#febuwhump 2023

[breezy-cheezy]

Febuwhump day 1: Touch Starved

Boy can’t say something like “I don’t deserve to cry” and NOT expect a hug....

[beth--b]

I'm the touch that you crave

Steve didn't get shown much affection as a child.

There were no kisses goodnight from his mother, no high fives if he did well on his spelling tests. When he fell off his bike and grazed his knees there was nobody to hug him and dry his tears. Suffice to say he could go weeks, even months without being touched more than a casual brush of shoulders in the school hallways. 

He's not sure when it happened really, but by the time he was 15, Steve craved physical touch. Depending on how long it had been, he could be satisfied with a fist bump from Tommy, or even a playful shove from another kid on the basketball team. When he started dating it was even better. He could hold a girl's hand, or wrap an arm around her shoulder. As he got older hand holding progressed to kissing, make out sessions and eventually to sex.

Most of the time he forgot how he once wished someone would touch him, to the point where it wouldn't have mattered who or how, as long as they did.

read it here on ao3

Then he began to date Nancy Wheeler. At first things had been great, but after Barb disappeared, after the shit with Jonathan Byers and monsters from another fucking dimension, they began to touch less and less.

She'd pull away when he tried to hug her, turn her head when he'd lean in for a kiss. 

Then it was all bullshit.

Nancy went away, school ended and even casual touches from friends went away as well.

The kids helped though. 

High fives, fist bumps, giving Dustin a pat on the back when the kid did well at school. Little moments that most people took for granted, Steve savoured them all. 

At his shitty summer job at Scoops Ahoy, inadvertent touches happened fairly often. A brush of fingers as he would hand over an ice cream cone, touching a customer's palm when money was exchanged.

He felt both thrilled at being touched, even if it was nothing but incidental touches from strangers, and like the biggest fucking loser that he needed it so much, that nobody cared enough to touch him for anything else. 

He knew he was really fucked up when the first punch came from the Russian soldiers whose base was under the damn mall, and instead of thinking of the pain or fear, he was almost relieved that someone had touched him for the first time in a week. That changed very quickly when the hits kept coming.

When it was all said and done though he got Robin out of it and that nearly made the whole ordeal worth it.

Somehow, Robin seemed to sense that Steve needed to be touched. She'd hug him or grab his hands when she was excited, one time she jumped on his back and demanded a piggy back ride. With Rob around he knew there was always going to be someone to help him with his ridiculous need for human touch and affection.

Finally there was Eddie.

Eddie who constantly got in Steve's space, their fingers brushing together, Eddie's chest pressed against Steve's back as he leaned in to point at something over Steve's shoulder. 

Not that Steve was complaining, no he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wished the circumstances were better but between Robin and Eddie his need for touch was able to be pushed to the background with ease.

Life went on, he and Eddie grew closer, that longing for touch abated and he forgot.

Then the holidays came, and for the first time in months he was alone.

Eddie was off visiting some distant relations in Chicago.

Robin's family had decided to go to visit her grandparents in Indianapolis.

The Hopper/Byers clan had gone to California. Hopper apparently wanted a break from cold weather after his time spent in the Russian prison.

Dustin was finally allowed to visit Suzie, Steve worried the kid may never return.

Nancy and Mike were with their family in Hawkins, but without anyone else there to act as a buffer there was no way he would be spending time with them.

So he was alone.

After so long without worrying about touch, about the itch beneath his skin when he went days or weeks, even months, without any human contact, he wasn't prepared for just how quickly it would overtake him. He found himself wishing his parents would come back, if only for the brief contact that may come with them being home.

Lost in thought Steve lay back on his bed, scoffed at his own ridiculous train of thought.

"Not like they'd hug me anyway. Don't even want them too really," he muttered to himself. 

Thoughts spiralling, he almost didn't hear the knock at the door.

With a huff Steve sat back up and glanced at the clock.

"Who the hell is knocking at 11pm on Christmas night?"

He wanted to ignore it, wanted to close his eyes and sleep, anything to quell the itch.

The knocking came again, louder this time.

Steve ran a hand down his face and pushed himself to his feet. 

"Fine, I'm coming, I'm coming. Keep your damn shirt on."

He headed downstairs, switching lights on as he went. Finally he reached the door as the knocking started again.

"Jesus, I'm here-" Steve started, stopping as he took in the sight on his front door stop.

"Hey Stevie," Eddie greeted him with a grin. As though he wasn't supposed to be hours away with family right now.

"Eddie? What the hell man?" Steve grabbed Eddie by the arm and tugged him inside, out of the freezing night air.

Eddie let himself be pulled until they reached the couch. Then he shrugged out of his leather jacket and without any warning pulled Steve into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.

Steve knew he should say something, they'd been dancing around each other for months, growing more and more comfortable with one another. He wanted to ask questions. What on earth was Eddie doing there being the most pressing. Despite that, as Eddie held him all Steve could do was melt into the older boy's arms.

Without meaning to, or understanding why, Steve felt the hot prickle of tears start up behind his closed eyelids.  He tried to stifle a sob against the crook of Eddie's neck where his face was currently buried.

"You're alright now sweetheart, I'm here," Eddie whispered, cheek pressed to the top of Steve's head.

When he finally calmed, Steve managed to ask the most pressing question on his mind.

"How?"

Eddie pulled away enough that he could look Steve in the eye, while still keeping his hands on Steve's shoulders.

"Well, I told Wayne you were here all alone, and he agreed that after the family celebrated today that I should get back here to be with you. Told me nobody should be alone on Christmas. So here I am Stevie, if you'll have me?"

Steve nodded, and that was all the permission Eddie needed to pull Steve close again and press his lips gently to Steve's. 

It was the sweetest kiss Steve ever had.

As Eddie pulled away, Steve's brain finally caught up. Not wanting the moment to end Steve brought a hand up to the back of Eddie's head, fingers tangling in dark curls as he deepened the kiss. Eddie held on even tighter, moaning into Steve's mouth.

It was long minutes before they pulled away.

The itch beneath Steve's skin was gone for the first time in days.

He had a feeling Eddie would never let it get that bad again.

