#anesthesia movie

[n0-al-3n8y]

you know its bad when: ⬆️

characters part 3

tw sa implied, rant

memory is fujked. cant remember last time i felt joy but my fkjng brain dropped the worst bomb, memory i repressed for a few months and did that in the middle of a medical appointment while talking about a new medical trauma from this summer. my cptsd & schizophrenia were already acute but now dont know how to handle this "new" trauma. its way to fukng raw and vivid. feel so guilty for having this happening to me again. i hate my brain, just torturing me at this point, i dont want to re live that moment and others again and again

[hellsbroadcaster]

me: *putting on a horror movie* my sister: oh this movie scared me a lot me: why cuz you're a pussy? my sister: no, you'll find out *points to screen that has words explaining* me: *Staring at it intently* her: That's why me: Ohhhh ! ... yeah truthfully im not wearing my glasses so all I saw was fuzzy lines her: I hate you.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

A Cut

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 14. Set during RttE’s King of Dragons, Part 1. Hiccup almost avoids being hit by the harpoon aimed for the Titantwing Dramillion

Warning: Some violence

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Fishlegs, Meatlug, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Spitelout

Pairing: /

Words: 1 243

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Bleeding through the bandages, field medicine, no anesthesia

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: I could've written something really heavy, but I decided to keep it light for this one.

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

Hiccup saw the harpoon coming and made the split second decision to dodge out of the way. His left cheekbone burns intensely after. His heart pounding, unwilling to comprehend how close he's just come with death, he follows the direction it's going. Toothless’ gaze is only on him, having feared for a headless rider. The harpoon strikes the Titanwing Dramilion and it falls.

All he can do is shriek "no!" and give chase, but he and Toothless fail to keep the injured dragon from falling into enemy hands.

Watching as Johann and the Flyers flee the scene with the Dramillion, Hiccup barely notices the blood quickly seeping from his wound. Though Toothless can certainly smell the metallic tang in the air. One peek at his Rider and he's off to find Fishlegs.

-XOXOX-

Most of the Dragon Riders and Spitelout watch in strange fascination as Fishlegs tries his best to stop the bleeding. Hiccup sits on a rock as his friend holds his face. One hand cups his uninjured cheek, the other holds cloth to the cut. Toothless spaces from his one side to the other, keeping a close and worried eye on him.

"Do you guys really have nothing better to do?" He glares at his friends. "Like finding that Dramilion?!"

He’s in a bad mood for obvious reasons. He’s angry that they couldn’t save the Dramillion and that they’re forced to waste time treating his injuries instead of chasing after the Flyers. Fishlegs has a cloth pressed against his cheek, but it just keeps getting redder from all the blood he’s losing. It has already run down his throat and soaked through his tunic. That certainly doesn’t help either.

"Astrid's got it covered," Ruffnut speaks up.

"Yeah, and she's got it covered alone!" Hiccup protests. Another reason to be in a bad mood.

"Except she's not alone, she has Stormfly with her," she reasons. As if one dragon will matter to a fleet and the Flyers.

He can’t help but express his annoyance.

“Hiccup, don’t move!” Fishlegs protests, pulling his friend back. “This cut is very deep, I won’t be surprised if it’s gone down to the bone!”

“Man, your face is half off!” Snotlout remarks in disturbed fascination.

“Snotlout, my face is not “half off!” Hiccup sighs.

“You came close to losing yer face, boy-o. That harpoon almost took your head clean off!” Spitlout says, bellowing with laughter. Without a doubt, it’s going to be a good story to tell around the fire.

“That’s going to be such a cool scar,” Tuffnut helpfully states.

“You mean hot,” his sister argues.

Hiccup averts his gaze away from his friends, looking up at Fishlegs and patting Toothless’ nose. He hates being here when Astrid is all alone out there and when the Titanwing Dramilion- possibly the King of Dragons- is in danger. If they can somehow harness its mind controling powers… that would be disastrous.

Fishlegs' gaze meets his and there's an understanding between the two.

"Hey guys, can you go find me some medicinal herbs? I won't be able to stop this bleeding without them," he requests his friends.

"What? No, you don't," Snotlout crosses his arms.

"Come on, guys, I really need those herbs and Hurry! Hiccup is bleeding through everything I'm using!" He exaggerates.

"Actively dying here!" Hiccup ups the drama.

"No, he-" but before Snotlout can finish his complaint, Hookfang grabs his rider by the scruff and hauls him away. Meanwhile, Ruff and Tuff mount Barf and Belch and exclaim something about a quest before leaving. After Spitelout leaves the four of them have some peace.

A moment passes.

"Thanks, I really needed some peace and quiet," Hiccup thanks his friend.

"Oh, it's not a big deal," Fishlegs pulls the cloth away to see a fresh stream gust out of the cut. "But that cut is bleeding a lot, though."

"Don't most facial injuries?" Hiccup asks, remembering being told as such by the man in front of him.

Fishlegs regards him for a moment. He's right, but this one happens to be very deep. He presses a cleaner part of the cloth to his friend’s face, but it immediately colors a deep red. His hands are stained with it, too.

He sighs. He fears it might only stop bleeding when he stitches it.

“Meatlug,” he calls for his dragon and the Gronckle steps closer. Hiccup takes the cloth over from him to hold against his cheek as he rummages through his saddlebag looking for supplies.

-XOXOX-

“And… done!” Fishlegs remarks as he cuts the thread. The wound has been stitched and the bleeding has stopped.

Hiccup releases a breath, relieved that it's over. Just because his face was already burning as if on fire it doesn't mean that he didn't feel every sting of the needle pushed methodically into his skin or didn't feel his skin being pulled back together again.

"I'm okay, Bud," he tells his dragon. Toothless takes his paw back, he'd given it for Hiccup to take and squeeze in his lap. He licks the back of his hand. "Thanks."

"And thank you, Fishlegs. Both for stitching me up and for giving me some peace, I really needed it," he thanks him. The other Dragon Riders and Spitelout have yet to return from their mission to find botanical help.

He pats Toothless' nose.

"Oh, it's no problem, Hiccup. Really!" Fishlegs smiles at him. It's an expression Hiccup returns to the best of his ability, but it doesn't last long.

"Now we should probably find the others, catch up with Astrid before she catches up with the fleet," Hiccup says.

