#febuwhump day sixteen

[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: Hunter & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Characters: Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) (minor) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Angst, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Wrecker Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Protective Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Protective Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tired Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), someone just let him sleep, Febuwhump, Febuwhump 2024, Prompt: Came Back Wrong, Family

Summary:

They all might have survived Bracca, but it still feels as though something died there. And now, they have to pick themselves up in the aftermath, when there's some things Hunter knows none of them can forget.

Read on:

https://www.wattpad.com/1422940823-the-bad-batch-one-shot-collection-febuwhump-day

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14328203/1/Febuwhump-Day-Sixteen-Came-Back-Wrong

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 14: Mask(FD) & Link - Blood-Stained Tiles

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: Mask seems to be the only one that can see what is going on with his big brother and he refuses to stand to the side when he could try to change it. Unlike his own Zelda, this era's doesn't show the same care. Their hero is only a tool.

CW: blood, injury, mild language

Link’s limp wasn’t hard to miss if you looked. His slight hitch in breath when he gave a slight laugh, drew in breath or spoke too much could be seen, if someone would look for it. His posture was guarded, arms stiff and hardly moved away from his sides. His smile was fake, pained and his eyes wanted to shut from the lack of sleep. All of this could be seen if someone just looked.

Mask watched from afar after the battle was over and had slipped the Fierce Deity mask back onto his belt. He saw Link get hit a few too many times and knew he would be kicking for not doing better.

A meeting had been called for in the castle to discuss the next move against Cia and Ganondorf the second the battle ended and Link was off the field. Mask cursed aloud when he lost sight of Link, crowds of people pushing and shoving. Being hip height had its disadvantages, but Mask was not above hitting kneecaps to get through.

It was the rare occasion that the eleven year old hero wished he had his sixteen year old body back. He could easily get through if he was taller, but he wasn’t. He scaled the nearest wall somehow undetected. He balanced his way across beams, careful not to fall into the swarm of bodies below. Living as a Kokiri was like living in one big playground, making this easy.

It still took much longer than he wanted it to to get across the castle, run down the halls to where Link’s personal chambers were. Mask jiggled the locked handle to the door. Link never locked it…

“Link! Open this fucking door!”

There was no answer outside of the shuffling of feet, something being tossed around and something breaking.

“Don’t make me blow this door off its hinges!”

When Link still did nothing outside of continuing on, Mask grew more worried. Link knew that Mask wouldn’t give idle threats, especially ones that included blowing things up.

“Cap, you’re worrying me… Please open the door.”

A few moments later, the door creaked open. “Worried? Now that’s a word I haven’t heard come from you before.”

Mask looked up at him, eyeing him curiously and cautiously. Something wasn’t right. Link had less dust and dirt on his tunic, meaning he had taken it off. He wouldn’t do that for any other meeting, especially with how urgent the Queen made it sound.

“Did you take a potion?” Mask went right to the point.

“No, I didn’t need one.”

“Did you wrap your wounds?”

Link furrowed his brow, “I didn’t have any.”

“Bullshit, I saw you take some hits today. There is no way you went unharmed.” Mask went to push on the Captain’s ribs, but his wrist was caught by Link. “If you don’t have any, why stop me from checking?”

To Mask’s surprise, Link’s expression cracked for a split second before he straightened up. “Because I do not have time right now. There is a meeting being held to strategize our next move. Even if I were injured, our supplies took a great hit today. We are short of most things. Small cuts are not worth my time worrying.” He let go of the younger’s wrist. “Stay here if you want, but I have somewhere to be.”

Mask flinched slightly back at his big brother’s became uncharacteristically angry with him.

Link deflated. “I’m sorry. I have no right to take my frustration out on you.” He took off his scarf, wrapping it around Mask snuggly. “Get some rest.”

Watching Link walk away hurt, but Mask had a job to do. He needed to figure out a way to get the good Captain to rest some. It had been three days since he slept anything more than two hours, a week since he slept five hours at one time.

He sighed with a groan as he walked into the somewhat large room. He went and sat on the bed, kicking his feet while his brain raced. He couldn’t think of a way to help his big brother and even if he did, no one would take him seriously due to his age. Well… he was just going to have to make them listen.

Looking around the room again, something caught his eye. Something white and red. ‘That bastard.’ He knew what it was before he reached it. It was old bandages that someone had tried to hide. That meant that Link had been hurt some time before and hid it from everyone.

Mask pushed open the bathroom door, wanting to take all the bandages out of there and hide them so Link would be forced to seek out proper help. What he wasn’t prepared to see was blood smeared across the marbled tiled floor. Several towels had been used hopelessly to clean up the mess and there were still small pools of blood that hadn’t been touched.

Mask’s breathing picked up as he took a few steps back. Horror gripped him like an icy hand around his middle. That was too much blood. How much was Link hiding? How much worse was he than Mask had originally assumed?

His anger roared back like a grease poured on an open flame. He folded Link’s scarf in a hurry, tossing it on the bed. He was on a warpath to where this so-called meeting was being held. He ran through people, not caring who it was. Many times he collided with the wrong people, all agitated warriors or nobles. A few pushed him away hard enough that he landed on the ground and nearly trampled. The others only spoke harshly towards him.

None of this stopped him from reaching the guarded doors that held the highest ranking officials in this Hyrule. He thought about blowing the door off the hinges, but that would cause too much destruction and bring too much attention from outside people. Direct approach it was…

Mask kicked and screamed as the guards tried to pick him up and throw him out of the castle for intruding. ‘This shit again, really?’ He managed to get a few good kicks to the door, calling for Link. With no one responding from behind the doors, Mask bit one of the guards and pulled the Fierce Deity mask from his belt threatening to put it on, backing up slowly, then literally kicked the door open.

“What is the meaning of this interruption?!” one of the nobles asked as everyone jumped to their feet.

Mask eyed Link as he tried to stand up fully without wincing. Link tried to keep eye contact, but sat down first with a hand holding his ribs.

Two more men went to snatch Mask, but he raced over to the way too oversized round table and climbed onto it. The Queen waved her hand for them to stop.

“Mask, what brings you here?” Zelda asked, calmly.

“Him!” Mask pointed at Link as he tried to catch his breath.

Link huffed, “Mask, go back to the room and get some rest, please. There is no concern here for you to be worrying over.”

“You don’t get to speak, Cap! Not after what I saw!”

Losing patience, Zelda also sat back down, prompting the others to do the same. “If something was wrong with our Captain, he would say something.”

“Are you blind? Are all of you blind to what is in front of you? He is injured, still injured from the battle before today, hasn’t slept in gods know how long, eating is a rare thing and he is refusing any medical treatment because he thinks it would be wasted on him when he should be the first person to receive it!”

“We are at war, child. There has to be sacrifices even if it comes to oneself.” A random nobleman said.

Swiftly turning, Mask gritted his teeth as he spat out. “No one was talking to you.” Looking at the Queen again, he asked, “How well do you sleep in your ivory tower, knowing that this war is all on Link? He has saved you, Impa, Lana, everyone in this room, this whole kingdom, but who is saving him as he drowns in his own thoughts of doubt and self worth? Who does he get to lean on when it becomes too much to carry alone on his shoulders? He isn’t some plaything from the goddess, he is a real person who deserves better than this. Heroes deserve better than this!”

The same nobleman decided to speak up again. “What would you know of a Hero’s job? You call yourself a hero, but how could an eleven year old understand the complexity of war and what Link is to uphold his part as the hero?”

Rage boiled in Mask’s veins, slowly turning back to the old man. “I took up the role of the hero at age nine, where I was sent to the future by sleeping until I was sixteen. I fought Ganondorf and his bloodthirsty monsters and I defeated him. When I was sent back to my original time as a nine year old, I did it all over again. I earned the title Hero of Time, though it came with many steep costs. I went to an unknown land called Termina, ridding it of one of the most powerful demons ever known to the world, Majora. I did both adventures alone outside of my fairy and the few that I could trust to point me in the right direction, but I walked alone.

“The work of a hero is damning and lonely, even if we aren’t alone. No one truly understands what we need or what we go through. I refuse to let another hero go through the hell I went through for the sake of his country. I don’t care if I have to do it from my grave, heroes from now on will never have to walk alone.”

The silence was interrupted by a puzzled Queen. “This still has nothing to do with you. Leave, Mask, we have work to do and every second that you waste by badgering us with things that are irrelevant, Ganondorf gets stronger. If Link has a problem or an issue, he knows how to deal with it. He is an adult, capable of taking care of himself.”

“Clearly not by the state of his bathroom! The tiled floor is stained in blood, fresh blood has pooled on top of it from where he tried to take care of himself and I’m surprised he’s even standing by how much was there! Do you not care for your Hero?”

“He is not my responsibility!” The Queen stood, matching Mask’s height where he stood.

“Mask, that is enough. This only makes matters worse. It doesn’t matter what happens as long as we win the war.” Link rubbed his face, elbows on the edge of the table. The lack of self preservation was overwhelming. Mask knew what it was like, but his big brother was being thrown to the wolves with no hope.

“See, boy, if our good Captain Link says he is fine, then why should we be listening to you? Now, run along and let the adults handle things.”

If Mask could have gotten away with it, he would have skewered that old bastard. Instead, he took the Fierce Deity mask, sighing, “Since you won’t listen to me, maybe you will listen to him.” He pressed the mask to his face with a scream. The scream wasn’t because of the pain like others thought, but because of the amount of emotion trapped inside with no way to release it except when Mask used them. Fierce Deity's hurt the worst.

“Mask no!!” Link hollered and scrambled to get to the youngest in the room.

The wooden table groaned under the weight of the god that now stood where the young Link was. The Deity knew why he had been called on, afterall he could go through the mask’s wielder's thoughts. His glowing eyes took in the room, landing on Link who was now doubled over and clutching his side, blood coming through the green tunic.

The Deity growled in disgust, “It takes a child to make you see what you already know, yet you call yourselves the responsible adults. I would have never treated my own men with such disregard.”

Much like Mask, his eyes locked on Zelda’s, lips pulled back to show all his teeth. “You, Queen Zelda, I would expect so much more from my sister’s blood than what you have become. You disgrace the goddess’s bloodline and all she believed in.”

Link took in a wheezing breath. “D-Deity…” He collapsed to the ground, head nearly slamming into the stone floor if it weren’t for the Deity’s quickness.

Large gloved fingers inspected the head in his hands, feeling for damage. He sighed when he felt the bump below the crown of the young man’s head. If he remembered correctly, Link got his with a shield there. Placing the man’s head on the ground softly, the Deity pulled the tunics and chainmail up, showing bandages soaked and hardly wrapped around him properly.

Almost like she cared, Zelda was at their side. “I had no idea… truly. We need to get him to the infirmary right away.”

“You will do nothing. You do not get the right to suddenly step up for him and care about his well being. I will take him to his quarters and watch over him. He needs rest, not people hovering over him. Besides, friends and foe are wearing the same colors nowadays.”

With Link in his arms, he made his way to the door, but stopped short to say one last thing. “If his body gives way and we lose him, my host will not fight in this war, I will make sure of it. You will do this on your own and you will lose.”

[scratchandplaster]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 21 - Lightning strike

CW: parental Whumper, conditioned Whumpee, hypnosis, betrayal

Previous | [Masterlist] | Next

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The storm raging outside had been no surprise. Otis helped to upgrade the tents beforehand, so the aftermath would be predictable enough to not resow any doubts. In barely half a week, everyone who dared to saw Reuben's efforts to settle in as a smooth success.

His "other one" was still writhing aimlessly.

Nothing more than a few clicks and a hopeless fight against the sluggish Wi-Fi were necessary, after nearly two years in the dark, Shepard was awarded with the address of Luke's shelter. 427 Parkway Drive - the brick front was virtually smiling at him, a half turn away from the international house of pre-diabetes and Red 40. Birdie would get an aneurysm if she every caught her children in there.

A shy knock at the door, nearly inaudibly through the gusts of wind and its rumble, ripped Shepard from his thoughts. Ben slipped through and latched it tightly shut.

Perfect timing, as if appointed. The laptop screen was preventively closed down to a bright slit.

"Hey, Dad," he carefully draped his raincoat over a rack, "I brought the kids over, they are a bit restless." Over to their guardians, as it should be. Handling even two children felt like a Herculean task to Shepard, five would go beyond any reasonable cat herding.

"Well done, sweetheart." He grabbed a spare blanket from the couch to wrap around Ben's wet self. Little droplets fell from the short curls he hopefully planned to grow out again. All bundled up, Ben was pulled in closer for a hug: "We can have a sleepover too."

"Yeah, well, I'm not stepping out there again!" He, too, felt nervous about the storm and winced at every flash of lightning shining through the windows.

"Me neither," his dad huffed skeptically, "Let's hope this shed doesn't turn into a houseboat overnight!"

Nature continued to let its fury whip through the fields, twisting and turning every loose object to its pleasure. Cradling his son and arranging him so sit comfortably on his knees was Shepard's first priority, the second quickly followed suit.

