#febuwhump day fourteen

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: Day Fourteen

Prompt: blood-stained tiles (febuwhump prompts)

TW: blood, bleeding, knife wound, gunshot wound, fingers in gunshot wound, knife mentioned, gun violence,

*~*~*~*~*

Whumper knew there was someone in his house when he reached his street. He frowned, hand going to the gun concealed under his jacket as he walked down the garden path. There were no signs of obvious entry, but Whumper knew. He could feel the slightly laboured breaths from inside. His frown deepened when he realised that he knew who those breaths belonged to. He took his hand off his gun and went for his keys instead.

He unlocked his door and stepped inside, dropping his bag by the door. He continued into the house, leaving the lights off. His intruder knew he was here, knew exactly that Whumper knew they were there. He left the lights off for more of a dramatic effect.

“I would advise against breaking into the house of someone who can detect you from streets away,” he said, turning to the intruder who sat with their back against Whumper’s oven. That wasn’t what drew his attention though. It was the amount of blood that was on his beautifully charcoal tiled floor. Whumper pulled out a chair and sat down at his table, staring at Whumpee.

“Do you know what’s really inefficient about you?” Whumper asked, reclining back against the chair while Whumpee fumbled in their pockets for something. Their hands came out, stained with the dark red blood, stark against Whumpee’s pallid face. Whumper noticed the white knuckled grip tight on a box of Marlboro as Whumpee pulled one out and dangled it loosely between their lips.

Whumpee kept Whumper’s gaze the entire time with their usual stare that was a melting pot of all Whumpee’s emotions; bored, superior, empty. Whumpee grabbed the lighter from the box, a shitty corner shop one with a skull on the side. The flame gave Whumpee’s face a little life, a little colour. It made their face a little more human, made the contours and the shadows darker but highlighted skin pulled over bone and muscle.

Whumpee didn’t reply as they cupped the lighter, more out of habit to shield it than any real threat of it extinguishing. Maybe to shield it from Whumpee’s own cold stare Whumper mused and laughed a little to himself at the thought.

Whumpee dropped the lighter into the box, then dropped the box onto the blood-stained tile they were currently bleeding all over making the charcoal even darker Or, more accurately, was bleeding all over. Whumper suspected their wounds had healed by now.

“Hey. Did you hear my question?”

“Yeah,” Whumpee replied. They let the smoke cloud their gaze and for a brief moment of reprieve Whumper didn’t have to stare into those soulless, dead eyes. “I heard ya.”

“You musing on the answer? Or are you thinking of answering in the next year?”

Whumpee scoffed. “You’re so needy, Whumper.”

“Yes,” Whumper replied deadpan. “I’m the one bleeding all over your beautiful kitchen right now.”

Whumpee didn’t reply. They just lifted their shirt as if only now remembering that they were injured at all. The wound wasn’t completely closed just yet, in fact… it looked as if it was still bleeding, but it would be another couple minute at least until Whumpee would heal. Whumper frowned at it, Whumpee healed fast – something like warning bells sounded in the back of Whumper’s mind but no… there was no way.

“Relax. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“The smell of your stale cigarette smoke, however, won’t be,” said Whumper with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Whumpee’s left index finger twitched. An emotional outburst on Whumpee’s account.

“I’ll clean up after myself,” said Whumpee, taking a long, slow drag of the cigarette. The house was quiet enough that Whumper could hear the cinders sizzle at the end of the cigarette like a dozen little sighs. An extension of Whumpee’s mood.

“Oh please,” Whumper scoffed, getting up from his chair and stalking over to the light switch and flicking on the light. “You couldn’t clean up after yourself if there was a gun to your leg.”

“Head.”

Whumper blinked. “What?”

Whumpee let smoke out through their nose. “The expression is a gun to your head.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Whumpee. Did I stutter?” Before Whumpee could answer the question, Whumper brandished his gun with a flourish and shot Whumpee through the thigh. Whumpee let out a strangled cry, bending over their leg with a string of curses as Whumper crouched so he was eye level with Whumpee. He placed the muzzle under Whumpee’s chin and tilted their head so he could look into Whumpee’s dead eyes. They glinted like sepulchre in the moonlight, lifeless and temporarily in pain. “To your head, was it?”

“I’m not here to fight.”

“No, you’re just here to bloody my clean floors and irritate me.”

“Whumper, listen—”

Whumper’s hand moved in a flash and a second later a bullet went through Whumpee’s shoulder. Whumpee’s ears rang like a bomb going off and distantly they were aware that they were screaming, their body curling around the gun on reflex. Whumpee’s hand shot up to grab onto Whumper for support. Letting out a long growling groan through gritted teeth, seething as they sucked in a couple of breaths.

For a while they stayed like that, like statues carved out of stone. Whumpee under Whumper, white knuckled grip on his arm, head against his forearm to take deep steadying breaths and breath through the pain.

After a couple minutes the ringing lessened. Whumper ran a hand through Whumpee’s hair and tilted Whumpee’s head back to look Whumper in the eye.

“I’m listening, Whumpee,” Whumper said with a sweet smile. “I’m still waiting for an answer to my original question.”

“How my power’s insufficient?” Whumpee asked, exasperated. Whumper’s hair tightened in their hair in warning. Whumpee searched their mind for some excuse that would satisfy Whumper. “Probably because it’s only healing and not immunity to pain?”

“Ehh,” Whumper said, mimicking the sound of a buzzer being wrong on a game show. “That’s the reason your power is so fun.”

To emphasis his point Whumper pressed the heel of his shoe into Whumpee’s thigh. Whumpee let out a groaning hum, hitting at Whumper weakly.

Whumper let his foot up and smiled sweetly at Whumpee. “No Whumpee, the reason your power is so inefficient is because of the mess you leave. If you could just not bleed everywhere, everything would be perfect, you know that?”

Whumper crouched again and dug a finger into the bullet hole in Whumpee’s shoulder. Whumpee let out a mewling cry of protest, but Whumper just kept hurting them. Whumpee grabbed Whumper’s wrist with both hands and for a moment they stopped Whumper’s painful intrusion.

A moment was all they needed.

“He’s back,” Whumpee said quickly, the words coming out in a pained rush. Whumper stiffened. Whumpee let out a stuttering breath as Whumper retracted his hand only to grip Whumpee’s jaw. Whumper stared into those cold eyes and found fear glistening behind them.

“He’s back,” Whumpee repeated. Whumper’s eyes widened slightly.

“What?!” Whumper demanded, his grip tightening on Whumpee’s jaw. “What do you mean he’s back?”

“I got home and he was just in my apartment,” Whumpee whispered, their voice wobbling.

Whumper let go of Whumpee altogether and stood with a short huff of air. “Why didn’t you just run?”

Whumpee looked up at Whumper. “He was waiting behind my fucking door, Whumper… with that vile flesh ripping dagger he loves so much. It wasn’t like I stopped to have tea and a catch up with him!”

Whumper glanced down at Whumpee again. Then crouched and lifted Whumpee’s shirt. The knife wound was still healing. Whumper remembers that blade taking days for Whumpee to recover from.

“You’re not even lying, are you?” Whumper asked, more to himself than to Whumpee.

“Why would I lie about this?” Whumpee asked, their voice taking on a slightly hysterical undertone.

Whumper’s grip tightened on the gun in his hand. Fingers curling ever so slightly more than he had to as Whumper slid the safety back on and tucked the gun into their shoulder holster. Whumpee didn’t speak anymore because they knew Whumper’s mind was whirling, thoughts forming, making leaps and jumps that Whumpee never could. Analysing every word Whumpee just said to get to the real reason he was back.

“Did he follow you?”

“No,” said Whumpee.

“Are you just saying that, or do you know for definite?”

“I don… I don’t know. Shit. Fuck, Whumper… I’m sorry I— I had to run, and I had to warn you and—”

“It’s okay, Whumpee. I doubt he’ll come. He will have known you ran to tell me after you left so there would be no point.”

“He’s going to do it again,” Whumpee whispered, “isn’t he?”