[serickswrites]

Higher Love

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Epilogue

Warnings: captivity, restraints, noncon drugging, yandere

Whumpee came to slowly. Everything was fuzzy. They tried to move, but found their arms couldn’t gain much traction. That their legs couldn’t move. Their breath quickened as panic rose in their belly. Their eyes flew open to see Whumper staring down at them. 

Whumper smiled deeply. “You’re awake, my love.”

“Notttt yyyyourssss,” Whumpee slurred, anger also rising. Whumpee remembered. Remembered Whumper stalking them for weeks. Remembered Whumper coming up from behind them suddenly, grabbing them, and a pinprick on their neck. Then they remembered nothing. 

“Oh, you’ll always be my love, my love.” Whumper said gently as they leaned in and kissed Whumpee’s forehead. 

Whumpee growled and tried to rise up, tried to head butt Whumper, but wasn’t able to. “Sssssstoppppp!” Whumpee’s words were getting stronger as the grip of the drugs in their system started to fade. 

“You were pretty happy when I brought you here, my love. Pretty happy a couple of hours ago. Let’s get you there again, my love. You need to enjoy yourself, my love,” Whumper purred as they pulled out a pouch. 

Whumpee tried to thrash away. “Hhhhigh. Nnnnot happppyyy.”

“Then let’s get you higher, love,” Whumper whispered as they leaned down to kiss Whumpee again, sliding the needle into Whumpee’s neck. 

[febuwhump]

FEBUWHUMP 2023 PROMPT REQUESTS ARE OPEN

welcome to the beginning of febuwhump! from december 9 - 16, this form will be open for all your prompt suggestions. these suggestions will be moved into a poll to be voted on the week after, and the top 28 prompts will make up the 2023 febuwhump prompt list! this is how you have your say in the next febuwhump - so get involved!

what to do:

click the link

fill out as many of the spaces as you’d like with prompts

only submit one prompt per space 

click submit

fill out the form as many times as you’d like

[pullakori]

Febuwhump 2023

Day 2. Flinching

TW: Mentions of child abuse

Arguing was nothing new for them. It happened quite often actually, as they liked to debate about pretty much any subject under the sun. Even when they both agreed on something, the other would play the devil's advocate just to spice things up.

Erik liked their conversations, loved the way it challenged his mind and how Charles never backed down, seemingly finding a counter argument for Erik's every point. And how he did same for Charles.

But, seeing as neither of them ever wanted to back down, their debates often became heated. Sometimes just evolving into a well meaning banter, sometimes into an argument that was filled with frustration, but never actual anger.

Until this evening, that was.

Erik was familiar with anger, an old friend who had helped him many times. He knew the feeling of it in his chest, like coals smoldering, ready to ignite at any moment with even the smallest spark of fire.

"And you think you know everything, Charles, don't you?" Erik snarled, staring at his friend, who was sitting on the armchair opposite of his. The chess board standing on the table between them, forgotten. Charles met his glare head on.

"In this, I feel I know quite a lot, yes, considering my own mutation." Frustration was clear in his voice, even though he clearly tried to keep it steady. "Human actions are not black and white, there are thousands of reasons for someone to do terrible things-" and there it was. The spark.

"AND THAT MAKES THEIR ACTIONS EXCUSABLE!?" Erik pushed himself up from the chair with so much force that he knocked the small table between them down with a loud bang and a clatter of chess pieces. He didn't care however, the rage and Charles' wide eyed expression fueling his outburst. "YOU THINK THEIR ACTIONS DON'T MATTER BECAUSE THEY THOUGHT THEY WERE RIGHTEOUS!?" Erik yelled, walking towards the library's doors, but turned back around, standing behind his chair, holding to its backrest with a white knuckled grip.

He took a breath in and out, waiting for Charles to say something to somehow defend his ill-judged view, so he could shoot it down. But the silense stretched on and eventually Erik looked up at his friend. Charles had gone completely still and instead of Erik, he was watching the fireplace, his expression completely blank.

The strange scene before him faltered the flames that had burst alive inside Erik, but he stoked the fire, not ready to stop yet.

"What? Got nothing to say?" He spoke up, not yelling anymore, but his irritation clear in his voise, his words sharp as knives.

Erik watched as Charles swallowed, his adam's apple moving under the skin of his throat, but the telepath stayed silent, his eyes glued to the flames in the fire place. Erik was not ready to quit yet, he could continue by himself for a while as it looked like his words had finally reached his friend

"Or did you finally realize that I'm right?" Erik rounded the chair, stepping closer to Charles, but he stopped abruptly when the younger man flinched quite violently from the sudden movement.

The reaction smothered Erik's anger, confusion taking its place. Not completely, but enough for him to ignore it for now.

"Charles?" He asked instead, not daring to move closer yet.

"I didn't mean it like that, my friend." Charles spoke softly with monotone voice, still not looking at Erik. "I shouldn't have said it at all, I'm sorry." It looked like he was becoming smaller right in front of Erik's own eyes.

What the hell was going on? Erik had never seen Charles act like this. Both of them had gone quiet during arguments before, taking other's words in and mulling them, wondering if the other was right after all. But those times made them feel reflective or even embarrassed, not this. Not fearful.

Charles was certainly not a coward. He had agreed to help CIA to take down a dangerous mutant. He had dived into a dark ocean to save a life of a stranger. He had run after Erik, straight into a heavily guarded home of a Soviet general. If anything, danger seemed to thrill Charles more than scare him.

Erik had seen Charles truly afraid only once before. When they had made it back to USA from Soviet Union and they had heard about Shaw's attack. Charles had been scared that Raven had been hurt, and calmed down only after he had seen his sister alive and well himself. But that fear had made him restless, not frozen. Not hyper aware of every movement of others' around him, not trying to make himself as small and harmless looking as possible.

This was all wrong.

Erik took a slow step towards his friend, faltering when he flinched again, even if just slightly this time, but continued despite it. Carefully, he moved close to Charles, who was completely frozen once again. Erik knelt down on the carpet, so he wasn't looming over the smaller man. He felt quite lost, but knew that he had to move forward.

"Charles," he kept his voice quiet and calm, there was no trace of his eaelier anger there anymore. "please look at me."