"Do you know how lightning comes to be?" he spoke and let his voice offset the wild howling behind the glass, "Far up in the clouds, thousands and thousands of little raindrops grate against each other. Imagine the tension between them, the electric current jumping from every water bead to the other, over and over and over and over, never stopping, never resting. But the tension doesn't fade. It builds up by a tenfold, over and over and over, until it has no choice but to - release."

Exhaling deep on the last word, or rather command, Ben once again found himself relaxing. Any escape from the storm was welcome.

Shepard's restless scientific speech was finally interrupted by another harsh flash that pulled his son out of the comfort surrounding them. A loud boom quickly followed.

"What do you think, Ben: is it close above or already drifting further away from us? Check this for me, please."

Ben, trying his best to stay calm and secure, began to count the seconds between lighting and thunder. This skill had been a lot more important when they used to live in the old camper: just Shepard, Luke and he.

A flash.

"One...two...three-"

Thunder rumbled.

Waiting for the next one didn't take long. Shepard kept himself busy by warming his son's freezing hands with his own.

"One...two...three...four..."

Ben lulled his brain into mindlessness at his own free will, dragging himself up and down the states of consciousness without Shepard even needing to lift a finger. Every new thunderclap brought him back up, though the lingering relaxation continued to twist into itself with every new count-up.

"...sixteen...seventeen..." The tiny thoughts got swallowed halfway between his lips and ears as Ben sunk further into Shepard's embrace.

Another round, and then another. Just as nature above, Ben stared to let go of all tension that sparked up inside his gray matter.

"...twenty-two...twenty-three..." At last, the telltale soft voice, slack face and distant gaze surrounding his son made Shepard reach out for the laptop and interrupt the peaceful counting.

"Believe it or not, I found something really interesting. Be a gem and help me for a second, starshine."

Oh. Ben could always help his dad out, it was his special talent. He sat up straight, surely this hot new project was nothing more than a breed of zucchini he wanted to cultivate or a plan to cobble a different beehive blueprint together.

Shepard, cautious and at his limit, had to be play it safe. One mistake and Lukas would slip from his grasp once again; an unforgivable error.

"I need someone to greenlight the info I've collected."

Instantly, as Ben recognized the house on the screen, his expression turned from calm to startled. Brow furrowed in confusion, he began to twist uncomfortably out of the blanket, verifying everything Shepard had to know.

"Thank you, Reuben." His father's apologetic smile didn't help a bit. Ben was shocked, more at himself than the situation he was stuck in.

"I never-"

Thunder rolled through the fields, but Ben couldn't care less. Looking away in panic, he struggled to push the gentle presence in his mind away, to resist the urge to agree with every single of Dad's words. Shepard, for one, didn't appreciate the sudden antipathy. A hand sneaked to the small of Ben's neck.

He had to ignore the soothing gestures, for Luke's sake. Ben had kept his mouth shut, he knew that he did! He was so relieved that Shepard didn't even ask once, so how was this possible? 

Should he lie to his father? They both knew he was horrible at it.

"I-I don't understand!" A single finger under his chin made Ben's face turn around to witness his helplessness mirrored in honey-brown eyes. They were studying him intently.

"I don't want you to understand, Ben," Shepard said gently, only the murmur of rain withstanding his words, "I want you to follow."

The world was pulled out from under Ben like a rug.

An all too loved force spread through his body at rapid pace, forcing his pupils to blow wide. Like a deer in the headlights, only the shock let his last thought hang by a threat of resistance.

"Don't fight it, you're going to give yourself a headache again. Just listen and follow."

Eventually, Ben's heavy eyelids fluttered until they were simply too heavy to do so anymore. Weak against any command, he collapsed into his father, arms hanging numb at the sides.

Hours of persuasive assurance were now ingrained as absolute truth into the most delicate part of his mind, the one that wailed for fatherly attention. It listened without protest. In return, Shepard would always take care of it, finally making a pledge in earnest. 

There was lightning at the end of the valley.

This time, Shepard counted for his son, pressing his mind deeper into docility. Ben was safe, loved and a traitor; gone completely as he slipped down the shortcut which Shepard had whittled into the twirls of his cerebral cortex. 

The chances to twist away from him again were just as lost. The storm had moved on.

"Secrets will only eat you up, it's better to share them. I absolve you from my and Luke's complicated arguments. I swear I will never make you do something like this again," Shepard assured and carefully stroked along his son's back, allowing the fatigue to catch on, "It's an emergency, you surely agree. We need Luke, just as he needs us."

Acceptance popped up in his son's face: he was an open book you could rip newly written pages out of and blacken to your whim. Reuben would've never survived out there, nothing to be ashamed of.

Shepard warily carried him to the cot and turned the heater on high. Electricity was the office's main perk. One day, Ben's mind would explode because of all his contradictory feelings. For now, it was kept safe in capable hands.

Shepard needed to pack his essentials, yet before setting out he made sure no sting of guilt would bother Reuben in the morning.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: Day Sixteen

Prompt: Came back wrong — (@febuwhump )

TW: possession, character death, coming back wrong, emotional Whump, deals with devils, blood, mention of blood, blood drinking, betrayal

*~*~*~*~*

Lover waited by Hero’s body, clutching their hand in both of theirs, head bowed and crying.

It had to work.

This had to work.

After everything they’ve been through, after being the Hero everyone loved — the stupid, self sacrificial Hero ready to save the world and never themselves.

Lover warned them. They warned Hero if they did something stupid, something they couldn’t come back from then Lover would do something equally — if not more — stupid than them.

Lover glanced up at Best Friend who stood at the wall beside the door, arms folded tight across their chest, head resting on the wall behind them. Best Friend met Lover’s eye and quickly looked away. Lover got a flash of their bleak argument from before…

“They will never forgive you if you bring them back!”

“I can’t live with them being dead.”

“And you think they’ll thank you for dragging them back into the same world that destroyed them?!”

“Please,” Lover whispered, resting their forehead on their hands over Hero’s. “Come back to me.”

Hero stirred in bed. Best Friend gasped, shifting forward at the movement. They had seen Hero be killed. The blood from the mortal wound still stained their clothes! This… this was wrong. This… Best Friend shook their head, tears pinpricking their eyes at the thought that their best friend wasn’t dead.

Lover lunged forward with a cry. “Hero?”

Hero let out a low moan, then opened their eyes. Lover reached over them, head over Hero’s heart and they heard it beating. Then the dam opened and Lover sobbed as Hero slowly stirred into consciousness.

“L…lover?” Hero rasped. A hand was in Lover’s hair, Hero’s hand and Lover cried harder. Hero’s eyes flicked to Best Friend who stood with their hands balled into fists at the sides. “Best friend? What’s— what’s—”

Lover leaned back to cup Hero’s face in their hands. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay! We’re okay, we’re all okay. You’re okay.”

Hero chuckled. “Of course I’m okay, just a couple of bruises as usual.”

Best friend stiffened but Lover leaned in and kissed Hero’s lips. Hero responded immediately, then let out a small whine and Lover got off them.

“Sorry… sorry, I’m just…” Hero said, clearing their throat. “I’m really… thirsty.”

“Water? Do you want water?”

Hero coughed and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

Lover quickly left. Hero looked at Best Friend when they got their breath back. “What happened?” They asked.

Best friend looked away, not quite looking at Hero as they replied: “you took quite a beating.”

“Yeah,” Hero said. “Must’ve. I don’t… I must have blacked out or something.”

Best friend swallowed. Hero frowned, then struggled to sit up. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Hero scoffed. “You’re my best friend, I know when you’re lying. Tell me, did something happen?”

Best friend screwed their lips up tight and turned their body slightly away from Hero. “Listen. We’re all okay. That’s what matters.”

Hero’s brows knit together in confusion. They just nodded, because they didn’t know what else to do as they tried to think about what the last thing they remembered was.

Best friend was there… Hero remembers seeing their eyes, seeing them cry and scream but what they said was missing, as if the world was muted.

Loved returned with water and a big smile. They crossed the room with two quick strides and sat at Hero’s side holding the glass to their lips. Hero smiled and wrapped a hand around Lover’s as they drank.

Hero drank the entire glass. Then frowned. Lover leaned into them. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Hero lied, though the unquenchable thirst still lingered. They probably just needed more water but they were happy right now. Happy with Lover beside them.

Hero’s hand went to Lover’s and they brought it up to press a kiss to it. They were so happy… so overwhelmingly happy all of a sudden and they wanted to ravage Lover in every way possible to show them… to share with them their happiness. Hero didn’t know what happened but they felt great. So good.

Best friend jerked forward and took Lover’s hand from Hero’s and yanked them off the bed. Hero frowned, glancing up at Best friend and taking in the look of terror on their face.

“What’s wrong?” Hero asked in a voice that wasn’t their own, but that didn’t matter. Not when they felt like… like this. “Something on my face?”

“No,” Lover cried, shaking their head. “No! No, what’re you doing?! This wasn’t the deal!”

Hero chuckled in that foreign voice and stood from the bed. Best friend pushed Lover behind them and started to back towards the door, not letting Hero out of their sight.

“The deal… oh yes, the deal. Now I remember. Our deal was,” Hero said, matching every step they took back with one forwards. Menacing. Predatory. “If I bring back poor dead Hero, then I take over your heart.”

Hero grinned and spread their arms wide. “The terms of our deal are intact.”

“What?” Lover breathed. “No. My heart! Those were the terms!”

Hero chuckled again. Then they stopped and pressed a hand over their heart. “I have it, Lover. Right here. The object of all your love. Your heart is Hero’s, Hero’s is yours. Love… it can be a very complicated process for you humans to understand but don’t worry, I’ll take great care of Hero.”

“No!” Lover cried, but Best Friend was at the door now and shoved Lover out behind them. Best friend slammed the door to the room shut and turned to grab Lover’s hand and run.

“We can’t leave them!” Lover cried.

“We have to,” Best friend yelled, not letting Lover’s hand go as they ran down the stairs. “We have to warn everyone about what’s happening.”

They got to the door and Best friend skidded to a stop with a gasp, their eyes blowing wide. Hero smiled at the pair of them, tilting their head to the side.

“Leaving so soon?” Hero asked with a pout. Best friend swallowed hard. Hero cast their eyes to Lover. “I’m still a bit thirsty, Lover, would you mind?”

Best friend stepped in Hero’s line of sight, their lips curling back into a snarl. “Don’t touch them.”

“Ah. My best friend, you’ll do.”

Hero lunged for best friend and with inhuman strength and speed they ripped Best friend from Lover and slammed them against the front door. Best friend cried out as Hero stroked a finger down the curves of their throat.

“Just a little taste, it’s been so long since I’ve had fresh human blood.”

Hero didn’t leave best friend any time to process their comment before they sunk their teeth into Best Friend’s neck to the screams of Best friend and Lover. Hero smiled against Best Friend’s throat.

Oh yeah, they were gonna stay around with the mortals for a while.

[vio-starzz]

Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience

Mmmm, this one is fairly.. Violent. Yeah.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Characters: Shadow Link (Mentions of Link, Vaati, and Ganondorf) Tw: Beating, electrocuting, stabbing, violence, (seizure?), mentions burning/branding

»§«

Good or evil, it mattered not to fate how things would play out. 

Link would always serve Hylia, no matter the pain or agony it caused. They’d always follow down the path of the hero, of good, and that never changed. They’d vanquish evil, no matter how many times it happened in a lifetime, no matter their view of the fate they’ve been vined into: The hero's spirit stood strong on complete obedience.

So will its counterpart. 

No matter how many beatings it takes. 

Which honestly, to Shadow, was looking endless. They didn’t want to obey Vaati or Ganondorf, they didn’t want to have to be the bad guy to someone they’ve watched for so long.

Which fuck, they’ve watched Link for forever at this point. Sixteen years were they watched from right below their form, watched them go through hell: yet awfully find a way to mask it all. They can't be against them! 

They can’t just let themselves get beaten into submission…

But it’s getting worse. The pain is becoming unbearable.

The branding, searing straight into their back, the constant whipping, starving, drowning, punching, and abuse is too much… But Link doesn’t deserve to go against their shadow. 

This fate is too cruel towards a friend.

One of the guards passes by, looking at Shadow in disgust as they continue forward…. Nobody gets why such a shriveled weak shadow doesn’t want the power to be the only Link.

Shadow doubts they’ll ever understand.

After a few hours of peace and rest, they’re woken up quickly to the sound, and feeling of being dragged and…. Chained up.

They try to open their eyes, to figure out who it is this time…. Only to be met by a piercing, awful, painful feeling through their chest. As their body flails a bit and gets even further pinned against the wall by a blade sunken deep within their heart. Or, they like to believe they have a heart, even when they know they shouldn’t.

The pain is miserable, and without warning they’re soaked with water. It’s not exactly painful, until the shock hits, conducting off the end of the spear, jolting into their body several times, making them convulse, shaking violently as they try, and fail to let out a scream. 

It’s hard to keep or focus on anything, the pain isn’t stopping. 

The chains are released, as they fall to the ground, still twitching yet no break.

 They feel the spear twisted and then yanked out violently, before getting kicked against the wall painfully. Their body stiffens up, and slowly starts to twitch and lose control. 

His legs felt numb and weak, and their eyes started to roll back as they convulsed more strongly this time. 