Whumper pinched his lips together and stood. “Honestly Whumpee? I have no fucking idea…”

“What are we going to do?”

Whumper straightened at the question, his easy confidence falling over his limbs like an entire costume rather than just a mask. His shoulders relaxing and his usual smirk on his face as he glanced back to Whumpee.

“Who’s the needy one now?”

“I’m serious.”

“I know,” Whumper replied. “Well, for now there’s nothing to do. Any bullets left in you?”

“No,” said Whumpee begrudgingly.

Whumper nodded. “Good. Then once they’re healed you can clean my bathroom and have a shower. I’ll wrap the knife wound for you and then we’ll… I don’t know, order a pizza or something.”

“You’re letting me stay?” Whumpee asked, their breath hitching.

“Of course.”

Whumpee’s entire body flooded with relief at Whumper’s matter of fact tone. They opened their mouth to thank, actually, genuinely thank Whumper when he spoke again.

“After all you’re the only one who can get close enough to kill him.”

Whumpee’s smile turned into a scowl as they wrapped an arm around their stomach and another, they hooked over Whumper’s countertop to hoist themself up. “You could have at least pretended that you were worried for my safety.”

“I’m worried about my bloody tiles, Whumpee, and how best to rid myself of two pests that refuse to leave me alone,” said Whumper, running a hand through his hair. He let out a long sigh.

“I knew today was going to be a bad day,” said Whumper. Whumper walked out the door and into the living room. “I’m going for a shower. You know where the mop is, and don’t – I swear for the love of God, Whumpee, if you bleed anywhere near my couch, I will kill you myself. Understood?”

“You’re such a dick.”

“I mean it,” Whumper said, holding a finger in the air in warning as he disappeared down the hall.

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Clone Trooper Hunter, Clone Trooper Hunter & Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Hunter & Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars) (minor), CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Trooper Hunter Characters: Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars), CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Additional Tags: Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Everyone Needs A Hug, Post-Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Season/Series 01, Angst, Whump, Hurt Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter Whump (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Family, Hurt No Comfort, I will not even lie about this, Unhappy Ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Compliant, why does nobody talk about the things that could happen if you fall down a mountain, Never seen anyone do that for Hunter, I’m not going to get into the details but like, how was he still alive, with nothing broken or no spinal injuries people, I think he has a plot armor exoskeleton or something, Febuwhump, Febuwhump 2024, Prompt: Blood-Stained Tiles Summary:

Falling thousands of feet off a mountain is no joke, and Hunter doesn't walk away from that, or Kamino, unscathed.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14327425/1/Febuwhump-Day-Fourteen-Blood-Stained-Tiles

https://www.wattpad.com/1422105604-the-bad-batch-one-shot-collection-febuwhump-day

[the-little-moment]

Nice to meet you! 😊

Hi there! You can call me Lil. I'm in my early 30s and my pronouns are she/her. This blog is dedicated to Star Wars content, mostly Clone Wars/The Bad Batch.

About Me

I majored in traditional art in college and have recently started learning digital art as well.

I love anything to do with flowers, plants, and gardening.

I enjoy reading and writing poetry. A lot of the inspo for my art and writing comes from poetry.

I'm a painful perfectionist when it comes to my projects. 😬

I'm married to a huge Star Wars fan whose knowledge, esp. for EU/Legends stuff, far exceeds my own. He's the one who got me to watch The Clone Wars years ago when I said the animation was too ugly. 😅 (It still is in those early seasons; I'm sorry.)

I'd love to make friends on Tumblr, so always feel free to leave asks, comments, or message me.

Masterlist

My art is all tagged as "#the little moment art".

The tag I use for my writing, which is also being added periodically to My Ao3, is "#the little moment writes".

I'm currently working on two main fics:

"Not Just the Carcass, But the Spark", which is an Echo fic,

Part One - Home

Part Two - Regrets

Part Three - Consequence

Part Four - Lost

Part Five - Dreams

Part Six - Heat

Part Seven - Free

Part Eight - Fragile

Part Nine - Hurt

Here's art for "Carcass" too: There's Never Been a Time

And

"Only What Burns You Back", which is an AU of "Carcass" that focuses on Crosshair.

Part One - Out From Under Our Feet

Part Two - Loss

Part Three - Changed

Part Four - Only Smoke

Part Five - The Sniper and the Surgeon

Part Six - Memories

Part Seven - Through the Heart

Part Eight - Choices

Part Nine - The Hardest Love

Part Ten - Missing

Part Eleven - The Search

Part Twelve - A Strange Peace

Part Thirteen - Second Chances

Part Fourteen - Rosemary

Both fics feature my OC, Senna, who is my profile pic. You can click "#dr divehdi" below to see everything related to her, including art.

Febuwhump 2024

Day 6: Broken Promises

Day 8: Love Sees Not with the Eyes

Angstpril 2024

Masterlist

Other Works

Lunch with Clone Command (Senna meets with some of her friends from the first clone command class. It doesn't take long for things to turn ugly.)

The Quiet Part (An injury brings Crosshair back to Kamino, where he says more than he means to.)

A Small Visit (Four years after she was first hired as part of the Republic's secret cloning project on Kamino, Dr. Senna Divehdi is surprised by a late night visit from one of her favorite cadets.)

A Tender Memorial (Dr. Senna Divehdi, Chief Medical Officer of the GAR, reflects on her time with the clone soldiers of the Republic.)

In Another Life (Crosshair can't face his family after all they've been through, especially what happened to Tech on Eriadu. Even though his brother is now recovered from his injuries and living happily with his fiancée on Pabu, Crosshair's guilt forces him away from the others. In an attempt to maintain their life-long connection, Senna moves away from the rest of their family, knowing it's the only way she can still see Crosshair. This fic is an AU of "Carcass".)

The Dress (Echo has never had an opinion on flowers, never even really noticed them, until now.)

Braided Together (A collection of hair stories featuring OC Senna and the Bad Batch.)

The Embers at the End (Eleven years after the end of the Clone Wars, Sergeant Char, one of the last remaining Imperial clone troopers, is forced to trust a traitor when he and his brother have nowhere else to turn. This fic takes place in a possible future of "Not Just the Carcass, but the Spark".)

[jinxedruby]

Febuwhump Day Twenty-Four: "I'm doing this because I care about you"

Featuring Four and Legend. Probably at least half of the reason I picked Four for this is because it's day twenty-four. I missed my chance at four and fourteen, so here we are lol

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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Four staggered under Legend’s weight as the veteran leaned heavily against him. They half-stumbled, half-ran through the woods, Four’s boots slipping in the wet grass. He took a misstep and nearly lost his grip on Legend, the older boy groaning while his steps dragged. Four gasped, trying to get a better grip on Legend’s tunic, arms aching from supporting him for so long. He risked a glance over his shoulder, trying to see through the lashing rain. He thought he saw shadows move in the distance, weaving through the trees toward them. He turned back around, trying to run faster.

Legend’s boot caught on a root and he toppled forward, bringing Four down with him. Four yelped as he landed flat on his stomach, mud slicking the front of his tunic. He dragged in a breath and forced his trembling muscles to cooperate, trying to haul Legend to his feet. The veteran groaned and swatted at him, mumbling something incoherent. Four paused, pushing a hand beneath Legend’s bangs to feel his forehead. It burned under his palm despite the rain and Four cursed, looking behind them again. A monster screeched, far too close. He threw a desperate glance around. Legend was in absolutely no condition to fight and Four wouldn’t be able to defend him against so many monsters. Tall, thick evergreens stretched high overhead, the needles only blocking out some of the rain. Shrubs grew between the trees but none were big enough for Four and Legend to hide in. A monster cried again, closer, hunting. Four bit his lip and shook Legend’s shoulders.