“Wait, right now? Hiccup, I just finished stitching you up, don’t you want to rest first?” Fishlegs asks and Toothless, too, seems to protest. He wants to chase after Astrid, too, but he would rather do it without risking his human.

“Fishlegs, it’s just a cut.”

“And it almost went down to the bone! You’re lucky you didn’t lose an eye! Or your life!” Fishlegs is exasperated. Of course, Hiccup wants to get right back up on his dragon and get to work.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

At that, Toothless all but roars in Hiccup’s face. He sits up right, paws using the human’s knees for support. He glares at him while the other stares up at him in surprise.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Toothless,” Fishlegs crosses his arms. Neither of them will be letting Hiccup leave.

The man must be in a lot of pain, because he sighs in defeat and concedes. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go flying with his face pounding like this.

“Fine,” he says. “But we have to catch up with Astrid.”

“I’ll find the others, we’ll go after Astrid and come back for you. I promise,” Fishlegs tells him and Meatlug approaches to let him mount up. She warbles at Hiccup, who pats her nose.

“Okay… If Snotlout and the twins give you trouble, just tell them that they’ll be doing patrol for a month if they don’t do what you say,” Hiccup tells him and he nods before Meatlug takes off. They leave Hiccup and Toothless behind.

The latter curls up around the former, his head ending up on his lap. Hiccup lays his arms on top of him and his chin follows slowly.

It stays quiet between them and a part of Hiccup is glad to stay behind with his Bud.

[indig0-constellations]

Thinking about how I wore my friends scooby natural shirt to get my wisdom teeth removed so when I woke up after the surgery I explained the entire plot of supernatural to my dentist and then to my mom the entire way back home.

[aaynkeijiwanttosleepsendhelp]

Me with a tooth recently extracted: *walks into a Walmart and sees a Barbie photobooth*

Also me to my brother: I'll take a photo that'll say "this Barbie has a tooth less".

[distort251]

Anesthesia (2015) / Director: Tim Blake Nelson

[tentacledtherapist]

Dearest Lisa,

I have missed writing to you, but I have had what feels like the longest month of my life. It truly feels like my body is decaying away sometimes, and never do I get a break.

Only now, just before dawn, do I write to you, sitting under the low hanging aurora borealis that skirts farther south than normal today, deep in the wilderness on the other side of the country, as the fog clears over the lake. My only moment of peace, after I have been running and running and running, and I slow to a stop here and think of you. And I know it is time to write.

Things have been busy! Normally after a weekend where I am very active I need nearly a week to rest (as I mentioned my body is truly falling apart!) But I haven't had a single moments rest this month so the feeling like I am running is true to form. I've had business every single weekend and other business and doctors nonsense during the week. I'm preparing for a mild surgery next week (hence all my appointments) and since I won't be able to do anything while recovering I obviously had to make up for it in the month running up to it. Hopefully all goes well? If only I truly could just be stitched together and be done with it. Probably easier to deal with it that way, hobble along with a new leg or hand or whatever immediately rather then this fabled "bed rest" that's all the rage these days~! I did get some x-rays in preparation if you'd like to see them. Not exactly a face reveal but they're fun to look at that's for sure. (Is it weird I think my spine looks pretty? It's an experience to see your own Vertebrae.)

I really hope you're doing well. How has your project been going? I cannot wait for you to post the final result. Anything particularly interesting happen while I was away? I thought of you often even amidst the chaos!

Take care,

Your Creature

adam!

oh, creech, i missed you! i was worried. i hoped you were okay but i didn’t know what you were going through and i didn’t want to add to any potential stress so i figured i would just wait until you were able to talk again. i thought about you a lot, hoping you were well. i’m glad you are (at least relatively)

i get the struggle when it feels like your body is falling apart. just last year i spent every weekend in a different doctor’s office trying to figure out why my joints were suddenly shutting down. lots of poking and prodding and x-rays and MRIs and blood tests, i felt like a pincushion. (as it turns out, my white blood cells are hyperactive, and have been attacking the healthy tissue in my joints! i also have 1/3 of a thyroid cause of that!) i’m sorry you have to go through this all now. it’s exhausting and disheartening and monetarily draining to be constantly in and out of doctors offices. i’m glad you’ll be getting some rest at least post surgery. I hope it all goes well for you, i know how stressful surgery is

i would like to see x-rays, if you’d like to share them! i don’t think it’s particularly odd to think your own spine is pretty, it is a very cool series of bones. i wish my doctors had sent me copies of my MRIs and x-rays to hang onto, but all i have are memories…

my project has unfortunately been put on hold. i have all the pieces together but i have very little time to actually work on it. i’m in the final stages of my thesis as it stands right now, so i have only a few weeks to get it to its final draft of this stage! stressful stuff. in between working on my paper, i’ve also been spending time at the encampments on my campus. mine has been mostly peaceful because the mayor of my city has been very outspoken in calling off the police that my chancellor keeps calling in, but it is scary. i’ve had a gun pointed at me in a school environment multiple times, but it doesn’t get less intimidating. regardless, i refuse to stand by while israel commits genocide “in my name” just because i’m jewish or whatever (even though that’s very clearly not their motivation nor is it any of the other things they’re spouting.)

i didn’t get lucky enough to see the aurora, unfortunately. it supposedly was visible as far south as where i live, but i wasn’t able to see it through light pollution and cloud cover. i have photos from some friends farther north, but i didn’t get to see it myself

it must have been beautiful

- Your Lisa

[cherubxkisses]

so like, as a feminist- do you think this is normal? that you feel rage about your feminist movie not winning an oscar??? while you stay silent about the women in gaza having to use tent scraps as period products, having forced miscarriages, having c-sections without anesthesia, being sexually harassed, being abused, AND being killed???? is the occupation’s mistreatment of women in Palestine not a valid enough feminist issue for you?

[whumpacabra]

Twilighted

Anesthesia, nonconsensual drugging, needle use, cauterization mention, misunderstanding, semiconscious

[Directly follows What are Friends For?]

There were voices, watery and distant. He was so cold. He couldn’t feel his hands. He could feel the ache in his thigh, pulsing and warm. He could feel the hand that tilted his head back.

His adrenaline soaked system shocked back to life, eyes snapping open and the knife in his hand flying to ward off the hands that weren’t his own. His attack was easily intercepted, a gentle squeeze releasing the knife he clumsily grasped to the bathroom floor.

He was breathing too fast, the air was too thin - but his vision was adjusting, Sarah’s face swimming between tears.