They were losing grip or reality and their body, no, their mind couldn’t even think right. It’s like everything's spiraling. 

After a few minutes, their eyes shutter close, and they let death succumb more easily as they feel the painful agony of the sensational searing of the light's power. 

Their ears bleed, it felt like everything bled, but…. Eventually they were back to the void they once watched Link in. Maybe, just maybe they can rest….?

For once, perhaps they can let their thoughts drift back to nothing, go back to the shadow who had no voice, no thought, no pain…. Just what they saw, and not what they had to choose.

But, alas, no god cares to save someone being dragged into the same, awful, fate as somebody far more important.

They feel as their soul is dragged back out of the mirror. Slowly clinging and forcing its way to take form, one different than before, as they feel clammy and soaked. Being layered with guck and the stingey smell of soot as without warning, they’re thrown out and slammed into the stone brick wall… Even as their body is still forming anew and rearranging the scattered limbs, mangled bones, and lost thoughts they held before. 

It’s an extremely painful process, and their body is still scarred, lacerated, and bruised from all the previous beatings: As if the pain latched into their soul and felt the need to make it seem as though their bones crushed and strangled into none all together. 

It was too much, if that was the last beating it’ll only get worse.

Still, the beating wasn’t over. 

Grabbing Shadow’s left ear, they pull a blade out, and practically hack it off, before kicking them back, stabbing their spear into their left leg, and jamming the heel of their shoe into his stomach. Causing him to cough and wince back in pain.

They still couldn’t help but stay silent, screaming would only make this worse. It always had. Maintaining silence unless asked for otherwise is the only correct, and safe, option. 

“I will ask you once more.”

The voice snarled, getting close to them with a blade, threatening to take the other ear. They grab the ear, holding it tight and painful.

“Who. Is. Your. Lord. And. Master.”

….Shadow is sorry. That is all Shadow can be towards Link. They are sorry for it all. But they have no choice… It’s not gonna work anymore. They can’t handle this pain, Shadow isn’t the strongest warrior, they aren’t good at hiding pain, and getting through it like Link is.

Even if Shadow doesn’t bleed red, they do bleed black… Enough blood though, is enough blood. Enough pain… Is enough pain. This is their limit. They tried, and failed…. But even in the end, at least they tried?

So because of this, Shadow is sorry.

“…Y…You are…”

[stardustandash]

Last of the claimed febuwhump fics! This one is for @breakfastteatime who requested solitary confinement for Jedi Fallen Order. Hope you enjoy!!

Words: 2,099

Tags: whump, hurt no comfort, pre-Jedi Survivor, Claustrophobia warning

ao3 link

seven thousand, nine hundred and twenty minutes

Four thousand, three hundred and fifteen minutes. That’s how long Cal had been trapped in the little durasteel room. Four thousand, three hundred and fifteen minutes. And sixteen minutes, actually. He wasn’t sure if that was correct, he’d only started counting when he was bored enough, and he’d slept a few short stints somewhere between the counting.

The room itself was small and empty. At Cal’s best guess it was a roughly six foot cube of plain grey durasteel, with no visible door anywhere in the smooth plating and two bright, buzzing lights overhead flush with the durasteel around them. He had no memory of being put in the box. The last thing he remembered was being out in some small spaceport town picking up some supplies for Greez. He had a vague recollection of fighting someone, flashes of running through a street, sending BD-1 for help, but not much else. When he’d woken up it had been with a pounding headache and a very tender spot on the back of his head, but after three days’ worth of minutes he was starting to string his thoughts together in a more organized fashion.

Now Cal was just bored. And worried. What had happened to the others? He can’t quite remember if they were on the ship or out in the town with him. He could remember that Merrin had insisted on making breakfast and it had been something spicy with eggs and sausages and some kind of plant she’d picked up somewhere that Cere and Greez avoided, but he couldn’t picture if she was with him when whatever happened to get him locked in here. He hoped that she wasn’t. Ideally the others were mounting some daring rescue and he just had to wait for them. Too bad he’d never been good at waiting.

Cal paced the room. There was nothing better to do. The only thing he had to avoid in it was the small toilet in the corner of the room. There was no other furniture. He ran one hand along the wall as he went, searching for any kind of crack or crevice that could show signs of an exit. Four thousand, three hundred, and thirty six minutes, and he still couldn’t find anything.

It took him a long time to notice that he could’t feel the Force either. It was around him in the room. He could feel the space of it through the Force, the corners, the sad little toilet, but he couldn’t feel beyond the durasteel perimeter. Once, when he was young and small and impressionable, Master Tapal had sat him down and discussed methods of keeping a Jedi captive.

“Firstly, I must impress upon you that this is all for a worst-case scenario. As long as I, or Commander Gamut, are around we will do our utmost to protect you,” said Master Tapal.

“Then why bother teaching me about it? You hardly let me go on missions anyway,” Cal whined.

“Because knowledge will help you overcome your fear and give you the tools you need to escape.”

Cal huffed. He preferred physical training to the lectures from Master Tapal. This was boring. Besides, Master Tapal almost never let him out into the field so it wasn’t like any lectures on what to do when captured or behind enemy lines was ever going to be useful. He wanted to learn fun things, like how to wield a dual-bladed ‘saber like Master Tapal.

“To begin: when a Jedi is captured, they are likely to be known as a Jedi immediately. We wear our robes, and we have our lightsabers. Both identify us as who we are.”

“Then why don’t we dress like other people? The clones and the other soldiers all have uniforms.”

“Because, Padawan, we stand at the end of a long thread of tradition, and that is not a tradition of war. We are peacekeepers, not soldiers. We must remember that we are trying to end this war, not fight it.”

Cal thought that it felt very much like they were fighting a war. Nobody on the holonet talked about peace or an end, just what battles were going on and what the Hero With No Fear was up to.

“If you are caught, they will take away your lightsaber. This does not disarm you, as you will always have your connection to the Force. But, if they are prepared, they will have special binders on hand to dampen the Force to us, make us as any other person in the galaxy.”

A cold chill shuddered down Cal’s spine. He couldn’t imagine not being able to feel the Force. “Then what do I do?”

“Well, hopefully, I come get you. But if not, Commander Gamut and Sergeant Twitch will show you various methods you can use.” Master Tapal leaned back with a smile. “Though I imagine I will regret this lesson very soon.”

Cal had never heard of Force-dampening walls before, but perhaps either bounty hunters or the Empire had gotten creative sometime in the last six years. He can’t think of anything else it might be. He wished whoever was holding him had just gone for the binders, it would’ve made this whole situation much easier to handle as he could’ve picked them and been on his way.

As Cal paced he could almost hear the accented voices of the clones walking him through the steps to pick the lock on a set of binders. How to turn the locks, the feeling when you knew part of it had sprung. He turned the corner of his tiny prison and saw a flash of yellow and white out of the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t help it. Cal jumped backwards, tripping over his feet and falling into the wall behind him. The tender spot on the back of his head throbbed with a new ache. With a groan he picked himself up and reached back to touch the sore spot. His hand comes back bloody. Just what he needed, an upgrade from probable concussion to definite.

As Cal stared at the blood on his hands he couldn’t help but feel a little foolish. It had been years since he had seen a clone, and more since he’d seen one in 13th Battalion yellow. There was no reason to be afraid of them now, so many years later and with clones phased out of the Imperial army. No, what he should really be afraid of was what could lie beyond the durasteel walls of his prison.

-

Five thousand, seven hundred and sixty minutes. At least, by Cal’s reckoning. He had slept for a while, but unlike the last few times he’s curled up on the hard floor under the harsh lights of his cell, this time when he woke there was no water waiting for him. Maybe they forgot about him, or they were moving him, but Cal didn’t sense any vibrations through the metal that would betray being loaded on some kind of transport. The durasteel was still and unmovable. Yet he could not shake the thought that maybe he had been forgotten. Without water he was going to die in this tiny box. A rather unfitting end for his adventures so far, but maybe not so far off an ending for him, alone and scared and trapped.

“Hello?” called Cal. His voice was dry and cracked. “Hello?”

There was no response.

“Hey! I’m still in here, you know.”

With the lack of an answer it wasn’t hard to picture that his captor had simply decided he wasn’t worth the effort of selling to the highest bidder and was simply waiting for Cal to die in order to dispose of him. Probably decided it was less barbaric or something than just doing things the easy way and shooting Cal in his sleep. Cal would’ve preferred the blaster bolt, thank you very much.

He could feel himself starting to panic. Trying to squash the feeling down, Cal tried to think of what he could do that he hadn’t tried yet and the answer was simple. Trust in the Force. So he stood in front of a wall and put his hand on the cold metal. He took a deep breath in, and as he exhaled he pushed with the Force. Still the wall remained still and unmovable. There must have been something on the other side of the walls or they were thicker than anticipated. He tried again, with a little more Force. Nothing budged.

“Hey! Come on, let me out!” yelled Cal.

Not waiting for an answer he threw a punch at the wall, putting as much of the Force behind it as he could. The durasteel groaned, but didn’t give. With a wordless scream of rage he threw his whole body at the wall shoulder first. His shoulder crunched against the wall and gave an awful wet, popping noise. Biting back a scream Cal slumped down to his knee with his hand clutching his shoulder. Under his fingertips he could tell that it was dislocated, and though Cal had grown up in a scrapyard full of stupid injuries, he didn’t know how to fix his own shoulder.

Five thousand, seven hundred and eighty-four minutes, and at last Cal broke.

A sob built in his chest as hot tears stung at his eyes. He didn’t want to die here. He wanted his friends, his family really. He wanted to listen to Greez ramble about his latest recipe, he wanted to watch as Merrin discovered the secrets of a new planet, he wanted Cere to stay up with him in the middle of the night and tell him about the Jedi, and he wanted to keep on adventuring with BD-1. Yet here he was. Trapped and alone and hurt.

Beneath his fingertips Cal could feel the bone of his shoulder and the awkward angle it sat at. Already his hand was starting to tingle with oncoming numbness. His head still pounded from its meeting with the wall as well. He must look a mess. There was dried, tacky blood in his hair and his hand was purpling across the knuckles where he’d punched the wall. He couldn’t quite see what sort of strange silhouette he made with his dislocated shoulder but he was sure it wasn’t good. He choked a breath down around his sobs. Crying wasn’t going to do him any good. It wasn’t going to magically fix his arm or summon Cere with a medkit in hand. It didn’t do him much good. The deep breaths failed to work. Apparently his body needed to cry itself out, and he was going to let it.

-

Seven thousand, two hundred minutes. Cal had never actually counted this high ever. He’d never had seven thousand credits to his name to count with, and that was the only thing people regularly had that amount of anything in. He idly tapped a finger on his good hand on the ground in one second intervals. There wasn’t much else he could do. His arm was so numb he hadn’t been able to lift it for hours, and his mouth was so dry he swore Jawas were about to move in.

He was going to die here. Somewhere in the last few hundred minutes Cal had calmly accepted that fact. He shouldn’t, but there was no hope of him escaping on his own, especially now with only one good arm and having no food or water in days. He was too weak to do much more than shift a little when his legs started to fall asleep. When he did go, he hoped it wouldn’t be Cere and the others who found him, if anybody ever did. It wouldn’t be pleasant. He’d probably become some kind of misshapen, desiccated, mummy-like body. Definitely not the end Cal had ever envisioned for himself. Most of the time he pictured long uninterrupted falls or scrapping machinery. But he could feel himself getting heavy, like his body was weighed down by stones. For a moment he thought about fighting it, but really, what was the point. Nothing he did would change anything except make him suffer a little longer. He’d had a good run. Six years longer than he thought he’d have after the Purge. He’d even found a family and a home on a luxury yacht, and that wasn’t too bad for a scrapper nobody. No, it was okay. He had done enough.

-

Seven thousand, nine hundred and twenty minutes later, a small hatch in the ceiling dropped open.

[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.

[spicywhumper]

@febuwhump 2024: day 16. came back wrong + @femslash-february bingo: hell

series: crimson history // rating: mature // word count: 1,990

cw: mentioned child abuse & non-con, minor sisters stepcest, kinda r*pe recovery

Prodigy

She was six when the training started, looking older for her age or not, Jessica was a child when Joan has marked her as the next War Dog; Jennifer was still her stepsister, Jocelyn was still her mom, and Joan’s already her Master.

Speed

She’s a fast learner, as you’d expect from a prodigy, from the one meant to be the most powerful wizard of her generation; a shame she doesn’t learn fast enough to avoid punishment.

First 

There are many firsts in the life of a girl, even one that has had her childhood taken away from her before she knew she was a person of her own; too many firsts are Joan’s: spell, punch, sparring session, kiss, and time.

Cold

Sometimes she lays on her bed, alone and in the dark, and hates that she feels cold when nobody’s holding the leash on her invisible collar.

Betrayal

When she was born, Jennifer had carved a promise in the fabric of the universe, I’ll keep you safe, and Jessica never quite cared that she failed at it for sixteen years; then Joan whispers on her ear, hands bruising her hips like she loved to do, that it’s Jennifer who told the Coven how where she was.