It took a few seconds, but eventually Charles took a shaky breath, bracing himself, and slowly turned his head, eventually looking up at Erik. He looked shaken, completely uncertain about everything. Erik hated it, this wasn't like Charles at all.

"What's wrong Charles?" He asked and Charles shook his head, avoiding eye contact again.

"I'm sorry, it's stupid. I didn't mean..." He faltered, looking at the ground.

Erik gave him a few moments to continue, but when nothing happened, he spoke up himself.

"Was it me?" His question made Charles look at him again, eyes wide with surprise.

"No!" He assured, until he became little uncertain once more. "Or yes, but not really, no." Erik didn't say anything, but tilted his head in confusion and it seemed that Charles understood his puzzlement. "It's this place." The telepath finally sighed and Erik frowned.

"The manor?" He wondered out loud. Sure, the place wasn't cozy at all, too big and cold for that. It seemed more like a museum to Erik than a home, but what about it could make Charles so shaky?

Unless it wasn't the place itself, but what had happened in it...

"My stepfather and stepbrother had bad tempers." Charles explained with reluctance, trying hard to keep his voice steady, but Erik could easily hear a tremor in it. "Shouting and furniture throwing were quite a regular occurance in this house. Often followed by beatings." The confession seemed to make the whole room quieter, the only sound being the flames in the fireplace eating the firewood.

Without any conscious thought Erik reached out to hold his friend's hand that was gripping the armrest, but when his finger brushed Charles, the telepath flinched away again.

"I'm sorry." Erik said, pulling his hand away, but Charles shook his head again.

"No, it's fine." He said and turned his hand, palm up. An invitation. So Erik reached out again to take hold of the smaller man's hand. Charled seemed to brace himself this time, and didn't flinch. "I thought that I had gotten rid of this, but it seems that I was mistaken." Charles tried to smile, but it didn't look right at all.

How many times had Charles suffered in the hands of his family? Erik could see it with his mind's eye, Charles, as a small child, cowering in front of two raging figurs that could have been giants compared to him.

Erik swore he would kill them. After his hunt for Shaw was over, he would find them and make them suffer.

"There is no need for that." Erik was taken aback by Charles answer, but then he remembered, that physical contact made it easier for the telepath to hear someone's thoughts. It didn't bother Erik. "Kurt, my stepfather, died long time ago. There was a fire in the house and he saved me and Cain, my stepbrother, but died from carbon monoxide poisoning himself." Charles explained, his voice slowly gaining strength.

"And your stepbrother?" Erik inquierred, trying to sound casual, but from the knowing look from Charles, he knew he had failed.

"Joined the army shortly after. I havent heard of him ever since." Charles answered nevertheless.

"So he might still be alive?"

"Erik, no." Charles chastened, but there was a upward tug to the corner of his lip.

"Why not?" Erik teasingly pushed, releaved to see that Charles was getting better already.

Despite his improving mood however, Charles spoke very seriously, looking Erik in the eyes again.

"Cain was abused much longer than me by his father. I can't hate him, even if I wanted to. He was a child too, betrayed by those who should have loved him." And like that, Erik understood.

"That's what you meant." He murmured and Charles nodded. "It still doesn't make it right." Erik insisted, but the anger did not return.

"No." Charles agreed. "But I still can't hate him, or wish ill will on him."

"You forgive too easily." Erik said and tugged a stray hair behind Charles' ear with his free hand.

"Maybe." Charles smiled and Erik mirrored it. They had made it through the srorm this time.

[triforce-of-mischief]

Starved for a Soft Touch

Febuwhump Day 1: Touch-starved

Rating: G

Whump count: what's on the package

Word count: 1300

Summary: Hyrule knows that touch is bad because touch brings nothing but pain.

AO3

Reblogs > Likes!

Hands and paws and claws, constantly touching Link, making sure he stayed in pain. There wasn’t a moment without a monster holding him in place so they could draw more blood. The hero was being used to ressurrect Ganon, and he would suffer for every torturously slow second.

Link struggled to break free of a moblin’s iron grip. “Let me go!” he growled.

“What’s wrong, little hero?” the beast said, a cruel grin stretching over its face.

“Get your paws off me!”

The moblin squeezed Link’s arm tighter and tighter. Its voice sounded almost Hylian as it spoke. “Are you okay?”

“Hyrule? What’s wrong? Hyrule, wake up!”

Somebody was touching his shoulder. That was bad. Touch was bad. Touch only brought pain. Touch could not be trusted. Whoever was touching him could not be trusted.

Hyrule scrambled to sit up, pulling a knife from under his pillow and igniting the blade with Fire. The orange glow illuminated Sky’s shocked face.

“Woah, hey, it’s just me,” Sky soothed, raising his hands in surrender.

Hyrule extinguished the spell and glared at the knight. “Why would you do that?” he hissed.

“Why would I do what, wake you up? It sounded like you were having a nightmare and I didn’t want to leave you in there.”

“I was. But it’s over now.” Hyrule lowered the knife, hoping that Sky didn’t notice how his hand was shaking.

Of course, Sky saw and reached out, arms wide and about to entrap the younger teen.

Hyrule shoved Sky away, then bolted into the woods. He didn’t go far, pressing himself against a tree just past the edge of camp. He tried to breathe through his panic and listened for sounds of pursuit.

He heard approaching footsteps a few minutes later and braced himself for an angry Sky. Would the knight simply scold him, or try to grab him and drag him back to camp?

To Hyrule’s surprise, it was Warriors who found him. The captain cautiously sat beside the younger hero, who watched him warily.

“Hey bud,” Warriors greeted quietly. “Sky said you had a nightmare and freaked out when he woke you up?”

Hyrule nodded. “It seemed like he was trying to trap me in his arms.”

“Typical Sky. Hug first, ask second,” Warriors huffed. “You needed some time to ground yourself first, yeah? And he messed it up when he tried to touch you before you were ready.”

Everything Warriors said had made sense, but Hyrule was confused by the last part. “Why would I ever be ‘ready’ for somebody else to touch me?”

“Most people find comfort from being close to people they trust,” Warriors explained.

Oh, right. The others had had the privilege of growing up in a world where they were allowed to trust, to be close, to feel safe. “I don’t… trust people,” Hyrule mumbled. “Every time I try, I get hurt. They hurt me.”