“C’mon, Vet, please,” he hissed, fingers digging into the red tunic. Legend batted weakly at his hands, mouth twitching in a frown as he shook his head, soaked bangs falling in his eyes. He did nothing to help Four walk. Four looked around again, heart slamming against his ribs. Then he spotted a fallen tree, a massive tangle of roots sprouting from the upended base. Making a hasty decision, he wrapped his arms around Legend’s armpits and hauled him backwards toward the tree. Legend squirmed, attempting to dig his heels in the mud as he clawed at Four’s hands. Four felt a sharp sting as Legend’s nails scratched across the back of his hand but he ignored it. He finally managed to make it around the roots and he dragged Legend up against the trunk. He dropped Legend then shoved him as far up behind the roots as he could without hurting him. Legend immediately tried crawling back out so Four did the first thing his panicked brain could think of and sat on the veteran’s stomach. Four could hardly be considered heavy and in any other circumstance, Legend would have been able to shove him over easily. But Legend’s fever-addled brain could hardly string together a sentence, let alone come up with the coordination needed to get out from under the smith. He tried once or twice before a whine left his throat, head thudding back against the ground in defeat.

A screech sounded close by and Four leaned over Legend, staring out through the roots with wide eyes. The roots only hid them so much. He hoped desperately the monsters didn’t pass too closely on that side of the fallen tree. He caught a flash of armor and a green tail through the roots. He hunkered down further, nearly flattening himself against Legend. The lizalfos slowed, bowed its head to examine the ground more closely. Abruptly remembering all of the mud, Four’s eyes darted out to where he’d stepped. Gouges lined the mud where he’d dragged Legend, but patches of grass threw off the trail and it didn’t lead to where the two hid. He stared at the lizalfos, breathing slowly through his mouth and remaining as quiet as he could.

Legend let out a whimper and the lizalfos stiffened.

Four whipped his head around to see Legend shaking his head from side to side, expression twisted in discomfort.

“Le- lemme go, I did’n… did’n do it…” he mumbled.

Four clamped both hands over Legend’s mouth, breathing picking up as he looked back toward the lizalfos. It stalked in their direction, tail flicking back and forth.

Pain burst in the blade of Four’s hand and he sucked in a breath, yanking his hands back. Blood welled in teeth marks in his skin, the same blood staining Legend’s teeth. Legend squirmed beneath him, shoving at the smith with renewed vigor.

“Lemme go,” he groaned, louder.

“Vet, be quiet, please!” Four whispered, grabbing Legend’s wrists to keep them from pushing him over. Legend responded with a high-pitched whine. Four cursed, glancing back. The lizalfos continued making its way toward them, picking through bushes and growing ever closer. Four forced himself to take a deep breath. He slipped a hand into his bag as Legend whined again, fighting weakly against Four. He glanced down at Legend’s mud-streaked face and sent a mental apology to him. Then he grabbed a roll of gauze and stuffed it into Legend’s mouth.

Legend’s eyes widened and he immediately grabbed at the makeshift gag, yelping into it. Four held his wrists fast so he couldn’t take it out. Between the gauze and the rain, Legend’s vocalizations were hardly audible, but his fighting caused too much movement. The lizalfos would be able to spot them with Legend’s stark red tunic and Four’s multicolored one. Four set his jaw, forcibly jamming his empathy into a corner of his mind. With a shove, he pinned Legend’s arms to the ground and lay flat against him, holding him still. Legend writhed beneath him, abdomen rumbling against Four as he tried to yell. Four bit his trembling lip, narrowing his eyes against the tears. You have to, he told himself firmly. You have to, you’ll both die if you don’t.

Legend’s heartbeat thudded rapidly against Four’s ear as the smith turned his head to get a look at the lizalfos’s position. He caught flashes of it creeping through the shrubs, head sweeping back and forth as it searched. It moved closer to the tree, but didn’t look directly at them. Legend suddenly bucked beneath him. Four jerked, panic spiking in his mind. He shifted, digging a knee into Legend’s gut and pinning him down. He barely made out a muffled whine from the veteran. The bridge of his nose burned, vision growing blurry as hot tears welled in his eyes. You have to.

The lizalfos stopped on the other side of the roots, mere feet away. Its forked tongue flitted out of its mouth, lashing at the air briefly. Four stiffened, all too aware of his bleeding hand. Rain pounded against the ground and trees in a quiet roar and he could only hope the water was enough to smother the scent of blood. The lizalfos stood there, head twitching from side to side, eyes darting around, tongue tasting the air. Four breathed silently through his mouth, Legend’s heartbeat deafening under his ear. Legend continued to squirm, voice muffled by the gag. The lizalfos blinked, licked the air. Then it turned and darted back the way it came.

Four listened to it slink through the underbrush, the sounds growing fainter. He waited a long moment, then another. Then he sighed, going limp over top Legend. Legend twisted. Then he wrenched his arms free of Four and punched the smith in the jaw.

Four yelped, head snapping back. Before he had a chance to recover, Legend grabbed him and threw him to the side. Four hit the ground with a grunt, blinking raindrops from his eyes as he pushed himself up. Legend collided with him and sent him back to the ground, knocking the air from his lungs, head smacking painfully against the dirt. Legend untangled himself from Four and vanished a moment later, hurried footsteps receding behind the rain.

Four coughed, rolling onto his side. He looked to where Legend had run only to see nothing but trees. His eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, head throbbing as he spun around. He barely managed to stop himself from calling after the veteran, cognizant of the monsters that probably still lurked nearby. He jogged a few steps in the direction Legend ran, blood roaring in his ears. His gaze darted to the ground, trying to spot Legend’s footprints in the mud. A few gouges scattered unevenly about the mud here or there, but not enough to get a good sense of where the veteran had gone. Four’s heartrate picked up and he ran further, looking around every tree and bush. Where- how did he get so much energy all of a sudden? He’d barely been able to move and then-

Four took a breath to call out, stopped himself again. He ran faster despite the exhaustion pulling at his legs. He had to find Legend. He had to, if Legend ran into a monster in his state- Four forced the thought from his head, running faster. He’d find him first. He had to.

[across-violet-skies]

Febuwhump day 25: last man standing

Whumpee: Sky

Whump Rating: 10/10

TWs: major character deaths, blood & injury, violence

Sky bared his teeth, fighting with every fiber of his being. All around him lay the carnage of this terrible battle, monsters and brothers alike scattered across the field.

With a sharp yell, he cut down the last monster, chest heaving as it fell. That was it. He had done it.

But at what cost?

Sky was the only one left. The last man standing. Not a single monster lived. His brothers… the knight wasn’t sure what became of them. It had all happened so fast…

Time was struck down first, taking them all by surprise. Their leader was taken out with surprising ease and precision… but they weren’t able to dwell on it long with the threat of an ambush upon them.

Four was next. The smallest of their team was separated from the rest of the group, and swarmed with far too many enemies for one person to handle. Probably even too many for four people to handle. Sky hadn’t seen any sign of the smithy since, but he already knew it was too late.

Legend and Hyrule were taken out together. The traveler had attempted to heal Time as he bled out, with Legend defending them both. A lucky shot to the Vet’s head left Hyrule exposed, ending things for them both. Time didn’t last long without Hyrule’s healing, and soon he had left too.

Wild came almost immediately after them, taken out by a Daria’s axe. There was no way the Champion could’ve seen it coming. The axe lodged itself firmly in his back, digging in deep. Wild fell with a squeak, face smeared with mud as he face planted. He hadn’t so much as twitched since.

Wind fell next. Sky wasn’t sure what had happened– the sailor was fighting nearby one second, and the next… well, it was messy. Some things were better not to think about.

Warriors… he fought strong, and he lasted quite long considering the circumstances. The last time Sky had seen the Captain, he was missing his hand. A horde of monsters easily separated him from the last few Links standing and, from the way things were looking, took him out.

Twilight was the last one Sky saw still fighting. He looked as if he would make it out until his shield splintered and broke from a particularly nasty hit. After that, the rancher was impaled nearly instantly, blood spilling from his lips as he sunk to the ground, internal damage too much to handle without any healing items.

Sky was the only one. He was the first of them, and now he was the last one left. His allies, his friends, his brothers, were all gone.

Gone.

Sky choked on a sob, breath catching in his throat as he fell to his knees. It wasn’t fair, he thought. Why me? Out of all of us… why am I the only one to survive?