Bitter

Sometimes Jessica isn’t sure how the fuck her mom has fallen in love with someone that has a mouth full of poison.

Freedom

She frowns at the way Head Magician Cornwell (this is not a cove, kid, my title is professor) doesn’t set curfews of 7pm and doesn’t punish who is late for dinner, Sub-Head Magician Greenwood (uh, call me Peyton, kid) looks at her with a frown every time she looks confused: “it’s a little bit of freedom, this is a school, not a prison.”

Tiles

White is covered with blood mixed with soap, Jennifer looks tired, worried, and she doesn’t seem happy that Jessica’s already out of her bed.

Play

They call the vigilante “straightjacket psycho” – it’s not too accurate, Scarlet’s more a “straightjacket dog that doesn’t know what to do with Its teeth”; Scarlet’s more “a predator that must play with foot not that Its free”.

Suicide

She’s twelve when she seriously consider It for the first time, the day after Joan summoned her to her private quarters and told her to strip naked; she stayed there for forty minutes, just being looked at her, and thought if she should leave and find the handgun she knows Mom keeps around.

War

Jennifer’s envious of her, she knows, and doesn’t care too much, children shouldn’t go to war; (you’re a child too, the devil in her head says, I’m a weapon.)

Sky

The sky’s a beautiful blue when Mom dies, when Jessica decides that maybe she should teach Joan that you’re not supposed to tame an evil that has taken home inside a child.

Belly

The first carved rune she puts on herself after running away is on her lower belly, women has always found ways to not carry spawn of monters; Joan whips her back until she passes out of blood loss, but doesn’t dare corrupting a ten year-old spell.

Smoke

Peyton gave her a cigarette, offered with a smirk; after Peyton died, she uses all of the girl’s last open packet to burn little circles on her thighs and says that the smoke is what makes her tear up.

Wash

The Dog can’t wash Itself, so Joan throws buckets of ice cold water at It; Jessica scrubs her skin until it’s red, inflamed, but Joan’s touches are still there, they’ll always be there.

Blanket

She had a dream, once, about her and Jennifer and a happy family; she wrapped herself in the blanket, thin and old, because Jennifer’s the reason she’s back in hell. 

Stain

Joan’s invites a friend sometimes, she doesn’t know this strange woman’s name, but she knows the stains she leaves on her soul.

Name

She changes name again, again and again; settles for Scarlet, like the blood she reaps from people that are a little too much like her mother.

Red

The first time Patricia spells a diagnostic spell on her, Jessica’s surprised that her corporeal is a soft shade of blue; but she’s not surprised by the solid ball of red on her abdomen, even if Patricia makes the same pitying face Rachel made not even a year ago. 

Rage

There’s an inferno of hatred under her skin, she wishes it’d burn the ropes keeping her in place as Joan lists everything she has been thinking about doing to her in the last ten years.

Bite

There’s only one time that Joan tries to bring a male friend, he does look less enthusiastic than her lady friends when the Dog kneels in front of him; cuts and cuts down Its back to learn It can’t bite and spit out flesh.

Thunder

Jessica was scared of storms, of thunder when she was small, when she was Jocelyn’s daughter enough to be comforted by her; loud noises startle her still, Caroline frowns at her with how Scarlet always puts earphones with the loudest possible music as soon as it starts raining.

Water

Blood runs thicker than water never made sense until she heard the full saying, it rings true in her head when she sits alone with Patricia and realizes that this safety, this warmth, is what she’s supposed to feel around a motherly figure.

Empty

It’s not an odd thing, deep down, when she looks in a mirror and dead eyes stare her back; there’s nothing new about how she’s an empty shell.

Battle

The battle isn’t even a true battle, it’s a bloodshed; a weapon of mass destruction leaves a trail of blood, entrails and deserved death behind It – and It does twice, the thrice worse the second time.

Lay

She lays on the snow, shivering and breathing puffs of white air, half-naked, covered in bruises and wounds; she lets her brain idle, but not even the Dog has the energy to move.

Fear

Agent Fletcher has hunted her for months, has spent almost two years under her care, had accepted the memory spell, and never was scared of her; the Dog’s confused why there’s fear in her eyes now.

Leg

The first time she tries to have sex after Hell 2.0, legs around Caroline’s hips and pulling her closer, there’s a moment where it’s not her “friend” she sees; Patricia says it’s normal, and Caroline seems about to throw up.

Morality

There are books on morality, on ethics, in the library; she doesn’t read them, she doesn’t need them to know that everything about her is utterly immoral.

Knife

The Dog doesn’t feel anything, the Dog wants to feel something,  the blade cuts through It hand like butter and the pretty girl next to It screams (the girl in the back of Its mind hums in appreciation for the hurt.)

Castle

Jocelyn had taken her and Jennifer to a beach once, it’s a haze memory, she was barely a toddler helping her sister build a sand castle; when she lays on her bed, late at night, she wonders about the children she never had (never wanted to) and if she’d love them enough to take them castle-building in the breath.

Torture

They thought they knew horror, knew pain, with the torture Scarlet gave them; rumors spread quickly that this new version paints all the walls with their blood, leave them alive, but just a squirming torso without ears and eyes.

Horns

Her spiritual form has horns and a tail, somehow Caroline gets away with making fun of her (“somehow”, stop lying, you love her).

Beg

She’s not ready to see the way Jennifer falls on her knees and apologizes, her eyes begging to be believed, she didn’t know; and Jessica doesn’t put it above Joan to manipulate blood of her blood to believe Jessica’s the villain here.

Darkness

She’s unfairly comfortable, as if she’s a child who has the right to be on the lap of their mother, seeking this safety with Patricia: “I hate it, all this darkness inside me,” she whispers, Patricia just hold her closer, Patricia just whispers like a mantra, and I love you anyway. 

Shiny

Caroline’s eyes are shiny with tears, but she still brings the Dog closer, holding It blood-covered hand, she still helps It to clean up and takes It to bed; she sees a feral animal and doesn’t sacrifice It.

Mirror

Jessica learned, pretty quickly, that Joan likes when she has reactions; she wants to hit the mirror with her head, she doesn’t, she just let Joan watch her face as she’s taken like the whore the woman wants her to be tonight.

Freak

“So… you and Jennifer?” Caroline asks, her hand feels nice playing with her hair, “yeah, two coven freaks,” – two coven freaks that only found safety in each other, Caroline only hums and accepts as if that’s the most normal thing in the world.

Spite

The way she spreads Joan’s remains across the compound is out of spite, it’s almost petty, she leaves pieces of flesh and skin in every single place where Joan raped her; there’s almost not enough of the Head Magician for that.

Patchwork

Scarlet’s not ashamed of her scars, she’s ashamed of where most of them comes from; Jennifer takes a sharp breath when she sees her shirtless for the first time, it takes a second to notice she’s looking at the Carved Rune close to her waistband – she doesn’t even try to look annoyed when Jennifer steals her from Caroline for cuddles for the next week.

Clean

Patricia wraps her arms with clean bandages, covered in her own blood; she woke up with the ghost feelings of Joan’s hands holding her arms back and- “hey, hey,” she says gently, “stay with me, dear, you’re free now, you’re clean now.”

Collect

Apparently Scarlet collect hearts like they’re nice, neat action figures.

Laugh

Scarlet likes the way they laugh, Jennifer’s quiet like her, Caroline’s soft like mom was, and Patricia loud and taking up space; Scarlet likes it, she likes that they make her laugh too.

Forehead

Mom used to give her forehead kisses when she tucked her in bed, she pretends she doesn’t cry in some sort of relief and grief the first times Patricia did the same.

Memory

Sometimes, more often than she’ll admit, she’s seeing a memory in front of her and not Joan; Jennifer looks more heartbroken that there’s a reason for it to happen than because for a second, Scarlet sees her abuser in her.

Safe

Somehow, there’s nothing but understanding in both of them when Scarlet comes home smelling like sex; somehow they understand that she feels safe when she gets to kill who she feeds of.

Dimple

Scarlet’s sure Jennifer feels more than “friendly stuff because she cares about you” towards Caroline when she reached and poked one of her dimples; being a goner for dimples might be a family thing.

Liquor

She hates the taste of it – Joan grabbed her jaw and forced cheap tequila down her throat so she would take whatever Joan wanted her to now that she can’t switch easily, –and Jennifer apologizes when Scarlet gets a blank look on her eyes from a tequila-tasting kiss.

Pile

Part of Scarlet doesn’t really understand why Caroline and Jennifer like to pile on her for cuddles at every opportunity, she sees Patricia snickering (it hurts that there’s one person missing in her life, but it feels like who’s there tries to keep her warm enough so she can keep going). 

Complex

It’s a complex thing, Scarlet thing, with the biting, raging Dog that needs to be out from time to time; but maybe she’s not too complex to be loved by Patricia and Caroline and Jennifer (to be forgiven for not unlearning the habits carved into her bones).

[occasionallyprosie]

Frayed Edges

Alt Ending: Resewn

ORIGINAL FIC: AO3 / Tumblr

OG: The battle’s over. The Shadow is defeated and the Triforce of Power retrieved… so why is the chain still here? Why haven’t they gone home? It’s not like the Shadow has been the one that’s been making the portals the whole time… it’s not like they’re in an unknown Hyrule with no way home.

Alt: But what if Legend didn't choose that path? What if Wind woke up the night he left, forcing Legend to stay just a little longer? What if Sky had a nightmare the next time Legend almost left, also leading Legend to stay just a little longer? What if there were a thousand little longer's?

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 22: "You weren't supposed to be there."

Read On AO3 Warnings: Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts ----

Legend sat in the window, thoughts quietly swirling around his head. He wondered if his only option was to pin them all against a cause, become find a power for them to rally against.

The bounties worked, sending the three knights on trips had them closer than usual, but he couldn't risk sending Sky and Wars on them together anymore for how violent they've both become. But he couldn't do the others, they were too risky to send as well. Time and Twilight outright refused while Hyrule, Wind, Wild, and even Four to some extent though he still sent Four to accompany Sky or Warriors, they all were dangers unto themselves. Legend didn't want to take his eyes too far off them.

Legend sat in the window, Wind and Twilight dead asleep inside and the world awake outside. Stars gleaming and the moon shining.

He had a chance here. Something that could work.

He could be the problem, he could focus on his magic, become a proper mage and being the other heroes' (because they were heroes and at the first sign of danger they'd help, even now) opponent. Have them come back together with something to fight, then reveal his true stance at the end, make them realize more clearly that, hey, these are your brothers and half of them are suicidal while the other half borderline or outright suicide-baits them.

"Hnnn... Vet?"

Legend looked over, his face softening as Wind sat up.

"What are you doing up?"

"Just thinkin' sailor," Legend assured him, sliding out of the window and walking over to his bed. "What woke you up? Cause it wasn't me."

Wind huffed, pulling his legs up to his chest and making room for Legend to sit on the end of his bed. In the darkness, Legend could still make out how the younger hero's face contorted thoughtfully.

"You turn sixteen in a couple months, right?" Legend decided to prompt, the past two years and each birthday for all of the younger heroes had been lackluster, he hadn't tried to throw any kind of party but he did go out of his way to make sure they had at least one good present, the dinner they wanted, and cake if not a cupcake.

Wind nodded. "Yeah--Veteran, why does everyone--why do they all hate each other? Why are they constantly fighting?"

Legend laughed, he couldn't stop himself or anything, it just escaped him and a mildly hysterical laugh fell from his lips. "Oh," he chuckled, tilting his head to the ceiling for a brief moment before meeting Wind's eyes, "sailor, I've been asking myself that for over two years now."

He wanted to know what changed. He wanted to know why Time would so horribly tear apart all three both of his successors. He wanted to know why Twilight would snap at Wild and yell at Four. He wanted to know why Sky and Warriors acted more and more like the knights of his first adventure. He wanted to know why Four was just as bad as Sky and Warriors one day, as harsh as Time the next day, but also as despondent as Hyrule the next; of course he knew how, four people processing grief in the same body would result in that, but why did they react like that? He just wanted to know why none of them were themselves.

He wanted to know why he felt like his only option was to go nuclear? Why did he feel like everything around him, this little life he's made out of shear will, was only held together by a single thread and he was that thread, desperately trying to make more?

"Vet," Legend pulled himself from his spiraling thoughts and noticed Twilight had turned over in his bed, brows furrowed and clearly a bit asleep though he was awake, "what's wrong wit' you?"

Legend snorted. "I'm fine, Rancher. Go back to sleep."

Wind frowned.

"You too, sailor," Legend chided. He went and closed the window before he moved to his bed. "It's late and someone needs to be up to take care of the animals in the morning."

Little did any of the three know that the fact that Wind woke up at that particular moment, and that he verbally revealed to Legend that he had noticed the changes in the group since the quest, would have a rather large impact on their veteran's decisions.

At the very least, he didn't leave that night.

Legend inhaled slowly as he heard Warriors screaming at Twilight and the Rancher giving as good as he got.

Just split them up, you've done it a thousand times before. Yeah, a thousand times too many.

"Veteran?" Wind was beside him, having gone with him to town.

"Sorry, take these to the shed, I should go break that up."

