#Febuwhumpday14

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming the Monster

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

a/n3: listen I like Lando but I needed a villian here

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,836,622 others

tagged: y/n_rb, landonorris

y/n_gossip: it seems like little Lando Norris might be thinking of a matador career — he keeps tempting the bulls! After a few close calls with Verstappen, Norris and L/N collided resulting in a DNF for our girl with some pretty harsh words coming from both of their radios afterwards.

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user1: this is what racing is!

↳user2: I know — I was on the edge of my seat…

user3: pretty harsh?? Girl sounded like she was gonna run him down on foot and take him out

↳user4: lol did you see the rb team after she got back to the garage?

↳user5: they literally just picked her up and moved her away from the reporters 😂😂

user6: oh the post race interviews are gonna slap

↳user7: I can’t wait!

user8: that’s so completely unfair! y/n was ahead at the apex — Lando should have given it away, not crashed into her

↳user9: seriously?? Where on earth did you get that information??

↳user8: uhh by watching the screen??

user10: oh shit….

↳user11: Lando’s post interview??

↳user10: how dare he say something like that???

f1gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,457,987 others

Transcript:

interviewer: and what are your thoughts on y/n and your collision today?

Lando: obviously not ideal. You know you never want to be in a collision- especially when it’s not your fault. Y/N…she should spend less time with Max, don’t need her becoming another monster, ya know…

f1gossip: what an interview! During his post race interview for Austria 2024, where he was forced to dnf after two different collisions with both Redbulls, Norris didn’t hold back his thoughts. During this brief moment, he talked about the close friendship between this year’s Redbull drivers — saying that y/n (a rookie) should take a step back from her more senior teammate because no one “[needed] her becoming another monster,”. He also went on to say that he was losing respect for Verstappen and the way he raced.

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user12: did he really just fucking say that?

↳user13: oh my god he did

↳user14: it’s even worse when you actually watch it because you can just barely see max next to him — when Norris said this, both max and the interviewer froze

↳user13: i mean i would too. That’s a really harsh thing to say about someone

user15: people want cunty f1 back again but can’t handle this little spat??

↳user16: cunty? Yes. Whatever this was? Absolutely not

user17: he’s just salty she’s better then him

↳user18: how do you figure that??

↳user17: she literally won her very first f1 race? He’s been racing for years and only just won his first this year

↳user18: it doesn’t count really. Everyone knows that redbull cheats

↳user17: oh my god just shut up

user20: i feel bad for y/n…it really wasn’t her fault nor did it affect lando too much but he’s (someone she’s said she looks up too before) putting her on blast with some pretty harsh words…

↳user21: she looks up to him??

↳user20: yeah! She’s said multiple times that she really admires how open he is talking about his mental health and that she really wanted to emulate him

↳user21: oh ouch…then today and that interview has got to hurt…

user22: anyone else interested in what she’s gonna do to retaliate?

↳user23: 🙋🏾‍♀️🙋🏾‍♀️

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67

[lady-wallace]

Collab with my friend @carryingstarlightinherwake for a fic she wrote featuring my Vampire Hunter AU!

Go read the fic HERE!

[macknus]

Febuwhump Day Fourteen

Prompt: Becoming the Monster

Happy Valentine’s Day guys!!!

Febuwhump Master-post

Whumpee was dragged in by two of Whumper’s dark knights; the soulless demons of men that stood over six-feet tall and were the monsters parents told their children about at night. Inhuman, built by pure muscle and power and spite, like loyal dogs that followed their Master’s commands flawlessly.

Whumpee had fought against them when they came. Thrown himself into the fight, grabbing one of the knight’s giant cleavers and slicing through the only weakness Whumpee knew about in their armour; under the armpit. The black blood from the beast sprayed Whumpee’s face and clothes, choking as the foul stench invaded his senses.

Blinded by the blood, he didn’t see the gauntlet flying for his face until the last second. He dodged but the blow caught his jaw and he went spinning before he fell. He rolled to his stomach groaning as he pushed himself up, but another blow came to the back of his head and he went down. Barely conscious he felt the dark knights grab his arms and drag him to a carriage bathed in black, velvet fabric with a red symbol embroidered into the door.

Whumpee couldn’t even fight as they threw him into the carriage, couldn’t catch himself before he hit the metal grate on the bottom, smacking his temple against it. He groaned again as somebody climbed in behind him and the doors shut behind him.

“Hello Whumpee,” a playful, honeyed voice said above him. Whumpee groaned again. Even in his semi-conscious state, he’d recognise that fucking cultivated voice anyway. The voice of a snake dressed as a dream, a viper in the skin of a man.

“Kaeto?” Whumpee murmured, the world spinning even before the carriage took off on the road.

“Ah, wonderful. The brutes didn’t hit you too hard then. Get up, Whumpee. A man of your breeding shouldn’t be on the ground of a carriage,” he purred.

“I’m fine here, thanks,” Whumpee clipped.

A hand of slim fingers bunched into Whumpee’s shirt and in a flash Whumpee was dragged from the ground and thrown into the plush, crimson seats across from Kaeto. He smiled a vulpine smile, his jaw length white blond hair radiant even in the darkness of the carriage.

“Now. Much better. I can get a look at you,” Kaeto said, his silver eyes searched Whumpee from head to toe. His gaze felt like hands, stroking cold fingers over his body, making sure to dig his nails in when he found something he disapproved of.

“Paint a fucking portrait why don’t you?” Whumpee snarled.

Kaeto’s face remained disgustingly pleasant. He tilted his head to the side as he leaned on his cane, silver cat-like eyes alight with interest.

“You’re thinner since last I saw you, though you don’t seem to have lost your strength. And… your beard,” Kaeto said, his lip curling back with distaste. “Not to worry, a hideous addition that can be swiftly removed. Hmm, maybe a haircut too. And—” Kateo sniffed the air. “Gods, boy, did you sleep with wolves while you were away?”

Whumpee smiled coldly at Kaeto. “Always happy to displease, Kaeto.”

Whumpee glanced at the doors to the carriage, but before he could even form a plan of escape the end of Kaeto’s cane pressed into his chest, pushing him back against the leather. Kaeto’s face didn’t morph from pleasant, but his eyes burned with a sadistic light.

“Do it, boy, I haven’t had the thrill of a chase in a while.”

Whumpee swallowed, his hands tightening into fists at his sides, but he released his fingers and relaxed into the seat and put his hands up.

The crazed light dimmed in Kaeto’s eyes a little, his pupils returning to normal size. He pulled the cane back and put it on the ground. “Hmph. Seems you have learned some things in the wild.”

“I wasn’t in the wild,” Whumpee huffed. “I just wasn’t in Whumper’s dead, stone palace. What does he want with me anyways?”

“You know exactly what he wants, boy.”

Whumpee didn’t flinch or bristle at the confirmation.

“Well my answer remains the same.”