He laid Fi in the grass with a pained scream. The blood of his brothers had been spilled all over this… this graveyard. None of them had even died in their own era. What would the people waiting back at home think when none of them returned? Malon? Flora? Ravio? Four’s grandfather? Wind’s grandmother? Aryll?

Goddess. Wind was so young, too. Barely even fourteen… and the rest of them weren’t much older. Hyrule, Legend, Wild, Four… they were all too young for any of this to be on their shoulders. Even the slightly older crowd, Twilight and Warriors, were too young to die. And Time deserved a longer life, one where he could live with Malon and have a domestic family… he couldn’t have that now.

Sky’s chest heaved with each bubbling sob that escaped his throat. He cried openly, letting his tears flow for the loss of eight heroes who didn’t deserve this. Any of it. And it was Sky’s fault. Not the outcome of the battle, not necessarily, but the fact that they had all been “chosen” in the first place. It was all his fault, and now he’s gone and killed the people he considered to be his family, blood or not (and he suspected at least one of them had his lineage).

They were gone. From their smallest hero to their most experienced to their oldest, they were all gone. There was nothing more that could be done.

Sky opened his mouth to the heavens, and screamed.

–> support me on ao3!

[lady-astras]

Solitary Confinement - Febuwhump Day 2

Face your fears, was what Gem had written, her flowy handwriting shaky and barely legible - the last thing she’d left before having gone no-contact with everybody. Etho had been quietly petrified, then, because what could hurt The GeminiSlay so badly? But now looking at it…

Twenty-four hours, that’s all he had to do. The slip of paper vanished into smoke in his hand, leaving no trace. Just one day in this room? He could do it.

The heavy metal door clanged shut and a deep, resounding voice said, “Face your fears.”

Etho didn’t fear the dark.

This wasn’t so bad, he’d spent more time alone in the wilderness. The start of season nine, trying to prove his self-worth wasn’t even that bad. So what was this room trying to tell him?

Well, it was a small room. Once the door had closed, stealing the sliver of sunlight with it, he couldn’t see a single thing. He checked what time it was but found that his communicator had been taken.

That was when the first hint of panic wormed its way in. No contact with the outside world.

Twenty-four hours left.

~~

Humming songs to himself and coming up with new base ideas only sustained you so far. It wasn’t like he could write it down or type it up anyway. But again, it wasn't so bad. Maybe he’d take a nap.

Twenty-three hours left.

~~

He couldn’t sleep. Well, if his judgement of time passing was right, it was only around 1:00 PM - four hours since he’d been chucked in here. Normally, taking a nap right now, or before now, would be out of the question.

Staring at the wall wasn’t so entertaining, though.

Twenty hours left.

~~

It was too dark. It wasn’t even like a moonless night sky with no torches lighting up the surrounding area, because then the pinpricks of starlight could be grounding. No, here it was so dark that the seams of the walls blended into each other. Rather like falling into the void, when you were far enough that you couldn’t see the end islands any more and your elytra had failed you.

Etho was curled into a corner just to keep some semblance of sanity - being able to tell where the floor was, and where two of the walls were, was like those little white specks in the sky for him. 

Maybe he could try counting to pass the time. One, two, three, four, five…

Sixteen hours left.

~~

The higher the numbers ticked up, the more nervous he got. How long was he going to be here? At a rate of maybe one number per second, he’d gotten to one thousand. Doing the maths that was… sixteen minutes? Seventeen, almost? No, no, that couldn’t be right. No way. Oh, it was… well… 

Time was so slow, too slow.

He’d given up a while ago.

Fourteen hours left.

~~

Void, Etho had to be the most pathetic sentient being ever, didn’t he?

His tears weren’t even justified. If it were BDubs in here, the little mossy man would have found a way to entertain himself, maybe crack jokes to the dark air around him, make whoever was listening laugh. But here he was, still curled next to the wall, silent tears dripping into his black cloth mask. The dark was cold, pressing him further into the corner, hard to breathe, think, function. It was leering at him, telling him to face the dark and lonely, grow up and be a real man.

The room was so impossibly big, and yet it was too tiny altogether.

An audible sob wrenched from him, he clutched his soft white hair almost desperately, to feel something, anything, other than this dark SILENCE.

This was going to be the rest of his day, week, year, life. It wasn’t going to end, because that’s how things always ended. Dark, silent, loneliness.

He wanted to scream, cry, beg for mercy, and escape.

Maybe he should take his mask off. It might be easier to breathe. His tears dripped down his face even more, landing on the corners of his lips, so he could taste the salt, that pathetic salt.

He gasped for air.

Nine hours left.

~~

Were those voices in his head? Or were his ears processing them? Were they his, or was someone coming for him? Had it been time yet?

No, they were just his pitiful whimpers for escape.

He was so tired…

Five hours left.

~~

There was a click. Etho looked up, blinking his bleary eyes. He had nothing left to cry, but everything hurt. He’d been sitting still for too long. The room was flooded with bright light from the open door, that metal door.

Everything was too bright. It hurt, it hurt, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP-

“ETHO!” A familiar voice shouted, footsteps sounding on the black concrete floor. They were too loud, he covered his ears. Slowly, slowly, he lifted his head to adjust to the light.

BDubs was knelt next to him, wavering uncertainly - not sure whether to put his arm around Etho or leave it be in case it’d scare him.

Etho made his decision for him, tentatively grasping his hand and tugging him closer into a hug. BDubs obliged, pulling his taller friend in a full embrace, murmuring quiet nothings. It helped to hear a familiar voice, a soothing drone on. He looked up at his friend’s face, twisted into a gentle smile.

Between his senseless murmurings, he could pick up, “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, I’m here for you.”

That’s when it clicked.

The start of season nine hadn’t been that bad because he could talk to anyone at any time. They were all at the push of a button, any time of day because at least one person - cough, Xisuma - was always awake (those insomniac types). 

There wasn’t much time he’d ever spend alone, and it scared him to be unsure whether anyone was even there for him.

So he leaned into BDubs’ warm touch and sighed contentedly.

[cutthroatcarnival]

Febuwhump Day 13: “You Weren’t Supposed To Get Hurt”

Tags/Warnings: mild blood and injury, canon typical violence

Wind is tired of being treated like a child. Twilight is definitely not making it any easier.

Read it on AO3!

Kid Hero

Wind brandished his hammer, performing a spin move that sent his enemies flying, turning them into purple wisps before they even hit the ground. He could see Twilight watching him out of the corner of his eye, fighting the urge to flip him off.

He instead rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth together to prevent anything accusatory from slipping out. The rancher had been like this the past few days; constantly watching and hovering near him, and Wind was starting to grow tired of it.

Why couldn’t Twilight choose someone else to hover over? With a distinctive ‘hyah-bonk!’ He crushed the approaching enemy. It was getting on his nerves; did the rancher think he was unable to deal with things himself? Slamming his hammer into the ground sent the enemies up into the air.

The sailor could feel Twilight’s eyes burning a hole in his back- he wouldn’t be surprised if his tunic had a scorch mark from how much the rancher stared- making his annoyance skyrocket. Wind was a hero multiple times over, he didn’t need a giant mother cucco on his heels.

At least the enemies made a good outlet for his anger. Did Twilight truly think he was incapable? He’s not a child! Hyah-bonk! He made himself the hero! Hyah-bonk! He stabbed Ganondorf through the skull! Hyah-bonk! Wind didn’t need the herding or concern from the rancher at all! Hyah-bonk!

His ears twitched and something inside of him broke, making him whirl around mid-fight, “Stop staring at me!” Miscalculation on his part. He felt a club connect with his head, sending him flying. Laying on the grass, the sailor gasped for breath as his head throbbed. Groaning, Wind pushed himself up, unsheathing his sword, but before he could even take a step, Twilight was in front of him, pushing him back down.

“Sweet Ordona, Wind! Why would you turn around like that in the middle of a fight?” Wind was done.

“If you had stopped staring at me, this little accident would have never happened! You’ve been staring at me all week non-stop!” He seethed, glaring at Twilight, watching recognition and guilt slowly climb onto his face, but the sailor wasn’t quite done yet.