Wind frowned but didn't argue as Legend dragged himself into the house. Warriors and Twilight were screaming at each other about something stupid with the barn Legend had asked them to start on, but Hyrule was right there and his eyes were too dead.

Something in him snapped.

"Why?" He asked, forcing his voice not to snap as badly as his temper, forcing his expression to mellow in exasperation and not screw up in fury.

Neither of them blinked, continuing to argue. They hadn't even noticed him speak.

"Just acknowledge the people around you, it's that simple," he muttered. He grabbed a wooden bowl normally filled with fruit --he and Wind had bought some fresh ones to refill it with-- and threw it at them.

The sound of it hitting Warriors' face was so worth it. Maybe Legend needed to go on a bounty mission except no, he couldn't, because he couldn't leave these idiots alone for a day before they were at each other's or their own throats.

"Go," he ordered before either could explode on him. "Just--Get the hell out of the house."

"I am tired of you acting like you’re the boss!" Warriors snarled. "I'm tired of you acting like everything is okay!"

"Yeah well so am I!" Legend retorted, fuse cut short and burnt. "I'm tired of having to break apart another stupid, useless, dumb fight every day!"

"Yea' well, if some people wou'da jus' use the brain they were given," Twilight growled with a sharp glare at Warriors.

"Maybe you should use yours and get out."

"There it is again--"

Legend pushed past them to drop down on his knees in front of Hyrule.

"Rulie, look at me. Stay here, please?"

"Why?" Asked the traveler who hadn't left their little home since the beginning. Warriors scoffed and made to make some comment, but Twilight grabbed his arm and forced him out of the house while Legend responded.

"I know you want to leave, but please, stay with me," Legend encouraged softly.

"They hate each other," Hyrule whined.

"They don’t, they're just hurting. It's going to be okay, I promise. I'll make sure of it."

Hyrule just shook his head, quietly disagreeing.

Not for the first time lately, Legend silently agreed with the younger hero in front of him.

The world outside had always looked enticing. Legend couldn't remember the last time he actually went and explored, it might've been during the quest but he was also supposed to be one of the responsible ones, so he's pretty sure he stuck to paths then. Maybe it had been Lorule... maybe it had been Hyrule between adventures. He couldn't remember and he just wanted to go.

Of course, that wasn't happening. He had a job to do and it was holding this mess of what used to be a family together.

He could just leave, they wouldn't notice at first and he could go take the Triforce of Power. Hyrule would notice that and then he'd burn down a village or create some magic golems and attack one. It would be hard to fabricate the danger, he didn't want to hurt anyone, but he needed to make them think he was a threat.

He was about to put his hat on and climb out the window when he heard someone scream.

He burst into the next room and was beside Sky's bed before Time or Four could get out of their beds. He caught Sky's hands and hummed, gently coaxing him into releasing his grip on his hair and the pressure of his nails digging into his skull.

"Hey, Link, you’re safe," he murmured along with various other platitudes and grounding phrases.

Sky sobbed, curling in on himself, whispering about it being all his fault.

A few heads poked in, but quickly left.

After Sky finally fell asleep, Legend stayed another hour before he went back to bed himself. He was thankful that the group hadn't completely fallen and used their nightmares against each other.

Legend stared at the lightened but not yet dawn-lit sky out their window.

Goddesses, he was tired.

"You know, these cakes are the only thing anyone does for our birthdays," Wild said as Legend tried to ice the cake with a goat butter buttermilk icing. His grandmother taught him to make buttermilk and buttermilk icing, but that had been with cow milk. He figured it was close enough and it seemed to be fine...

"Sorry it's not more," Legend said. "I'd prefer to do more, especially for yours and the Traveler's twentieths, the Smithy's eighteenth, and the Sailor's sixteenth."

"No, it's--it's nice," Wild admitted, he glanced out the window. "It's not like anyone else does anything."

Legend hummed. "Don’t be too harsh on them," he reminded the younger hero. "They're working through things, same as you."

"You’re not."

"Ah," he shot him a smirk, "I'm too busy working through your guys' problems to deal with my own."

Wild snorted. Legend grinned when he heard it, Wild had been getting more expressive in recent days, but that also had him being much more sorrowful, which was why Legend was even more careful with his younger brother. But these moments, when Wild was almost himself, Legend could fall back three years and pretend that he wasn't holding on by a thread.

"Yeah right," Wild chuckled. "I forgot you’re the new mom in the te--group."

Not much of a team anymore, Legend agreed. "I'm pretty sure that you are the last one who can say anything about mothers."

That got a proper laugh out of the Champion.

"Fair enough. Hey do I need to go get the Sailor?"

"If you want. I can get him myself."

"Eh, I'll see if anyone else wants to sing with us."

Legend smiled as Wild wandered off, setting the finished cake on the table. Past years and attempted events like this have always failed, holidays ignored because of old memories, birthdays ignored because of high tensions between each other, the best one thus far was Hyrule's twentieth two months ago when Legend had mentioned what day it was to Wind who spread it to Wild and Sky, and the four of them had somewhat celebrated with Hyrule, but it was the same as whatever may happen now with Wind.

He finished the cake well enough when Wild came back with Wind, Sky, Hyrule, and most surprisingly Twilight.

Legend placed the last candle in the cake, the sixteenth, and he hesitated.

"Traveler, think you can light these?"

Hyrule startled, then he nodded and a moment later fire magic spilled from his fingers and the candles were lit... and the buttercream was slightly golden but it looked good.

"Nice job!" Wind nudged him.

"It's not that cool," he muttered, tugging on the thick sleeves of the goat wool coat Wind made him.

"Didn't you say that precision with destructive magic like that is actually pretty complex?" Wind challenged. "Pretty cool."

Legend smiled softly.

"Thanks... Happy birthday, Sailor."

Wind looked over at the cake now, something sad in his eyes. "Thank you."

"Make a wish," Legend encouraged. He knew it was childish, they all did, but nobody said anything (Time and Warriors both would've made a scathing comment, Legend was certain of that. Four might've, depending on his mood).

Wind closed his eyes, then he blew the candles out.

I wish we could all go home.

The same wish he made both of his previous birthdays. Childish though it may be, he had to at least try.

Wind cut the cake and managed to get everyone to take a slice. There was just enough for him to divide the remainder into three decent slices and he plated all of them.

"Here," Legend murmured as he appeared beside him, he picked up two of the plates. "Go ahead, I'll carry these behind you."

Wind nodded. He took the third plate and headed toward the forge, knowing Four had gone straight there after a dinner he'd been practically forced to eat.

He kicked lightly on a table, Legend remaining outside and unseen.

Four looked up with a glare. "Go away, Sailor."

"I brought cake," he said softly. "It's just strawberry, the vet still can't find a merchant with vanilla, but it's pretty good this time."

"We don't want it."

Wind inhaled carefully. He was realizing rapidly how awful things here were, how bad of condition everyone was in. A nightmare of them killing each other had hit him a while back and since then he couldn't help but see it slowly becoming reality.

He tried since then. He was trying. Be more patient, be more present, don’t let Legend keep worrying about him and being too close to heights.

"Alright," he conceded but set the cake to the side. "It's right here. I think they added honey to it, it's really sweet..." he hesitated and Four was clearly ignoring him.

His eyes changed colors, always had, but it was obvious especially now.

Wind smiled. "Later then."

He exited and Legend stepped away from a fence he was sitting on while he waited, a distance away and out of earshot.

"Thanks," he chirped as he took one of the plates. "I think the captain's over that way."

The veteran smiled. "Yeah, he mentioned checking the perimeter this morning and knowing him he hasn't come back."

Wind nodded. He gathered his courage once he spotted the gleaming pauldron the war captain wore.

"Wait here?" Legend nodded when he made the request. Wind walked toward Warriors, who saw him approaching and glanced behind him at Legend's fading form.

Wind held out the plate and cake. "I brought you a slice."

Warriors gave him an annoyed look. "Go back inside kid."

Wind clenched his jaw, back teeth grinding. "I'm not a kid."

"Yeah, you--"

"I'm sixteen. You said once I hit majority then I wasn't a kid. Because for some reason maturity and experience meant nothing to you."

He saw Warriors freeze, then he rolled his eyes, that defensive flame burning clearly.

"Fine. Go away, Sailor."

Wind tightened his grip on the plate, the cake shaking slightly from how tight he held it.

"Alright," he agreed, smiling best he could. "I'll put it on the counter for you."

Warriors stared at him for a long moment before he scoffed lowly and marched off.

Wind swallowed the lump in his throat. He still remembered his twelfth birthday, the one he celebrated during the War of Eras... when the Captain had put him on his shoulders and paraded him around their camp, when Mask had played his ocarina during the birthday song, when Ravio gave him a pair of hover boots, when Marin helped the cooks make some proper island food... That had been a great birthday, only could have been better if his grandma and Aryll had been there. But if Wind had told himself, had told Tune, that in four years Mask and the Captain would hate him and tell him he should actually take that too-tempting leap...

Tune would've killed him on the spot for badmouthing his brothers. Wind wished he still held such trust in them, but at this point, it was only faith and hope that had him clinging to the idea that one day Time and Warriors would be themselves again.

He headed back to Legend and went to track down Time.

Their eldest was in Hyrule's fairy and bee garden.

"Hey, old man?" Wind called, Legend hidden a distance back and out of earshot. "We made cake and I brought you some."

The glare shot at him sent a pang through his chest.

"I'm fine."

Wind took a careful breath as he dared draw closer. He had to try. "You sure? It's strawberry and I think they used--"

"I said I'm fine." The snap was sharp enough to cut him. It was harsh and Wind flinched back. "Gods. Why won't you just leave me alone? Leave us all alone? You're so clingy and pushy. I'm tired of it."

Wind swallowed hard. He shakily placed the cake on the fence. "S-Sorry--"

"And you think apologies mean anything. Apologies mean shit if you don't actually do something about it. For once just do us all a favor and go away."

Wind flinched back, Time hadn't even so much as looked back at him. He clenched his jaw tightly, trying to hide how it trembled. He left the plate on the fence post and walked away.

Oceans, the roof was looking tempting again.

Legend was waiting, he raised an eyebrow and Wind just shook his head.

"It's alright, Sailor," he murmured softly. "They'll come back around eventually."

He wanted to cry. He was sixteen now damnit, he wasn't allowed to cry anymore, but goddesses did he want to.

"I know," he whispered, voice strained. "I know."

Legend squeezed his shoulder and walked with him back inside.

Why couldn't they just get along?

Legend needed to calm down. He needed to step away and just... just--

He left the property and just walked until he deemed himself far enough away.

Time had gotten into another argument with Twilight, he'd called the rancher names, Twilight threw a few of his own back, and before Legend could intervene Wind had done it.

Sweet, clinging Wind who was the only one Legend trusted these days with an ounce of his sanity. The child had jumped between them and told them to cut it out--and they both directed their fury onto the teenager.

Wind maintained composure and Legend got there to help finish splitting them up, a screaming match going off. Then Wind muttered an apology to Legend before locking himself in their closet. He promised he would stay, but then wouldn't say another word to the veteran.

Then Legend caught Four reaching his hand into the forge's fire. He had barely ran over to prevent total nerve damage, heal and wrap it, and comfort the promptly sobbing teen who said he just wanted to go home.

Once he took Four to his room to rest and heal, he then found Warriors and Hyrule fighting, which was a new occurrence, and it was bad.

It felt like everything that could go wrong, did go wrong today.

He just needed a minute.

So, in the middle of the woods, far from anyone, Legend looked up at the sky.

"What did I do wrong?" He asked the sky, the goddesses. "Did I miss something? Was there a dungeon we were supposed to do, an item we're meant to find here? I get it, if this is how it is, fine. Okay. But--"

He laughed, it was a bit hysterical, a bit pained, a bit unstable.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING WRONG!" He screamed, voice breaking and he dug his nails into his skull. "I'M TRYING! I AM TRYING SO HARD TO KEEP US TOGETHER AND--"

He just screamed. He screamed his voice hoarse as his legs gave out and he finally felt tears slip down his face.

"I don’t know what I did wrong," he sobbed. "I did the work. I protected your bloodlines, your oracles, your triforce. I saved the world time and time again, I restored light to a darkened realm, I returned displaced people to their own worlds, I calmed the seas when I woke the Wind Fish--I served you. And I did it obediently; happily and willingly and promptly."

He let out a pained laugh, a pained sob.

"So why can't--I've done it right half a dozen times so why can't I FIX THIS ONE?!" He shut his eyes. "WHY--" his voice broke again. "Why," he repeated, voice trembling, "can't I just fix this one? Why can't I help them be happy? Why can't I just--Why am I the only one who actually cares?! Why is this stupid, soft, bleeding heart still caring?! Why can't it just stop. Why can't I just stop and just leave? I can't..."

He choked, hands covering his mouth as he finally broke. That final thread finally snapped.

"I can't... I can't watch them get themselves killed, kill themselves or each other, but I can't stay anymore without killing myself. I can't though. I can't do that because I have to help them. I have to make them see each other again. I have responsibilities and it's killing me."

He dropped his head completely, forehead to the ground in something of a bow as he hugged himself tightly.