Kaeto let out a melodic laugh that was anything but warm. “Oh, sweetheart,” Kaeto cooed. Whumpee clenched his jaw. “You don’t get a choice this time, I’m afraid.”

Whumpee’s lips curled back. Kaeto laughed again. “You do look like a wild brute when you do that, boy. It’s the dishevelment I think. It gives you a je-ne-sais-quoi.”

“I’m a bastard, remember?” Whumpee snarled. “I can’t inherit his title no matter how much he wants me to.”

Kaeto leaned back in his seat and spread his hands, showing his palms in an almost shrug. “And yet, here we are. In the middle of the Hollows, retrieving you. You were difficult to find, Whumpee, almost as if you were trying to hide from us.”

Whumpee didn’t answer.

Kaeto leaned forward again on his cane. His eyes shining with amusement and something older. Something wiser. “The world works in mysterious ways, bastard. When you live long enough to see it all, there is an intrinsic magic to life.”

“Are you a philosopher now?”

Kaeto smirked. “While looking this good? Absolutely not. I’m far too vain for that, boy, as you well know.”

Whumpee scoffed but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He glanced out the windows of the carriage. Yeah. He knew.

They passed for a while in silence. A furrow formed in Whumpee’s brow as he glanced back at Kaeto. Kaeto never took his eyes from Whumpee while he contemplated quietly. But they lit up when Whumpee turned an inquisitive eye to him, a question under his tongue.

“Would you bow to a bastard, Kaeto?”

“Not one with a beard, boy,” Kaeto replied smoothly.

Whumpee’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it. Would you? If I am to be his heir, that’s what you’ll have to do you know.”

Kaeto’s pupils dilated with interest, until his pupil nearly eclipsed his iris like a terrifying, killer cat. “I have been aware of that since I sensed the power on you years ago, Whumpee. The gods have ordained you to be the heir. How could I, a humble servant, refuse what is divined?”

“You’re far from humble.”

“That’s true.”

“Or a servant.”

“Also true,” Kaeto sighed, scowling. “You couldn’t let me be dramatic for a moment?”

“You’re always dramatic,” Whumpee told him.

Kaeto rolled his eyes. “I didn’t miss your lack of enthusiasm for wordplay. If the future of this court is to be all plain speaking I will have to form a rebellion against your rule.”

Kaeto shot Whumpee a grin, exposing his sharp teeth. Whumpee scoffed and went back to staring out the window. His chest tightened as they passed from the Hollows into the outskirts of the city. Green grass and lush trees with changing leaves gave way to stone and moss and dirt as they past the poorest neighbourhood in the luxurious carriage.

Whumpee scowled as he stared out the window.

How his “father” could let this kind of poverty and sickness run through the most vulnerable of his subjects angered Whumpee. But then again, his father wasn’t known for being warm. Not even to his proper children.

He hated the man, and everything him and his infernal family and court stood for.

That’s why when the carriage stopped and Kaeto stepped out into the courtyard of the palace, Whumpee slammed the door shut and held it tightly in place. He wished there were locks on the inside of this infernal thing. But it didn’t take long for one of the dark knight’s to rip the door open and drag Whumpee out, snarling and kicking and fighting until he was subdued again, this time by Kaeto, whacking the back of his head with a cane. The silver eyed man told him to behave and Whumpee groaned in response.

They brought him straight to the throne room, Kaeto leading the way. They paused outside the doors when they opened and Kaeto stepped through, spreading his arms wide.

“Whumper, my darling friend. I have retrieved your renegade son.”

Whumpee caught a glimpse of Whumper in his throne. He sat more like a rake than a King; half sprawled across it as if he was bored, an elbow rested on the arm of the throne, a fist on his chin, propping his head up as he stared with his midnight eyes at the giant double doors. He had the same wavy, raven coloured hair as Whumpee that fell to just below his chin. The same strong jaw and straight nose.

In fact, many from the court said, Whumpee had more likeness to the King than any of his pure blooded children which served to anger Whumpee’s half siblings to an unnerving degree.

“Bring him in,” Whumper said, his voice deep, apathetic, like a tired God that was bored of life and all it had to offer because he had seen it all. But the moment Kaeto stepped out from in front of Whumpee, Whumpee saw the cruelty that was carved into his father’s face.

He looked at Whumpee with complete disdain, which was saying something since he usually only ever looked disinterested. The king glanced at the dark knights who dragged Whumpee in and held him before the raised dais to the throne.

His father nodded at the knights and they forced Whumpee to his knees in front of Whumper. Whumpee swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to still his racing heart.

“Where have you been, boy?” There was no affection in the question. No love or concern. Simply irritation for having caused so much trouble to be found.

Whumpee didn’t answer.

Whumper’s eyes flickered to Kaeto. “He was deep in the Hollows, your majesty. Hiding amongst the common folk.”

“That is where he belongs after all,” a snide voice interjected from behind. Whumper’s eldest son. In all respects Whumper’s spiritual successor, every bit as cruel, sadistic and evil as his father. And yet, the gods bestowed Whumpee with Whumper’s inheritance. “Isn’t that right, bastard?”

“A coward too,” another voice crooned, this time high pitched and beautiful, like a song floating through the throne room. Whumper’s eldest daughter added.

“Enough,” Whumper grumbled to his children who bowed their heads to him.

“Of course, Father.”

Whumpee rolled his eyes. Whumper snapped his attention back to him and Whumpee had to stop himself from swallowing. He couldn’t show fear. Nor any sort of emotion. Not in this den of vipers.

“Well boy?” Whumper demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Nothing.”

Whumper’s eyes narrowed. He shifted in his throne, sitting up straighter. “I assume that you knew I wanted you home before your twenty-first birthday.”

It wasn’t a question. Whumpee shrugged. “Lost track of time.”

“You arrogant little cunt,” Eldest said, and before Whumpee could reply, Eldest was in front of him. Whumpee’s eyes widened only slightly at his brother’s speed as Eldest lifted his hand to strike him. A hand caught Eldest’s wrist before he could make impact. Eldest whimpered as Whumpee’s saviour dragged him away from Whumpee.

To Whumpee’s surprise it was Whumper himself. “He was disrespecting you, father.”

“I know that,” Whumper growled low. “But discipline of any and all of my unruly children remains with me, boy.”

A thinly veiled threat. Whumpee couldn’t help the satisfied smile that graced his lips when Eldest shot a glare at him.

Whumper squeezed Eldest’s wrist and slammed it back in his chest. Eldest gasped, cradling the injury as he turned back to his sister. “Leave,” Whumper ordered, and the two did, staring murderously at Whumpee as they left.

Whumpee smirked then at Whumper. “When I inherit your crown, will I be able to discipline all your unruly children?”

A slap echoed through the throne room as Whumpee’s head whipped to the side. After a pause of registering he was slapped, did Whumpee feel the coppery tang of blood in his mouth from the smack.

“Petulant child. If you didn’t have a trace of my power when you were born I would have drowned you in the river.”

