#febuwhump no 25

[fletcherwilbury]

@febuwhump Day 25: Alt Prompt 10: Last Man Standing

Warning for Canon-typical violence, weapons, physical violence, injury, illness, broken bones, pneumonia

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 25 alt: "I love you,"

Content warning: intimate whumper, very vaguely spice, strangling

Whumper was crouched over Whumpee’s body. Their hands were wrapped around their throat; Whumper gave a firm squeeze, and felt Whumpee’s pulse pounding underneath their hands.

Whumpee, of course, was fighting against them. Their teeth were gritted in concentration, both hands wrapped around Whumper’s wrists, trying futally to pull Whumper’s weight off of them. Even at a glance, it was obvious the effort would fail. Whumpee was too small, to frail, in too horrible of a position for any of their efforts to amount to anything. And yet they still struggled, even when it was hopeless.

“You only need to ask, and I’ll let you go,” Whumper’s voice was a purr. Their fingers rubbed into Whumpee’s bobbing throat, a caressing gesture that forced another choked gurgle from Whumpee’s lips. “Let me hear you beg, pet. I’d be so kind to you, if only you asked.”

Whumpee ignored them, of course. Their scowl remained defiantly in place, frail fingers prying fruitlessly at Whumper’s hold. Their expression was furious and terrified, like a cornered animal. But even with the fear in their eyes, there was no pleading. Simply hate, raw and bloody.

Whumper kept their pressure consistent, unwavering as Whumpee’s nails dug into their skin.

They watched as Whumpee turned pale, as spittle began to drip down their parted lips, as they gasped for breath they couldn’t reach. Their fingers danced over Whumper’s, looking for leverage they wouldn’t find, fighting overwhelming force they were quickly losing the energy to combat. Still fighting, struggling, even against infinite odds.

There was no dignity in their struggles. There was only desperation, mindless and rabid and furious.

It was their eyes that caught Whumper’s attention.

There was nothing but hate in their eyes, fury that went beyond pride or simple defiance. It was wild and undignified, an overwhelming hate that would push Whumpee to destroy themselves if only to spite Whumper. Even as their eyes grew distant, as fear twisted their expression, that anger never left. Whumpee hated them. Hated with every part of their being, hated so deeply that it consumed them.

And so they would never beg, even if doing so could save their very life. Defiant until the very end.

Whumper squeezed tighter, watching those beautiful, hateful eyes roll.

“God I love you,” Whumper whispered almost reverently, eyes unable to tear away from Whumpee’s fading gaze. Even as they began going limp beneath Whumper, that anger never left.

Finally, when they felt Whumpee’s heartbeat grow faint, Whumper loosened their hold.

Whumpee lurched forward like a drowning man, mouth opened in a desperate gasp. Their body lurched with the ragged inhale, and Whumper shivered as Whumpee unintentionally pressed their bodies closer together.

Whumpee flopped back to the ground, chest rising and falling desperately. For a moment, Whumper saw a vision of what could be. Whumpee, unravel beneath them, panting and shaking. Not fighting against Whumpee’s touch, weakened into submission.

And then Whumpee’s eyes focused. Their hands, shaking and weak, moved to pull Whumper’s fingers from their throat. Anger still burned in their eyes.

Whumer smiled, something hungry in their gaze. They tightened their grip once more. “I can’t wait to ruin you.”

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 25: Alt - Human Shield ♡

@febuwhump

Content: Blood, guns

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thinking about Whumper, cornered, grabbing Whumpee and using them as cover as they try to retreat. Do Whumper’s assailants stop shooting? Or do they just hope that at least some of the bullets hit the correct target and accept Whumpee as collateral?

Whumper holds Whumpee tight against their chest and at first Whumpee is yelling and struggling, but as more and more gunshots ring out Whumper can feel Whumpee’s body losing its fight. They start to slump against Whumper, their screams turning into broken gasps and whimpers as a puddle of blood grows under the two.