“It’s just us,” She sounded too soft to be Sarah, “We got you.” The brief adrenaline rush was already wearing off, his eyelids heavy as he watched the vague shape of Harrison enter the bathroom.

“Oh shit,” There was the sound of a gun being slotted into its holster, “Is he - ?”

“He’ll be fine. Couldn’t have done a better job myself.”

David felt a smile tug at his lips. Sarah so rarely complimented anyone, let alone him. Tell me you got that on camera, he wanted to say. His mouth felt like cotton and tasted like copper. He must have bit his cheek too hard at some point last night.

Sarah’s hands were warm against his freezing skin, one to his forehead holding his head up and one squeezing the hand he hadn’t tried to stab her with.

“Oh my God,” He knew that voice. He knew it but couldn’t think without the radiating pain wracking his brain.

“Cooler. Now. Thank you - go two doors down and find some clean clothes for him in the dresser. Please.” Harrison sounded weird ordering people around. But he was good at it.

“Hey, Dave?” He squinted at Sarah, bleary eyes struggling to focused. “I’m gonna twilight you; alright?” No. Not alright.

“…n’uh,” was the best he could manage. No. If he wanted that he would have done it after he finished cauterizing his leg last night. Maybe. He didn’t actually remember when he decided it was done enough to sleep.

“I know, I know. It’s for your own good.”

His whimpers were as emphatic as he could make them, twisting away from her warmth. He was cornered in the tub, strong hands holding out his arm. He could hear the needle cap click off. The cold kiss of a sterilizing wipe. The needle.

No. Oh no. Nonononononononononononono.

“Shhh,” Harrison cooed from somewhere else in the room. It was getting hard to keep track…

—

Sarah swallowed hard as she withdrew the syringe, her own hands shaking as David’s incoherent begging quieted to sobs, his head lolling listlessly and eyes damp with tears.

The twisted regret of betrayal burned in her gut. He would never have done that to her, even for her own good. He was too kind. But kindness alon wouldn’t keep anyone alive.

“It’s better this way.” Harrison’s hands were steady as he took the needle from her and tossed it to the sharps bin.

“What did you do?” Mr. Pinkerton’s voice was soft, the clothes in his hands hitting the bathroom tile floor almost as softly. Harrison stood and faced him, but before he could speak the older man had him pinned to the wall by his throat. “What the hell did you do to him?”

His snarl was sharp and threatening. Sarah tensed but didn’t move; Harrison wouldn’t be happy if she hurt him, but it didn’t look like she would have to. Mr. Pinkerton wasn’t a strong man, even compared to Harrison, who was slowly peeling the hand from his throat as tears welled behind Mr. Pinkerton’s wire frame glasses.

��It’s just anesthesia - he hates being…he doesn’t like to be vulnerable like that. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before he started crying.” Harrison wasn’t a people-person - not the way RJ was - but he did have a significant number of years in therapy under his belt compared to the rest of the team.

“Why - he needs - why not a hospital?” Mr. Pinkerton’s breathing was erratic but slowly returning to normal. He could see the rise and fall of David’s chest, the occasional blink of tear thick eyes. He didn’t see the look Sarah and Harrison exchanged.

“It’s complicated.” Harrison decided on, leading him away by the shoulder as Sarah began inspecting David’s work in full. Cauterization could be as delicate as it was brutal. He stooped to pick up the clothes Mr. Pinkerton had brought - and dropped on the blood stained floor. “Let’s grab some clean clothes for him.”

[Directly before Ride Home]

(Part of my Freelancers: Post-Retirement series)

[cosmicpuzzle]

Occupations Signified by each Planet 👩🏻‍💻💼💰💸

Sun: Politics, entertainers, military and army commanders, directors, Government officials, public servants, ministers, Prime Ministers, Presidents, Governors.

Moon: Nursing, babysitters, chefs, coast guard, navy, real estate agents, kindergarten teachers, import export, restaurants, clothing, grocery shop.

Mars: Dentist, surgeon, butcher, real estate builders, mechanical/civil engineers, cooks, bodyguards, army, military, airforce, chemists, mechanics, hair cutters, fabrication, marital arts, firefighters, masseuses.

Mercury: Accountants, bookkeepers, data analyst, all types of data work, teachers (especially school), consultants, writers, businessmen, traders, astrologers, speech therapist, language translators, bankers, media personnel, journalist, social media manager, mathematicians, computer operators, customer support, lawyers, coders, programmers, minister.

Jupiter: Lawyers, judge, priest, mentors, advisors, coach, sports coaches, teachers, professors (college level), financial consultants, legal counsel, travel agent, preachers, spiritual teachers, Gurus.

Venus: Artist, movie stars, celebrity, musicians, dancers, singers, jewelers, luxury car dealers, sweet shops, marriage counselor, interior designers, fashion designers, textiles, perfume dealers, air hostess, sex workers, makeup artist, brokers, painters, designers, holiday or vacation agents, ambassadors.

Saturn: Manual jobs, masonry, carpenter, iron or steel worker, geologist, servants, oil and gas worker, executioner, mortician, social service, gardener.

Rahu: Technology, programmers, scientist, nuclear management, toxic chemicals, anesthesia, visa agents, advertising, online jobs, online marketing, drug specialists, alcolol dealers, smartphone service.

Ketu: Astrologers, psychics, monks, nuns, medical workers, doctors, pin hole surgeons, charity, social service, mathematicians, clock and watch makers, black magicians.

For Readings DM

[dandylovesturtles]

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2

[lewisvinga]

margaret | alex albon x fem! reader

summary; moments when alex knows that y/n is the one for him. when he knows that he will spend the rest of his life with her.

warnings; suggestive comment n that’s all i think 🥸

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

word count; 1.1k

note; WHEN YOU KNOW YOU KNOW. slight crazy rich asians reference lol

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

“Y/n, you don’t need to-“

“Shut up, Alex. You are not getting up without help.” Y/n huffed when she saw Alex trying to get up from the couch. It was only a few days after he had gotten his appendix removed and she swore to take care of him. That meant she would listen to everything the doctor said despite her boyfriend’s protest.

The Thai driver lets out a deep sigh at his girlfriend's determination. Their relationship was fairly new. They have only been together for a few months before getting appendicitis. The way Y/n cared for him made it seem like they’d been married for years.