Whumpee curled his lip back revealing blood stained teeth. “Maybe you should have. It would have saved you a lot of headaches.”

Whumper glared down his nose at Whumpee before his lips broke into a cold, hungry smile. “You have the nerves for the power, at least.”

Whumpee blinked at the praise. His mind going back to how Eldest whimpered and balked at his father’s discipline.

Whumper clapped a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder. “But we both know violence won’t make you accept my legacy, so Kaeto and I came up with a different means to get you in line.”

Whumpee bristled at the mention of the cat-like courtier, who was more subtly sadistic than his father. Whumper’s eyes went over Whumpee’s head to Kaeto behind him.

“You did bring her?” Whumpee stiffened under his father’s hand.

“Of course, Whumper.”

His heart thundered against his chest as Whumper nodded. “Bring her in.”

Whumpee didn’t loose a breath, he didn’t dare a door to the side of the throne room opened. Whumpee turned his head and his heart dropped into a pit of his stomach. He jerked to his feet but Whumper’s hand pressed him back to the ground with ease.

Caretaker was being escorted in by two dark knights on either side of her, dragging her in, a cloth tied tightly around her mouth cut into her cheeks that Whumpee knew would leave bruises as she fought and kicked. Blood streamed down her hairline and from her nose and Whumpee shot up again but he didn’t get further than before, his knees cracked against the marble with such force he thought they would have shattered.

When Caretaker’s eyes met Whumpee’s she stopped walking, but the knights continued to drag her. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Whumpee, then Whumper then Kaeto and she started screaming profanities at Kaeto as she was dragged closer and closer.

“What’re you— how did you—” Whumpee stammered, his head twisting to see Kaeto leaning on his cane, cat-like eyes bright with satisfaction. “You’re a bastard, Kaeto!”

Whumpee would have lunged at him if he could, but Kaeto just smiled. “Not as much as you, darling boy.”

Whumpee turned back to Whumper, eyes pleading. “She has nothing to do with this! Let her go.”

Whumper put a hand under Whumpee’s chin and tilted his head up further until Whumpee’s neck was strained. “Did you just demand something of me, boy?”

Whumpee’s eyes went to Caretaker as she was dragged up the steps of the dais and wrestled to a kneeling position beside the throne.

“Please!” Whumpee cried. “Please, just… just let her go.”

Whumper tilted his head. His eyes darkened. “And what do I get in return?”

Whumpee’s heart hammered against his throat, his mind racing as he stared at Caretaker who kept trying to push herself to her feet in vain. The knights stood on each side of her, keeping her down.

Whumper let go of Whumpee and stepped back, half turned and walked up the steps to his throne. Whumpee lunged but two gauntleted hands grabbed each of his upper arms and restrained him, keeping him down too.

“The way I see it,” Whumper continued, walking over to Caretaker who glared up at him without fear. God. Whumpee’s heart jumped into his throat as Whumper reached a hand to Caretaker’s hair and stroked her head like a pet. “Either you accept my inheritance, take your place as the next ruler of this kingdom and all that comes with it, or I’ll be forced to incentivise you further.”

Caretaker’s eyes shot to Whumpee’s in shock. He never told her who he was, what he was to Whumper. He wanted to have a normal life with her. To settle down with her. Not… not this.

God, not this.

Whumper sat in his throne again, his hand drifting to the nape of Caretaker’s neck and pinching it. Caretaker cried out, struggling to get away but with her hands tied and the knights holding her down she couldn’t move an inch and neither could Whumpee.

“Come on, boy,” Kaeto crooned, sitting on the steps of the dais now. “Don’t force us to bless this mortal with our gifts.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened. “What?” He whispered.

Whumper smiled coldly at Whumpee. “One of you will be turned today, Whumpee. It’s your decision who that will be.”

Whumpee looked at Caretaker. Caretaker… who smiled at him with so much happiness and joy. Who taught him how to hunt for the stewing kind of mushrooms in the woods. Who taught him about the simple joys in life. Who opened herself up to him, her body to him under the stars by the lake. Who’s eyes twinkled with mischief when she was about to kiss him.

Caretaker who was so full of life.

He wouldn’t let them dull that sparkle in her eyes. In her heart. In her soul.

Caretaker flinched, as if she heard his thoughts. Then her struggles became more forceful and violent.

“Nngh! Nngh! ‘Umpee nngh!”

Kaeto’s eyes gleamed. “You’re doing the right thing, lad.”

“You better fucking watch yourself when I inherit his legacy, Kaeto,” Whumpee growled, struggling against the arms holding him.

“I sleep with one eye open every night, child.” Kaeto purred.

Whumpee turned his glare to Whumper then. “She goes free before we complete the rite.”

Whumper stroked Caretaker’s hair again. “I’m afraid she is the only thing that will ensure you keep your word.”

Whumpee swallowed. “But… when I— she’s human.”

Whumper smiled a rotten smile at him. “From what I’ve heard you two have been intimate already,” Whumper said, and Caretaker’s face flushed the same lethal red as Whumpee’s. “There’s nothing more intimate than being your first drink as a vampire, son.”

Caretaker stiffened. Whumpee turned his head to her, because he had to. He had to see her shivering, trembling as she looked at him now. Like he was a monster. It’s what he would be after all this was over. Just like his siblings. Just like his father and Kaeto.

“I don’t want to feed on her,” Whumpee said, his voice strained. “I’ll only agree to the rite if you bring me other humans to feed on. If you guarantee me her safety. That no harm will come to her.”

Kaeto let out an exaggerated sigh. “Wouldn’t you rather she be your queen? Hmm? Rule eternally by your side?”

“No,” Whumpee said a little too harshly. He turned to Caretaker. “I mean… I wish I could make you my wife, and guarantee your safety by my side forever, but my family… my siblings, you would always be a target. Always be threatened here. To hurt me they’d hurt you.”

Tears streamed down Caretaker’s face as she wept, sniffing, no longer struggling to escape as he spoke so gently to her.

“I love you,” he said. “I love everything you are. I love how you’re smarter than me, and like to let me know it. I love how you sing when you’re picking herbs in the garden.”

He felt his own tears bubble over his eyes as he continued. “I love how kind you are to strangers. How full of life and love and light, and I can’t dim that by locking you away in a black castle like this.”

She shook her head as she wept audibly now, muffled by the gag. “I can’t do that. Not to you. I love you so much that I’m willing to become a monster so you get to live a long, happy life free from court skulduggery and threats around every corner.”

“Nngh,” she cried in reply.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed and turned back to his father who watched with interest and something unreadable in his face. “I’ll do it as long as she remains human. Before, during and after the blood rite.”

Whumper’s grin exposed his sharp fangs and Whumpee knew he sealed his fate. “Deal.”

*~*~*~*~*

Tag-list: @whump-in-the-closet :)

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming The Monster

Raph faces a hallucination of his deepest fear: giving in to darkness and becoming a reflection of his own worst enemy.

[chaoticdreamers-world]

14. becoming the monster.