When Whumper finally makes it to safety they whisper, “Thank you. You were very helpful,” into Whumpee’s ear before finally letting them crumble to the ground.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

[serickswrites]

Board

Warnings: captivity, restraint, torture, forced to watch, drowning, water torture, waterboarding

Team Leader screamed their frustration as they tugged uselessly on their restraints. They had been trying fruitlessly to break free of the cuffs that kept them standing at the far wall. Whumper had restrained them such that they couldn't sit and that they couldn't turn away from the out of reach center of the room. Turn away from everything they saw. Turn away from Smallest Teammate.

Smallest Teammate was sputtering and gasping from the tilted over chair, their hair just brushing the dirty ground, their face obscured by the filthy towel Whumper had slapped them with. They had initially tolerated the water torture with minimal crying. But all of their hard won strength and courage failed after Whumper had relentlessly continued the torture.

Team Leader had lost track of how long Whumper had been at it with Smallest Teammate. Had lost track of how long they listened to Smallest Teammate choke and gasp around the water being poured on their face. Had lost track of everything because they couldn't break free.

"I think that'll do for now, don't you think?" Whumper said as they let Smallest Teammate's chair drop the last few inches to the floor. Smallest Teammate let out a wordless shriek as they fell. They continued to shriek and sob as Whumper left the room.

"Smallest Teammate," Team Leader called, desperately trying to catch their attention. "Smallest Teammate."

But Smallest Teammate didn't reply. They continued to sob as they lay on the floor.

"You have to help them," Team Leader said hoping that the rest of the team could hear them through the broken communicator. Their headset had long broken, but they hoped that somehow the microphone and ability to transmit hadn't been damaged. Because they needed help. They needed the team to come and help them. They needed the team to come and save Smallest Teammate before Whumper graduated from simulating drowning to actually drowning Smallest Teammate.

"Please," Team Leader begged one more time, "if you can hear me, please come help them. I need you to come help them."

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: day twenty-five

Prompt — waterboarding ( @febuwhump prompts)

PLEASE BE WARNED THAT THIS SNIPPET IS VERY GRAPHIC, VERY TRIGGERING FOR CHOKING, SUFFOCATING AND GENERALLY VERY DARK!

TW: waterboarding (VERY DETAILED) interrogation, team Whump, leader whumpee, interrogator Whumper, nonchalant torturer, traumatic event, suffocating, choking, gagging, vomiting, spewing, dissociation

PLEASE AGAIN READ THE TAGS MIND THE WARNINGS

Henchmen led Whumper down into the basement where they held the Hero team. Whumper followed, hands in the pockets of their black combats, eyes skimming the cold stone walls as they waited for Henchmen to open the door.

“Supervillain said they refuse to talk,” said Henchmen to Whumper, looking back over their shoulder at them and frowning. “Said you’re the best interrogator in the city.”

“Yeah?” Whumper asked, tilting their head, tone bored. “High praise from Supervillain.”

“You don’t look like a good interrogator.”

Whumper let out a small hmph of a laugh which Henchmen went pale at. “I— I mean, it’s just— you’re young. You look younger than me.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” said Whumper with a shrug, half lidded eyes on Henchmen and the door. “I get paid hourly, so if you want Supervillain to pay me more, which I would appreciate—”

Henchmen shook their head and turned their attention back to the lock. “Right sorry.”

Whumper leaned their back against the wall and repressed a sigh. They weren’t a very patient person, which probably came with the job description but how many times had they had this same conversation with other employers.

The lock finally clicked and Whumper pushed off the wall, grabbing the door as they passed Henchmen. They met Henchmen’s eyes, looking up at them with the same blank expression they usually wore.

“Listen, henchmen, it gets pretty bleak when I’m interrogating. You sure you can stomach it?”

Henchmen nodded, though their face expressed their hesitance. “Supervillain said I had to accompany you.”

