idea when Blitzen first approached Cupid with it. He believes that, although the team has been turned human, they still possess some level of winter magic. For the first few months of the summer, he’s been working on a machine that could extract and store some of that magic, making it usable for Santa and the elves.
Cupid was on board immediately. He’s been struggling recently with the notion that he no longer had a role in making Christmas happen. He and the rest of the team were so important before - the only ones who could take Santa and his toys all around the world in one night. Now, his presence in the North Pole means nothing.
He’s tried to make himself useful still, learning first aid and medicine and becoming the unofficial physician for the team and often the elves when they get hurt in the workshop, but still Cupid longs to do more, to have a hand in the Christmas magic like he used to.
That’s what led him here, hooked up to a glowing, whirring machine in Blitzen’s workshop, which had been remodled and fire-proofed since the incident a few months ago.
“Will it hurt?”
Blitzen sits down on a stool and rolls it up next to Cupid, double checking the wires. “Uhhhh… To be honest, Cupid, I have no idea.”
Cupid huffs out a quiet laugh. “That’s comforting.”
“I’ll turn it off the second you tell me to, I promise.”
“Alright. I trust you, Blitz.”
Blitzen gives a short smile in return. “I’m gonna turn it on now, okay?”
“Go ahead. I’m ready.”
When the machine starts up, Cupid feels nothing at first. Then, the sensation sinks in, starting with a warm buzzing in his fingers and toes, creeping up his limbs. He shudders at the strangeness of it, but at least it doesn’t hurt.
“It… It’s working!” Blitzen cheers.
Cupid glances over, watching as veins of glittering pale green crawl across the wires they’re hooked up to and flow into the battery Blitzen had constructed to house the harvested winter magic. “Wow,” he whispers, a smile blooming on his face.
“Does it hurt?”
Cupid shrugs. “It’s definitely weird. I feel all warm and tingly. But no, it doesn’t hurt.”
“Awesome. Let me know when you want to stop, okay? I want to see how much we can get.”
With a nod, Cupid leans back against the backrest of his chair, closing his eyes. He’s starting to feel tired, his breaths coming a bit faster and heavier like he just finished sprinting across the palace grounds.
He’s not sure how long he sits there, focusing on keeping his breaths even so he won’t worry Blitzen. His head feels fuzzy, and a buzzing in his ears has grown until he can’t really hear the machine humming away anymore. Everything is hot and static and pinpricks up and down his limbs, and Cupid starts to drift off into it. It’s almost like a high, magic roaring to life under Cupid’s skin as it gets pulled from him and bringing with it an intense headrush.
“-id? Cupid! Can you hear me?!”
Cupid hums, his head lolling to the side. He opens his eyes, finding not one but three Blitzens, all staring at him with concern and panic. He tries to speak, to ask his teammate what’s wrong, but all that escapes his mouth is a faint groan.
“Shit shit shit okay I’m turning it off!”
Biltzen disapears somewhere behind Cupid and he closes his eyes again, sinking back into the warmth of the magic in his veins.
Then, it all stops.
Cupid gasps, his body suddenly going from relaxed in his chair to unbearably tense as a wave of freezing cold washes over him. He shudders and clenches his teeth to make them stop chattering, wrapping his arms around his now trembling body and hunching in on himself. A sob tears itself from Cupid’s throat. He’s never felt so cold and empty before in his entire life. It hurts, a throbbing pain radiating out from the hollow hole in his chest and attacking the rest of his body.
Arms wrap around him and he’s pulled to the side until he leans into a solid body. He tucks his face into Blitzen’s stomach but the warmth that he’s seeking isn’t there. Everything’s just cold cold cold.
“You okay?”
He can't stop shaking, even though he feels like he’s going to fall apart any second now.
“Cupid? Please talk to me.”
He can’t bring himself to talk, too focused on the pain and the cold.
Cupid can’t be sure how long it lasts, but eventually he starts to feel warm again and he can finally focus past the ache in his chest, finding himself still slumped against Blitzen, who sighs with relief when he notices Cupid looking up at him.
“You’re okay?” he asks hopefully.
“Yeah,” Cupid rasps. “Sorry.”
Blitzen frowns, pulling away from Cupid to look him over. “Sorry? Buddy, I’m the one who should be sorry. I didn’t know it would… affect you like that.”