"you know what you have to do."

"don't ask this of me, whumpee."

"there's no other way. I've seen it happen, every time. this never ends well."

"we can find a way. a cure."

"there's no time. I don't want to hurt anyone. please, caretaker."

"I can't."

"I don't want to become-something you won't recognize, something everyone wishes wouldn't exist. please, caretaker. if you ever loved me, please do this for me."

"you're asking me to kill you."

"yes."

"....how?"

[serickswrites]

So Now Run

Warnings: blood, wounds, gun, gunshot, self sacrifice, loss of humanity, living weapon, tbh idk what tags are good for this one

Caretaker shook violently as they watched the battle wage longer. They hadn't signed up for this. Not really. They never wanted this. They hadn't wanted this for Whumpee.

Months ago, Caretaker thought they were making the right decision. Thought they were doing the right thing. Whumpee was sick and weak and Whumper was so strong. They had thought if they agreed to the terms that Organization gave them that Whumpee would be safe. That Whumpee would be healed. Caretaker hadn't really understood what they were agreeing to. Hadn't understood what Organization wanted to do to Whumpee.

At first, Whumpee seemed the same. They seemed to be getting stronger. They seemed to be healthy. At first, Whumpee seemed to be themself, but better. But as time wore on, Caretaker realized something was off.

What was worse is Whumpee knew it, too. Whumpee knew what Organization had done to them. What Organization was doing to them. And they agreed to let it happen, all in the name of stopping Whumper. All to protect Caretaker.

Whumpee felt their humanity slipping away piece by piece. Each droplet of blood that spilled from their skin was another drop of soul being ripped away. Each life they took was another little death in their soul. Each step closer to being the perfect weapon was a step further away from who they once were. Each moment was one step closer to becoming the monster they and everyone else feared.

But it was all worth it to protect Caretaker.

Caretaker watched Whumpee fire their gun over and over. Watched Whumpee become splattered with blood. Watched as their affect became flatter and flatter. Watched as Whumpee's humanity dissolved away completely until all that was left was a husk of a person that was now a weapon.

"Whumpee, come with me! We can leave all this behind. We can get you to safety! Come on, Whumpee!" Caretaker shouted above the din of the battle.

Whumpee stared at Caretaker with empty eyes. Distantly they felt their heart break. Distantly they felt sadness fill them. Distantly they felt themself mourn who they once were but could no longer be. They couldn't do as Caretaker asked. Couldn't do any of that. There was nothing left of them to save. But they could still save Caretaker.

"You put the gun in my hand," Whumpee said coldly. This was the only way. This was the only way to get Caretaker to leave them. To give up on them. To forget about them and be safe. Far, far away from them. This was the only way. "So now, run." Whumpee let the deadness fill their eyes. Let the monster lurking beneath their skin out. They would never hurt Caretaker. But Caretaker didn't know that.

Caretaker flinched back with a yelp. "Whumpee--"

"Run, Caretaker. Run, or you'll be next." Whumpee said, feeling the last pieces of their heart break at the fear in Caretaker's gaze. This was for the best. This would keep Caretaker safe. They became the monster so that Caretaker would be safe. So that Caretaker would live.

Whumpee watched as Caretaker ran from them. Watched as they only person they loved run from them. Watched as the only person who cared about them run from them. Watched as the last of their humanity slipped away completely. This was the only way. Whumpee closed their eyes for a moment, letting the grief consume them. And then they turned to the battle once more, the perfect weapon loosed amongst the enemy.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[writerlovestropes]

@febuwhump​

Link to story: ​It all started with the Batmobile...

Summary:

 Tim rubs his hands together, hoping that they’ll stop shaking. He looks across the street at the most beautiful car in all of creation and sighs. Is it the absolute dumbest idea to celebrate the anniversary of Jason stealing the Batmobile’s tires by trying to steal them himself? Absolutely. Is Tim going to do it anyway? Hell yeah.

 or: An eleven-year-old Tim is obsessed with cars, like most kids his age, so he does the logical thing and steals the Batmobile's tires (and eventually the whole car). This leads Bruce through the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Adoption.

This is my Febuwhump 2025 story. Let's go! 28 chapters of whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, and lots of humor. Every chapter is a different prompt. This story is heavier on the humor than the whump, but it definitely gets dark at times :)

I’m posting because I’ve reached the half-way point. Day 14, Chapter 14! Woo hoo!!

This is the first time I’m doing a 28-chapter story for Febwhump in the correct order of the prompts, so if I can pull it off I will be a legitimate completionist. I started out 7 chapters ahead and I’m only two at this point, but I’ve got a fast writing weekend planned so I think I might do it in time. If you haven’t read the story yet, come join me for the ride. It’s Car Tim at his most unhinged! I’m having so much fun with this.

Also, a huge thank you to Febuwhump for the huge push to take on this challenge and also to @lilavaporizer9000​ for writing the amazing Boom, Boom, Pow that made me obsessed with Car Tim and heavily inspired this story!!

[aquinnix]

Febuwhump Day 14 - Becoming the Monster

“Don’t you ever wonder what would have happened, if things had gone differently? That first time?” Martyn’s voice was absent minded, as if he hadn’t just asked a question that sent a bolt through Ren’s heart.

Ren tried to match his tone. “What kind of different?” At the same moment that last word left his tongue, a flash echoed from somewhere deep in his mind. A flash, in which, just before the axe fell, Ren had said that word in something close to wonder.

Martyn kicked out his legs, then he shrugged. “Just different, less…” He met Ren’s gaze, hesitantly. And in those eyes, there was a look halfway between shame and horror.

And within those eyes, Ren found the rest of Martyn’s sentence.

“Yes, sometimes.” Not sometimes, too many times, too many nightmares, too many checks for his own pulse, too many breaks. Ren turned away. “Where we would be, if I hadn’t.”

“No! That’s not what I… That’s not why I…” The certainty in Martyn’s words crumbled the longer he spoke.

Ren curled in on himself even further. “You don’t have to pretend with me, we both know what you meant.”

“Don’t have to pretend?” Martyn echoed the words, soft, hopeful, sad. “Weren’t we always pretending?” Hopeful, empty, knowing.

Ren rubbed at his neck. He didn’t answer Martyn’s question. He knew they both knew the answer. He knew they stopped lying the moment blood stained the stone. He knew it became real the moment they raised that first banner that didn’t come from poppies. He knew it, in those quiet moments, when the haze cleared just for a fraction he knew.

Ren knew what he had become.

Martyn knew it too.

“Theater.” What Ren meant, neither of them were sure.

“Theater.” Martyn echoed the word.

[callaeidae3]

Febuwhump2025 Day 14: Becoming the monster

One (1) fear...

[linecrosser]

Febuwhump 2k25 - Day 14 - Feeding Tube (Alt Prompt 10)

Airplane got returned home. To his original body that is very much not ok. He can't move. He is trapped.