Whumper blinked, then glanced back at the stairs up to Supervillain’s house before sighing.

“Fine. If you want to impress him so damn much.”

Henchmen blushed, flustered. “I— I—”

Whumper was already walking down the stairs to the Hero team, ignored Henchmen’s embarrassment.

“You coming or what, sycophant?”

“Uh, yes!” Henchmen said and closed the door after them.

Whumper stood at the gate of the powered cell, frowning at the Hero team inside. Their eyes passed over each of them, Whumper knew some of them from the news. Especially the tallest one, Leader. One look at them and Whumper knew they wouldn’t talk if Whumper broke every bone in their body. The rest of them… well, Whumper had more faith in their own talents than the other member’s resilience.

Whumper’s eyes landed on a familiar face sitting furthest from the door, their lips twitching as they met Rogue’s eyes from across the room. Henchmen was getting to work opening the gate when Rogue spoke.

“Whumper?” Rogue asked, their voice a mix of confusion and fear. The rattle of chains as Rogue shifted forwards in the dimly lit cell, squinting.

“Hey, Rogue. Funny meeting like this, huh? How have you been?”

“Good,” said Rogue in that same guarded tone.

“Rogue?” Leader asked. “Who is this?”

“An old friend,” said Rogue, swallowing, their eyes going back to Whumper as Henchmen opened the gate and Whumper stepped through. “We grew up in the same neighbourhood.”

“Mmm,” Whumper hummed fondly. “In the Grouts of the city, eh, Rogue? How’s your mum?”

“She’s good.”

Whumper smiled. “Good, good. Tell her I say hi. She’s a lovely woman.”

“I will.”

“Good to see you, I hope you know this is all just business,” Whumper said gesturing to the cell and themselves with their hand.

“You don’t have to hurt us.”

Whumper’s smile melted from their face, eyebrows raising. “Oh? Your team are all loose lips, huh? You’ll just tell me about Superhero and his secret weapon?”

Rogue went quiet, so did the rest of the cell. A humourless smile crept onto Whumper’s face. “Yeah… I didn’t think this job would be that easy.”

“What do you want?” Leader asked. Whumper flicked their gaze to Leader who was on his knees, hands cuffed to a ring in the wall behind him like the rest of the Hero team. Yikes, what kind of sicko was Supervillain to have metal rings embedded in stone? Whumper supposed it didn’t matter.

“I want to get paid,” said Whumper, stretching their arms above their head. “Ugh, then I want to go home and watch TV. That sound good to you, heroes?”

“I think he meant… like what do you want with them,” said Henchmen quietly to Whumper. Whumper frowned and made a verbal “huh!” in exclamation.

“I just told them,” said Whumper. “Supervillain wants information on Superhero’s secret weapon, I’m here to get that information and get paid.”

Leader curled his lip back into a snarl. “Good luck with that.”

Whumper shrugged. “Thank you, Leader. However I am a professional, I don’t need luck. I’m trained to get stoic people chatty.”

“You really think Supervillain hasn’t tried? Torturing us, depriving us of food and water? Leaving us down here to starve and then when that didn’t work going back to torturing us? We’re built to endure,” said Leader with a mirthless smirk. “We don’t break.”

Whumper nodded. “Okay. We can do this the hard way then.”

Whumper turned to henchmen and asked them to grab a cloth and a hose to attach to the tap. “Oh, and a chair, please, henchmen.”

Henchmen left the room, their footsteps ascending was the only sound permeating the cell. Whumper walked over to the girl sitting directly opposite Leader. The only person on the Hero team that Whumper didn’t recognise. Maybe a new recruit? Leader lurched forward, but Whumper just cocked an eyebrow at Leader.

“What’s your name?” Whumper asked her. “This isn’t the interrogation yet, don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me. Just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Whumper looked at Rogue who kept their eyes trained on Whumper. “How long have ye been down here?”

“A while,” Rogue told them with a huff.