“You know that you can trust us, right? It may take some time, but I promise you can. And… you do realize that if we touch you, it would never be with the intent to hurt you?”

“But… why would you touch somebody, if not to inflict pain?”

Warriors sucked in a breath, his next words filled with far more sadness than Hyrule thought the situation warranted. “Hyrule… when’s the last time somebody touched you without hurting you?”

“Mm… never? What kind of question is that?”

Warriors muttered a curse and something that sounded suspiciously like “Hylia, why must you do this to him, too?” Then Hyrule saw him gather himself before he slowly asked, “Hyrule, do you trust me? I know we just met and you’ve had many reasons to be wary of everyone in your life. It’s fine if you don’t trust me at all yet, but… I hope you do. I want to try something, but only if you’ll allow me.”

Hyrule didn’t completely trust Warriors, just like he didn’t completely trust anyone. At the same time, he didn’t not trust Warriors. This was the first time somebody had appeared to understand how he felt, and Hyrule decided that he could give Warriors a chance. “I think I can try to trust you… enough.”

With a relieved smile, Warriors asked a question that caught Hyrule off guard. “May I touch you? I want to do something that should help you feel safer. It won’t hurt at all and I will stop if you tell me to.”

Hyrule still had no idea what Warriors was planning, but it would look stupid for him to turn back now. “O-okay,” he agreed, voice barely above a whisper.

Warriors patted the ground beside him. “Mind scooting closer? I can’t reach that far.”

Hyrule cautiously inched towards Warriors, who smiled at him encouragingly. Hyrule stopped a few times, keeping plenty of space in between them, but Warriors beckoned him over until he couldn’t move any closer without bumping into his side. Hyrule sat stiff and still, ready to run away again at the first sudden move.

“I’m going to put my arm around you. I’m not holding you in place,” Warriors told him, and waited for the traveler’s small nod of approval. Warriors telegraphed his movements as he reached around to rest his hand on Hyrule’s far arm.

Hyrule jumped at the contact, fighting the instinct to escape. Warriors had said that touch didn’t have to hurt. Hyrule had to trust Warriors, he had to. He was hyperaware of the captain’s gentle hand on Hyrule’s shoulder as he pulled Hyrule closer. Hyrule let himself be guided until he was leaning against the captain’s side. His heart pounded with fear, his mind screaming that it was a trap.

Have to trust him have to trust him have to trust him-

“It’s okay,” Warriors murmured. He began to move his hand up and down over Hyrule’s arm, the repetitive motion convincing Hyrule to finally relax.

Hyrule’s mind raced as he tried to adjust to a touch that… didn’t hurt. He couldn’t recall ever feeling something like this, but he was pretty sure that it could be described as soothing.

“This doesn’t hurt at all, right? This is fine?” Warriors quietly asked.

Hyrule opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. What little composure he had left crumbled. He let himself lean fully against Warriors, tucking his face into the captain’s shoulder to hide the rising tears. His breaths stuttered and hiccuped, doing a poor job of concealing his impending breakdown.

“I know this is a lot to take in at once,” Warriors said. Hyrule felt him raise his other hand to Hyrule’s hair, giving the traveler’s curls an experimental pat. Hyrule flinched, his imagination presenting the worst case scenario.

Warriors was going to grab a fistful of hair, yank Hyrule up to face him, and sneer, “Such a soft, vulnerable, pathetic excuse for a hero. Did you actually think that you deserved a kind touch? One without pain? You should know by now that no such thing is even possible.”

Hyrule braced himself against the inevitable pain.

Ever so gently, Warriors ran his fingers through Hyrule’s hair.

It didn’t hurt at all.

Warriors’ touch was nothing but affectionate, and it felt so nice.

Hyrule melted under the captain’s touch and snuggled even closer, an incredulous smile hidden as he pressed his face into Warriors’ tunic. He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, accompanied by scattered sobs, but it was a bittersweet sort of crying. It was cathartic and good, and Warriors was patient and comforting as ever.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Warriors whispered, holding Hyrule close and surrounding him with a wonderfully cozy warmth. “I’m not going to let anybody else hurt you. You’re safe now.”

Relaxed and content in his brother’s arms, Hyrule finally believed him.

[artistamateurieuse]

Nialuna's Febuwhump 2023 -✨RJC Edition✨

This is SO late but: You're craving whump but can't decide in which fandom you'd like to see RJC suffer? Don't worry, I've got you! Four weeks of making our boy bleed, cough and panic, delivered in nice little (or not so little) packages, from Ackley to Alfea, each day for the next 27 days! Pick whatever tickles your fancy, and enjoy whumping the hell out of this beautiful man with me!

[calamity-aims]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly & CC-2224 | Cody & CC-1010 | Fox & CC-6454 | Ponds & CT-7567 | Rex & CC-3636 | Wolffe Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, CC-2224 | Cody, CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-6454 | Ponds, CC-5052 | Bly Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Sheev Palpatine, Post-War, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Lives, Coruscant Guard Troopers Need Hugs (Star Wars), Febuwhump 2023, Angst, Misunderstandings, Injury, Implied/Referenced Abuse Series: Part 3 of Febuwhump 2023 Summary:

day 6: secrets revealed

“I still don’t know how you didn’t catch that he was a Sith, vod,” Bly says with a hearty slap on the back, almost sending Fox face-first into his neon-colored drink. Bafflingly, there’s a tiny flimsi umbrella perched jauntily on the rim.  For a brief, blissful moment, Fox considers stabbing Bly with it.

[smilesrobotlover]

Febuwhump day 28: “you’re safe now”

This is two days late I friggin hate myself man. Anyways I ended up rewriting the entire thing cuz the first draft was kinda friggin awful. I like this version soooo much better so yaaay. It’s not super good but whatever. Sorry to make y’all wait.

Also, WARNING: there’s a dead hand. I know that’s triggering for some people so beware.