Cupid shrugs. “Now we know. At least it worked, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Cupid swings their legs over the side of the chair and tries to stand. The movement brings a wave of exhaustion with it and Blitzen rushes to catch him before he can fall, holding his arms until he can balance again. “Come on, you should rest. I’ll get you to your room.”
It was worth it. The expense of his magic was a small price for Splendor to pay to buy time, so why was his body acting as if he’d started an internal apocalypse? His skin felt paper thin, ready to tear with any sudden move as he stumbled in the others’ wake. Was it his feet swerving or just his vision?
Daylight…The fragile vestiges of power in Splendor’s veins tingled longingly. He had to endure until sunrise, until healing rays found his face. So soothing…so warm…
The warmth painting his lips now tasted like metal. That wasn’t right, he realized, groggily searching for a hand to swipe it. When the ground rose to meet him instead, he had no time to be surprised.
if you are still into percy jackson.. would you write something with nico di angelo whumpee and will solace as caretaker ?
I don't think I can ever stop being into Percy Jackson, so here you go!
This is a classic case of Nico overusing his shadow travel and Will being there to help him. Enjoy!
~
Nico's knees hit the ground first, followed by the rest of his body with a dull thump onto damp concrete. He barely had the presence of mind to turn his head to avoid breaking his nose, his cheek slamming into a puddle.
He cracked his eyes open. Blinding sunlight was quickly swallowed by the darkness that pressed in around the edges of his vision.
"-co?"
He was tired. More than tired. Everything hurt so fucking badly, and his limbs had that cold tingly sensation like they were still halfway in the shadow world. But he had to get up. He had to keep moving. It wasn't safe. He had to protect-
"Nico!"
Will. Good. He's still okay, at least.
Last Nico remembered, he'd been on the verge of collapse, his legs barely able to support his lanky body as the monster behind them got closer and closer. Nico knew that he wasn't supposed to shadow travel anymore, but what other options would they have had? He could've stopped and fought those things off on his own, maybe, but not with Will there and barely holding himself up. It wasn't worth the risk of him getting hurt.
"Come on, wake up!"
So he had done the only thing he could - grabbed Will by the arm and ripped him into the nearest shadow.
And now they were here, and the roars of their pursuers were far away. Safe, for now at least.
Nico let his eyes fall closed, then jolted sharply at a sudden stinging pain across his cheek.
Maybe not safe after all.
He snapped his eyes open, scrambling to get to his feet, but his hands turned misty and sank to the elbows into the ground.
"Nico, stop it!" Will's hand was warm on his back, pushing him back down. "Stay down, okay? You're done."
Nico blinked blearily. "Wha-"
"I'm sorry I hit you, okay? But I'm not losing you right now."
Oh. It was just Will, of course. Nico let himself be rolled onto his back, Will needing a few tries to accomplish it as his hands kept passing through Nico's body.
"They're gone?" Nico slurred.
"I think so."
"Hm. Good. Where are we?" The words took entirely too much effort to get out, and it seemed to take Will a moment to piece together their meaning.
"Not sure. Some alley, but it seems safe enough."
"I wanna..." Nico blinked slowly. "'m tired."
"Yeah, okay." Will looked around once more, then pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. He took Nico under the elbows, almost dropping him, and dragged him to the nearest wall to lean against it. Then Will sat down next to him, letting Nico's spent body slump sideways onto his shoulder.
He dug through his pack, pulling out a crumpled baggie of ambrosia. He took a nibble for himself, then brought a chunk to Nico's lips.
Nico turned his head away with a groan. His mouth tasted like blood, and the last thing he wanted to do was eat right now.
"Don't be an idiot," Will said affectionately. "You can sleep after you get some ambrosia in you."
Nico made one more noise of complaint, just to let his boyfriend know that he wasn't happy about this, then let himself be fed. He did feel slightly better after, although he would never admit it.
"Okay, you can sleep now. I'll keep watch."
Will was in desperate need of a rest himself. If trouble showed up, he wouldn't be able to fend for himself.
"Wake me up if-"
"Sleep, Nico."
"But-"
"Don't make me tell you again."
Fine. Sometimes Nico forgot that Will, despite his easy going nature, could be painfully stubborn himself.