Whumper nodded. “Supervillain really starve all of you?”

“Yeah,” said Rogue, a little sheepishly.

“Nothing you’re not used to,” said Whumper with a little laugh. Rogue joined in, although a bit awkwardly. Whumper’s eyes scanned the other people in the room who looked a bit dazed at the flyaway comment. Then they reclined their head against the wall. “Oh. Sorry. You never told them.”

“It’s okay,” said Rogue with a shrug. “They were bound to find out eventually.”

Whumper nodded again. Then let out a sigh. “You don’t want to tell me Superhero’s plan, do you? Save you all some suffering.”

Rogue laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Well, god loves a trier.”

The door to the basement creaked open and Henchmen came down the stairs and left all the things Whumper asked for at the front of the cell, near the gate. “Ah. Wonderful. Thank you henchmen.”

Whumper stood in front of the team of heroes and cleared their throat while Henchmen attached the hose to the leaky tap.

“Okay. For my first trick, I need a volunteer. Leader?” Whumper asked with a smile. Leader scoffed but nodded. “Sure.”

“Excellent.”

Henchmen freed Leader from the wall, the cuffs staying on and led Leader over to chair that Whumper stood at.

“Sit down,” said Whumper. Leader obliged them, and Whumper grabbed Leader’s arms and brought them up over the back of the chair. It was all very gentle, very professional, as if Whumper wasn’t trying to hurt Leader. It sent warning bells off in Leader’s head, but all he could do was follow along with what Whumper was doing.

Henchmen handed Whumper another pair of handcuffs and Whumper thanked them. Whumper attached one of the cuffs to Leader’s cuff chain, and the other to the chair so Leader couldn’t move his hands away.

“Henchmen will you get the legs?”

“Of course.”

Before long Leader’s ankles were cuffed to the chair as well and Leader couldn’t get up from the seat.

“Alright, people. Last chance.”

“Do you worst.”

Whumper smiled. Then they tipped Leader’s chair back. Leader let out a soft oomph as the chair fell back the rest of the way until Leader was facing the ceiling, Whumper and Henchmen standing above him.

The last thing Leader saw was a towel coming down over his head. Leader would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of what happened next. None of Supervillain’s men had taken his sight, or tied him to a chair just to force him awkwardly onto the ground. The top of his head was the only thing on the ground, that and his arms that were pinned beneath Leader’s weight on the chair, his legs in the air.

Another towel added to the initial one on top of Leader’s head, then another and Leader could feel his heart in his throat when he heard tape being ripped. The towels were wrapped in a single layer of duct tape over Leader’s eyes and another layer below his chin.

Leader swallowed, his hands balling into fists behind him that was already causing pins and needles in his arms.

There was a moment of silence: the atmosphere balanced on a precarious edge of fear and tension. Whumper nodded at henchmen to turn on the tap and picked up the hose.

“Any takers?” Whumper asked again. They weren’t usually this nice to the people they were torturing, but Rogue was an old friend. “No? Okay. Sorry Leader.”

That was all the warning Leader got before he was inhaling water. It was slow, trickling into his nose and Leader realised with a sickening beat that Whumper was water boarding him.

Leader held his breath on instinct, shaking his head, his arms trapped uselessly behind him. His legs were kicking at the cuffs that kept them locked to the chair.

“Leader?!” One of their team asked, voice shrill. Leader couldn’t tell who, and his lungs were aching with how much he was struggling to get the towels off his face, turning away from the hose that was relentless.

“Leader!”

“Wait! Stop! Stop!”

Whumper stared impassively at all the team members, eyes half-lidded, one hand in their pocket as they regarded them all as if they were all just waiting in line for a coffee.

“You can stop this,” said Whumper matter-of-factly.

One of the members beside Rogue spoke up: “Leader wouldn’t want us to.”

Whumper dropped their head, a sardonic expression crossing their features. “Are you serious? Do you really think Leader is thinking about his ideals right now?”