The Creature at the Bottom of the Cave

The island that all the Links were sent to was an interesting place to say the least. It looked like any other island, with normal forests, lakes, and a nice beach, but there was something uncanny about the place that made everything feel wrong. Time noticed it as soon as he was pulled into the portal, thrusted into the world that, on the surface, looked perfectly normal. But when he noticed the lack of animals, that’s when he realized that the island was a twisted reality created by the one who brought them all here. It was not a world that they could live and survive in. The others had noticed the strange emptiness as well, and Time would find one of them looking in strange places, areas that weren’t yet “complete” or were unnatural. It gave him the creeps of course, and some of the weird things he himself would find would cause him to dissociate. He hated this place and just wanted to return to Lon Lon Ranch with his wife where it felt real. But he would always wake up every morning to find that he was still in this strange world with the others.

One of these strange occurrences happened in a cave. Time noticed his brother, Warriors, staring at the cave near where they set up camp. Time walked up to him and glanced at it, but it just looked like a normal cave to him.

“What is it?” Time asked Warriors, who was glaring ahead.

“I’m not sure. There’s something weird about that cave over there,” he mumbled, Time having to lean in to hear him.

Time frowned and looked at the cave again, Warrior’s ominous attitude starting to make him uncomfortable. There wouldn’t be any bears or animals in there, so it wasn’t a threat in that sense, but a monster could be camping out in there. Time walked over to the mouth of the cave and turned on his lantern, feeling Warriors close behind him. As soon as Time entered it, he noticed a hole right in the center. It was perfectly circular, big enough for Time to crawl through.

“Now what could’ve made this?” Time muttered to himself, and Warriors dropped to his knees, looking into the dark hole.

“You think it homes a monster?” Warriors asked him, but Time shrugged. It could just be a weird glitch in this world, a hole with no reason. But if it was a monster…

“We should check it out,” Time offered, “If it is a monster, then we can’t let it stay here. I don’t think the boys have the strength to keep traveling where it is safe.”

Warriors nodded and grabbed a small rock, dropping it into the hole. They both listened and after 30 seconds, they heard it land. Warriors pursed his lips and looked up at Time nervously.

“So, I suppose we should head down there?”

Time gave him a sympathetic look. “You don’t have to come Warriors, I know how much you hate tight spaces.”

“No. I’m not letting you go alone, little leaf.”

“You can get someone else to come with me, like Twi.”

“As if Twi could fit in there. Just go, I’ll be right behind you.”

Time smiled slightly and began to crawl into the mysterious hole in the ground. The climb down wasn’t too terrible, it was just a tight fit, but the more he climbed down, the more nervous he got. This whole thing was reminding him too much of the well in Kakariko village. He never knew what to expect in places tucked away like this. When his feet finally touched the ground, he brought up his lantern again and noticed that they were in a small, but big enough space. Warriors let out a sigh of relief when he reached the bottom, stretching out his arms.

“Hm, well there’s nothing here,” he noted, observing the walls around him.

“Darn, I was hoping we’d find some treasure,” Time said to lighten the mood, and Warriors shot him a smirk.

“I don’t think this world is kind enough to give us treasure.”

“You never know.”

Time watched Warriors look around and he sighed, relieved. This hole was probably just a random mistake in the island, perhaps incomplete or unknown by the creator. So they were safe to camp here without the fear of being ambushed by a moblin or something.

“Hey, Time, look at this.”

Time squinted at where Warriors was kneeling. He couldn’t see anything from where he was standing so he walked over and saw that there was a crawlspace in the wall. It was large, large enough for a bokoblin to squeeze through. He sighed, this time annoyed. Guess they weren’t safe just yet.

“I’ll crawl through and tell you what I find,” Time said, getting on his knees and beginning to move through the hole.

“Hey, wait–” Warriors stopped him, “I’m not letting you crawl in there by yourself.”

“If there’s treasure in there, I wanna keep it for myself,” Time teased, smiling at him, but Warriors didn’t smile back. “Ok fine, I’ll share some of it with you, now will you let me go?”

Warriors rolled his eyes. “You know, you’re older than me now, but it feels like you haven’t grown up at all.”

Time grinned and began to crawl through the hole, the only guide being his lantern. It didn’t take long for him to reach the end, and he found himself in another room. It was pitch black, not even his lantern showed much of what the cave had to offer. He felt his heart beating harshly against his chest, and the only sound he heard was his own breathing. He didn’t move, afraid that if he did, something would pop out and attack him. He tied his lantern to his belt and brought out his ocarina. He didn’t know if there were redeads in here, but he wasn’t gonna explore this place with his dim light. He brought the ocarina to his lips and softly played the sun song, staring out into the darkness. When the cave brightened, Time felt his heart drop when he saw a thin, bony hand sitting still above the ground.

“Time?”

He barely heard Warriors call after him over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears. Fear had such a strong grip on him that he couldn’t find himself to move, afraid that if he did, something would grab him.

“Time, what's over there?”

Time swallowed hard and shifted closer to the wall.

“D-dea–dead han–,” was all he could muster out before he heard the ground rip from beneath him, and a hand reached for his throat. Time let out a strangled cry as he was held in place, the sickening sound of bones popping as the dead hand crawled above the ground being the only thing he could hear. From the corner of his eye, he saw the thing that has plagued his nightmares ever since he was a kid. The dead hand, its long neck stretched towards the ceiling as it squirmed through the ground, moving closer and closer to him. Time tried to throw himself out of the monster’s grip, but he couldn’t escape from it. The panic overwhelmed him as it got close enough for it to take a fatal bite out of him. He felt his knees weaken as he came face to face with it. Its sunken eyes, its long face, its human teeth was all that Time could see as it unhinged its jaw open, but before it could close down on him, something hit it harshly, causing it to retreat into the ground, letting go of Time.

He fell to the ground, gasping for breath as he felt Warriors grab onto him.

“Time! Come on get up!”

Time rubbed his bruised neck and watched as the dead hand buried itself into the ground while several hands started to claw their way out of it. He glared ahead and buried his fear within him. He’s fought this thing twice, he wasn’t going to let it get the best of him now. He stood up and grabbed Warrior’s shoulder.