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt-“ Twilight started, reaching out for Wind.

Wind gestured aggressively at the trickling blood on his head, “It’s a little late for that!” All his pent-up anger from the week was bubbling over the surface, “Do you think I can’t hold my own? Well, I can! I’m not some child who needs constant surveillance!” His angry tirade was muffled by Twilight’s shoulder as the hero pulled him into a hug.

“But you are a child,” Wind growled, pushing at the other’s chest, breaking away from the embrace, “You’re only fourteen…” Twilight trailed off, looking away and off into the distance. Some of his anger dissipated, replaced instead with curiosity.

“I’m fourteen, so what? Definitely not the youngest starting age, so what’s the big deal?”

The sheer speed of Twilight’s head snapping back towards him made him jump- the look on his face was a little funny- chasing away most of his anger. Twilight stared at him incredulously, Wind blinked at him in return.

“What’s the big deal? What’s the big deal?! You were, and still are, a child, yet you fight better than some adults I know! You’re an accomplished hero!”

“Then why were you staring at me like I wasn’t?!”

“Because I was afraid you were going to get yourself killed!” He snapped. Twilight slapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide and nervous. Wind stared at the older hero, wearing a face of complete disbelief.

“You don’t trust my abilities?”

“That’s not what I was-“

“It sounded like you were! You don’t trust my abilities because I’m a child, and suddenly my years of heroing don’t matter! In the name of the Three Golden Goddesses, leave me alone!” Wind screamed, whirling around and stomping away, ignoring the looks Twilight and the others were giving him; he was a hero. He didn’t need their pity.

Wind collapsed against a tree, sliding down to slump amongst its roots. Tears pricked at his eyes and quickly flooded over, pattering on the leaves below as they slid off his cheeks. His head ached, so did his throat, and especially his chest. He buried his face into his own arm, sobbing from both the physical and emotional pain. The other heroes would be fine without him for a while.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 24 ALT 5: cpr

another for Day 24 of Febuwhump.

using Alt 5

@febuwhump

I said I was giving Elijah a break, it seems I lied.

opps I slipped and killed him, but it's fine someone knows CPR.

Familiar Faces - set Season 3 x 15 of the vampire dairies

----

‘Well’ he thought as he found himself at the bar, alone. ‘at least there was no spilt blood.’

He had arrived with both Klaus and Kol after they had both insisted and Finn had turned them down. ‘A boy’s night.’

It had been centuries and for one night he wanted to forget the tensions that had grown between Klaus and himself.

However it didn't last long as Klaus had left to follow Caroline, once again ignoring Elijah’s past protest over it, Klaus had developed an amazing ability to completely deafen himself every time Elijah argued against his interest in Caroline.

He wasn’t even sure why he was so against it, for Tyler who Klaus had already ruined his life, for Caroline who had been hurt by one of his brothers before, or because he knew klaus and-  

Elijah took another drink as his mind reminded him of Aurora, what he had done and how Klaus would take that news.

He sighed as he noticed Kol refusing to take the hint that his charming personality wasn’t wanted, it wasn’t until he recognised the people Kol followed to the corner that he realised something was wrong.

This was meant to be a night out with his brothers, one where they agreed not to kill anyone, he could ignore his concern over whatever his first mother and Finn were up to and forget that the white oak may not be as extinct as they had hoped.

He was just about to stand and follow Kol when a sharp familiar pain stabbed him in his chest, his hand moving automatically to his chest, he couldn't stop himself as he slipped from the stool.

He knew this feeling, he realised, ‘but how was he being daggered?’ He wondered before everything went back.

He didn’t feel the floor as he hit it or hear the shouts that followed.

—

Meredith wasn’t sure what she expected when she got to the front of the crowd, other than a call for a doctor, she was almost thankful for it as it had given Alaric a cover to leave with the vampire, however as the sight greeted changed her mind; Elijah Gilbert flat on the floor eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling.

She wasted no time as she threw herself onto the floor beside him, for a brief moment she thought it was another episode, something she was only faintly aware of but some part of her knew it was more.

The wide open eyes, the fixed stare, the stillness.

It was clear he wasn’t breathing and as she started to check his airways she discovered why.

Her fingers pressed to his neck, she held her breath and hoped.

She leant over, pressing her ear to his chest.

Nothing.

No heartbeat. As she let her training take over, placing him in the correct position and opening his shirt with a quick tear ignoring the flying buttons and entwining her hand over the centre of his chest.

As she started on compression she tried to not wonder what would cause a teenager’s heart to suddenly stop.

One, two, three, four,

She ignored the slight cracks under her hands, six, seven, eight, nine,

The boy was someone this whole plan tonight was meant to protect

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

The shout for a doctor had come just seconds after they had stabbed the vampire, enough time for him to fall.

Nineteen, twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty three

The dagger in the vampires heart and Elijah’s stopping around the same time

Twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine.

She had a horrible feeling it wasn’t a coincidence.

Two, three, four, five-

—-

He’d deal with Caroline later Klaus thought ignoring the twinging ache in his chest.

Arriving to find his younger brother limp in his one time body’s arms wasn’t great but easily dealt with, the human hit the wall with a satisfying crack and Klaus had half a mind to stab Stefan with the dagger but he decided as he threw him over his shoulder that having him watch as Klaus killed his brother was a better plan.

—

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen-

It was the fourth set she was halfway through when Meredith almost choked on her relief as Elijah woke suddenly coughing, the heartbeat under her hand beating steadily as if he hadn’t been absent moments before.

“What happened?” he wheezed between coughs, eyeing at her with confusion.

She hesitated and he quickly narrowed his eyes to look at her with suspicion.

“Take me to them before someone dies.” he told her before she could reply.

[quiet-nocturne]

i'll destroy you like i am [royai for febuwhump - day 6: "you lied to me"]

Title: i'll destroy you like i am Prompt: Febuwhump2024, Day 6: "You Lied to Me" Pairing: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang Rating: M overall, but T for this chapter Summary: "“You lied to me.” She spat the words out like they were bitter poison, her sharp eyes never leaving his. He didn't remember them being this sharp at fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. “I entrusted my father's research to you, my back. You told me you were going to make the country better with flame alchemy. Is this making it better?” She swept her arm out to the bloodstained, decimated land around them, filled with crumbling ruins and smoke and bodies."

Hawkeye and Mustang speak following their reunion in Ishval.

Written for the febuwhump2024 prompts (but for RoyAi) on tumblr. Will be updated each day in February. :) Read day #6 on AO3 here!

[lilac-gold]

OMORI AI-less Whumptober 2023

Contents Page:

DAY ONE: Sick Summary: Aubrey falls ill, unable to leave her room. Her mother doesn’t care, and certainly won’t let her friends come visit.

DAY TWO: Overworked Summary: Hero uses studying to cope with Mari's death. Unfortunately, staying up all night studying can lead to passing out at the most inconvenient of times.

DAY THREE: Isolation Summary: Unlike Hero and Sunny, Aubrey didn’t isolate herself. Her friends and family did so for her.

DAY FOUR: Hiding an injury Summary: Mari’s supposed to be perfect, not go running for help. Hero’s got enough of her worries on his plate without her bad knee too.

DAY FIVE: Held at gunpoint Summary: Someone’s got a gun at Hero and Kel’s school. Kel should be concerned for himself, but all he can think about is his brother.

DAY SIX: Mind control Summary: Under Bossman, Hero is a puppet. He has no say in what his body does, and no way to resist when it starts to hurt his little siblings.

DAY SEVEN: Flatline Summary: Basil hears his grandmother die. The sound of her flatlining sticks with him for hours afterwards.

DAY EIGHT: Panic Attacks Summary: Aubrey deals with things using anger. She can control that, but the panic rushing through her is a different matter entirely.

DAY NINE: Presumed dead Summary: In Black Space, he gets constantly ripped apart, and Omori doesn't seem to care. When he returns to Headspace, Basil learns that his friends ended up giving up on him completely.

DAY TEN: Collar Summary: Molly always treats him like he's less than human. Still, Omori really could've done without the constant reminder around his neck.

