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Whumptober 20! Wow can you believe the month is flying by? - Ben reflects on his death at his funeral  (AO3:

Words: 344

Characters: Ben Hargreeves


When Ben died all light flickered from the eyes of The Umbrella Academy. He never wanted to cause them any pain, any grief or sadness, he just wanted it to go away. The horror, the nightmares, the disappointment. To them, it looked like an accident, a distraction that sent the horror awry, tearing into the helpless vessel that housed it.

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A resurrected Xue Yang, his memory wiped clean, is Xiao Xingchen’s prisoner.

Too bad he doesn’t know it yet.

 Inspired by @xuesongxiao‘s Halloween prompts

Whumptober 2020: waking up restrained, chronic pain, disorientation. A dash of enemy-to-caretaker and found family, but let’s get real, just a dash.

Read on Ao3


The young man opens his eyes to a blurred world.

A dark gray blur of sky is just visible through his burning eyes, rain pattering down on his face. Blurred orange light gleams a little way off, with dark blurs on either side—buildings? Trees? Rocks?—and a dark human-shaped blur sitting beside the orange light.

The young man rolls onto his side, trying to blink away the blurriness, but so much as blinking is like rubbing his eyeballs with dirt.

Where is he? More importantly, who is he?

He lies there in the—forest? Is he lying in a forest?—and struggles to remember something—anything.


He tries to move again, using his right arm to brace himself, and his whole body hurts but the pain in his right arm is agony, overwhelming him. The dark gray of the sky whirls around to merge with the fiery orange, and the dark blurs swallow him up.

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The path to isolation ends in a too-small cell.

This was written for Whumptober Day 8, Isolation, but it’s also got the Shackles prompt from Day 1. Contains mild self harm, mild effects of solitary confinement in a very small holding cell, and mentions of death. AU starting at the end of Volume 7. Title from a Billie Eilish song.



Weiss didn’t know how long she had been here. A day or more? It was an empty cell. There were shackles on her wrists and ankles. Both sets of shackles were connected to each other and the collar around her neck by heavy chains. All five of them had aura-inhibitors laced within the metal. It was a careful mix of Atlesian technology and a cocktail of dust blends. Weiss wouldn’t have been surprised if this particular dust was part of the assets seized by the Atlesian government when her father had been arrested. It would have been poetic.

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The Storm Crow || Kalyn Josephson || The Storm Crow #1 || 352 pages
Top 3 Genres: Fantasy / Young Adult / Romance

Synopsis: In the tropical kingdom of Rhodaire, magical, elemental Crows are part of every aspect of life…until the Illucian empire invades, destroying everything.

That terrible night has thrown Princess Anthia into a deep depression. Her sister Caliza is busy running the kingdom after their mother’s death, but all Thia can do is think of all she has lost.

But when Caliza is forced to agree to a marriage between Thia and the crown prince of Illucia, Thia is finally spurred into action. And after stumbling upon a hidden Crow egg in the rubble of a rookery, she and her sister devise a dangerous plan to hatch the egg in secret and get back what was taken from them.

Publication Date: July 2019. / Average Rating: 3.82. / Number of Ratings: 4170~.

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“Belki de henüz bu dünyanın neresine ait olduğunu bulamamışsındır Merih. Öyle değil mi? Her şey kendini tanımakla başlıyor. Korkularını, hayallerini bilmekle… En büyük korkun mesela,en büyük korkun ne senin?”

“Ben hiçbir şeyden korkmam.”

“Çocukken de mı hicbir şeyden korkmazdın?”

“Çocukken karanlıktan korkardım. ”

“Sonra ne oldu? Korkunu nasıl yendin?”

“Sonra büyüdüm ve ben de karanlık oldum. Korktuğum ne varsa ona dönüştüm. Korkunu ancak ona dönüşerek yenersin Eylül. Bunu sakın unutma.”

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Whumptober 2020

Day 4: Caged

“Having fun in there, sweetheart?”