"I JUST--" he sobbed. "I just want them to be happy! So why--why..." he trailed out, choking on three years suppressed emotions, "why does it feel like it'll cost me my life?

"V-Vet?"

His blood ran cold.

Legend jerked himself up and around. Sky was standing there with one of his cucoos... one of the ones that run away all the time.

He jerked his sleeve over his face. "Goddess--Sky, I--Sorry--I'm just--You weren't meant to hear that--I mean--"

Sky released the cucoo and dropped in front of him, knees touching his own and hands flying up. "Whoa, hey, breathe."

Legend inhaled sharply, Sky's hands cupping his face and brushing away his tears.

"It's okay," he promised softly. "Oh, goddesses Vet..."

He couldn't stop crying. He couldn't stop crying and sucking in large, shallow breaths only to expel it in an instant. He couldn't breathe.

"How long have you been holding onto this?" Sky whispered, carding a hand through his hair gently while taking his hand and pressing it to his own chest, his eyes filled with surprise, concern, and most of all, realization. "You've been playing peacekeeper forever now... and to no reward or renown or anything. Oh goddess, I am so sorry."

"I'm sorry, I can't--" he sucked in another gasp, trying to mimic Sky's breathing but it wasn't working, "I can't--I just want it--I can't anymore--Sky, please."

"It's okay. It's going to be okay." Sky soothed, pulling him into his chest. "We'll figure it out. You know..." he trailed off a bit, as if coming to another realization, "Wind's been trying to play peacekeeper too, and I--I'll help. I'll try. I know I've been short fused, I know, but I'll do better I swear. We can fix this."

"I can't," Legend all but whimpered those words. "I just--I'm so tired. I can't fix this. I've been trying, I have, I promise I have. I have been trying so hard for so long, I can't do this."

Sky shushed him softly. "I know--You've done so well." He pulled away, cradling Legend's face and he was gentle and warm and kind.

Legend wanted to melt, he wanted to hold onto this feeling forever. Even if his skin felt on fire and his brain was frigid, even if everything was awful and he couldn't breathe, Sky was being Sky. He was being patient, he was being calm and kind, he was being so stupidly kind and gentle and everything he hadn't been for three years.

"You have done amazing," Sky told him so softly. "We haven't made it easy for you and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for that. But I'll do better, I swear. You aren't--You aren't alone."

Tears welled up again and Legend slumped into Sky's chest. He choked out stuttering, shuddering breaths, whispering a quiet, "Please, I can't do it anymore."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," Sky murmured in response, hugging him tightly. "But we'll figure it out. I'm so sorry."

[triforce-of-mischief]

Febuwhump Day 11 (Alt 8): Killing Game

Warnings: mentions of panic, possible mcd in the future

Rabbit (ALTTP) and Four (FSA) are from @thatbrokenpromise by @batrogers

****

Rabbit had never stepped foot inside the Palace of the Four Sword. He hadn’t needed to before he defeated Ganon, and another boss rush had never sounded enticing enough to find out what the prize at the end was. Not that any of that mattered, now that Rabbit had found himself trapped in this hellhole anyway.

He came to the conclusion that somebody, somewhere, just wanted to watch him suffer. Villain or goddess, he didn’t care because he was a bit preoccupied with not dying. His only solace was that the others couldn’t be too far, otherwise the world would have cracked around him long before now.

“Are you happy?!” Rabbit yelled to the invisible nobody, shivering as the adrenaline came down after a hard-fought encounter with Blind. The thief had been stronger than when Rabbit had fought him at sixteen, and the hero had started weak with the shock of seeing Blind disguised as his uncle before making its attack. Stabbing Blind’s face instead of his uncle’s kept him from a full panic, but it was close. Too close.

There was nowhere to go but forward, so on Rabbit went to the next room.

No monster waited for him here. Rabbit gripped his shield, peering cautiously at the ceiling. Nothing; he looked down instead, nearly tripping on the tiles in shock and horror.

In each corner of the room, a sword was engraved in the floor. They pulsed gently for a few moments, lighting the area in green, red, blue, and violet. Rabbit had never seen the sword that the pictures resembled, but he had heard descriptions of the long-relinquished weapon of one of his most recent companions.

Of course. This was the Palace of the Four Sword, after all.

“Please no,” Rabbit whispered.

This couldn’t be-

An enemy finally materialized, landing on one of the far corners with a downward thrust of its sword. It straightened and stared Rabbit down, advancing as Rabbit matched by stumbling backward.

The enemy was the spitting image of Green. His skin was a few shades too pale and his eyes glinted red without a hint of recognition, but Rabbit didn’t doubt that he was one of Four.

Green raised his sword, and Rabbit prepared to parry with his own.

He couldn’t kill Green- kill Four- kill his friend.

He had to, or they would kill him.

He couldn’t.

He had to.

He-

[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!

[fanfictasia]

Febuwhump Day 16

Semi-Conscious 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from The Chosen Twins

Anakin Skywalker

Predictably, it’s not until after he does more – I don’t know how far it is, but since I can feel the throbbing when I’m awake traveling farther down my arm, he must be far – and when I’m half-unconscious that… something unexpected happens. Then gain everything for months now has been one unexpected after the next, so this isn’t far more major than most.

Aniya isn’t here right now; I’m not quite sure where she is, but not here, when I awaken to sensing someone else present. It’s the same blue Twi’lek that we had seen earlier that we couldn’t identify.

“I knew I would find you here,” he says, something… icy in his voice. I’ve seen that look on people, the way he doesn’t even attempt to conceal his rage or hatred, though for what, I don’t even know.

“Who are you?” I rasp faintly. Anyone else and might ask how long it’s been.

“That is of no concern to you, yet.”

I twist instinctive, jerking against my restraints – I couldn’t have been here for too long, considering I’m not terribly sore right now, though then again, I haven’t been here constantly. I don’t know why Plagueis leaves me here sometimes and not at others. But either way, I don’t appreciate the other’s closeness. At all.

“I’m not here for you,” he continues, “I have a message for your master, for Darth Sidious.”

Any other circumstances, and I’d have some very snippy commentary to throw back at him. Not now though. Instead, I only watch him warily.

“Tell him,” he continues, “That there’s nowhere he can escape from me. That there is nothing he can have that I won’t take from him, after he did the same to me.”

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 9: Wind & Chain - Bees

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: Determined to at least have a sip of alcohol after being told no, Wind sneaks a bottle of honey mead, not knowing that interior of the bottle was coated with raw honey. Wind knew he was allergic to bees, but not their honey... He should have listened.

CW: underaged drinking (a single glass), allergic reaction, closed airway

“Wind, put that down.” Time’s ‘Disapproving Dad’ voice was firm, face showing no give in what the youngest wanted to do.

Wind rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on! It’s one swig!”

“No.”

Grumbling, Wind sat the pint of ale that he had been eyeing all night. He sat down as if he was a sack of potatoes being dropped into the chair next to Legend. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving the best mean-mug pout he could give.

“Got caught?” Legend snickered.

“What do you think? I’m a pirate, we drink!”

Warriors leveled the kid with a look. “Does Tetra allow you to drink?” Wind lowered his head.

Twilight ruffled the sun bleached curls, asking, “Why do you wanna drink so bad anyway? There isn’t anything overly grand about it and getting drunk can get messy.”

The youngest looked around the room, everyone relaxed and laughing, enjoying the rare chance to do nothing. “I guess… I don’t know. I just want to, to say that I have. To be like you guys!”

Eight heads turned towards him.

“Like us?” Sky asked first. “You think all of us drink or have drank before?”

“Haven’t you?” Wind tilted his head curiously.

Sky softly smiled. “Skyloft has a strict tradition of the first time you drink any alcohol, it is on your wedding day. It is part of the ceremony. The groom holds the cup for the bride to drink from, then the bride holds it for the groom.” He looked a bit too dreamy while talking about it. He was probably imagining his and Sun’s wedding that was going to happen the next time they made it back to Skyloft.

“Drinking is a big thing in my era.” Wars leaned back some in his chair. “You drink when you eat, when you have friends or family over, during formal gatherings and galas. Gets rather bland after a while.”

Wild did his own head tilt, but it was very wolfie like. “I wonder if that’s how it was pre-Calamity. I had a memory of being at a royal event and trying not to laugh at the face Flora made when she would sip the wine.”

“Have you had any since you woke up?” Wind was now interested in the others' thoughts.

“Today was the first time.”

“Aaand?” Wind bounced slightly in his seat. Wild gave the most stoic face, shoving the drink in his hand into Twilight’s chest. That answer was clear.

Taking a large swig of the new pint, Twi gave the same gesture to Wild with his empty pint. “I was raised by Humans, not Hylians, so I have a higher drinking tolerance. Especially since our drinking age is sixteen. What about you, Old Man?”

“Never.” The uproar that followed his answer had Time laughing. “We don’t have true alcohol in my era, but I have been drunk on multiple occasions.”

Still laughing, Wind asks, “On what, then?”

“Milk.”

Silence…

“Cryptic bastard.” Legend mumbled. “Only the nobles can afford anything worth the damn. Besides, I’m not old enough. Unlike Twilight’s early start, our drinking age is twenty-one.”

“So Fable drinks?” Warriors smiled, knowing he was going to get under the Vet's skin. “I’m sure she’s fun to be around after a few drinks.”

“Warriors, stay clear of my sister.” Legend growled.

“Sister? Wait, Fable is your sister?!”

With the new information being loudly discussed, Four and Hyrule made their way to Wind’s side. Four nudged the younger’s arm. “Drinking won’t kill you unless you are being irresponsible with it.”

“That’s anything in life.” Hyrule added, still laughing at Wars and Legend. Both had landed on the ground in a friendly rough housing fight.

Well into the night, Wind couldn’t sleep. He was homesick and nothing he did was helping him to keep his eyes shut. The others were no help with hoe some of them snored so bad they could wake the dead. He counted Seagulls in his head, but that just made him miss home more. Giving up, he quietly grabbed an extra treat Wild left in the room. It was thick caramel covered apple slices with a drizzle of dark chocolate.

With a bit more of a full belly, Wind yawned, but his mouth was now lined with the thick caramel and it stuck to his teeth. Something to drink would do the trick!

Tip toeing back to his bag, he snagged his canteen. Only issue was that there was nothing inside. Sitting that back down he looked around. They hadn’t restocked on water, teas, milk or anything else that served as a hydrator. But they did have a few bottles of mead…

‘Just a sip to get my mouth cleared.’ He kept telling himself.

A bottle of Honey Mead and a small cup later, Wind darted to the bathroom that joined the two large rooms they had rented out for the night and locked the doors. Looking at the bottle, it had a big honey bee on it. He hated bees!

Biting his bottom lip, he uncorked the dark bottle, poured half a glass and smelt it. His nose wrinkled at it, but it still smelt sweet from the honey. He shrugged and had it down in one. It had a subtle burn, followed by the smooth sweet honey.

He should have read the back of the bottle. Yes, the initial drink was made with honey, burning away the properties that Wind was allergic to. On the back it said that extra honey was added after distilled.

The door knob from the opposite room jiggled. “One minute!” Wind loudly whispered.

He was about to be caught. He put the cork back in the bottle, rinsed the cup out and was about to rinse his mouth out when he felt it. It was getting harder to swallow, harder for air to be breathed. He looked into the mirror, seeing the signs of an allergic reaction: neck and face puffing, skin reddened and splotchy, hives forming on his cheeks. The panic set in quickly, knocking over the glass he drank out of and it shattered all across the floor.

“Wind, are you okay? What just broke?” It was Wild.

“W-Wi-” He couldn’t get the other’s name out. His eyes watered in fear as he reached the door, fumbling to unlock it. He swung it open and was met with a very worried Wild.

“Wind! Holy Hylia, what happened? Did you get stung by a bee?”

Wind wasn’t even going to ask how Wild knew of that allergy. He took Wild’s wrist and pulled him into the bathroom. He wheezed as he presented the bottle he had drank from.

“You drank this?” Wild spun the bottle around, looking for anything he needed to know. “Shit Wind! It has raw honey in it.”

‘Am I gonna die?!’ Wind asked in sign.

“Not on my watch. Sit down, I need my slate.” Wind was grateful for the urgency behind Wild’s movements and his stealth. Last thing Wind wanted was one clothes, Time specifically, to wake up and see what had happened.

Though it was only a few seconds, Wind could no longer get air in. When Wild arrived back at his side, he slipped off the seat of the toilet, crashing into Wild.

“Wind? Damn it!” A pink fairy was released from Wild’s slate and she fluttered above the two until she swirled between Wind’s face and chest. He took in small breaths, eyes still as wide as saucers looking up the other.

Wild pulled out a Hearty Potion as he situated Wind into a sitting position. “Drink.”

Wind shook his head no. ‘Not one of those. We haven’t restocked!’

Wild rolled his eyes, pulling out a Fairy Tonic instead. “Drink or I’m forcing it down your throat.”

Wind saw the fire in Wild’s eyes and didn't go against him. He took a few sips until his throat loosened enough that he could drink the whole thing. He gulped in air greedily, leaning heavier into Wild’s side.