Happy sproothday sproo! Alex belongs to @whump-sprite
—
They weren’t expecting to find prisoners when they broke into the fort in search of a dangerous artifact, let alone groups of scared civilians shoved into tight cells. With the now-unconscious jailor’s keyring, Linde sets about unlocking each cold iron door, while Khurri ushers everyone out and Nettle points them towards the exit. Himadri hovers anxiously nearby, looking for wounds he might be able to heal.
The last cell on the end is almost hidden in shadow, the glowlight hanging from the ceiling shattered and dark. When Linde pulls the door open, she has to squint, but Himadri sees the prisoner immediately. A human in the torn, dirty garb of a mage, prone on the floor. His ears prick forward to pick up shaky, rattled breathing, and after a moment he can make out torn skin on his back and the stink of dried blood. “God,” he breathes. “What has been done to him?”
Linde steps forward to lift him up, but Himadri stops her. “Take care with his back. He has been… He is injured.”
“Yeah, I will,” Linde says, reaching out for the mage’s hand to try and wake him first. The lightest touch stirs him, and dazed, pain-fogged eyes crack open.
“C’n heal,” he mumbles, struggling to drag his arms underneath his body to push himself up. “I c’n, d-don’t, h-hhh–” His teeth are chattering, and he lets out a weak cry as his arms fail him and he falls back on his front.
The bottom drops out of Himadri’s stomach, and he pulls out his focus staff, hovering the crystal over the mage’s back. These injuries aren’t fresh, but he can’t do nothing, not when this young man at his feet has been tortured into healing. “What are you called?” he asks, focusing hard to push healing into old, scabbed wounds.
“…’lex,” the human mumbles, shuddering as Linde gently helps him up to kneel. “A-A-Alex, I–ohh–” He moans in relief as the magic eases some of his pain, closes some wounds that had started to open with movement.
“We’ll get you out of here, Alex,” Linde promises. “I’ll carry you.”
Alex nods drowsily, his eyes slipping closed as the magic fades, and he falls into Linde’s chest, newly unconscious. She lifts him up, chin tucked into her shoulder so as not to disturb his back, and she and Himadri re-emerge into the dimly lit hallway.
In the light, Himadri can see the injuries more clearly. Whiplashes–he’s seen them on escaped slaves and criminals both. He holds his staff tightly in his hands, trying not to stare at the marks before Linde turns and starts to follow the others out into the light.
If the Archbishop is keeping healers in such a state, what would she do if she captured him?
🥱 - Sleep deprivation (I lied, I'm sending 3 instead of twoXD♥️) Thanks again!
Thanks again for your asks! This was fun!
⋆⋄✧⋄⋆
Ventis, Onthyes, and Shayah have been holed up in this partially collapsed watchtower for three days now.
Wind howls through cracks in the stone, fluttering the torn edges of old banners. It's freezing, dark, and nowhere close to safe, but it's the only barrier between them and whatever the thing was that tore through their last camp like paper.
Shayah sleeps light, still in her armor, her axe within arm's reach. Onthyes squats in front of the fire, warming his hands. Onthyes glances over at Ventis-
"I'm fine," Ventis says before Onthyes can voice his question. "I've got it."
He's sitting against a wall, one leg outstretched and the other bent. His palms are cupped around a little ball of glowing blue magic. It flickers like a candle flame, casting an eerie light up onto his face. Right now, this ball of magic is the one thing keeping their enemy from sensing their location and coming for them again.
"You haven't slept in days."
"Well, I've still got it."
Ventis isn't sure that that's even true. He's still awake, sure. He's still fueling the wards around their hiding place. But Onthyes is right. It's been days. It's been days and he hasn't slept at all.
"Ventis..." Onthyes stands and goes over to him, lowering himself to lean against the wall just next to him.
Ventis leans into Onthyes's shoulder. He's toasty warm from being by the fire, and immediately Ventis feels his eyes closing, the urge to doze off here overwhelming.
He jolts upright, his head spinning from the motion. The sphere of light flickers dangerously, and he steadies it by sheer will alone. He can't afford to sleep now. His friends need him to keep this ward alive.
Ventis grits his teeth. "I'm fine," he says again, but his words come out slurred.
Onthyes doesn't say anything for a moment, doesn't move away either. He watches Ventis, scanning him with worry pinching his brow.