Gwen said nothing. What was there to say that wasn’t said by the conditions of the cage, and the sadness that had resided in her eyes since she was taken?

“Oh come now, Lady Morgana, cheer up.” Hengist stepped closer to the bars of her cell. “There’s to be a feast tonight, and you are the guest of honor.”

“Where I come from, guests are treated with respect. Prisoners are thrown into cells,” Gwen scoffed.

“I’ll see a smile on that pretty face soon enough. I have some entertainment that I’m sure you’ll enjoy, my lady.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“We’ll see tonight, won’t we? I look forward to the pleasure of your company, Lady Morgana.”

And then he was gone. And then, Gwen was alone.


She felt the tears fill her eyes as she sat against the bars. She wondered how much longer she could keep this up. The moment she was found out, Hengist would kill her. That much was certain.

Would they come for her? Would Arthur come? Gwen doubted it. Morgana would want her safe, but Uther would never risk knights to save a servant. He hadn’t for Merlin, and he certainly wouldn’t for her.

But one way or another, until she was either free or dead, Gwen would fight. And hopefully, she would win.

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[ Ch. 1 | MDZS Fanfic | Novel-verse AU ]

Canon Divergent AU in which Wen RuoHan gets to live and Nie MingJue has to survive

Or: Nie Mingjue’s Very Bad No Good Fire Palace Adventure

Read on AO3

Rating: Mature

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Sick Fic, Angst (with a happy ending)

Ships: Lan XiChen/Nie MingJue, non-con Wen RuoHan/Nie MingJue

Notes: For @whumptober2020 Day 1. This chapter ended up becoming an adaption/rewrite of the original Sun Palace scene, now from Nie MingJue’s POV. The quotes were translated by ERS. This, however, is where the canon timeline ends and the AU begins.

Chapter One: Shackled

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Whumptober 2020: 01- Let’s Hang Out Sometime

There are three things you need to know:

1. It’s late and I’m tired, and this hasn’t been edited whatsoever. 

2. This is a weird AU where Hamilton is a redcoat. I think I can make this AU stretch through the first seven prompts or so. It’s almost October 3rd where I am, so clearly I am behind on this project.

3. I forgot what I was going to type here.

It’s been a few months since I’ve written something. Enjoy!


It’s over in seconds. So many hands grab at him. His coat, his satchel with his books, his notes are ripped away and tossed to the damp ground, stepped on in the scuffle. He shouts, curses, kicks, squirms, anything that might allow him to slip away just for a moment. He plants his feet, twists, and suddenly he’s released. He scrambles to steady himself and breaks into a run.

He makes it two steps before a knee slams into his gut.

Every breath of air is knocked from his lungs, and he’s on the ground again, vision filled with spots of black. There’s shouting overhead.

“Bastard little Redcoat.”

“Get some rope.”

He’s hauled to his feet before he can breathe and the next instant a coarse loop is slipped over his head, pulled taut around his neck. A few feet away one of the men sifts through his notes, then looks up at him. Pure hatred.

“It’s him. Hamilton’s boy. Hang him.”

“Won’t the general want to-“

“No. String him up. Now.”

Alexander shouts and struggles again as someone binds his wrists behind him. When he tries to buck away someone’s heavy boot crashes into his ribs. A few bones crack, he knows, but he can’t shout, or so much as gasp or even whimper. He’s left again without air.

“Nuh-“ He chokes out the protest, trying to dig his heels into the too soft ground. He loses a boot before they have him standing on something solid, one end of the rope thrown over a tree branch. “No!” Then the rope is pulled tight.

He chokes.

Most sounds blur into something long and garbled, impossible to distinguish one voice from the next. They’re going to do this. They’re going to hang him right here and now. Alexander’s been in this country less than a month.

Alexander has no regrets dying for his country, for his father, even though he’s certain he won’t be remembered for it. A dozen or so Continental soldiers have surrounded the area. Two in the back continue to look over his notes, his book.