Leader gasped, unable to hold his breath anymore and he started gagging on the air, gurgling water and retching, his body spasming and limbs pulling at the restraints. Whumper didn’t even blink at the change.

“The instinct when being water boarded,” Whumper began, “is to hold your breath. Which Leader here just learned is a bad idea because eventually your lungs want air.”

“Whumper,” Rogue said in warning, yanking at the chains holding them back.

Whumper’s impassive eyes met Rogue’s. “Leader’s body needs air, except he was inhaling water which triggers his gag reflex and is effectively scorching his throat as we speak.”

“Stop it!” One of the members cried. “Stop narrating your torture!”

Whumper shrugged. “Fine. We can sit in silence if you prefer.”

Whumper did just that. They fell silent and so did everyone else. Leader was choking, convulsing, fighting, gasping, all very wetly, the water pooling around Leader’s head as his body tensed. Leader pushed against the chair, his body going stiff as he tried to tilt the chair back up to stop the easy onslaught of pain.

His brain was screaming at him, his body fighting and not understanding that he should stop trying to breathe but his mind wouldn’t let him stop panicking enough to let him hold his breath.

Leader threw his body weight into his legs forward and to his shock the chair went upright. Then Whumper caught the chair and Leader gasped in sweet sweet air, gasping, gasping, not getting enough air and started choking and spluttering on it.

“You had enough Leader?” Whumper asked, their voice matching their face that was a cold, emotionless thing.

Leader was still breathing in air, trying to get his heartbeat under control, drunk on oxygen.

“Leader?” One of the team asked.

“No… don’t—” Leader rasped, then descended into a coughing fit. “Don’t tell them anything.”

“Oh,” said Whumper, letting the chair fall backwards again. “Sounds like you got a bad cough there Leader. You need some water?”

“No! Wait!” Leader protested.

Whumper let the hose fall over Leader’s face again, and Leader held his breath again like an idiot. Whumper stared down at Leader’s chest, wired so tight, trying not to let drowning bother him.

Whumper looked back at the other members of the team. “This is the easiest way to get answers from people, in my professional opinion. Plus it’s not disgusting, no lasting damage on Leader or you guys, except you know, trauma and psychological damage, but you know what I mean.”

Four horrified expressions looked at Whumper. Whumper glanced back to Henchmen who stood at the tap, their jaw tight.

Whumper knew it was a professional, practical reason why they didn’t really react to inflicting pain on people, but at times like this, when even Supervillain’s right hand was uncomfortable with Whumper’s methods… that made them feel inhuman. Wrong.

Whumper’s eyes found Rogue’s that were burning into them from across the cell. Strangely, they were the only eyes that Whumper really cared about. So funny how the past can creep up on you.

Well, a job is a job at the end of the day, Whumper might as well do one that they’re good at. The people in this room were Heroes because it was their talent. Whumper’s talent was pressure point and pain, and knowing just how far to go to get someone to snap.

Leader gasped below Whumper, bringing their attention back to the writhing worm on a hook below them. “Ah. There we go. The inhale. Human anatomy fucks you everytime, huh, Leader?”

“You’re a sadistic bastard!” One of the team members screamed.

Whumper frowned. “I don’t enjoy this. It’s just a job. Same as you Heroes, and your Superhero. Ask yourself this, if Leader was in your position and you were in his, would he protect you or would he protect Superhero?”

“You’re a bastard!”

Leader wheezed, trying to push himself up again, but Whumper had placed a foot on the chair by Leader’s head. “Ah, ah, ah. Leader. You’re not breathing again until someone starts talking.”

Leader convulsed erratically under the water, trying to lift his head up to try and get some air in his lungs. He craned his neck up, but the air attacked his senses and Leader gasped and fell back again. The hose mercilessly flowed over his nose again.

Whumper looked up suddenly. “Hey, do any of you know if Leader has asthma? Cause if so you need to decide faster, this is not a good thing to do to people who are asthmatic.”