“Don’t sigh at me like that. It took you five minutes to walk down the hallway!” She exclaimed, fluffing the pillows around him and making sure he was comfortable.

He completely understood her worry. He had a bad reaction to the anesthesia. He had to be put into an induced coma due to respiratory issues. Although the doctors and nurses had said he was fine and clear to start regular recovery, she still worried for him.

While Y/n was preparing a soup that his mother gave her the recipe for, Alex was stuck in his thoughts. He never had a girl care for him so much as Y/n did.

She made sure he was always comfortable. She had reminders on her phone to give him his medicine. She prepared every meal for him and helped him simply move around the house. She made sure to keep his favorite shows and movies playing to make sure he wasn’t getting bored. And even in between classes and studying, she was by his side.

He remembered asking his mom once years ago how he would know if he found the one. She just told him that when he knows, he’ll know.

Alex knew he had only been in a relationship with Y/n for a few months. However, seeing her making his childhood favorite soup just for him and taking care of him was enough for him to know.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Alex, your tie is all messed up.” Y/n huffs when she notices his navy blue tie wasn’t even tied properly as they were leaving their hotel room.

“I think it’s a look,” Alex said with a proud smile but she playfully rolled her eyes in response.

“Not for Carmen and George’s wedding.” She sighs, walking up to him. “Although I much rather prefer you without this.” She added with a smile as she gestured to his blue suit. Her comment made him let out a loud laugh while she fixed his tie for him.

“And I prefer you without this,” Alex said with a smile, his hands finding her waist as he glanced over the strapless silk baby-pink dress she wore. Carmen requested that her bridesmaids wear pink, and that made the Thai driver let out a shout of excitement. He just couldn’t resist Y/n in baby pink.

“You look amazing though, my love.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear once she finished fixing his tie. She gently grasps his navy blue suit and stands on her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

“C’mon, pretty boy. We got a wedding to be in.”

Just an hour and a half later, they were both lined up at the altar. Y/n was on Carmen’s side along with the other bridesmaids and Alex was on George’s side with the groomsmen, including Lando.

It was already time for the exchanging of the rings and the Thai driver couldn’t keep his eyes off his girlfriend of two years. Something about her was making her glow. The pink dress paired with her blown-out hair and her soft sparkly makeup made him not even be able to move his eyes.

He had a lovesick smile as he saw George slip the ring onto Carmen’s finger from the corner of his eye. Y/n’s eyes met his and she wore a smile. I love you he subtly mouthed to her.

Her smile grew wider as she mouthed back I love you. Neither realized that the couple already exchanged their rings and just had their first kiss. Everyone around them erupted into cheers as they kept their eyes on each other.

Alex made sure to make a mental note to ask George to go ring shopping with him once the Mercedes driver was back from his honeymoon.

Because Alex knows. He knows that Y/n is the one.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Okay, don’t be mad at me,” Y/n said as she held her hands up, walking into their shared home with shopping bags hanging off her arms.

Alex let out a noise shocked noise as he recognized the designer brands. “Y/n, what did you do?”

“I couldn’t help myself!” She exclaims, rushing over to sit beside him on the couch. “Look at what I got from Goyard though.” She continues as she grabs the dark green bag.

“Y/n-“

“Alex!” She interrupted him as she pulled out the Chien Gris bag in a burgundy color. “It’s for our baby.” She gestures to the grey Bengal kitten sleeping on his lap. She pulled out a matching collar.

“It’ll look so cute on her, babe. Imagine me running errands with her in my bag with a matching collar!”

Alex stares at Y/n in disbelief as she tries to justify her impulsive purchase. She wore a pout on her lips as she held up the bag and collar in her hand. “Think about it, Albon. Think!”

They stared at each other for another minute before he finally gave in. “Okay, I’ll admit it. It would be really cute.” He said with a smile. “Now show me what else you got, pretty girl.”

Alex’s words sparked excitement in Y/n as she moved to sit on the carpeted floor with her bags surrounding her. He wore the same lovesick grin as he watched her show him her new purchases, including a matching bracelet for the both of them.

His mind wandered off to the small black box hidden deep in his gym bag, the one place he knew she would never search in. Inside it, there was a diamond ring that George helped him pick out. The Mercedes driver and his wife are preparing for the proposal when the couple goes out for a date later that night.

He was hours away from proposing and instead of being nervous, he was watching his future wife unbox her new pink Miu Miu bag.

Alex’s mother was right because when he knows, he knows, and he definitely knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/n.

[simonrillleyyysss]

oh man I’m so off timing for your opened requests and I apologize dearly for that. but I have to write this SOMEWHERE or I will definitely forget it. can you write something like ghost x reader (fem or gn idm!!) and reader has just woken up from surgery and they’re like high as hell off of the anesthesia and they’re singing tunes and blabbering random things out? (like facts about anything really) and they’re being really loud while ghost tries his best to shush them as he’s trying not to burst out into laughter? oh and I don’t mind if you add the reader randomly crying in it. it’s much needed. tysm hun!<33

this is so cute 😭😭

he would be so chill, sat at the side of the hospital bed with his phone in his hand, typing away while momentarily peeking up at you; watching u stir in ur sleep!! when you wake up?? he’s immediately whistling at you; listening to your giggles!!!

would be so confused, yet amused as you looked over at him with a dumb smile, your arms slowly outstretched towards him; high as a kite.

‘hheelooo kiittyy..!’

‘y’alright, sugar?’

‘heeey!’

you demanded, slurring and shaking your head; blinking a few times to process everything happening, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

‘iiicc..ivveeee ggott a boeyfrennd! your handsssommnbuttt…”

“yeah? i am your boyfriend, love.’

you’re so zoned out and confused, staring at the large man infront of you, giggling to yourself a few times, his hand intertwining with your own, humming.

would let you babble and rant about everything,turning on the tv so you could watch a disney movie—slurred lyrics coming from your mouth; humming n’ closing your eyes!!

‘let it gooo!’

‘babe, baby..rest.’

would watch as you broke into hysterical sobs; sniffling and whinging dramatically; head thrown back and wails coming from your throat; clinging onto him.

‘tuummyyy!’

would kiss ur tummy, before finally getting a nurse in to assist you <3

will always tease you for it!