Do they realize he arranged the ambush barely two weeks ago? The one they blame his father for?

He sticks his chin out, looks up at the sky. It’s bright and sunny despite the chill in the air.

Someone tries to sound official, like he’s been convicted of something. They know as well as he does that there’s been no trial. They’re still going to hang him.


Whatever they stood him on is abruptly kicked away, and the rope around his neck goes tight, all air is cut off. His neck doesn’t snap, which means he’ll be left to slowly suffocate. Alexander kicks wildly, instinctively jerking against the rope, but his feet don’t touch the ground, there’s nothing to brace himself against. His body spasms.

He’s going to die.

It’s fine…

Laughter echoes around him and then fades into a cacophony of swirled sound, and then hardly a whisper.

And then there’s a sharp sound. Something explodes over his head.

Alexander hits the ground and suddenly he can breathe. He gasps and sputters and writhes on the ground. While his ears ring, drowning out everything else, he spots the smoke hanging in the air above him. He rolls onto his side.

Suddenly standing among the other continentals is a tall man, his pistol still extended in Alexander’s direction.

He shot the rope.

No one moves, save one man who stiffly loosens the rope from his neck and tosses it to the ground.

Alexander, still coughing, looks back at the man. No one looks at him. No one challenges him.


This must be General Washington.

He approaches slowly, replacing the pistol in his holster. Someone steps forward to protest, but Washington holds up a hand and the words don’t come.

And then the man is standing over him, dark eyes studying him with what Alexander could surely say is disinterest, but there’s some spark there, too.

All he knows for sure is there’s no escape now.

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Whumptober 2020

Day 2: “Pick who dies”

“There were promises made in the darkness, in your sleep. You remember, don’t you, girl?”

The demon circled the girl. It made the air cold, and the room could only be described as smelling of death.

“The gods remember your promises, girl. And we demand that they are kept!”

A tear fell from Ti Moune’s eye. She remembered her promise all too well. “Take my life, not his!” she had begged the Papa Ge, and the demon had accepted. She believed it was right. She was doing it for Daniel. For Daniel, she thought bitterly.

“You gave him love. You gave him life. And how has he repayed you?”

Ti Moune’s head snapped up. Could this demon read her thoughts? Papa Ge laughed, the sound sending a chill through her body. Of course, she thought. The Demon of Death is still a god.

“He has betrayed the love you felt for him, and you are left to pay the price. You are left with me!”

The girl’s blood ran cold. This couldn’t be it. Not now. Not here.

“Come, child, accept me. It will be easier that way.”

Ti Moune chilled. She felt the air tighten, and invisible hands began to close around her throat, forcing the very life from her.

“Please, no!” she managed to choke out.

“Unless…” Ti Moune’s eyes begged wordlessly for another option. There was a time she would have given everything for her Daniel. But this feeling, this fear as she felt her breath left her, was nothing like she’d felt before, and she clung to life as Daniel once had, unable to let go. “Trade yours… for his.”

“What?” she whispered. Those invisible hands released her slowly.

“You saved him. You loved him. And he betrayed you. Why should you die for him now? Kill him, Ti Moune!”

The girl shook her head. Kill Daniel? The thought almost made her feel sick. He had hurt her, yes, but surely he did not deserve to die.

“Kill the love you feel for him. Prove that death is stronger than love and you can have your own life again.” That caught her attention. Mama and Tonton seemed so far away now, and Ti Moune found herself missing the life that she had once thought utterly dull and uneventful. “Your old life, just as if you had never loved at all…”

Kill him. Kill him! The air around her seemed to hiss down her ear, whispering the evil of the sly death demon.

The demon itself held out a dagger, which looked almost beautiful, glimmering in the moonlight. The god beckoned, and Ti Moune found herself following, all the way to Daniel’s bedside, where he slept peacefully.

She clutched nervously at the blade in her hand, and turned it over in her palm, hesitating. Was it really worth all of this? Must he die? The thought of his blood on her hands made her feel ill.