“Don’t let the hands grab you, and aim for its head,” was all he said before running to the center of the room. He dodged a hand that swiped at him and he cut it down, aiming for the other. He was almost done cutting down all the hands in the room, until he heard one shoot out of the ground. He yelped as it grabbed onto his ankle, and with him held in one place, several more of the hands popped out of the ground, pinning him against the wall. They grabbed his legs, his arms, his torso, his neck, his hair, his face. He gritted his teeth as he heard the dead hand emerge from the ground again, and he squeezed his eye shut, trying to break free from the hands, but to no avail. He heard Warriors give a shout and he opened his eye to see Warriors in the same predicament. Hands were all over him, pinning his arms to his sides, wrapped around his neck, and pulling his hair so he was facing the ceiling. He was trying to break free as the dead hand moved its way over to him, and Time’s heart sank when he saw the raw fear in his brother’s eyes.

He couldn’t watch his brother die, not like this. Not when he couldn’t do anything to save him. Time gritted his teeth, and the desire to protect Warriors overwhelmed him. Though Warriors was younger than him now, he was still his big brother. He always was.

Time screamed as he pushed himself against the wall, doing a spin attack to slice the hands on him. He landed on the ground and sprinted towards the dead hand and Warriors, ripping some hands out of the ground as he ran. Just before the dead hand could take a bite out of Warriors, Time jumped in front and sliced its jaw. It let out a cry and went to retreat into the ground but Time wouldn’t let it run away again. He lunged towards the monster and stabbed it straight through its skull. The dead hand sputtered out blood and dropped to the ground, and Time stabbed it again, just to make sure it was dead. He pulled his sword out of it and stabbed it again, and again, and again. He was on his knees, stabbing the thing over and over again until its face no longer looked like a face. He didn’t stop until he felt something touch his shoulder, causing him to flinch and swinging his sword behind him. He assumed it was the hands grabbing at him, but he heard the sound of metal colliding with itself. He came back to reality when he saw Warriors holding up his sword against his own. Warriors had a horrified expression on his face, his hair was a mess, and some of his clothes looked to be ripped up. Time pulled back and stared up at Warriors, wanting to immediately apologize, wanting to ask if he was ok, but no sound came out of his mouth. Warriors gently kneeled at his side and reached for his shoulder again.

“Time… it’s ok… we’re safe now,” he whispered. Time blinked his eye hard and felt some tears spill out. Has he been crying this whole time?

Warriors rubbed his back gently and Time let out a shaky sigh.

“We’re safe now,” Warriors repeated, his voice quivering, “we should head back. Don’t want to worry the others, yeah?”

Time nodded and Warriors stood up, offering him his hand. He stared at Warrior’s outstretched hand for a long moment, not comprehending that he should grab it. Warriors reached down and grabbed his arm instead, tugging him slightly, which caused Time to finally stand up. He gave one last look at the barely recognizable dead hand, before letting Warriors nudge him back to the crawlspace.

[minty-mumbles]