[raainberry]

Cross The Line - I

« It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything. »

Mina x gn!reader

synopsis - if you promise not to step foot in her hospital again, the line disappears, right?

wordcount - 3K

T/W - resident!mina x fighter!reader. mentions of violence, injuries, food. (reader is involved in an underground fight club) medical environment. angst for now and dahyun guest starring😎

A/N - i have decided to make this into a movie. it serves as a prologue to the series but tbh i feel like you can get it without it if you want. Enjoy!

You don’t know if she noticed you.

The minutes passed by, and so did she; a few times. You watched from your seat as you waited for your name to be called, various scenes from silly incidents to more serious ones, old people to kids...

The place was bustling, you could feel your head getting heavier, only keeping it up just in case Mina appeared. She seemed busy, focused. She must have a lot on her mind.

How selfish would it be to wish you were on it too?

You wondered, feeling the familiar tug at your heart when she took the time to reassure a little girl across the room. You could make out the tears staining her cheeks despite how far you were sitting, and witnessed how quickly they dried up under Mina’s gentle voice.

How wrong would it be to feel jealous?

You shook the ridiculous thought away, just in time to hear your name finally get called out. The voice was familiar, but not the one you were hoping for. Sweet, but not enough.

Your gaze left Mina’s figure to meet her dear friend’s, a nurse you’d gotten to know more than the one you heart longed for. She let you call her by her name, but only if you promised not to overstep the set of obvious boundaries that came with it.

You gave your word, although it was tempting to take it back. Everytime Dahyun assisted in your care, you fought the need to ask her anything about Mina. You only faltered once, anesthesia having gotten the best of you after a long set of stitches.

You had the decency to wait until Mina stepped out of the room before asking about her love life. That’s how Dahyun came to know of this… mess of emotions between the two of you.

She never answered you, but she did have questions to which she tried to pull the answers to from Mina herself a few hours later.

Nearly a year later now, and she was still trying. Pieced a few of them together over time and rare, quiet wine drunken nights, but it was nowhere near enough to uncover the reasons.

The ones behind your visits, not your interest in her best friend. She has glasses but she’s not blind.

Although she did wonder what still had you so hung up after years.

If you knew yourself, you probably wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Do you guys have lunch breaks?" Your voice was quiet in an attempt to conceal how awkward you felt.

You were sat on a similar table as your last time here, only surrounded by proper walls this time. Still as blank and unstimulating, letting your mind roam free and back to Mina.

Dahyun paused in her tasks.

This was her third time seeing you, and it was the first time you’d spoken to her without her needing to pull the words out of you.

She cleared her throat, setting down the tools she’d just used to get your cast off. "We do.” She answered hesitantly. “Why wouldn't we?"

The room fell silent once again as you gazed at your weakened arm, turning her question rhetorical. Dahyun only chuckled at the sight before offering some reassurance, "I'm going to show you a few rehabilitation exercises. Your arm will be back to normal in no time."

You simply nodded, your eyes glued to the foreign feeling in your limb. "Do I need to rest it?"

Dahyun’s eyebrows furrowed at your question, but kept her curiosity to herself. Not everyone has her knowledge, she tended to forget it so she cut you some slack although something in her itched to be nosy.

She watched as you tentatively moved your arm, clenching your fist as if trying to regain familiarity with it. "Just avoid putting excessive strain on it.” She finally said, causing you to stop. “No intense use for a couple of weeks, and it should be fine."

"A couple weeks..." You muttered. This wasn’t good. Money was getting short. “Can I have some paper and a pen?”

It was getting hard to do, but Dahyun concealed her confusion again before fulfilling your request, observing as you used your weakened hand to scribble something barely legible.

“Does that count as exercise?" You playfully questioned, causing Dahyun to chuckle.

“It could, yeah." She nodded and you smiled, glancing back at your writing before handing it to her.

“Hopefully she can read it.”

You don’t need to say anything else. Not even her name. Dahyun knew who you were referring to.

You were sure of it, but she managed to make you second guess - yourself and your own intentions - when she tensed up in front of you.

Her hand didn’t reach for the piece you offered of yourself. As futile and impersonal as it was, you couldn’t help but take offense at her doubts.

“Please.” You muttered. It was pathetic. It felt like it too. But it was worth the discomfort if it meant convincing the woman standing before you. Her silence was painful, it almost made you laugh. She wasn’t even the one you were trying to reach.

Were you even allowed to feel so troubled yet?

Rightfully so. Dahyun took forever to make up her mind, staring long enough for your arm to fatigue.

Part of her didn’t want to enable and push her best friend into what looked like a hopeless abyss. Mina deserved much more. She deserved something safer, easier than whatever you brought to the table.

Then again this wasn’t her place to say. This wasn’t her game to play.

She just hoped Mina wouldn’t dismiss its risks.

—

Mina looked down at the paper in her hand, her features tensed in a mix of surprise and apprehension as she processed the words she’d managed to decipher.

« I’ll try really hard not to visit ever again, so if you ever miss me and have a moment to spare : xx xxx xxx. »

She took the numbers in as they slowly burned themselves into her mind. She tried to suppress that small hope within her as it prayed you’d written them well enough.

Needless to say it was a vain attempt. Her thoughts were scattered and she struggled to compose herself.

“What are you going to do?" Dahyun's voice broke an eerie silence that had settled itself in the break room, and Mina exhaled softly, her gaze lingering on your message.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, meeting Dahyun’s eyes. "It's complicated, you know that."

Dahyun nodded, understanding. Or at least she hoped it came across as because quite frankly she had no idea.

It was complicated, yes, but for her, the next step was a no-brainer.

"Maybe it's worth considering," she offered, her words gentle. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

That pulled a chuckle out of the black haired woman next to her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, but someone who needs to be stitched up every few months can’t not be involved in something dumb or careless.” Dahyun pointed out, but it only amused Mina even more. “I’m serious.” The nurse chuckled despite herself, “Something’s not right.”

“I can take care of myself.” Mina reassured, “I’m sure it’s nothing too bad. Careless maybe, but not dumb either.”

“How would you know?” Dahyun probed as Mina piqued at the nosiest part of her.

Mina only shrugged though, considering the paper in her hand. The weight of your message briefly pulled her thoughts back to the unspoken moments, the lingering emotions that built and shaped this odd link between the two of you.

"Just a feeling.”

—

“Looking to kill your winning streak?”

The coach’s voice resonated in the warehouse and you huffed out a breath, keeping your eyes from rolling back into your brain only to look at him instead. “What are you being so shy for? Hit it, damn it!”