“Do it, girl!”

“Wait!” A new voice sounded in her ear. The voice of the Goddess of Love. The voice of Erzulie. “You don’t want to do this, Ti Moune.”

“Kill him! Prove that death is stronger than love!”

“Please! Does he deserve to die?”

“Remember what you lose if he lives, girl. Do you deserve to suffer for his betrayal?”

The demon lifted Ti Moune’s arm high, and Daniel turned in his sleep. She was positioned perfectly to plunge the blade into his heart.

“Now, girl!”

Ti Moune looked at the boy she had saved, the boy she had nursed back to health, the boy she had given everything for. He looks so peaceful, she thought.

The gods whispered and urged her, using the girl to fight their battle. She could take no more of it.

“No!” she cried. “I won’t do it! I won’t hurt him!”

Daniel awoke with a start. But he did not see the gods. Instead he saw only Ti Moune, his Ti Moune, with a knife high above her head, waiting to take his life.

“Ti Moune… Why…?” The knife dropped, clattering on the floor.

“Daniel, please, I-”

She didn’t finish. He had cried for help, and soon, she was thrown outside the gates, locked out the Hotel Beauxhomme forever.

But one thing was sure.

Daniel Beauxhomme would not die tonight.

(This one was actually really fun to write. Hope you enjoyed!)

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LET’S HANG OUT SOMETIME: waking up restrained.

Skulduggery wakes up in a bag.

He’s drowning and feeling absolutely nothing at the same time, he’s alive and only bones at the same time, and -

He thinks that this might be Hell, and that he might deserve it.

It’s the last complicated thought he’ll have for a long time, because as he sinks slowly into the river, the shock fades.

The shock fades, and it’s replaced with rage.

If he could, he’d taste blood right now, but there’s only emptiness instead, just emptiness and anger, the only solid thing to latch onto.

Serpine, he thinks, over and over again, tiny pieces of his fingers reattaching one by one. Serpine. Serpine. Serpine.

He’s going to kill him.

He has to kill him.

It’s the only thing he has left.

(They say the Skeleton Detective was brought back through necromancy alone. And Tenebrae deserves credit, it’s true, but -

You’ll learn better, if you talk to Pleasant.

You can see the fury in the empty space where his eyes should be.)

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“The prisoners will wake up!”

The first thing the Doctor registers is that the Judoon monotone doesn’t get less obnoxious with further exposition to with. Bummer, she was really hoping it would.

The second is the use of the plural. She has been alone in her cell during her entire stay, and a Judoon wouldn’t accidentally say prisoners if it was just her, which means they locked someone up with her.

(that leads her to a side thought she prefers not to visit at the moment)

The third thing is the soreness on her wrists.

“Oh, come one. I’ve been a model prisoner. Is this really necessary?”

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By: Pookiethefrickinbunn


Rating: Teen And Up

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Jefferson Davis

Fandom: Marvel, Spider-Man, Ironman, Avengers


Peter was going to die here. He had come to that conclusion a few hours ago when he was still lucid, the building settling around him while he dangled from a steel beam. The vibranium cuffs that were locked around his wrists wouldn’t budge. And it didn’t matter how much the young vigilante pulled, he still couldn’t free himself. He was stuck, hanging by his arms, in a construction site that was crumbling around him. His feet swung in the open air and Peter had no clue if he was a few inches from the ground, or a few yards. 
Whumptober 2020 Prompt #1 Hanging/Shackled

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title: you cannot turn left (chapter 1: illogical)
fandom: boku no hero academia
pairing: aizawa shouta/yamada hizashi
prompt: waking up restrained
rating: E
summary: “I’m going to die here,” both of them think, for different reasons.

a/n: this first chapter is inspired by a request. i’m sorry it’s not an one-shot but the idea got out of control o//o i hope you can still enjoy it!!

[you cannot turn left: illogical]

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