DAY ELEVEN: Paralysed Summary: Upon a mountain, freezing to death, Spaceboy can't move a muscle. He's beginning to dislike the numbness.

DAY TWELVE: Sacrifice Summary: The Recycultists have never been a threat, not really. Things change when Basil ends up in one of their rituals.

DAY THIRTEEN: Drowning (ALT Prompt) Summary: He's not a strong swimmer, and hasn't been since he was little. Still, Sunny jumps in after Basil, and wonders if he meant for this to happen.

DAY FOURTEEN: Grief (ALT Prompt) Summary: Unlike Mari, Hero leaves a note. Kel finds it just minutes too late.

DAY FIFTEEN: Transformation Summary: Spaceboy tries to fight the anger that threatens to overcome him every single time. It never works, and hearing that tape again is the last straw.

DAY SIXTEEN: Hospital Summary: Mari is familiar with hospitals, especially this one. One place she's never visited before, however, is its roof.

DAY SEVENTEEN: Hypothermia Summary: Maybe climbing a huge, snowy mountain in only her too-large nightgown and with no shoes wasn't the best idea. Aubrey's certainly starting to feel the chill.

DAY EIGHTEEN: Warm soup Summary: Sunny hasn't eaten Hero's food in years. Now, starving as he is, it tastes even better than ever.

DAY NINETEEN: "Why wasn't I enough?" Summary: Locked in the walls, Rococo's starting to go insane. He still doesn't understand what he did wrong.

DAY TWENTY: Stockholm syndrome Summary: Hero, touch-starved and grieving, craves even the tiniest scrap of love. Finding it in Sweetheart was inevitable, really.

DAY TWENTY-ONE: Near-death experience Summary: After Humphrey, his friends seem fine. Omori knows better.

DAY TWENTY-TWO: Punishment Summary: The guilty must be punished. Sunny can tell no-one, so the only one left to inflict punishment is him.

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Forced to watch Summary: When Kel is about to be strapped down to the dissection table, Hero begs to switch places. Kel hears every broken cry that follows as his older brother watches him get cut open.

DAY TWENTY-FOUR: Failed escape Summary: Hero tries to escape the basement. The man who took him films his punishment. (Inspired by @charismabee's 'found footage' one-shot in our Hero-centric Febuwhump earlier this year)

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: "Why didn't you save me?" Summary:  If Basil had been there even a minute earlier, he could have helped. Instead, he made everything infinitely worse.

DAY TWENTY-SIX: Curse Summary: Biscuit used to be able to talk. Now, the only person who understands him is his sister.

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Immortal whumpee Summary: Mari was supposed to be dead. However, looking at herself in the mirror, she sure didn’t look like it.

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Oxygen deprivation Summary: On a mission through the stars, something goes horribly wrong. Before he knows it, Spaceboy is struggling to navigate the way back as his lungs run out of air.

DAY TWENTY-NINE: "The easy way or the hard way?" Summary: Mikhael’s cocky attitude and overall lameness lands him in a bit of trouble when he gets on the wrong side of a group of delinquents at Closeby High. He only hopes the Hooligans come to his assistance soon.

DAY THIRTY: Mind games Summary: Rococo owes Sweetheart his everything, and he knows she loves him… Even if what she says sometimes doesn’t completely align with that.

DAY THIRTY-ONE: Crying Summary: Kel hasn’t let himself cry in years. After seeing Basil’s body in the bathroom, it’s all he seems able to do.

And so, the time arrives! I will be posting each of the above one-shots to AO3 under "Whumptober 2023", as well as here on Tumblr in a series of posts. I will add links to each day once completed, as well as a 'previous' and 'next' to each day on Tumblr. I hope that you stick around and enjoy this month, because it's going to get whumpy!

(In addition to this, I will be doing a collaborative work with @charismabee centred around every alternative prompt for this event. Each day will be set in a different Omori AU that we've created. She is also doing her own version of Whumptober alone, so check her out if you'd like to see more! <3)

[tanushakyrano]

febuwhump day 15: self-sacrifice

okay um. sorry in advance

characters: Scott, Alan, John

additional warnings: nothing specific. it's just sad

________________

Thirty seconds.

The number flashes blood-red on the tiny digital clock at the heart of the tangle of wires and metal. Blue and black and green criss-cross, spilling out from the casing like guts from an abdominal wound. The thing is so absurdly tiny - able to easily fit in Scott's palm - that it's hard to believe that it packs the power to completely obliterate anyone in a radius of over fifty metres.

Twenty-seven.

Scott's eyes flicker around the room. It's small, sparsely decorated, as most rooms in space stations are. Practicality over aesthetics and sentimental decor. The walls are panelled - likely each one has in-built storage of some kind, hidden mechanisms in the designs that will pop open a compartment upon being activated. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flooding the room with an ugly and jarringly bright white light. The metal grating of the floor echoes hollowly as he takes a half-step backwards.

Twenty-five.

Scott's gaze falls upon his brothers.

John is speaking urgently and desperately to Brains over the comm channel, the scan of the bomb having been sent as soon as they found the stupid thing. He's keeping a cool head, somehow. John's always had that uncanny ability to stay in control of any situation, regardless of the risk or complexity; it's what makes him perfect for his role. Scott's lost count of the number of times John has saved his ass over the years.

Twenty-two.

Alan's looking from him to John, as if the solution to the problem will be written on their faces. Problem. Scott nearly laughs at his own train of thought. Yeah, the deadly explosives stuck to the wall are a problem. Their imminent deaths at the hands of said deadly explosives are definitely a problem.

Twenty.

His kid brother looks terrified. He's trying to hide it, Scott can tell, but he knows Alan too well. He can see his clenched fists where he's trying to disguise the tremor in his hands. He can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his breathing quickens.

Eighteen.

They should never have ended up in this situation. So many alarm bells had blared in his head about the distress call John had received, so many things that hadn't quite added up. But International Rescue was founded to help, to save, and his father would never dismiss a call out of hand so Scott didn't even consider it an option.

Sixteen.

He'd made a lot of mistakes, hadn't he? So many missed opportunities, so many failures, so many people he'd let down. Maybe he could make up for them.

Fourteen.

Scott makes his choice.

"Move. Move!" he barks, ushering Alan and John towards the escape pod at the end of the corridor. Alan looks puzzled - understandably, since the pod had long since been ruled out as a potential escape path off the space station because it could only be ejected manually from the external control panel.

Scott has taken this into consideration, of course. But Alan doesn't know that yet.

Eight.

There's a glint in John's eye that indicates he has an inkling of Scott's plan. He opens his mouth to protest - starts moving back towards the mouth of the escape pod - but Scott slams the hatch closed before John can make it out.

Five.

Alan's eyes widen.

Four.

Scott hits the eject button, berates himself for leaving it so late. He prays that he's not cut it too close. None of this will have been worth it if his brothers die.

Two.

"Scott! SCOTT!"

One.

He closes his eyes. He hopes that he will see his parents again.

Zero.

[inquisimer]

softness did not serve me

A short piece for @febuwhump day 5, obedience. At Beraht's request, Nika puts the fear of the Carta into a new recruit.

read it on ao3 here

Female Brosca & Beraht | Rated T | 442 words | CW: torture, blood, child abuse, indoctrination

-

She was sharing a drink with Leske when the summons came. Beraht wanted to see her—not both of them, just her.

They both knew what that meant.

“Bet it’s that new kid,” Nika said. Kid, as if she’d passed more than fourteen cycles beneath the Stone herself. “She’s a little too vocal about Beraht’s style.”

She downed the last of her ale and headed out. Once, she might have made her boss wait; all the scars on her skin showed how he carved the inclination out of her. Now it was someone else’s turn to learn the same lesson.

When she arrived, Beraht pointed her toward the back room. A number of blades and whips and irons were already laid out on the table.

“You’re familiar with smart mouths,” he told her. “Shut hers up.”

The child tied up in the room was the new girl. Nika didn’t know her name. Such things weren’t important down here, not until you’d proven swift and cunning and clever enough to stay alive. She picked up a small dagger, the weight and grip of it familiar in her palm.