[loopstagirl]

Febuwhump DAY 14: becoming the monster

Merlin and Arthur

Time and again

For @Febuwhump day 14: Becoming the monster

TW: MCD

-x-

The attack came out of nowhere. 

One moment, they were riding through the forest. Merlin was side by side with Arthur, the knights joking behind them. More than once, it was only Arthur’s quick hand that stopped him from falling out of the saddle as he twisted to respond to a comment, normally at the king’s expense. The mood was jovial and light and they had no reason to suspect anything could go amiss. 

But in the next moment, arrows flew from the trees. They came from all directions, fierce shouts filling the air as bandits blocked the path in front of them. 

“On me!” Arthur didn’t mess a beat. His sword was free from its scabbard, cloak falling from his shoulders as he spurred his mount into a charge.  

The knights followed suit. They cantered past, moving easily past Merlin’s stationary horse as he kept out of the way. While the bandits had tried to block the path, not many men could withstand five knights of Camelot charging at them on steeds who were bred for war. They scattered, falling back to the cover of the trees, their war cries now sounding more frantic. 

Merlin rolled his eyes at their stupidity of attacking the king and his men. But the arrows were still falling and he couldn’t just sit here. One projectile narrowly missed his horse’s flank and Merlin touched his heels, encouraging it forward. As he did so, he once again twisted in his saddle and with a sweep of his hand, the next barrage of arrows spun in midair and reversed along their flight path. Startled shouts came from the trees, followed by a few yelps of pain, and there was a moment’s reprieve from the shots. 

“Arthur!” 

It was stupid to get in the midst of fighting men. But he couldn’t protect either his king or his friends if he couldn’t see where the attacks were coming from. Only Leon and Gwaine were still mounted: the rest of them had slid from their horses, sending the animals away from the fight and engaging with the bandits on foot. They were too high from the ground for their blows to be effective while in the saddle. 

Merlin shouldered his way past a man battling Elyan. If his eyes flashed as he pushed past, nobody noticed. But Elyan grinned his thanks as Merlin’s casual ‘shove’ was apparently strong enough to make the man trip over, making him an easy target for the knight. 

He didn’t stop to see the outcome though. He needed to get to Arthur. 

Eventually, he reached the king’s side. Arthur was locked in combat with a brute twice his size. He glanced over, saw Merlin, rolled his eyes, but didn’t have either the time or the breath to make a comment. Merlin flashed him a grin and ducked a sword that had been aiming for his head. Leon made short work of dispatching his attacker. 

But then it happened. Some lucky, freak shot. Merlin didn’t even sense magic in the air: it was pure luck or exceptional skill. An arrow shot through the melee of battling men. It passed the battling knights, zipped past the bandits... and found its target. 

Arthur’s cry tore through Merlin with more force than the arrow would’ve done. He whipped around, staring in disbelief as the king toppled forward, the arrow having hit with such force it punctured through the rings of chain mail. It was as if time slowed as Arthur hit the ground, but this time, it wasn’t Merlin’s magic doing it. 

He’d get up again. He’d have to get up. His chainmail would’ve taken the force; he’d be fine. 

Arthur didn’t get up. 

Merlin watched, cold with horror, as Arthur’s hand went slack on his sword. 

“No!” 

The scream was imbued with magic.  

He didn’t need a spell. Didn’t need a gesture. A great wave of power exploded from him. All of the bandits were thrown back as a gale crashed through the clearing, identifying friend from foe and flinging them through the air.  

Merlin stalked forward. Tears flooded his eyes as he moved towards Arthur. They stung as they rolled down his cheeks, golden magic burning everything it touched, even it’s owner.  

The magic continued to pulse from him with each step. He was distantly aware of screaming. His magic was doing something.  

“Merlin, stop!” 

Gwaine’s voice was a faint echo though. His words didn’t matter. All that mattered was reaching Arthur’s side. 

He didn’t need to push the final man aside. He clenched his fist in one sharp movement and the man collapsed, his heart stopped. 

“Arthur?” Dropping to his knees, Merlin angrily brushed the burning tears aside. Streaks of gold came away on his hand, sinking into his skin, leaving golden swirls visible. But Merlin didn’t notice.  

Trembling, he turned Arthur over. The arrow had punched straight through his chainmail in the centre of his chest. Already his face had gone pale, features slack, as his head lolled in Merlin’s grip. 

“Wake up,” Merlin pleaded. “Arthur, c’mon, wake up.” 

Even as he tried to push life back into his king’s body, Merlin knew. His magic had known the second the arrow connected. He was too late. 

An incoherent scream tore from his throat. All around him, he heard the bandits cry out in pain as his magic unleashed. He forced them into the ground, hauled them up trees by their necks, slowly suffocating them in the mud. 

All without looking away from the man cradled in his arms.  

As the cries became gurgles and whimpers, he became aware of the knights closing in around him. 

“Merlin. Stop. You have to stop.” 

Gwaine’s voice was far softer than he was used to. But it wasn’t what Merlin wanted to hear. His index finger twitched and the man’s mouth snapped shut. Gwaine give a whine, unable to open his mouth to say anything more. 

“Merlin!” Leon’s gasp nearly afforded him the same treatment. Only the fact he hadn’t told him to stop saved the knight. 

Merlin slowly stood; Arthur’s body cradled in his arms as if weightless. Everywhere the king’s blood touched him, golden swirls sunk into his skin. He didn’t need to see his reflection to know all traces of blue had vanished from his eyes. They were burning gold, with a thin rim of black around the outside. 

Their attackers had all fallen silent. All dead. Agony contorted their features. 

“Get out of my way,” he told the knights. Gwaine had one hand resting on his throat, fear in his usually fearless gaze. 

“Merlin-,” 

“I’m not Merlin.” His voice was cold, power and magic radiating behind every word. “My name is Emrys. And the world will burn for what it has taken from me.” 

-x- 

The attack came out of nowhere. 

One moment, they were riding through the forest. Arthur, as usual, took the lead but, as usual, Merlin was somehow by his side, the knights joking behind them. In a way, it was a good thing. It was only his quick reactions that stopped his servant from completely toppling from his saddle as he joined in with the banter behind them. The mood was jovial and light and they had no reason to suspect anything could go amiss. 

But in the next moment, arrows flew from the trees. They came from all directions, fierce shouts filling the air as bandits blocked the path in front of them. 

Instinct took over. One hand on his hilt; the other freeing the clasp of his cloak. 

“On me!”  

He touched his heels to his horse, making the animal surge forward. Merlin fell back (or just stayed still) as the knights raced after him. He knew their blood would be up the way his was, adrenaline masking all thoughts other than dealing with the attack. Numerous men with crude weapons had blocked the path in front of them, but Arthur relished in the uncertainty that flickered across their faces as they were suddenly met with charging knights. 

They scattered, falling back to the cover of the trees, their war cries now sounding more frantic. 