“How did you know?” He softly asked.

“Know what?”

“That I am allergic to honey and to bees?”

“As the designated cook, I needed to know if I should avoid making certain things. Your Granny told me about your allergies and your dislike the first time I got to see your world.”

“Oh.”

They sat there letting Wind gain his composure again before they needed to go back to bed. When that time came and the glass was cleaned up, Wind grabbed hold of Wild’s hand, silently asking to not be left alone. How could the Champ say no? He couldn’t. And if anyone asked about why Wild and Wind were sharing a bed, the answer was that Wild had a nightmare.

~

“Who drank some of my mead?!” Warriors asked as they packed up the rooms.

“No one drank your nasty bottle of honey mead.” Legend waved a dismissive hand.

“Vet, did you drink it?”

“I just said it was nasty and you think I did it?”

“Yes!”

As the two bickered over who did or didn’t drink Warriors alcohol, Time stood next to Wind and asked in a softer tone, “Wind, did you have anything to do with this?”

Wind turned his eyes up towards the eldest all innocently, saying, “I’m allergic to honey.”

[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)

[jinxedruby]

Febuwhump Day Sixteen: Lightning Strike

Featuring Sky and everyone. Did an alternate prompt for this day.

Heads up for some major injury in this one.

AO3

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

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Sky’s foot slid along the ground as he dodged, leaving a gouge in the mud. He ducked under the stalfos’s swing, boots slipping as he scrambled to the side. Raindrops gathered in his eyelashes, the water blurring his vision before he blinked them away. He lunged forward, slashing at the stalfos but it leapt backwards with a cackle Sky could hardly hear over the torrential downpour. Lightning forked through the sky again, sending shadows scattering with a white flash. In the instant of light, Sky caught a glimpse of the others. Legend and Time fighting a couple moblins off to his right, Wild crouched atop a rock straight ahead with his bow drawn, and Wind battling more stalfos just beside the rock, keeping the monsters away from Wild. Sky didn’t have time to turn and look for the others, thunder cracking through the air and rumbling in his chest and the plains fell back into the darkness of the storm. Despite it being the middle of the day, the black thunderclouds almost entirely blotted out the sun. Between that and the rain, Sky could barely see ten feet in front of himself.

A blade streaked toward him and he ducked back, the tip of the sword slicing just before his face. Lightning split the clouds again, illuminating the three stalfos circling Sky. He grimaced, hunching low and trying to turn so he could keep an eye on all of them at once. Last he’d looked, there had only been two. He shoved off one foot to dart forward, his boot skidding back slightly and killing some of his momentum. The stalfos jumped to twice its height, Sky’s blade swinging harmlessly beneath it. Sky gritted his teeth and attacked again, swinging back the opposite direction with no rest. The stalfos landed just in time for the Master Sword to crack against its spine, fracturing the bone. Sky attacked again before it had any time to recover, hitting the same spot and shattering the vertebra. The stalfos collapsed with a yelp and Sky spun to face the next one. Another ear-splitting boom of thunder crashed through his chest. Because of it, he didn’t hear the stalfos behind him until the sword connected with his ribs.

He stumbled to the side, gasping, sucking in a mouthful of rainwater as he did. Hoping that his chainmail had done its job, he whipped around in a spin attack. The stalfos jumped over his sword but he sent a thrust into its skull the moment it landed. The bone cracked, the pinkish light died from the monster’s eye sockets. Sky yanked his sword free and dove to the side just in time to avoid an attack from behind. He tried to turn to face the stalfos, but his feet twisted in the mud and shot out from under him. He landed flat on his back, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Another flash of lightning lit up the stalfos as it stood over him, sword raised. He scrambled to get out of the way, mud slathering his arms and legs. He couldn’t move fast enough and the monster drove its sword through his left arm and into the ground.

A scream tore itself from his throat, warm blood soaking his arm and pouring to the ground. The stalfos cackled and stabbed its other sword down, directly for Sky’s head. Sky jerked to the side, searing pain exploding in his wound, and parried the blow with his sword, redirecting it to the ground above him. He sharply kicked the stalfos in the ribs before it could recover, knocking it to the ground beside him. With a shout, he twisted toward his left and brought his sword down onto the stalfos’s skull, smashing it. Sky rolled onto his back again, panting, coughing as raindrops fell into his throat. He turned his head to examine his arm. The stalfos’s sword still stood embedded in it, skewering his triceps just above his elbow. He tried gently to move his arm and choked back a scream as fiery pain flooded it. The sword sunk all the way through his arm and into the ground, effectively pinning him in place.

He let his head fall back against the ground, cold mud soaking into his hair. He drew in deep breaths through his nose, blew them out through his mouth. Lightning flashed again and he glanced around quick as he could, taking in everyone’s locations. The ones he could see were either too far, or had monsters between them and him. Every moment he lay there was another moment a monster could notice his plight and take advantage. He had to move.

Taking in a deep breath, he rolled onto his left side, doing his best to keep his arm still. He failed, hot fire erupting in his wound, but he made it onto his side. He set the Master Sword down to reach up and grasp the hilt of the weapon lodged in him. Just touching the sword caused his vision to white out and pulled a shout from between his teeth, but he managed to hold on. He thought he heard someone yell but the roar of the rain and howling of the wind drowned it out, making it hard to tell. Narrowing his eyes, he tightened his grip on the sword, the slightest jostle causing a flood of pain. Then, before he could think about it, he yanked the sword up, ripping it out of his arm. He screamed, dropping the sword and shoving his face into the mud. Pain screeched through his arm and he clutched at the grass with his right hand, curling his legs and waiting for it to subside, eyes screwed shut.

A roar had him jerking upwards. He looked up to see a moblin charging toward him, one that had apparently gotten past Legend and Time. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of the Master Sword, smearing mud on it. He struggled to his feet, dizzy as his left arm hung uselessly at his side. He ran out of the moblin’s way, narrowly dodging its onslaught. Pain stabbed through his arm with each step, tears fighting their way from his eyes. He turned to face the moblin, weakly lifted his sword. Another bolt of lightning flashed at the perfect time for him to see a flying lizalfos dive into Wild and send the champion flying off the rock.

“Cook!” Sky shouted into the storm, the pounding rain absorbing the noise. Darkness swallowed the land again and Sky stared at where he’d seen Wild, breathing hard. The moblin charged again, forcing him to dodge. Someone yelled, it may have been Wind, but the storm warbled the voice so much that Sky couldn’t really tell. The moblin stabbed at Sky with its spear. He skipped to the side, yelping as the movement jarred his arm. He could barely fight like this. He couldn’t tell what was happening to the others or if they were even okay. Blood and energy rapidly drained from him. This battle needed to end. Now.

Lightning slammed into the ground some distance away, close enough that the boom of thunder occurred simultaneously. Sky felt the vibrations from his feet to his teeth, horribly familiar. Familiar. His eyes widened. The moblin charged and he ran out of the way, going several steps farther than he needed to get some distance. His grip around the Master Sword tightened. He lifted it high as he backpedaled away from the moblin, tongue flitting across his lips. Fat drops of rain splattered against his hair, dripping onto his face. Then he felt it. The hair on his arms and neck prickling and rising as electricity swelled around him. He gritted his teeth, clutching the Master Sword so tightly that his arm shook.

Lightning split the sky in half and crashed through his sword. He screamed, stumbling, the blade absorbing the electricity and holding it, the leftover spilling through his arm and searing his skin. Then, with a roar, he slashed in the moblin’s direction. A huge disk of electricity and sacred power launched from the sword, ripping through the moblin. The disk continued on past the moblin, colliding with more monsters past it and felling them as well. Sky dragged in a breath and lifted his sword again, arm trembling. His hair stood and another bolt struck his sword, filling it up, frying his arm. He turned in the brief moment of light. The biggest horde of monsters surrounded Wind and Wild. Flashes of bright blue tunics shone through the crowd occasionally, the only indication that they were even there.

He took a deep breath and bellowed louder than he ever had. “GET DOWN!”

Wind shouted something in response that Sky couldn’t make out. But it was the only confirmation he was going to get. Praying Wind and Wild had understood him, he sliced horizontally, sending another disk of lightning hurtling toward the monsters. It collided with near explosive force, electricity arcing from the monsters it had struck and zapping others close by. It cascaded through the entire horde and Sky could only pray that Wind’s and Wild’s voices weren’t among the screeches he heard.

He tried lifting his sword again but his arm refused to cooperate, fingers twitching and elbow jerking as spasms wracked through his muscles. A harsh whine grew in his ears and staggered to one side, dragging in gasping breaths. Something moved to his right and he spun, trying and failing to raise his sword. Yellow and red spots danced in his vision, scattering across the two figures ahead of him.

“Sky, it’s us!” Legend’s voice carried through the storm. Sky squinted, barely making out Legend’s red tunic and Time’s face markings. He felt relief for only a moment before staggering forward, heart crashing wildly against his ribs.

“V-vet,” he gasped, struggling to raise his voice over the storm. “Sa- Sailor and Cook, are they… are th-they okay?”

Legend didn’t appear to hear him, reaching for Sky’s left arm the moment he was close enough. “That was one hell of an attack!”

“Did I hit Sailor or Cook?” Sky shouted, voice hoarse.

“It doesn’t look like it,” Time yelled back, coming up behind Legend. Blood smeared across one cheek, streaking downward in red lines as the rain washed it away.

“Th…they’re okay?”

Lightning flashed and Sky turned to look where Wind and Wild had been. Two blobs of blue moved among the monster remains and a heavy wave of relief washed over Sky. He swayed dangerously and Legend grabbed his arms to steady him. One of Legend’s hands hit Sky’s wound and Sky let out a strangled cry, flinching back and nearly falling over. Time and Legend both yelped, the old man darting forward to help steady Sky before he could collapse.

“He’s bleeding!” Legend cried. “I can’t tell what exactly, but something got his arm good.”

The ringing built in Sky’s ears, rattling around in his head as pain lanced up and down both arms. Thunder crashed through the air, bringing to attention a horrible pounding behind his eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. Time squeezed his shoulder to get his attention.

“Is there anything in your arm?” he asked in a shout, voice nearly drowned by the rain. When Sky shook his head, Time held up a bottle of potion. “Drink this! Then we’ll regroup with the others and get to shelter!”

Sky tried lifting his arm to sheath the Master Sword so he could take the potion, but he could hardly bend his elbow. He attempted once more before shaking his head. “C-can’t.”

The world lurched and he staggered to one side. Time darted forward and caught him, Sky sagging against his side. Thunder crashed, deafeningly close. In the flash of light, Sky saw Legend flinch harshly, biting his lower lip, brow furrowed.

“We’ll head to the cave first!” Time yelled. Since Time had taken off his armor before the storm hit to avoid getting struck by lightning, Sky could feel the old man’s chest vibrate as he spoke.

“I’ll… I’ll tell the others!” Legend shouted. Sky could just barely see him taking a steadying breath before running off.

Time wrapped an arm around Sky’s shoulders and guided him forward, moving as quickly as Sky could manage. Sky could hardly tell where they were going, but each time lightning flashed, the mouth of the cave grew closer and closer. The ringing in his ears continued to grow, time slurring as they moved, each drop of rain that hit his arm sending jolts of pain through him. Lightning struck the ground, dangerously close and Time tightened his hold on Sky, moving faster. They burst through the mouth of the cave and they slowed, Time turning and lowering Sky to the ground. Sky leaned back against the cave wall with a groan, eyes sliding shut.

“Potion, Sky,” Time reminded him, pressing the bottle to Sky’s lips. Sky peeled his eyelids apart and nodded before Time tipped the bottle back, the potion flowing into Sky’s mouth. Sky drank as quickly as he could, the pain in his arm steadily ebbing away. Once he drained it, he gingerly tested the movement of his arms. His left arm still felt immensely sore, his right one tingling, but he could at least move them. He laid the Master Sword across his lap with a sigh.

Warriors, Four, and Hyrule came crashing into the cave. They came to a stumbling halt once inside, Hyrule collapsing to the ground, Four leaning against the wall, and Warriors standing with his hands on his hips, gasping for breath. Twilight followed soon after, pelt utterly soaked, hair plastered to his forehead. Sky stared at the mouth of the cave as Time checked everyone for injuries. They’re fine, Sky told himself as he watched for two blue tunics to arrive. The old man said they were fine. Several long seconds passed, long enough for Time to address a deep cut along Four’s collar. Long enough for the others to start glancing toward the mouth of the cave. Long enough for fear to gnaw its way into Sky’s gut.

Legend ran into the cave, saying something about how much he hated storms between pants. Wild and Wind staggered in after him and Sky jerked upright, checking them over with his eyes despite the difficulty given how dark it was. Mud splattered both of them, blood soaking into Wild’s right sleeve and seeping from a cut in Wind’s forehead, but they were alive. Wind’s gaze fell on Sky and his eyes lit up, hurrying over to him.

“Sailor,” Sky said before Wind could speak. “Are you guys okay? I didn’t hit you?”