You stayed silent, your jaw clenched shut to keep the thoughts in your head. The punching bag still swung back and forth behind you as you reached for the small bottle of water he was handing you.

The small ‘thank you’ you mumbled was enough for him to get off your back about respect and whatnot, but he still clung onto it about your arm.

“It’s been weeks, Y/n, you’ve had plenty of time to recover, come on…” He said, opting for a more gentle approach.

The switch up didn’t surprise you. He wasn’t exactly stable, but he was good at his job. Good enough to run this whole thing smoothly. You’d respect him if he weren’t so corrupt, pulling at big kids desperate enough for life to ruin it for them. People like you. Exposing them, showing them off in a violent spectacle only the richest could afford to enjoy.

The scheme was vicious. Designed to make staying in the only way out. To make him the only one you could turn to when life’s biggest troubles got too big to ignore.

He knew you well enough by now to know the gentle card wouldn’t work, but that’s also how he knew he had to give it a shot anyway. If not take action, you could open up.

You could, but you wouldn’t. Not to him. Your relationship didn’t allow it, as much as he tried to shape it that way over the years. Not that he was pushing it, he was decently nice. He cared. Just not enough.

You could feel it in the way he watched you, silent while his eyes questioned whatever you did he didn’t understand - which was almost always linked to whatever didn’t fill his pockets.

The edge of the ring pushed into your thighs as you took a seat there, staring into the space in front of you. Your gaze was vacant, you could feel yourself zone out, thoughts begging to drown into your heart and its selfish desire to burn over Mina’s absence; but the coach shaking his head kept you over the surface.

Seeing you space out was new, but he didn’t like how familiar the sight was getting.

You expected his rough tone to spit at you any second, but he surprisingly stayed calm. Too calm. So your eyes left the void to check on him, and his demeanor was all but reassuring.

You could feel his impatience grow by the second, the frustration practically radiating from him was off-putting, but the silence… It was as scary as it was encouraging.

“I need more time.” You finally said.

The words didn’t please him. They didn’t make you happy either. You’d love to be able to hit that bag as you used to just months ago.

“We can’t do that. People are damn near jumping the fence to see you fight, Y/n, you have to come back.”

“They’ll be fine.” You brushed off, feeling the guilt slowly weigh off your shoulders at the desperation in his voice. Something about hearing him beg, even implicitly.

You suddenly rose to your feet, feeling yourself growing wings as you clung onto the third rope of the ring. Entertaining the conversation seemed pointless, so you turned your back on him to get back to training. Something he made sure to prove as a mistake... He didn’t hesitate to burn those wings at the first sight of them.

He never did.

“But you won’t.” You heard him say. The words were heavy, probably because of how fast he’d thrown them at you.

Your features twitched, eyebrows creasing as you tried to argue, “I’m not ready.”

The weakness was bitter, obvious and unfair. Unfitting for a moneymaker like you. If anything you should be the one dictating things.

Yet he somehow always kept the reigns.

“You never were.”

—

His last words ran laps in your mind.

As hard as you tried to alter their course, nothing seemed to stop them. Nothing seemed to change.

The following days melted into themselves, fogging your memory with nothing but defeat.

You felt disoriented. Hopeless. Hurt. Yet somewhat motivated by it all. Problem was you had no goal to put it into.

This fighting thing proved itself to be nothing but a fickle string of glory. A glory you failed to even enjoy. Sure, the underground and illegal part of it didn’t help, but everyone around you seemed to do just fine.

Maybe you’ll ask them about it tomorrow. How they do it. For now you paced around the room, searching for a solution, only for your brain to come up with thoughts of her. You’d long passed the point of it being and feeling pathetic, surrendering to the insanity of the situation. Your soul yearned for the sense of peace she brought with her mere presence, and her absence was suffocating.

Why? It’s not like you were close. All she did was flirt back, it was no reason to get so attached.

You felt insane. Out of mind. All because of that bridge you’d humiliated yourself into trying to hold together.

Maybe giving her your number was a mistake. Maybe you’d have been better off keeping your distance.

Crossing those rarely ever was good.

—

Later that day, your apartment was cloaked in a hushed ambiance, the only source of light emanating from the soft glow of the TV screen as you absently filled up on what felt like a last meal.

A light, protein heavy collation you had no pleasure in swallowing. The only reason you were doing so was not to pass out mid-fight the next day.

You couldn’t go back to her. Not there.

So you folded into the old routine, only finding comfort in your favorite show playing in the background. It was a nice, fleeting distraction from the weight of your impending return to the fight club.

The night was slowly falling silent outside your walls. Your plate emptied itself slowly as episodes followed each other with few breaks in between. You nearly fell asleep from the monotony of it all, but the sound of your phone vibrating against the table jolted you back to full consciousness.

The screen had lit itself up, drawing your attention to the screen. An unknown number and a message that only made sense after connecting a few dots.

« I have a moment. »

Mina's words, a lifeline in the midst of this mounting anxiety.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, the weight of your feelings pulling them down to write and erase every word that came to mind before settling on a much simpler approach.

« Would you mind if I called? »

On the other side of the screen, Mina’s heart fluttered much to her dismay. Needless to say she was apprehensive, eyes fixated on your text while its content resonated in her mind. It stirred a few feelings she’d kept away and guarded for far too long now.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to, but she knew she had to try. She owed it to herself. She’d risked too much, jeopardized too much of her sanity over you to leave without answers.

So she called.

This type of adrenaline was nothing compared to the one you got in the ring. The ring, it was cold. Chilling. The things you did, that you’ve done to get to where you were… It was a rush you were getting used to.

This one was different. Warm. Thrilling. It was new. A rush you looked forward to. No matter how much you denied yourself it.

“Hello?” You spoke into the phone after raising it to your ear. The line was silent for a second before you heard the soft timbre of her voice greeting you back.

Three weeks was the shortest time you’d gone without hearing it yet there you were; practically giggling to yourself over the few words you managed to exchange. The first ones that didn’t revolve around an injury or her scolding you for using her first name.

You made sure not to use it though, as you told her about this colorful place you liked to hang at. It wasn’t the most vibrant, but you found the atmosphere to be fitting for a talk. Cute even, if you’d dared to say.

Mina couldn’t help the flutter of her heart, the burning in her veins traveling all the way to her cheeks as she listened to you trying not to stutter over your words as you basically asked her out.