“Please,” the girl whimpered. She scooted back along the hard dirt floor, trying to get away as Nika approached. “Please, I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t,” Nika smiled pleasantly, tapping the tip of her blade against the girl’s cheek. “We’re going to make sure of it.”

The girl cried out as Nika slashed the blade down, swift and clean. A thin line of red blossomed against her skin.

“Please,” she begged again. “Please you could just let me go. I’ll—I’ll tell them anything you want, I’ll say you did anything so you won’t get in trouble, please—“

Her face fell at Nika’s laugh.

“Oh, salroka,” she said, drawing out another whimper as she sliced through the other cheek. “There’s just no reason for me to help you.”

Slash, slice, slash.

The child whined and hissed and moaned, but her begging fell on deaf ears. It was really a favor, Nika mused, swapping the dagger for an iron she’d rested in the coals. The menacing, white-hot glow gleamed against the girl’s pupils, blown wide by fear.

Try to teach someone to survive in Dust Town and they’d be dead before any of the lessons took. But they all spoke the language of pain—she might hate Nika now, but she would survive later because of it.

Much like Nika had survived. Harder, colder, meaner—but alive. Wasn’t that all Rica had wanted for her?

“Please,” the girl whimpered. Nika shook her head.

“It’s the only way.”

[fanfictasia]

Febuwhump Day 14

Captivity 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Chosen Twins

Anakin Skywalker

I feel numb as she pulls it off, revealing the gold mechanism beneath. Stay numb, I try reminding myself. I need to keep it like I’m not here. Like… just empty. It’s insane how for a fleeting moment, I wish Sidious was here, because even if I don’t trust him, I know him, and I know he… cares about me in his own twisted way.

To Plagueis, I’m just his experiment. Just like… when he made me in the first place. That knowledge makes my skin crawl.

He moves closer, touching my arm, the skin right above where it’s attached to the prosthetic. The Force around him is different, wrong, and it feels… dirty. It makes me want to claw my skin off – though then again, I’ve felt like that since Mustafar when I realized what I really am. The skin of my arm there is scarred, I know, from lighting, both Dooku’s and Sidious’s.

I feel Plagueis prodding at me with the Force, feel the way it’s twisting around me almost unnaturally. Had I been asked about this, if anyone else were doing it, I might have considered. But now? I just want to be left how I am. I never… regretted being part mechanical, really. I never had a problem with droids. It was only a problem when Jedi looked down on me for it, when… but all in all, it’d helped me a lot. Metal is stronger than flesh. It helped me during the war.

“I’ll have to detach his prosthetic first,” Aniya interrupts. She’s uncomfortable, I can feel it.

There’s nothing like the feeling of belonging to someone, and not in the way of family. This isn’t my choice. I don’t want this. It would be different, I think bitterly, if we were actually prisoners here. It would be better, because now, it feels like we’re doing this by choice. We’re not. We’re captives, really, just not in name.

“Very well,” he replies. Already, from how he’s drawing the Force in through me, I can feel an odd tingling in my arm. It’s radiating up and down, and it’s rapidly turning into a dull ache.

[whumpinthepot]

@febuwhump 2023

Alt prompt 8

Day fourteen: Found Footage

—

Robot whumpee was sent on a mission to get video footage of whumpers base. After all it was programmed to record everything it saw and if it could make it back alive its team could upload the data onto their computers.

Except whumpee didn’t make it back. So its team set out for a rescue mission.

When they got there it was too late.

What they found was a trail of whumpees mechanical body parts scattered around the forest. At the end of the trail was whumpees metal heart. Aka, where the storage of the memory chip would be. This chip that had all of the footage they needed from the mission on it, as well as whumpees last moments alive.

When the team viewed the footage they saw Robot Whumpee watching itself get limb by limb ripped off and discarded, until a gloved hand reached right for its whirring heart, grabbing it and yanking it out of whumpees chest. The video starts to glitch with the heart slowing in the whumpers hands, then fades to black.

The footage ends there…

[jinxedruby]

Febuwhump Day Fourteen: Blood-stained tiles

Featuring Legend and Hyrule.

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

-------------------------------

“What a thrilling way to spend the day.”

“Aw, c’mon, Vet, it’s not so bad!” Hyrule playfully elbowed Legend in the ribs and the veteran just sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re right, I just love being trapped in a dungeon for hours with no map,” Legend said as he and Hyrule methodically crisscrossed the room in search of a hidden switch. He stomped on a piece of the floor that jutted out oddly, gaining nothing but a jolt up his leg at the impact. “It’s great.”

“We have a map!” Hyrule argued, waving the creased piece of parchment in his hand.

“A map that you draw up as we go along doesn’t count.”

Hyrule rolled his eyes that time, prodding at a section of wall. “You guys are all spoiled with magic maps. Champion’s the only one that gets it.”

“It’s not spoiled, it’s called being prepared.” As he said it, Legend struck his sword against the wall. The contact made a solid thunk, just like every other part of the wall.

Hyrule tapped his sword against the wall opposite Legend. “How is it being prepared if you find it in the dungeon and not-“ Tink.

Hyrule’s eyes widened and he tapped the wall again, causing the same hollow, high-pitched tink. He grinned over his shoulder at Legend. “Hear that?”

Legend crossed the room to him, already pulling a bomb from his pouch. “Finally.” He shooed Hyrule aside and lit the fuse of the bomb before dropping it by the wall and backpedaling a few steps. The bomb detonated with a BOOM, the false wall bursting apart and crumbling to reveal another room behind it. Hyrule laughed, eyes sparkling with far too much joy for Legend’s liking as he leapt over the rubble and into the next room. Legend followed after him, picking his way through the debris more cautiously. He stepped through the hole to find Hyrule standing just on the other side. Before he could ask why the traveler had stopped, he saw it himself.

The room stood completely empty.

Legend’s shoulders slumped. “You’re joking.”

“There has to be something,” Hyrule said, walking further into the room. Legend followed after him, scanning the room for anything they could interact with. “There are never rooms that are just comple-“

A familiar flipping sound caught Legend’s attention and his heart sank. He yanked out his shield and whipped around to see a floor tile in one corner of the room rising up, twirling rapidly as it rose.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“The floor’s attacking us?!” He and Hyrule yelled at the same time.

The tile hurtled across the room and Legend ducked behind his shield, the tile shattering against it. The flipping noise multiplied as other tiles in the room rose. Legend turned and sprinted for a corner of the room, dodging a tile as he did. He slid into the corner and spun around in a kneel, covering himself with his shield. Tiles hammered against it, sending shocks through his arm. He gritted his teeth, glanced over the top of his shield to make sure Hyrule was okay. The traveler, instead of hunkering down in a corner and waiting for it to be over like Legend, darted about in the middle of the room. He ducked under some tiles, dove out of the way of others, not using his shield at all. Legend opened his mouth to instruct him, but a tile streaked toward his face in that moment, forcing him to duck down again.

“Use your shield!” he yelled, trying to peek over his shield again. He heard Hyrule grunt, waited until the next tile broke against his shield before lifting his eyes over the top.

He looked just in time to see a tile strike Hyrule directly in the temple.

His eyes widened as the force of the blow knocked Hyrule to the side, the traveler crumpling to the ground and lying motionless. Legend moved to get up, run to him, but the tiles kept coming, forcing him to stay in place and block. He swore, hand squeezing around the handle of his shield. Thankfully, all of the tiles switched their focus to him, none going for Hyrule’s prone form. For several agonizingly long seconds, tiles barraged his shield, his arm throbbing from the repeated impacts. When finally the last tile struck, he waited for a beat before scrambling to his feet and running to where Hyrule lay. As he moved, he could see blood trickling from Hyrule’s temple.