Ventis lets out a stuttering exhale through his nose. "Just... tired."
"Then sleep."
"I can't." Tears of frustration sting at Ventis's eyes against his will. "The ward-"
"I'll wake up Shayah. The two of us can keep watch the old fashioned way while you rest up."
Ventis shakes his head. Onthyes doesn't understand. He can't just sleep, knowing that his friends are waiting for some unknown force to tear them apart. He pulls the ball of magic closer to his chest, drawing both knees up.
"They'll find us."
"Ventis-"
"No. I can feel it, Onthyes. Something's looking for us. It's after us. If I let go, even for a second-"
His voice is trembling now, frayed at the edges. Onthyes reaches for his shoulder and Ventis flinches hard. The magic flares, then gutters like a lamp in the wind. His breath catches. His vision goes dark for less than a second and when it returns, he can't feel his hands.
No.
No, not now, damn it.
The magic flickers again. Ventis's limbs buzz.
"I can't," Ventis gasps, panic rising in his chest. "I can't feel my hands."
"Ventis," Onthyes's voice is suddenly stern as he grabs his wrist. "You're done."
"No no no-"
The magic flickers out.
"No!"
"Shayah, wake up," Onthyes barks.
Shayah is up instantly, axe in hand.
"I'm sorry-"
"It's okay, Ventis. We can handle it."
Ventis lets his head thump back on the wall, unable to hold it up anymore. Onthyes and Shayah stand back to back, weapons drawn.
And nothing comes. No sudden attack, nothing but a distant chirping of frogs and the crackle of the fire.
Ventis sags forward. Onthyes rushes to catch him before he can hit the ground. His skin is cold and clammy, his breathing quick and shallow.
"See?" Onthyes is panting, forced sunniness barely covering his unease. "Whatever it is, it lost interest. You did great, Ventis."
Ventis swallows back a sob. Now that he's not focusing on the spell, he can really feel just how tired he is. His vision fades in and out, a strange buzzing taking over his hearing.
River Hill-Donovan seemed like a regular guy on the surface, but in reality he was anything but. He came from a rather famous family, and always felt like he had multiple big shoes to fill.
His grandfather, Liam Hill, was one of the best detectives the city had ever seen, and even though he had retired a decade ago, the police department sometimes still sought his advise. Fortunately, one of his aunts, Echo, was already working on following in his footsteps, having just made detective and thus being well on her way to live up to her father's name.
Then there was his other aunt, one of the sweetest women on the planet, and one of the city's more prolific superheroes. She had the power to turn into any animal, even mythical ones. River however...his powers only really allowed him to talk to and understand animals, which came in handy when gathering information...but that was about it.
His mother was twice as famous. Also a prolific hero, capable of manipulating the very air around her, the mention her alias alone capable of striking fear in any perpetrator with a base knowledge of heroes. But she was also a prolific rock star, often away on tour, leaving River with family or friends, since a tour life was no way to raise a child.
River could sing. He'd definitely inherited at least some of his mother's talent. Only he also had stage fright, and preferred to only sing in the shower. He did have one song on one of his mother's albums, but he liked to pretend that song didn't even exist.
And then there was his father, who everyone wanted him to be like.
River never knew his father. At least, not consciously. He died a hero before River managed to maintain any memories, but he'd grown up hearing stories about how great he was. The famous Blaze, aka Saturn Hill. A prolific hero, even in death, most known for his proficiency in fire magic.
River had his suspicions that everyone expected him to be like his father when they tried to talk him into learning magic, more specifically, fire magic. Only the problem was...River could only just manage the basics, and never really advanced in any type of magic.
So there he was, the son of two powerful heroes, with a barely useful passive power, and a basic grasp of some elemental magic. He tried to join the Sidekick Programme like his parents before him, in an attempt to improve on those basics, but it just didn't quite work out.
He quit the programme, and instead decided to assist one of his best friends with her ghost-hunting business — Which was more a "ask ghosts why they're still around and help them find closure" business, but ghost-hunting rolled better off the tongue according to his friend.
Elaine Carter-McLaughlann didn't seem like she had a lot in common with River, but underneath the surface, they were actually a lot alike. She, too, lost a parent at a young age, both of which were famous and prolific, so she, too, felt the unspoken pressure of living up to their legacies, while also sharing barely any personality traits, and only having a passive power to try and attempt that.