“And it’s a good thing for normal people?” One of them asked and Whumper scoffed.

“Semantics,” they said.

“We have to tell them,” said Rogue quietly.

“What?!”

“We can’t Rogue.”

“Listen,” Rogue said, their voice edging on desperate. “I know Whumper, okay?! They’re not going to stop until they get what they want. They can sit here all day and torture Leader and not feel a thing.”

“Rogue’s right,” said Whumper with a sigh. “I get paid by the hour, so really this whole debate back and forth is good for me. Financially I mean. Take your time. Leader, do you mind if they take their time?”

Leader gurgled and choked and spluttered.

Whumper smiled at the team. “See? He’s fine. Take your time.”

“Oh shut up, Whumper,” said the quiet girl. Whumper looked at her, the new one that sat opposite Leader and wouldn’t offer her name. When she looked at Whumper now her eyes burned with a sizzling hatred.

Whumper smiled at her, recognising that level of hatred as their own. Whumper remembers being where she was, powerless to stop bad things from happening to the people they loved.

It felt full circle, that moment, and it ignited something within Whumper that was a little feral, and broken, and wrong. Whumper’s eyes flashed at her, whose glare was unbroken and burning a hole through Whumper’s head, or it would if it could.

Below them, Leader was still spluttering and choking and gagging and wrenching and writhing but Whumper’s attention was fixed on the new girl now.

“Huh. You’re chatty now? Wanna share your name?”

“No,” she said. “I want you to die.”

“Thats a little forward, considering we’ve just met,” said Whumper, glancing at Rogue, whose wide eyes were fixed squarely on the girl. “They always like this, Rogue? Little rude for a Hero.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me.”

Whumper hummed to themselves. They moved the hose away from Leader’s head and smiled wanly at the sounds of Leader gasping and coughing on air again.

“Still with us, Leader?” Whumper asked, not taking their eyes off of the angry girl.

“Go… go ffu—urself,” Leader wheezed between laboured breaths.

“Waterboarding is special, huh, Leader? You need breaks in between or it’s not as effective.”

“You—”

Whumper pressed the hose back to Leader and Leader immediately started coughing. Whumper smiled at the girl whose jaw tightened at Whumper’s blasé style of interrogation.

Whumper took the hose off of Leader again, to more coughing and spluttering.

“How’s the cough, Leader?”

“Ff—” Leader didn’t even get a syllable out before Whumper pressed the hose down on his nose again.

“Leader!” One of the other teammates exclaimed, but Whumper had their gaze trained on the girl. Watching her muscles tightening.

Whumper smirked.

Oh they just found the weak link. Maybe they had a special relationship with Leader.

Whumper told Henchmen to turn the tap off and dropped the hose to the floor. Things just got interesting.

“You can put Leader upright,” said Whumper to Henchmen as they walked to the angry girl. Whumper crouched down in front of her. She glared up at Whumper.

“Whumper,” said Rogue in warning. Whumper smiled down at the girl and said: “Rogue, if you try and dissuade me again I will have Henchmen gag you.”

The girl’s eyes flicked briefly to Leader who was pushed to an upright position. Leader spewed some water from his lungs onto the floor in front of him, head lolling forward and groaning.

“What’s your name, little Hero?” Whumper asked.

“Little Hero,” she replied, eyes hard as she stared at Whumper.

Whumper grinned. “Funny.”

Whumper got to their feet and walked over to Leader, purposefully. They ripped the towels from Leader’s head and grabbed one, coiling it meticulously into a shape resembling coiled rope. Then Whumper shoved it between Leader’s teeth, thankful that the towel was long enough to tie it behind Leader’s head and double knot it.

Leader groaned behind the gag.

“Okay,” said Whumper. “Because you all seem like good guys, I’m giving you a bonus last chance to tell me what I want to know before I really traumatise you all.”