Febuwhump Day 3: Muzzled

Read the full collection of my febuwhump ficlets on AO3 here

Part Two

~~~

“Oh gods, they put a fuckin’ muzzle on him.” Wind’s horrified whisper sounded like a shout in the silent Yiga clan hideout. Wild could only stare at them from where he was tied up within an inch of his life- almost literally, given the loop of sturdy rope that wrapped around his throat. 

He couldn't be bothered to put any heat into his stare, and didn’t bother trying to move either. That would be a fruitless endeavor until he was untied. He gave a pointed hum, but could give no other vocalization. The muzzle kept his mouth shut tight, causing his teeth to grind uncomfortably against one another, and making it hard to move his lips.

“Right,” Twilight said, stepping forward. He looked almost murderous as he glared at the muzzle. Wild would have flinched at such a look being sent in his direction if his nerves weren't already completely shot. After the last few days he had, he didn’t think that he could be startled by anything. 

When Twilight spoke again, there was a hint of a growl in his voice, and Wild suddenly remembered Twilight‘s wolf form. Out of all of the heroes, Twilight was the one most likely to be most familiar with muzzles. Wild didn’t know if Twilight had even been made to wear a muzzle in his wolf form, but the way he was glaring at the one on Wild’s face, he had a bad feeling the rancher had.

No one bothered to answer Twilight when he asked, “I’m assuming no one found a suspicious-looking key just laying around and happened to pick it up?”

The key that kept Wild locked in this damned muzzle had probably been taken with whichever Yiga had it when the heroes had invaded the hideout. The Yiga, when faced with the might of eighth pissed-off heroes of legend, had fled before them. None of the heroes even looked ruffled up, so Wild doubted any of the Yiga had stayed to fight them.

The Yiga were cowards, Wild thought viciously. They didn’t even try to finish what they had started. They’d just ran in the face of danger. Like cowards.

After predictably receiving no response from the other heroes, Twilight forwent the lock entirely. Wild felt a spark of nervousness as Twilight gripped the muzzle on either side of the hinge, and pried it apart. Thankfully, Twilight didn’t put all his strength into it. If he had, the muzzle breaking probably would have snapped and hurt Wild. 

When the muzzle was finally off his face, Wild let out a gust of breath. He’d been able to breathe with the muzzle on of course, or he’d be long dead. Despite that, it was somehow easier to breathe now that his jaw wasn’t bound shut.

Twilight flung the offending piece of metal, now warped almost beyond recognition, away from Wild. A compassionate hand cupped Wild’s cheek for a split second, before Twilight drew away. He pulled a small knife out of his belt, and started on the ropes. 

It took Twilight less than two minutes to completely free Wild, and as he slowly cut through the ropes, Sky moved forward. He kneeled next to where Wild had been carelessly thrown in the Yiga’s haste to get away. Wild could tell that Sky was asking questions, trying to figure out what happened to Wild, but he couldn’t make himself focus enough to figure out what he was saying. 

Sky’s voice was gentle and reassuring, but Wild didn't even try to respond. Everything around him felt unfocused and hazy, and Sky’s soothing voice wasn’t helping as it lulled him further into the haze. 

Normally, Wild would fight tooth and nail to remain aware, but even here in the Yiga hideout, he feels safe with his brothers around him. He hadn’t let himself sleep, hadn’t wanted to let himself be that vulnerable, in the Yiga’s presence. He didn’t know exactly how long he’d been here, but it had been more than a day, if not two, so he’d spent longer than he should have awake. 

He was exhausted, and with Sky’s gentle worried voice in the background and more of the ropes falling away from him every second, Wild couldn't bring himself to fight the exhaustion.

He let himself slip into unconsciousness, knowing he was safe now.

[possibility221]

Elementary, Febuwhump 2023, Day 14

prompt:  captivity

[breezy-cheezy]

Febuwhump Day 16: Semi-conscious

Listen I know it’s May now. I still wanna finish some of these ideas dangit. Rook blows up an experiment again and Trey attempts to pick up the pieces as a knight does. Rook continues to wax poetic about science as he goes in an out of consciousness, to Trey’s dismay (thanks to my friend Canvas this is the nonsense I think about hhsdhfjksd)

Please don’t tag reblogs of this with ship tags, thanks! This was drawn with platonic intent! ✨

[beth--b]

screaming on the inside

When Steve was five years old he fell off his bike and his hands and knees were grazed and bleeding. He had scared himself when he'd come off, giving a startled yelp, and blood was running down his legs. His palms were stinging and he just wanted someone to hug him and tell him it would be alright. He knew some parents did that. He'd seen it happen before when kids fell over on their way to or from school or on the playground.

Tears burned his eyes as he tried to hold them back, but despite his best efforts a few fat tears escaped and rolled down his red cheeks. 

When he came into the house limping and bleeding his mother had sighed and told him to go clean himself up.

When his father saw his still wet lashes and red blotchy face he had sneered and told Steve that crying was for babies and he'd better cut it out and grow up. Men don't cry. Harrington men did not show weakness. Crying was for women and babies.

Steve had dried his eyes and apologised to his parents for bleeding and crying respectively.

As he sat in the bathroom cleaning out his grazes with antiseptic and applying bandaids to his knees he promised himself he'd be better. He'd make his mom and dad happy. He would be a good boy and he wouldn't cry.

read it on ao3 here

X

At twelve years old Steve had fallen during a basketball game after another player had run into him. He knew something was really wrong, he'd felt and heard a crack as he'd landed, left arm twisted beneath his body.

His father only came to games he deemed as important. Usually the first and last games of the season.

This was the final and Steve's father was watching from the stands. By now Steve knew that if he let on he was hurt that things would not end well for him so he picked himself back up and took the penalty shot. 

Agony shot through his arm, but somehow he made the shot, he honestly didn't know how.

He managed to get through the last few minutes of the game before heading to the bench, cradling his injured arm against his chest. He knew better than to cry, he truly did, but now that he wasn't focused on finishing the game the pain was getting to him. He squeezed his eyes closed trying to stop the tears from escaping.

As the other kids on his team cheered at their win, Steve clutched at his arm and hoped this was an injury that would heal on its own.

Despite Steve's efforts the coach, one of the other boys' parents, noticed something was wrong and came to check. He gently pried Steve's right hand away and looked at the injured arm which had begun to swell.

"Hey buddy that looks pretty painful. Are your folks here? I think you might need a trip to the hospital," the coach said, looking around. When he saw Steve's dad he waved him over, explaining that Steve was hurt and should go get checked out.

Steve made sure to dry his eyes before his father approached him, not allowing any sounds of pain to escape his tightly sealed lips.

Somehow Steve passed the test.

His father simply nodded at him before leading Steve to the car. He was taken to the hospital, given a few quarters for the payphone,  and his family's insurance information and told to call when he was finished.

Steve waited until his father was gone before speaking to one of the nurses in the emergency room. She gave him an ice pack and told him to wait in one of the chairs until the doctor called him. 

Only when he was sure nobody was paying attention did Steve let the tears fall, silent as they burned hotly down his cheeks. 

X

Steve is eighteen years old when he is beaten by Russian soldiers in a secret base beneath the mall he works at. He is well versed in not letting on how much pain he is in. For perhaps the first time in his life he is almost grateful for all the 'lessons' his father taught him. 

Between concern for the kids and Robin, and the many reminders throughout his life about not showing his weaknesses Steve keeps the attention on him.

He doesn't break.

He doesn't cry.

He does eventually pass out.

Then there's the drugs that are given to him and Robin and he's too busy laughing to cry

He maybe lets a few tears slip while he's puking his guts out, but if he did nobody would know.

Hours later when he's home in bed, house empty, he does let a few tears slip silently down his cheeks. He cries for only as long as he can't stop himself, trying to regain control again within moments of letting it slip.