He swung, his sword cutting down men easily. But it didn’t take long before his sword was almost wrenched from his hand as it lodged in the rough helm his latest opponent was wearing. Arthur went with the motion, jumping from the saddle and pulling it free. Around him, he was aware of Elyan and Percival doing the same. A quick slap to his horse’s rump saw it fleeing the fight. It was bred for battle, but also bred to stop a short distance away and wait when not needed. 

Arthur lost himself to the fight. His training took over and his body knew what to do without any rational thought. It left his mind free to wonder why there was a sudden yell from the men in the trees, but he couldn’t spare the glance it would take to find out. He just had to hope that it didn’t mean reinforcements. 

He was aware of a commotion behind him where Elyan was fighting. It took a few seconds before he could glance over to check his knight didn’t need help. But Elyan’s opponent was in the dirt and Merlin was sidling closer to Arthur. He rolled his eyes: one day the idiot would realise he should go with the horses and wait away from the fight, not find where the fighting was thickest. 

As that thought crossed his mind, he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. A bandit was bearing down on Merlin, a brute of a man at least a head and shoulders taller. He had his weapon aimed high but before Arthur could open his mouth in warning, Leon was there, sword swinging with expert precision. Arthur gave him a nod before turning back to his own opponent, hard-pressed not to roll his eyes at Merlin’s relieved grinned. What did he expect – he was an easier target for anyone with eyes. 

The thought sent chills down his spine. He ended his attacker with a flourish before turning back to Merlin. Even then, it was too late. He heard the ‘twang’ of a crossbow, saw the bolt carve through the air on an impossible trajectory, missing all of the battling men. Until it reached its target. 

Merlin didn’t cry out. He just gave a soft ‘oomph’ as the bolt slammed into his unprotected body, high in his chest. Arthur snarled as another attacker got between him and his servant. One savage flick of his sword ended the man. 

Running forward, he already knew it was too late. But that didn’t stop him from dropping to his knees, hauling Merlin up, shaking him. 

“Merlin!” 

The man’s head just lolled to one side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, eyes shut. 

“Wake up, damn you! That’s an order.” 

But just like every other order Arthur had given him, Merlin didn’t follow this one either. 

“No,” Arthur muttered. It came out as more like a whimper. 

He was aware of the fight still raging around him. Gently, tenderly, he lay Merlin back on the ground. Then he stood, picking up his sword. 

No one stood a chance against his blade. He fought with reckless abandon, taking risks he’d never normally do. He left himself exposed, daring the bandits to come in closer, and, when they did, they met the sharp flash of steel.  

Once the initial press of men had eased, Arthur stopped fighting to kill. He wounded: shattering wrists, slicing legs. The bandits couldn’t fight back, but instead dropped to the ground, whimpering. They knew nothing of pain though, not what Arthur was going through. The only mercy they had shown was that Merlin’s death had been quick. It was a mercy he had no intention of allowing them. 

He stalked through the field of fallen men, delivering blows where he could, making sure none offered the quick release of death. He knew what he was doing, but he didn’t care. Some part of him – the rational part – was lying on the ground alongside his fallen servant. 

“Arthur, stop. You have to stop.” 

Gwaine’s hand landed on his shoulder. Arthur’s sword flicked around as quick as thought, the flat edge of the blade resting against the man’s neck. 

“Do not touch me,” he snarled.  

Gwaine had never responded to his title. But there was something in Arthur’s tone that made the man take a hurried step backwards, looking at the others for support. No one spoke. 

Arthur stood there, panting, resting the tip of his sword against the ground. It was smeared with blood, as was his hands, face and armour. All around him were the dead and dying, apart from four men standing frozen, watching him. 

Arthur left his sword where it was. Walking back to Merlin, he hoisted him into his arms. Already, the body was going cold and hung limply in his grasp. It felt so weightless in his grip. 

“Bring the prisoners,” he ordered coldly. “I want the pyres lit.” 

“Sire!” Leon gasped, look aghast. “You can’t-,” 

“I am the king,” Arthur said. He didn’t look at any of his men. “And they will burn for what they have taken from me.” 

-x- 

The attack came out of nowhere. 

One moment, they were riding through the forest. The king, as usual, took the lead but although Merlin was by his side, he kept turning to join in. Gwaine figured the man should’ve just dropped back to ride with them.The mood was jovial and light and they had no reason to suspect anything could go amiss. 

But in the next moment, arrows flew from the trees. They came from all directions, fierce shouts filling the air as bandits blocked the path in front of them. 

Adrenaline flooded Gwaine. His hand reached for his sword even as he glanced around, taking stock of the situation. 

“On me!”  

Gwaine prided himself on not always following Arthur’s orders. But when it came to a fight, he acted as one with the rest of the knights. He urged his horse forward, surging past Merlin and winking at the servant as he drew his weapon, flinging himself into the fight. 

It didn’t take long before he and Leon were the only ones still mounted. While it was harder fighting from horseback and he ran the risk of being dragged from the saddle with every passing moment, Gwaine knew what he was doing. He’d got into enough skirmishes of every kind long before he’d become a knight and it was no problem to keep his seat against thugs like these. 

His sword was an extension of his arm. He didn’t need to think. For a split second, he saw a bandit coming up behind Merlin, his sword raised high. But before Gwaine could shout a warning, let alone move, Leon was there. Gwaine grinned. He’d always been a loner up until now, but it was useful having friends around while in the middle of a fight. 

The back of his neck prickled. Gwaine could never have said what made him look around at that moment, but he was just in time to see a crossbow aimed their way. He somehow just knew that its trajectory would be a deadly one – and not the useful kind where the shooter would take down on of his own men for them. 

He moved without stopping to think what he was doing. 

“Look out!” 

He spurred his horse through the middle of the clashing men, flinging himself out of the saddle. He caught Merlin around the waist, sending him tumbling forward as they both crashed into Arthur. The king fell with a surprised cry, all three of them ending up on the ground. 

“What do you-,” 

Before Arthur could probably get his tirade going, there came a gurgled cry from above them. The man the king had been fighting dropped his sword with a startled expression, staring at the bolt sticking out of his chest. 

Merlin looked at Gwaine in amazement. 

“Thanks!��� 

“Any time.” He grinned at his friend. 

“You-,” Arthur stared between his fallen opponent and Gwaine. “How did you know?” 

“I’m lucky,” he said with a shrug, rising to his feet. “Thought you knew that by now.” 

He offered a hand and hauled Merlin up. Clapping him on the back, he grinned and dived back into the fight, wondering where his horse had gone. 

The knights might’ve been outnumbered but skill prevailed. It didn’t take long before the remaining bandits turned and fled into the trees. 

“Well, that could’ve been worse,” Elyan said as he tried to recatch his breath. 

“Yes.” There was something thoughtful in Arthur’s voice. “That could’ve been a lot worse.” 

Gwaine glanced up to see him and Merlin exchanging glances, small frowns on their faces as they looked at each other. Then Arthur shook himself. 

“We’ll have to increase patrols,” he said, striding for his horse.  