A cloud of smoke puffed ahead of him. A tall figure clad head to toe in armor appeared between him and Hyrule. Legend skidded to a stop, eyes widening. A knight? he thought frantically as the knight stepped toward him, silver sword raised. Here? He stumbled back, yanking his sword from its sheath and lifting his shield. He’d experienced monsters appearing in rooms like this once all of the tiles had smashed, but a knight…

The knight lunged forward and Legend darted to the side, dodging the sword as it sliced the air beside him. He slashed at the figure, the knight twisting so Legend’s sword bounced off its shield. He skipped backwards, blood rushing in his ears. A brief memory of knights like this in the open plains of a dream world rose to the surface. Except they weren’t soldiers, or humans, from what he could tell. Once the word darknut came to mind, Legend relaxed slightly, bizarre though it may have been given the situation. Anything was better than fighting and killing other humans.

The darknut rushed forward and Legend caught its attack with his shield. He leaned around the blow, jabbing at a joint in the armor. The tip of his blade met something soft and the darknut made a sound akin to a grunt, attacking again and shoving against Legend’s shield. He stepped back then hopped to the side as the darknut lunged. He dodged the strike, taking two swift steps and making it behind the monster. He jammed his sword through a gap in the armor. It sunk in deep before he yanked it free, the darknut roaring and spinning around. Legend lifted his sword, prepared to block. The darknut bashed its shield against him, easily breaking through his guard and sending him flying. He slammed into the wall behind him, yelping as his head snapped back against it and stars burst into his vision. He somehow managed to stay standing, staggering as the room spun slightly. He blinked hard, squinting in an attempt to clear the spots dancing in his vision.

They faded just in time for him to see the darknut rushing toward him, sword raised. He lifted his shield only to find that it wasn’t there, having slipped from his arm when he hit the wall. With no time to dodge, he yanked his sword up with both hands. The darknut’s sword crashed against his, shoving him flat against the wall. Legend clenched his jaw, arms shaking as he struggled to hold the weapon at bay. The darknut abruptly shifted its grip, tilting the sword over the top of Legend’s. Jerking, he barely managed to move his head to the side just as the tip of the darknut’s sword stabbed into the wall just beside his ear, chipping the stone. The darknut slashed down, Legend whipping up his blade to block. The tip of the monster’s weapon glanced off of his then tore a large gash into his shoulder.

Legend yelled as pain burst in his shoulder, ballooning out from the wound. The darknut reeled back to thrust its sword through Legend’s middle and he shoved off of one foot, diving to the side. The sword hit the wall with a clang and he tried to strike while the darknut recovered from its missed attack. His shoulder burned, arm trembling, and he missed, sword glancing off the armor. He overextended, head throbbing as he stumbled, struggling to regain his footing. The darknut spun and Legend frantically flung his sword up in a weak attempt to block.

Hyrule bellowed, sprinting in from the side. He plunged his sword through a joint in the armor, shoving the blade deep into the monster’s gut. The darknut froze mid-swing, sword slipping from its grasp and clattering to the floor. Hyrule grunted, yanked his sword out, and stabbed it in again, blade sinking nearly all the way up to the hilt. The darknut curled over the wound with a weak roar. Hyrule tugged his sword out once more and the monster collapsed into a motionless heap.

Legend sighed, letting the tip of his sword fall against the ground. He winced at the motion, pressing a hand to his injured shoulder. He moved toward Hyrule just as the traveler stumbled to him, the two nearly running into each other.

“You okay?” Legend asked, reaching up to gently turn Hyrule’s face to the side to examine the wound.

“That’s my line,” Hyrule replied, brushing Legend’s hand away before the veteran could get a good look. Hyrule set his sword on the ground before putting both hands on Legend’s shoulder, peeling the torn edges of his tunic back. He winced slightly, pursing his lips. “That’s a nasty cut, Vet. Here, I’ll heal-“

Legend knocked Hyrule’s hands away just as they began to glow. “I’ve got a potion, worry about yourself.”

Hyrule glared, grabbing Legend’s shoulder again and ignoring the veteran’s attempts to bat him away. “You have one red potion. I have three green potions. I can afford to spend some magic.”

Legend opened his mouth to protest, but Hyrule had already begun to thread magic into his shoulder. He couldn’t suppress a sigh of relief as the burning pain began to subside. Hyrule glanced at him with a half-smirk and Legend huffed, eyes darting to the side. When Hyrule finished, the wound in Legend’s shoulder had healed to a jagged pink line in his skin.

“Thanks, your turn,” Legend said quickly, grabbing Hyrule’s face again and turning his head. Gingerly, he brushed Hyrule’s brown locks aside, exposing the injury. A dark purplish-brown blotch grew on his temple, a thankfully shallow scrape at the center bleeding sluggishly.

“It’s really fine, Vet,” Hyrule said as Legend turned his head back to examine his pupils. “Barely even a headache.”

“If it hit you hard enough to knock you out, it hit you hard enough to give you a concussion,” Legend responded. Hyrule’s pupils seemed normal, but he knew better than to gamble with a head injury. “Can you heal concussions?”

“I…” Hyrule sighed as Legend released his face to give him a withering stare. “Not very well, but yes.”

Legend made a ‘get-on-with-it-then’ gesture and Hyrule sighed again, pressing his fingertips to his temple. As he healed himself, Legend scooped up his shield from where he’d dropped it and ran a cloth along his blade to wipe the blood off. By the time he finished, Hyrule had healed himself and wiped his own sword clean as well. He slid it back into its sheath and glanced up at Legend.

“So… floor tiles, huh?”

Legend groaned. “Goddess, I hate those things.”

[jupiterleaps]

Complete Febuwhump Masterlist

Complete series list on AO3 here; individual fic links under the cut.

Day One: Helpless

our share of night cw: sexual assault, medical examination, kidnapping, attempted murder

Day Two: Solitary Confinement

the first of many cw: imprisonment, torture, ptsd, anxiety attacks

Day Three: "Bite down on this."

texture cw: food texture issues, ableism, bullying (sort of)

Day Four: Obedience

consolation, cw: kinky stuff, some d/s & roleplaying

Day Five: Rope Burns

here a mist, and there a mist, cw: aftermath of rape

Day Six: "You lied to me."

like a flipped switch, cw: child abuse

Day Seven: Suffering in Silence

many happy returns, cw: offscreen canonical minor character death

Day Eight: "Why won't it stop?"

the sound of drums

Day Nine: Immortality (alternate prompt) (Fic based on the 'Bees' prompt to come later, because I ran out of time)

once more, with feeling

Day Ten: Killing in Self-Defense

first, do no harm

Day Eleven: Time Loop

second verse same as the first, cw: child abuse

Day Twelve: Semi-Conscious

the bubble, cw: aftermath of rape, ptsd

Day Thirteen: "You weren't supposed to get hurt."

17 Scenes on a Pull-out Couch, cw: aftermath of rape, canonical minor character death, ptsd, anxiety, flashbacks, dissociation

Day Fourteen: Blood-stained Tiles

and dandy

Day Fifteen: "Who did this to you?"

an easy answer, cw: torture

Day Sixteen: Came Back Wrong

In Which Ianto Rescues a Helpless Victim

Day Seventeen: Hostage Situation

Unethical Hostage Maneuvers for Fun and Profit

Day Eighteen: Too Weak to Move

live and learn and lie in bed

Day Nineteen "Please don't."

knowing, cw: past canonical minor character death, pregnancy

Day Twenty: Truth Serum

In Vino Veritas

Day Twenty-One: Unresponsive

Third Wheeling, cw: aftermath of rape, ptsd, dissociation

Day Twenty-Two: "You weren't meant to be there."

A Very Torchwood Welcome

Day Twenty-Three: Human Weapon (alternate prompt)

trudging along, cw: aftermath of rape, ptsd, panic attack/anxiety

Day Twenty-Four: "I'm doing this because I care about you."

Interlude: I'm Doing This Because I Care About You, cw: aftermath of rape, trauma

Day Twenty-Five: CPR (alternate prompt)

unfinished business

Day Twenty-Six: "Help them."

priorities

Day Twenty-Seven: Left for Dead

Left for Dead, Right for an Unpleasant Stroll

Day Twenty-Eight: "No...not like this."

the fork in the road, cw: torture

Day Twenty-Nine: Not Allowed to Die

promises you can't keep still count, cw: pregnancy