She could - and she would - have agreed to meet you in the following second, but something held her back, unlike the words pouring out of her mouth with no control, “Sounds lovely. But I don’t know…”

A small silence took over the line as you thought, “What… do you mean you don’t know?”

“It’s just that…” Mina sighed, “The hospital—”

“I’m not a patient anymore, Mina.” You cut her off, desperately clinging onto the small opening. Mina could sense that, letting her frustration slip into her tone.

“Yes, but for how long?” Another silence. Heavier this time. Longer. “We can’t know, right?”

Mina’s voice rung through the line, startling a thought you’d been dying to voice out to her.

“You can’t, but you do know something.”

“What?”

“You know exactly why I can’t make sure to never come back.” You partially confessed in hopes she would understand. “Don’t act dumber than you are, Dr. Mina.”

“That’s the thing, Y/n. I’m not.” She sighed. “I’m not. I don’t know why you show up in such states, I shouldn’t want to know as bad as I do, but something about you makes me—”

Mina stopped herself, realizing what her words were leading to. Somewhere a little too real and raw too quickly. She fought the tears begging to relieve her frustrations, and opted for another sigh. One soft, barely noticeable and far too weak to have any effect on her state of mind.

“It feels like I’m playing with fire.”

For the first time since you’d heard it, the sound of her voice hurt. You could tell how much it cost her to say those words. Just above a whisper, tainted by the shadows of her unshed tears. Ever so softly, like it would glide over the lines, the cracks staining the distance and reach you with no consequences.

“Listen…” You started. “I know you’ve been… curious about me. I know you’ve made your guesses, your bets, and I don’t know what those are. I can’t say I don’t care, because I do, but I have enough self-awareness to know they’re not the most positive.”

You paused in order to gather your thoughts. The next words you’d utter felt like the most important of your life. How worthless had it been… “I feel crazy just asking you this - I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but… I just want to see you. Talk to you, anything that’s not you fixing me up.”

There was a small silence again. It’s agonizing, not being able to tell where this was going. All you could do was wait. You were tired of it but it was suddenly worth it all. The pain, the silence, the longing. The quiet tears you let go off in the dark, the memories and wonders of her gentle soul tormenting you days after your stays.

“I want to see you too.”

[welcometothewoes]

Anyway Heavy Sleeper x Light Sleeper prompts - from fluffy to h/c-ish

Light Sleeper gently carrying Heavy Sleeper to bed after both of them dozed off on the couch during a movie night.

Heavy Sleeper accidentally alerting Light Sleeper as they get up to go to the bathroom at 3 AM, so they whisper "Sorry, love" and try to make as little noise as possible.

Light Sleeper is awoken in the middle of the night by external sources (outdoor traffick, bird chirping, etc) and, seeing that they can't fall back asleep right away, they just cuddle up to Heavy Sleeper and let themselves rest comfortably until they're back out.

Heavy Sleeper has to get up earlier for work than Light Sleeper, and despite their best efforts to be gentle and quiet, Light Sleeper stirs up every morning when they hear Heavy Sleeper's alarm, the consequent scurrying about and the meek creak of the door when they enter the bathroom. The few times that routine didn't wake up Light Sleeper were in vain, because Heavy Sleeper couldn't resist planting a kiss on their forehead as they were leaving anyway.

Light Sleeper getting nervous before a minor surgery, not because they're that scared of being cut open, but because of the possibility of waking up during it, and Heavy Sleeper reassuring them that anesthesia will do its job.

Heavy Sleeper is a workaholic who deliberately postpones sleep and goes to great lengths to stay awake for as long as possible, because they know that once they let themselves shut their eyes, they won't rise again for at least ten hours + an alarm clock is pretty useless in their case. Toss in a worrywart of a Light Sleeper who finds them napping hunched over their desk and go.

Light Sleeper stirs up from their sleep when they hear whimpering and tossing, only to see that Heavy Sleeper is having a nightmare. Worried, Light Sleeper tries to gently shake them awake, but it takes Heavy Sleeper awhile to jolt up because they're so notoriously hard to wake up. For a little while, all Light Sleeper can do is hold them, caress them and mutter reassuring words until they calm them down.

Heavy Sleeper props themselves up on an office chair, one earbud in, a caffeinated drink in one hand, their mobile on silent mode in the other - anything to make sure they don't fall into a deep sleep completely while watching over a very ill Light Sleeper for the night.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

The Grand A-Z List of Whump 1/3

This list contains ~290 items listed A to H

As always, I heavily encourage people to research topics thoroughly when writing. Whump is generally a 'dead dove' sort of topic, however it is important to avoid stereotypes/misinformation. This lists intention is to not glorify/romanticise sensitive topics in any way.

This part one-of-three comprehensive lists of injuries, Illnesses and tropes - including those from the Whumptober 2023 trope vote!

All submissions are listed in italics, and those who wanted to be tagged will be included at the end. If you have any more submissions: please send them via DM/my ask box.

[I-Q] [R-Z] [NSFW List]

List below the cut:

#

"I don't need your help."

"I'm doing this to make you better"

"I'm fine, take care of them!"

“I’m Fine”

"Kill me instead"

"Let me in."

"Look at me."

"Should I know you?"

"Take me instead."

(No) Anaesthetic

A

A Good Ol' Sickfic

Abandoned

Abdominal Pain

Aching Wounds

Acne

Adrenaline Crash

Adrift (in space/at sea)

Agoraphobia

Airsickness

Alien abduction

Allergies

Alopecia

Ambulance Ride

Ambush

Amnesia/memory loss

Amputations

Anaemia

Anesthesia

Angina (Heart condition that causes pain)

Animal Attack/Bite

Ankle Sprain

Anthrax

Anxiety/Anxiety attack(s)

Aphasia

Appendicitis

Arrested

Arthritis

Asking for help

Asphyxiation

Assumed Dead

Asthma/Asthma Attack

Auctions

Autoimmune disease

Avalanches

B

Backache

Bad Caretakers

Bandaged Head

Banished

Barbed Wire

Bear trap

Beaten up by ex-friends

Beaten with blunt object (i.e, bat or pipe)

Beatings

Bedrest

Bedside Vigil/Hospital Vigil

Begging

Betrayed by close friend/team/family

Bites (Animal, Bug, Human….)