She had a slight interest in magic, but without an innate talent for it, she had to rely on totems, wards, shrines, sigils and herbs. Which finally gave River a leg up, as he could create something out of nothing with spells and incantations.
When things got hairy (which thankfully wasn't often), River used his stronger magic to protect Elaine. And when that wasn't sufficient, they could rely on a number of their other friends, though the first one to usually show up was Ethan Knight, aka Lightbringer, yet another child of prolific heroes with big shoes to fill, though Ethan was a bit more successful at it, having obtained the leadership position of the current Sidekick cohort.
Despite being younger than both River and Elaine, Ethan couldn't help but to feel responsible for them, given his position in the Sidekick Programme and the fact that his powers were marginally more useful in regular crime-fighting. Which was exactly why he tended to be the first to respond whenever they found themselves in distress.
Fortunately it really wasn't that often, but still often enough that Ethan worried about them when he lost contact with them in the midst of a calamity. Especially if he couldn't re-establish contact until after they had dealt with the source of the calamity.
River caught his breath a bit as the distant roaring finally died away, and concrete debris and glass shards finally stopped flying at them from all directions. He looked over his friend, who besides a couple of scuffs seemed unharmed.
Thank the Elements...it wasn't all for nothing.
She was talking about...something. River recognised her voice, but he couldn't quite process what she was saying. Not a good sign. Time to sit down.
He carefully lowered himself, hands groping around a bit until he managed to perch himself on the curb. Elaine joined him, still talking. Something about sleep. Sleep sounded really good right about now.
"You...okay?"
River wasn't even shure if that was exactly what she said, but that was the part his brain managed to translate. Now how to reply simply?
"Just tired..."
Nailed it.
Elaine started talking again, but River could barely hear her over the ringing in his ears. Another voice joined the conversation, and River vaguely recognised something familiar, something radiant keeping the darkness at the edge of his vision at bay.
And suddenly he was lying down. Someone was holding his face. He weakly pushed them away, or at least he thought he did. He gasped for air, opening his eyes, but only seeing blurry shapes.
"River!"
Hands returned to his face, gently cupping the sides of his head.
"Are you okay? You passed out!"
Obviously not...
But River couldn't really form any words. He managed some sort of groan, and then the darkness returned.
When he next woke up, he felt cold. So cold. His whole body shook, the tremors so bad he felt like he was about to fall. He held on for dear life, one hand clutching the...soft ground beneath him? The other squeezing something solid and warm.
Something cold brushed past his face, and his breath hitched. He turned his head away, whimpering a bit. What was happening? Was this what dying felt like?
"River...River! River!!"
River snapped out of his daze, finding several people staring down at him. Their faces were blurred, but he recognised Elaine's voice, and Ethan's too as he spoke up next.
"Breathe, buddy. Just breathe. We got you."
River realised he was clinging to his hand for dear life when he squeezed back to show his support, while Elaine dabbed his face with a cold, wet cloth.
"W-what's happening?" River croaked, still shaking.
"You used too much magic," Elaine said, "Your aunt is on her way to help, so just hang in until she gets here, okay?"
"A-auntie Sin?" River whined.
"Yeah, she'll be here soon," Elaine said.
"The doctor is gonna give you something to help you calm down so you can rest." Ethan added, squeezing his hand again, "We'll stay right by your side, okay?"
River nodded weakly, grateful to have his friends at his side. The edges of his vision were darkening again, but knowing he was in good hands, he decided not to fight it. Instead, he leaned into their touch and slipped away again.
@whumpay
Saturn & Sinnera (the shape-shifting aunt) belong to @dr-abitat-blog
Ethan/Lightbringer belongs to @illustriousshadow
Masterlist
Main account
The kidssss! These blorbos are planned like 20 years in the future or so, but I already love them so much <3 I've included a picrew of Elaine, River and Ethan respectively
Also I redid this piece like twice, which is why there's a sudden POV switch (at least that's what it feels like to me) Because at first it was mostly banter between Elaine and Ethan and River dying in the background didn't feel whumpy enough, so I scrapped a huge part and replaced it with this.
Whump Station @whumpstation - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
baratheonpilled
dededos
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
areudirty
gummygunk