“We’re fine!” Wind exclaimed, falling to his knees beside Sky. Then a grin split his face. “That was so cool! How’d you do it?! I got so scared, I thought you got hit by the lightning- well, I guess you did, but- but then you shot it out of your sword and got all the monsters in one hit! And- and you’re okay, right? Because I heard you scream and it sounded like it hurt and I didn’t know if-“

“You’re allowed to breathe, Sailor,” Wild said from behind Wind with a grin, nudging the sailor before sitting down beside him.

“I’m fine,” Sky said to Wind with a small smile. His arm still ached and he was quite sure he’d have some new feathery scars to match the old ones, but it was infinitely worth it.

Wind’s shoulders dropped. “Oh, good.” He remained quiet for about one second before launching right back into gushing over Sky’s attack. When Wild joined in, Sky couldn’t help but laugh.

[vio-starzz]

Febuwhump Day Six, You Lied To Me

Characters: Link (Botw, post&during), Zelda, mention of others in it? Tw: Death, Violence, Swearing

Actually proud of this, Reblogging is appreciated <3

Ao3 Link!

“As long as you follow my leadership, it’ll be alright.”

Link knew better than to doubt that, knew better than to doubt the entirety of Hyrule and its knights. 

Yet, they still had those uncertain fears nagging at the back of their head. They still felt as though something simply didn’t add up. That even as the king spoke to them all, there were still those subtle uncertainties that lay right there, that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t be enough. Which, that alone ate at their every waking thought, yet they had to keep it together and ignore it. 

Zelda would be enough, the champions would be enough: Everything would be fine. 

Hyrule, no matter how big the calamity is, will stand tall. 

So no matter how everything feels wrong, how badly their gut is pleading at them, to think more about the fight that’s to come… It’d be okay. They’ll win this, easily. 

They’ve got the advantage, right? 

Wrong. Not enough. 

As the king's speech, and plans, end…. Link follows Zelda to the back, she’s clearly upset but Link needs to stay on task and quiet. Speaking to her is like speaking to a god. It just simply never happens. 

Or, at least, it’s actually harder than talking to Hylia. 

They slowly walk through the castle, making it all the way through to her room, which Link stops outside. She heads in, as they turn away, more as guarding her door– Or at least it may look that way. Link of course, no matter what, will respect her room as a sense of her own privacy. He won’t ever step in, and will only continue to accompany her after she comes back out. Whatever happens there is not, and will not, be their business. 

They do let their thoughts wander, but to something different this time, as the nagging anxieties are probably not best to keep on thought. 

Today itself is Zelda’s seventeenth birthday, which confuses Link in a sense. She always calls them older, making it known that she doesn’t know how he’s nearly two years younger. Although, that’s something she can’t know. Not even the champions need to know that someone, just recently sixteen, holds a sword that will put an end to something so evil. 

Hell, sixteen doesn’t seem bad, but to know they were knighted around the fairly young age of seven, and actually came into possession of being the highest rank at twelve? Nobody needs to know that. No guard, champion, or anyone needs to know just how young they are. 

Only their family understands… Which is perhaps why they haven’t let his younger sister on the grounds. She is quite talkative, and would fairly easily reveal that Link is not three years older than Zelda, as everyone has been led to believe. 

How exactly they believe Link is that old? Not even Link seems to understand. He would’ve thought they knew better, but alas, it seems they don’t. All he truly knows… Is that it isn’t fair. They should be a free child, not a knight, with absolutely no freedom. 

But alas, fate doesn’t allow children to be kids, does it… 

He wonders how his sister is… How free she’s been allowed to live, and perhaps how sad she’d be to know it’ll be another few months to see him again. He’d promised her, he’d see her maybe in a week? But it’s clear that won’t happen. 

He could probably ask the princess to stop by their town, so he could say hi… But, he’d rather not get punished by the kin again for taking a detour, when it’s clearly not the time, so of course, staying silent is what he’ll do. 

As always. 

When Zelda finally returns out, she’s wearing the same old white dress. Which Link has to prevent actually scowling at. It’s said to be her goddess attire, or whatever, but the fact alone that she wears no coat? How low has the king fallen to allow his only daughter to wear something that she’ll freeze in?

He’ll definitely have to lend her an elixir, to prevent from utterly freezing the moment they near the snowed out plains. Hell, it’s probably the least he can do to help. 

Because he knows damn well her father has put far too much pressure on someone so young. He hasn’t once been there as the father she needs. Just the king in her life. 

Seventeen isn’t old enough to hold the entire fate of a nation in their hands.

Neither is sixteen.          

Hell, at no age should someone have to hold so much power and pressure within their hands, especially not kids, but even adults can’t hold that amount of stress without it destroying them. 

Finally, they force themselves out of their gut crushing thoughts, and get back to following alongside Zelda, back to being her knight– and not someone trapped within self deprecating thoughts. 

Taking pace behind her, they remind themself several times to keep a steady pace, not to rush it, and certainly not to walk past her… Even when she’s walking so slow and it’s so tempting—

Before long, they’re already walking out of Castle Town, finding place alongside both of their horses… Zelda with her pure white steed, she’s named it Storm, and Link with their… Well, Brown horse, cream-coated mane… Epona. 

Where it came, that urged them to name the steed, they aren’t sure. But it was like a calling, like an unavoidable plea, and unfortunately it ranked over the urge to name her “Butter” which they had instead decided to nickname her. 

Still, Butter is a great name.

As they both boarded their horses, Link decided to toss her two spicy elixirs, which surprised her at first, but she did thank him upon realizing why he’d done it. He made sure they’d last a while, and even are one of the ones he’d made: So he can only hope she puts them to use the closer they get.

The horse ride forwards, despite being quite long… Was also quite peaceful, and with their fairly fast horses, it did make the way to the Spring of Wisdom easier. Link only had to kill a few enemies, and accidentally (purposely) allowed Epona to run into, killing, a spare bokoblin. 

There weren't too many enemies, only a few extra than normal which brought the feeling of the calamity being near…. 

It wasn’t that hard to zone out, and simply enjoy the ride. Feeling the air brush past, and just watching the scenery with little to no distractions was truly calming. They’d give anything, absolutely anything, to be able to enjoy this everyday. 

Before long they were upon the Spring of Wisdom, yet, of course, met with disappointment again. They could hear Hylia, apologizing and saying it’d all be okay. That no matter what, they’ll beat Calamity soon… That the war that’s coming is going to end.

But Zelda couldn’t hear any of it, it simply fell on Link’s ears, as Zelda broke down in the spring, crying her eyes out at how she’d failed, and Hylia staying close, trying to help, even when falling upon deaf ears. 

It was awful to witness how she stood there in the water, letting her dress soak, and her body shivering. How she was so desperate, that this was supposed to be the last time…. But alas, Link had to finally acknowledge how if she stayed longer in the freezing temperatures, hypothermia would be upon her…. 

Then she’d be in more misery, and Link would never hear the end of the King’s nonsense. 

Going in the water, they pull her up, holding her close as they escort her away from the springs…. Away from Hylia’s voice.

When leaving the sacred statue, they could hear Hylia speak once again… This time, just a faint whisper, just uttering two words they didn’t quite understand now… 

“I’m sorry”

Whatever she meant by that, Link was sure it wasn’t that big. They had bigger problems to face: Getting back and preventing Zelda from freezing…. They place her on her horse, allowing her to mount herself, but also passing out a blanket to wrap around her… One they knew they’d have to use, despite hoping they wouldn’t have to.

As they rode back, things felt tenser and worse, and eventually Link had decided to split the time, cutting and leading Zelda through a breakoff in the path. Through unpathed land, across the plains and insafer land to cut their time in half. 

It was her birthday, and she was met with the worst nightmare of her life, utter and complete failure? For fucks sake, this day cannot get any worse…

Getting back to the castle should’ve been a breeze, but as they came upon a hillside, miles away from Hyrule castle, they were met by the champions, and very quickly did Zelda dismount.

Link unboarded their own steed, to rejoin up to Zelda’s side as fast as possible… The champions were with Impa, who had been informed by Purah of the growing and dangerous developing presence near the castle,

“Is everything oka—“

They get no response , as the ground shakes, and from nearby Hyrule castle, a red glow and eerie black smog fills the sky, despite not quite being day, the moon appears, glowing so brightly red, as if needing to make it’s form known.

Just then, it becomes obvious as to what’s happening, as an outlined and clouded fog of ganon starts to split out of the castle….. Nobody needed to communicate much as the champions left to their perspective Diving Beasts, and Link and Zelda headed towards the castle, headed towards the King in a struggling effort….

But they didn’t reach him in time. 

As they came upon her father, they watched as Ganon’s power took over. Spreading greedily into each guardian, taking their power and force, leaving them as weapons against the kingdom. 

Turning what they thought they had, into nothing.

Link knew they couldn’t press into the castle, they didn’t want to leave the kingdom…. But protecting Zelda was their only mission: That was Link’s job as her knight.

Their horses were gone, having been scared and chosen to run off, Link had to suddenly grab her arm, and force her away. 

“W-What are you doing!? Link! Let go of me!”

He had to push away her pleas as they got away from the town, taking a safer path through one of the forests as they heard the signals from her slate… She pleaded and begged, until they both heard the signals, and she fell to a halt upon the ground. Her dress now covered in mud, as tears soaked her eyes…

“…No…”

The last signal, from Revali, suddenly comes, a simple and frantic [S.O.S] before cutting off, and falling to static. A large explosion is heard once more, from the castle, as the defenses are clearly down and gone, the knights have failed to protect Hyrule’s King in the end.

Link got down on one knee, trying to urge her forward, as even he knows what that means, only to be met by her head collapsing into his arms as she cries and tries to accept and mourn what they’ve just learnt.

Link himself can’t process any of it… Like their entire moment of grief is delayed, and their mind can’t help but wrap around the entire loss of friends and of their home itself.

How many knights Link knew that have probably all fallen by now, they had no idea. And that alone was devastating: For they didn’t know. 

She cried and cried for what felt like hours, but was only minutes, as Link tried to help her up so they could get away…. 

It was pathetic to think about really, as they ran…. As the sun itself was far gone, and now it was just the blood moon upon a darkened sky. What used to come every hundred years, has come far earlier with Calamity Ganon's arisal. 

They both stumble and tread on through the leaves and muddied path forward. Getting to fort Hateno, as things finally started to look awful. 

They were no longer free of Guardian territory, and just a few had weakened Link down. 

They weren’t set to fight these machines, and the Master Sword was growing weaker and weaker as they tried to defend them both with the sword's blade, when attacking itself seemed impossible, as getting close enough without leaving Zelda blind and easily open to attack was far too risky.

They try once more to deflect, but this time, they use their body— Causing Zelda to shriek in fear as the blast sears through half their chest painfully. But still, they stay in front, and try to lead her forward even when their legs begin to feel heavy and their grip weaker.

They tried, over and over, blast and blast again, able to kill maybe one or two guardians to defend her, before finally collapsing as she begs them to go. To leave her, and get away— But more come, more than three, four, eight…? How many were blurry, as their left ear dripped in blood, and half their body was burnt and scarred by now, soaking in blood, and also feeling as if this was the end: But they had to protect her, right?

They stumbled forward, gripping the Master Sword—Fi—Tightly as they brace for whatever these bastards bring against them.

They failed to even raise their sword towards the calamity, failed to do what they were born for, so at least they can protect her, give her the time to get away….?

Their vision sways as she runs ahead of them, they stumble back once more: and a blinding light fills the darkness, letting him know… That she did have it in her to unlock that power, the springs be damned… She… Did it…

They fall back, not able to think anymore, and only hoping to Hylia, or damnit, whatever god is out there and willing to listen….. That his sister is safe, that she doesn’t get cursed with death so early… And that…. she certainly doesn’t… learn of….. his defeat….. Of his… Fai…lure…

The lines between reality, and death blur…. As his thoughts fail to come in complete forms, and even as he feels Zelda grab him, he knows he isn’t quite there anymore…

He knows this is his end….

….

Link wakes up from his nightmare, breathing heavily and practically panting as they struggle to maintain a steady breath of air, and slowly calm down. It takes minutes as the scattered memories they didn’t fully have came back, as the blurry lines of the past connected, and their thoughts finally came together— As did their awareness.

It all made sense now.

He could feel and even see Hylia’s presence, as she tried to be there to calm them, but it didn’t matter to them.

The shrines, the way it was all set up after they woke from the shrine.

Fi had the audacity to believe she had to apologize for not being enough for the hero? But it wasn’t her fault! It wasn’t Link’s either, the blame was on none of them now, as the stupid apology from hundreds of years ago finally made sense…?

Link understood now, understood her words, and the false hope she set up to begin with.

“You…. Knew…?”

Hylia lied…?

She lied. She knew the entire time, and understood the entire fate that she placed upon them. And still, coldlessly and heartlessly she led them all to believe they had a winning chance, that Hyrule could win.

She knew, and still hadn’t bothered to utter a word….

“Child—“

“Her death….That’s your fault. It’s all your fault.” 

“Child, please–”

“No, you knew. You lied to me.”

Hell, she may have lied to everyone…. But Link was the only one who heard. Her words had fallen on deaf ears, except Link’s, and yet she still died. She could’ve done more, said more— She lied…

She lied.