Biting

Black Eye

Blackmail

Bleeding Out

Bleeding Through

Bandages

Blindfolded

Blindness (this could be temporary or permanent)

Blisters

Blood Loss

Blood Poisoning

Bloodied Knuckles

Bloodstains/blood trail

Bloody handprints

Bloody nose

Blunt force trauma

Blurred vision

Body modification

Body Sharing

Body Switching

Bounty on their head

Brain Damage

Brainwashing

Breakdowns

Breathless

Bridal Carry

Broken Bones (Ribs, Arm, Leg)

Broken Nose

Broken Promises

Bronchitis

Bruises

Building Collapse

Bullet Removal

Bumpy roads jarring injuries

Buried Alive

Burning Building

Burns/Scalding

Busted kneecap

C

Cancer

Caning

Capgras syndrome/delusion (belief that someone close to/important to the person has been replaced by an imposter)

Capsulitis

Captivity

Captured

Car chases (and maybe a car crash)

Carbon monoxide poisoning

Cardiac Arrest

Caretaker has to “play nice” with whumper.

Caretaker has to hurt whumpee while undercover.

Caretaker sacrificing something dear to them to get something the whumpee needs.

Caretaker turned Whumpee

Caretaker-whumper who's a parental whumper. But their "love" is not real love. Or even right treatment.

Carsickness

Cataracts

Catatonia

Caught in a fire

Caught in an explosion

Cauterization

Cave In

Cavity

Celebrity whump (exploitation in the music/movie industries…)

Chaffing from ropes/handcuffs/shackles

Chained/Shackled

Checking for injuries

CHF - congestive heart failure

Chicken Pox

Chills

Chloroform

Choking

Chronic pain

Claustrophobia

Cleaning wounds alone

Cold/Flu,

Collapsed Lung

Collapsing (into someone’s arms is usually nice, bonus points for cradling their head as they lower the whumpee to the floor)

Collapsing after they win

Collapsing/Fainting/Passing Out

Collars

Coma

Comfort after a nightmare

Common cold

Completely betrayed by their own team

Complications

Concussion

Confusion

Constipation

Constricted Airways

COPD - Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease makes breathing increasingly more difficult.

Corporal Punishment

Corset too tight and won’t unbutton

Coughing

Coughing Up Blood

CPR

Cramps

Crikes (intubation through neck)

Crush injury

Crying

Cuddle pile

Curses

Cuts/Grazes

Cutting off hair (more of an emotional hurt)

Cyanide poisoning

D

Damaged Larynx/Vocal Cords

De-aging

Deathbed Confessions (don’t have to actually die and stay dead, just the threat of dying)

Defeat

Defenestration (throwing out a window)

Dehydration

Deja Vu

Delirium (bonus points for this being drug/ fever induced)

Deluded whumper/thinking they’re helping the whumpee

Dengue Fever

Denial

Depression

Dermatitis

Diabetes (type 1 and 2)

Diarrhea

Diseases ('mystery' diseases are the best kind)

Dislocations

Disorientation

Disowned by Family

Displaced hip

Dissociation

Distress call

Dizziness

Dragged Away

Dream sequence

Driving to the hospital with a whumpee slumped barely-conscious in the seat of the car

Drowning

Drunkenness

E

Ear Infection

Edema (swelling from build up of fluid)

EKG

Electrical Burns

Electrical shock

Electrocution

Emergency field surgery

Emergency Surgery

Emotional angst

Emotional manipulation

Endometriosis

Enemy to Caretaker

Energy Drain

Environmental whump

ER

Execution

Exes reunited with one wanting a relationship and the other just wanting friendship.

Exhaustion

Experimentation

Exposure

Extreme Weather

Eye injury

F

Facing Phobias

Failed Escape

Failure to thrive

Fainting

Fainting (but also fainting aftermath) / Fainting due to lack of sleep, food, or overworking fainting from exhaustion

Falling

Falling for Caretaker/Whumpee/Whumper

Falling Through Ice

Fatigue/Exhaustion

Fever

Fibromyalgia (Chronic Pain)

Field medicine

Fighting (while injured)

Financial difficulty faced + how whumper might take advantage of that + how caretaker handles everything (well/badly)

Finding your loved one dead without explanation but thinking they’re still alive.

Fireman's carry

Flare ups

Flashbacks

Flinching away

Flu

Food Poisoning

Forced to... (Break out, Choose, Hurt, Kneel, Scream, Watch)

Forehead kisses

Forgotten by team

Foul-tasting medicine

Found family

Found unconscious

Fracture (Arm, Hyoid bone etc)

Freezing / cold whump

Friendly Fire

Frostbite

G

Gagged/Muzzled

Gangrene infection

Gaslighting

Gas (noxious, poisonous etc)

Gastritis

Glass (shards, debris etc)

Grief

Gunshot Wound

H

Hair Pulling/Cutting/Matting/Stroking

Hallucinations

Hanahaki

Handcuffs

Handgag

Hard ground

Haunted

Hay Fever

Head injuries/concussion

Head trauma

Headache/Migraine

Heart Palpitations

Heartburn

Heat Exhaustion

Heatstroke

Heavy metal poisoning

Held at gunpoint/knifepoint/weapon point

Hematohidrosis (Sweating blood)

Hemophilia/Hematophilia (Blood unable to clot)

Haemothorax

Hernia

Hidden Illness/Injury/Scar/Medical Issues

Hiding

High Blood Pressure

High Fever (like dangerously high)

High Pain Tolerence

Hit by a car

Home Sickness

Hospital Codes

Hostage Situation

House burnt down

Huddling for Warmth

Human Shield

Human Weapon

Hunger

Hungover

Hunted for Sport

Hurt no comfort

Hyperalgesia,

Hypermobility

Hyperventilating

Hypo/Hyperthermia

Hypo/Hyperthyroidism

Hypoglycemia

Hypotension/ Hypertension

Hypoxia

TAG LIST: Thank you very much to the following people for submitting ideas! (I apologise if some tags did not work, I'm not sure why tumblrs not letting me tag you!)

@I-eat-worlds | @greygullhaven | @letsgowhump | @cyberwhumper @firapolemos05 | @originaldeerhottub | @whumpilicious | @drawing-dinos82 | @carenrose | @stellarinuscronicles | @gottheseasonalblues | @marvelflame2010 | @sowhumpful | @avamcu | @courtneygacha | @lordofthewhumps | @autismmydearwatson | @kuddelmuddell | @the-most-handsome-ginger | @whirls-and-swirls | @painsandconfusion