Even if there had been anyone else in the house they never would have known. He had long learnt to stay silent if he could no longer contain his emotions.

x

When Steve is nineteen he goes to the Upside Down. He is choked, bitten and dragged across jagged rocks but he doesn't cry. There's no time.

After they get back to their version of Hawkins, there is too much to do to break down, even if he had wanted to. 

So he kept everything bottled up, just as he'd been oh so graciously taught.

Then they had battled Vecna. 

Max had nearly died.

Eddie had died, at least for a minute or two.

He sat vigil at both of their bedsides, switching rooms every few hours until Max had woken up on day two.

Then he spent his time in Eddie's room, the Party was keeping Max company, but Steve didn't want Eddie to wake up alone.

So he waited.

Finally after three days the newest member of their little group woke up.

Steve managed to keep it together until everyone had visited, until Eddie had spoken with the doctor and been filled in on his injuries and how he was healing.

It wasn't until later that evening, when he was sure Eddie was asleep, that Steve broke.

One moment he was sitting in a chair beside Eddie's bed, watching the older boy breathe and just being grateful that they had all made it out alive, the next he was crying, silent sobs making his whole body shake.

Eddie chose that moment to blink his eyes open, he looked at Steve breaking down without a sound and he knew Steve needed someone to take care of him too.

"Steve," Eddie's voice cut through the silence and Steve tried to wipe away his tears roughly, failing miserably as more fell to replace them even as he scrubbed at his face.

"Stevie come here, please," Eddie called once more.

Reluctantly Steve stood up and moved over towards the bed, finally sitting on the edge of the mattress when Eddie motioned for him to sit.

"Sorry if I woke you," Steve mumbled, sounding shattered both from crying and exhaustion.

"You didn't. You do look like you could use a hug though," Eddie shifted on the pillows and opened his arms, mindful of the many bites littering his body.

Steve was ready to protest, but something in Eddie's gaze made it clear that this was happening. Not wanting to aggravate either of their wounds he allowed Eddie to wrap his arms around him as he carefully returned the embrace.

"It's ok if you need to cry Steve. You've been doing so well taking care of everyone. If you need to let it out I'm here for you."

Such simple words, but as Eddie spoke Steve felt the last pieces of himself shatter. 

When Steve was nineteen he is comforted for the first time as he cries.

He's not sure how long he sobs into the crook of Eddie's neck but the metalhead never stops whispering soothing nonsense into his ear. Eddie never once complains or pulls away. He simply holds Steve and Steve lets himself be held.

Eventually Steve's tears slow from great heaving sobs to muffled sniffles. Eddie keeps holding him as long as he needs though, not pulling away until Steve is ready, hand gently rubbing his his shaking back.

Eddie shuffles over as much as his injured body is able and Steve settles into the space beside him, exhausted enough to not dwell on any of the events of the night too much.

Tomorrow he may need to reconsider just what he feels for Eddie, but for tonight he will just accept the comfort as it's being given and allow himself to rest.

[serickswrites]

Two for Flinching

Warnings: captivity, restraints, gags/muzzle, knives, forced to watch, torture

Team Leader snarled and strained against the chains that kept them bound to the chair. I’m going to rip you apart, Whumper. With my bare hands. 

Whumper laughed at Team Leader’s impotence. “You can’t get me, so why fight?” Whumper circled Smallest Teammate, running their hands through Smallest Teammate’s hair. 

Smallest Teammate squeaked as they flinched back from Whumper’s touch. But Whumper fisted their hair and kept them still. 

“LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Team Leader roared. 

“Why in the ever loving fuck would I do that? They are so pretty,” Whumper said as they caressed Smallest Teammate’s hair once more. 

“STOP IT! STOP IT!” Team Leader yelled as they watched the tears roll down Smallest Teammate’s face. 

Suddenly Whumper stalked over to Team Leader, their face inches from Team Leader’s. “Stop. Ruining. My. Fun.”

Team Leader spat in Whumper’s face. “Fuck you.”

Whumper glared down at Team Leader as they wiped the spit off their face. “You’re going to regret that.” They nodded at Accomplice. 

Accomplice quickly crossed the room and pressed a blade to Smallest Teammate’s throat. Smallest Teammate stilled, their eyes wide with terror. 

“Don’t hurt them! Please! Don’t.” Team Leader begged instantly regretting their display. Please don’t hurt them. Hurt me. Not them.

“I need you to be still. And quiet.” Whumper growled. “And stop ruining my fun.”

Team Leader nodded. “I will be quiet. And still. Just hurt me. Please. Leave them alone.” 

“Oh I am going to hurt you, Team Leader. Just not yet.” Whumper lifted a muzzle from the table of instruments nearby. “But I’m going to make sure I don’t hear your fucking voice any time soon.”

Team Leader’s heart was in their throat. They would not let Whumper muzzle them. They couldn’t. They started to struggle again, but froze as Accomplice pressed the blade once more to Smallest Teammate’s throat. 

Whumper smiled. “Very good. Maybe you aren’t so stupid after all.”

Before Team Leader could respond, Whumper was wrestling the muzzle onto their head. It was tight and prevented Team Leader from making any sound. They tried not to cry as they realized they wouldn’t even be able to offer comforting words to Smallest Teammate. 

And that this was all their fault. 

“Perfect,” Whumper cooed. “This will be fun.” And they waltzed back over to Smallest Teammate, a twinkle in their eye and a pep in their step. “Don’t worry,” Whumper said as they looked over their shoulder, “it’ll be your turn soon.”

[socialc1imb]

Legend didn’t enjoy being touched. It was common knowledge amongst the rest of the group, and Legend really did appreciate the group’s effort to abide by that unspoken rule and give him the space he needed, especially since so many of the group did enjoy physical affection.

Well… maybe Legend was having second thoughts.

Febuwhump 2023

Day 1 - Touchstarved

(Disclaimer: is less whump and more of an excuse to give Legend many hugs)

[pullakori]

Febuwhump 2023

Day 21. Shackled

The situation made Charles more embarrassed than scared. The group that had surprised him and captured him had consisted of mere teenagers. At least they looked that young. Charles should not have been so easy to take down, but he blamed the long days of work that had him exhausted for that.

When he had woken up again, he had found himself in a cold room, with shackles on his wrists that connected him to the concrete floor with a short chain. His head was hurting and the pain flared when he tried to reach out with his telepathy. He sighed and stayed down with his eyes closed, hoping that the ache would lessen soon.

His attempt to rest was interrupted soon by a furious roar.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" He recognised the voice, even though it was muffled by the door and soon enough, the said door was slammed open and Charles could see the silhouette of Erik standing there.

The metalbender swiftly moved inside the room and knelt beside Charles, freeing his hands from the cuffs before pulling the smaller man on to his lap.

"I'm so sorry Charles." Erik murmured as he gently held Charles wrists, examining the damage. The shackles had scraped his skin there, but not so badly that there would have been blood.

"I'm alright, my ego is more bruised than my body." Charles comforted the other man, smiling tiredly up at him.

There was a shuffling sound at the door and an uncertain, young voice called out.

"But, Magneto, he is our enemy-" The words were cut short when Erik turned to look at the speaker with, what Charles could imagine, was very murderous look.

"If you know what's best for you, you'll stay out of my sight and stop assuming what I want for you to do." Erik spoke with cold, intimidating voice and Charles could hear running steps getting further away. Well, it was good to see that Erik still had everything under control with his group.

"Do they often get in trouble?" Charles asked and Erik sighed, shaking his head.

"Too often." He answered, but under the annoyance there was fondness, and turned to look at Charles. "Let's get you somewhere more comfortable." He suggested and Charles wrapped his arms around Erik's neck, letting himself be lifted up from the floor.

"Did they bring my wheelchair too? Because I would like to have it back." Charles inquired as Erik walked out of the room to the well lit corridor.

"I'll make Azazel ask about that." Erik assured him and made it clear to the telepath, that he was not going to leave his side any time soon.

And right now, Charles thought and rested his head against Erik's shoulder, he didn't mind that at all.