Leon seemed to be the only one listening. Percival was wrapping a bandage around Elyan’s arm and Merlin hurried over to help. 

Even as Arthur gave his orders and they all collected their horses and headed for home, Gwaine still couldn’t shake the feeling that could’ve gone a lot worse. 

But there was no point on dwelling on the what ifs. He shook it off and hurried to catch up with Merlin, needing someone to listen to how incredibly skilled he’d been in that fight. 

[eden-writes-stuff]

Febuwhump Day 14 - becoming the monster

late submission

Context: EPIC modern Au, before Odysseus Warnings: my brain is pretty braindead after 28 days of writing

Odysseus was standing before the gates of his estate, opening the can.

"Are you sure this is going to work?", Athena asked, crossing her arms. The beverage looked rather suspicious with it's neon green colouring.

"I've done this. Just trust me", Hermes insisted, nodding encouragingly.

They were like angel and devil on his shoulders. Although Odysseus wasn't sure who was who.

Athena shook her head "I really don't think this is what they mean when they say you are what you eat."

"Why would they call it Monster if it doesn't monster-fy you?", Hermes argued.

"The humans call it capitalism."

Odysseus chugged the entire drink before they could continue arguing. It tasted like liquid sour-worms.The deities looked at him in anticipation.

"How do you feel?", Hermes asked carefully after a moment.

"I am the monster", Odysseus replied, then hickuped once. "Raw raw raw."

[crimsonlyinglilly]

DAY 14: becoming the monster

More for @febuwhump, Five to go.

*New AU* Smile, the worst is yet to come.

No humanity! Elijah- Esther forces open the red door and Elijah shuts his humanity back behind it.

Set The Originals season 2 x 5 (spoiler for the Originals The Resurrection)

Also friendly shout out this can be blamed on @sometimesimperfectlybitchy

-----

Elijah fled the beast hunting him looking for signs of Klaus as he did, his little brother had just been with him and he couldn't leave him alone with the monster.

“Niklaus” he called as loudly as he risked, fear of alerting the beast fighting against his need to find and protect his little brother.

He misstepped, breaking a branch and froze as the sound seemed to fill the empty woodland air.

Suddenly the dark woods vanished replaced by an almost blinding white hallway.

“There, that's better.” The beast in the shape of a man smiled as he's stalked down the white hallways. Elijah looked for an escape, countless white doors but he didn't know what laid behind them. “I was growing tired of our game.”

Elijah took a few steps back trying to calm his rabbit fast heart beat.

“Really are we so weak that you'd crumple at a few spells and harsh words?” it asked as it drew to a stop.

Elijah froze as the question reminded him of everything.

Mother in a stolen body, dark promises, chains on his wrists as he was kept weak for her spells.

This was another attempt to force him to bow to her wants after the truth of Tatia's death hadn't made him fold, after the rest of the horrors he had hid from himself hadn't broke him.

“You know why you're in that form right?” the man in the tattered blood stain suit asked.

“Yes.” He said curtly, casting a brief look at his small, calloused but blood free hands.

He looked as he did the first time he took a life, he had been fourteen when he first killed a person. Father had taken him ‘to become a man’ and Elijah followed his orders. It was like a hunt he had told himself and unloosed an arrow watching it fly true to land in a man's throat. He had watched as the stranger choked on his blood, his life ended because Elijah had wanted to make father proud and he had.

Mother mourned her sweet boy turned monster, about lost innocence but he had lost that long before she made him into a vampire, she had stood by and let it happen. After all none of his younger brothers had gone with father after he brought up taking Klaus with them.

The beast- himself smiled.

“The loss of your innocence, what she so treasured or claims to, we both know all she only ever cared for you was as a spare pair of hands with the others. The children she could love.”

“That's not true.” he argued, he knew she felt different about him, born so soon after she lost another child but she had cared or she wouldn't have made him into a vampire.

“You know she’s trying to break you so she doesn't have to hurt the others as much,” it continued as if he hadn't said a word, “that even as she tortured you she was worrying about Klaus getting hurt by father.”

“He was going to get himself killed.” Elijah snapped, he had heard of her concerns though his spell induced dreams-nightmares.

“Worried about him? Even though knowing that you were captured, he still put his vendetta against Father before you. They trained you well” It sneered at taking a step forward, Elijah refused to retreat “and the rest, Marcel for all his claims of putting his guys first, and you were one of them, he chose Niklaus.”

“That's-” he started, it would make sense Marcel's survival was tied to Klaus' but before he could say that he was spoken over.

“I mean why wouldn't he?” He asked taking another step, “after you so coldly shut him out because of Klaus, there's also Hayley-”

“Hayley.” Her name left his mouth without permission.

“Yes” the man gave him a cruel smile, “the woman your in love with, she chose him to put his welfare before yours, it's always that way and you accept it. 

“It's not -” he tried but even to himself it was weak.

“Rebekah called father to New Orleans to harm him you weren't even thought of,” he was reminded as the man took another step forward, “your own sister couldn't even think of you in her grudge against Niklaus.”

 He clenched his teeth and glared.

“It's not even the first time her anger at Klaus harmed you.” he said, pausing to straighten out the stained suit, it looked clearer than before.

“Stop it.” Elijah ordered but was ignored.

“After all that white oak would never have been a danger to you, would never have killed Lisette if not for her, and still she didn't learn her lesson.

“SHUT UP!” He shouted, hating the way it echoed sounding every bit the child he appeared as. 

Her name dragged a pain he had long buried, the time they had lost before he failed to protect her, she died for him.

“I'm tired of it,” the man said firmly, distracting him from the fresh reminder of that grief, “your senseless self-sacrificing, accepting a mountain of disregard for every speck of love. We are better than that.”

Elijah realised he made a mistake as with the gap closed the other used his larger reach to catch him in a lunge.

“Stop!“ he snapped struggling uselessly in his adult self's hold as he was back walking towards one of the doors.

Elijah saw a glimpse of red before he was pushed back into the dark, he stumbled backwards, tripped and landed on a dirt floor.

“Relax, I'm sure I'll let you out eventually,” He offered, as Elijah pushed himself, the man took a step back clean of blood and in a fresh suit.

“I just have to teach a few lessons. It's time we become the Monster they think we are.” Elijah told him before leaving the child in the dark and letting the red door swing shut close.

---

The sound of the shifting of the chains gave away that he had woken, but Esther watched quietly, it was sooner than she thought for her stubborn son to wake.

There was a shaky exhale.

“M-mother.” he called softly

“Elijah,” she replied flatly, watching with narrowed eyes. Would she get more stubborn refusals or had he finally seen the truth?

“There's so much blood on my hands I can't-” he choked on his word, answering her as his head drop to his chest,“I can never make up for any of it, all the lives i destroyed, Niklaus-” a sob cut him off “I failed them all.”

“No, not yet.“ she told him, refusing to let the bitter triumph show but she felt her body relax at his raw voice, one down she thought.

“I failed you” he repeated his voice breaking midway though “I'm sorry”

“No my boy, we can fix this.”

“No!” he shook his head, moving violently that it shook the chains holding him “you’re right I'm a monster, all I do is destroy those I claim to love.”

“I’m here to help, together we can fix all our mistakes.” she said firmly, setting her hands on his cheeks and feeling him lean into them.

“Really?” he looked at her dark eyes watery but so much like the little boy that had once run to her for help, “I’m not beyond hope?”

“Never, you’re my son” she told him, gently wiping away the tears with her thumbs “I will not abandon you.” she promised

“How? How can I fix it? I want all the horror I've caused to go away.” he pleaded.

“You must trust me.” She told him, getting a teary nod, “first you’ll help me convince Niklaus, Rebekah and Hayley to accept my offer then we’ll put you in a new body and i’ll free you of the weight of your burdens and memories again.”

“Please.” he whined, looking at her with wide eyes

She took a step back once her spell released the chains, readying another to knock him out if this was a trick but she doubted it, Elijah tried so hard to be noble and proud he'd never lower himself to act like this.

She had done what she wanted, broken her strong boy, his siblings would follow him easier after this, as they always had. 

By targeting Elijah she spared herself the pain of doing the same to her Niklaus and Rebekah and even the poor girl they had caught up among them. 

Elijah was the first domino to fall.

Elijah once freed fell to the floor heavily making no attempt to catch himself or any sudden movement instead he drew himself inwards to make himself smaller.

There were the sounds of muffled sobs as he brought his hands up to cover his face.

She watched as he shuddered, crushing her guilt over the sight until caught a flash of fangs before he sunk them into the meat of one of his palms, and attempted to smother the sound of the remaining sobs perhaps.

She sighed,

“No, Elijah,” she called “there's no need to harm yourself.” She told him as she took a step closer to offer a cloth to clean himself with.

Everything changed in a moment.

The world spun and her back hit a wall hard winding her. She looked up to see Elijah smiling down at her coldly, eyes dry, his own blood of his pointed teeth.

It was an act?

“Our mistakes” he sneered, “you made the mistakes, I’ve just been trying my best to protect them all and what did it get me?”

“W-wh-” she tried before choking as a hand wrapped around her throat

“I took a little inspiration from those that came after us.” he explained as the hand remained unyielding, “You opened the door and I shut my annoying humanity behind it.”

No! Panic and fear flared and the full meaning of his words hit her, and Original with any humanity, Elijah was her most thoughtful child but without his morals he would be a true nightmare. 

Intelligent, ruthlessness and charming with nothing to hold him back.

“You can't have.” she wheezed.

“Oh but I did.” he smiled but his eyes were cold, lifting his bloody palm to her face, his own fingers digging into the wound to keep it open against his healing. “Mother, you thought I was a monster before.” 

Before she could do anything, she tasted Copper.

[aftepes]

Final day of Vincent Valentine week and day 14 of Febuwhump! I made it through all of Vincent Valentine week~

Becoming the Monster/Drip

Drip. Drip. Drip.

How long did it take him to realize this was his blood? That the drip-drip-drip pattering sound was coming from him, from the places his skin split, from the places he warped and reshaped and bent. No, that was him screaming. That was his voice, his vocal chords stretching around a throat too long to fit. A body that was no longer his.

Drip. Drip. Drip. dripdripdripdripdrip

Claws scrabbled at the coarse stone floor, he didn’t recognize them. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t recognize the ichor thick black blood puddling on the floor, splashing back against his face. The face that stretched apart to fit new teeth, sharp, hungry. He was changing. Everything was changing. And the way it peeled apart inside of him and out, splayed him raw and open like a single nerve, alight with pain. His back ripped open down the center, his body curled in on itself, like he could resist the change.

But there was no resisting this. There was no fighting the monster that was breaking out of him. The monster that he was. That lived inside of him, that itched under his skin. That they had made him. He screamed, he howled, the voice of the monster. The thoughts, the hurt of the monster. Nothing left of Vincent.

[cepheusgalaxy]

Febuwhump day 14 - Becoming the monster

CWs: Death, some blood mentions

The girl screamed as Totsuka stabbed her to the wall.

“You—” she choughed up blood. Her arms curled around the sword’s blade, wincing in pain at having her left shoulder atravessated by the metal. “You little shit. You know you shouldn’t do this.”

Totsuka slowly closed the distance between them, pressing her palm against the castle’s wall. She whispered on her ear.

“Why not?”

The girl shivered. Another cry of pain made its way out of her mouth. Totsuka didn’t move. She waited for an answer.

“If you kill me,” a groan. “If you kill me, you’ll be just as much as a monster as them.”

Totsuka looked away. Her red hair filled the corners of her vision, yellow tips consuming its ends. They had grown lighter lately. She raised her free hand to hold a curly lock between her fingers.

“If that’s it, then I don’t think I mind,” she admitted, at last. Her voice came out a bit colder than she had wanted to.

“You filthy traitor! Shit puppet for the Ringleader!” The girl spat, squirming under Tot. It was to no use. The spell stored on her weapon was already wearing her down. The girl uselessly tried to yank the sword out and free herself. She shouted more insults. Totsuka paid them no mind. She carefully unwrapped one of the tiny sacks hanging over her belt, picking a small, round gem from inside it and checking it against the sunlight.

The girl’s eyes widened.

Totsuka removed her sword from the wall, making the girl fall to her knees, a hand dashing towards her shoulder, protecting it. She whimpered.

Tot lifted up her blade, staring at her own reflection on it.

“Do you know why I’m here?” She asked the girl, squirming and still unable to get up. “Do you know why I’m putting up with this even this far?”

She shot up a venom glare on her direction.

“Because you are a heartless monster,” the girl hissed.

Totsuka stared at her own face in the reflection. There was a bit of dirt and blood smeared over her cheek. She wiped it out. Her palms were filled with small cuts from getting scratched with wood barbs and small accidents with her sword. Her eyes were a bit sunk and tired, but still golden.

Like Wen Min’s favorite shirt.

Or Leo’s hair. Or Chara’s earrings.

Like Reo’s headwrap.

She felt a light tug—so light it was barely a sting—in her soul.

Totsuka lowered down her weapon, holding it against the girl’s neck. She gave a coy smile.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Blood splattered over the ground and painted her blade.

Totsuka knelt down in front of the girl, fingers tracing her face.

The light in her eyes hadn’t gone out yet. Tot would have to wait a bit before taking what she wanted in the gem.

She let her face drop into a frown.

“Because I’m a monster.”

This took me all day + was my second try at it but it's done at last! Some of the concepts that sould be explained by context and lore are kind of random and that's not ideal but we can make this... Partially canon.

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[thieves-never-say-die]

he’s like a mirror, he sticks into our ears

Day 14: becoming the monster

Fandom: Leverage

Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of war and child death

Summary: The first time Eliot kills someone, he is eighteen years old. A look through Eliot’s life, and what he sees in the mirror.

Word Count: 650

ao3 link