Leader wasn’t even really there behind the eyes anymore, just trying to focus on breathing, on surviving. He wasn’t even pulling at the cuffs anymore.

“How can he answer?!” Rogue demanded hotly. “You just gagged Leader!”

Whumper’s smile seemed to suck all the coldness from the room. “I’m not asking him questions, Rogue. I’m asking all of you. Now then. We go again.”

This time, Whumper left the chair upright and just yanked Leader’s head back. Then Whumper grabbed the hose and grinned at everyone.

He stuck it on Leader’s nose. After a few seconds it was as if Leader was being electrocuted, his body convulsing violently against the chair to the cries of his teammates.

“Stop!”

“Stop it!”

“WHUMPER!” Rogue screamed, all of them struggling and pulling on their restraints. Whumper didn’t react. They didn’t even look at any of them.

“Stop please!” One of them cried wetly, oh yeah. Good. Tears meant they were almost there. On the verge of telling Whumper what they wanted to hear.

Leader’s hands and ankles were bleeding from how hard he was pulling and straining at the cuffs. Whumper had to commend the team, they don’t think they could withstand seeing someone they love and trust being tortured like this.

“THE WEAPON IS A PERSON!” Whumper pulled the hose away immediately, head swivelling to the confessor. Whumper grinned when they saw it was the little Hero. Oh, Whumper knew she would snap first.

Whumper smiled sweetly while Leader coughed and vomited water from his lungs pathetically. Whumper pulled the gag from Leader’s mouth and more water pooled out, Leader’s throat expanding and vomiting water onto the ground. Well, Whumper wouldn’t be a good interrogator if they let their leverage die.

“Who?” Whumper asked softly.

The entire team was shivering, chests heaving, emotion running heavy through them, as if they were all getting water boarded. Hero’s wide eyes were on Leader who had appeared to go unconscious. Whumper didn’t care.

“Who?” They asked again, more firm this time.

“Let him go.”

“Tell me who or I’ll slit his throat right now, Hero.”

Hero pursed her lips at Whumper, eyes burning.

“Oh,” Whumper said, glancing between Hero and Leader. “Oh… you’re not in love with him, are you? No. That wasn’t loving forlorn glances that was… that was guilt, wasn’t it?”

“Whumper please—” Rogue begged but Whumper held up a hand that effectively silenced them. Hero sniffed, eyes glued on Leader in the chair.

Whumper smiled. “Oh Supervillain is gonna laugh when he realises he had Superhero’s secret weapon locked in the basement this whole time.”

“Henchmen, will you be a dear and check Leader’s pulse for me?”

There was a few seconds of silence, the team waiting with bated breath that turned into a collective sigh when Henchmen said: “still alive.”

“Wonderful,” said Whumper. “We need to bring him upstairs with us—”

“No!” Hero yelled, struggling against her own restraints. “Leave him alone! It’s me you want, take me,” she pleaded, tears streaming freely down her face.

“To make sure he’s okay,” said Whumper pointedly. “When waterboarding goes wrong sometimes people get hypothermia, so we have to be careful. But don’t worry, Hero. You’re coming too.”

[needfantasticstories]

Wind, Water, and Four 

(DAY 25: Waterboarding)

Summary:

In Four's era, Wind meets Jago's gang.

Notes:

HUGE thanks to @somerknights and @estelian-01 and @hotcheetohatredwastaken for BETA reading.

Wind wasn’t often afraid of water. He loved the high seas with its open horizon and kaleidoscope of blues and greens. Not much felt so refreshing as a kiss of saltwater spraying on his face during a hard day of sailing.

But right now, he looked at the simple bucket of water beside him with genuine fear. A towel dangled in the hands of a strange man who stood over Wind. He was tall with short facial hair over his lip and chin, and an obnoxious smirk. Judging by the crooked smile, he was probably just as cocky as Warrior, but certainly not as friendly as the Captain. The man’s grang of rouges sitting on crates around the room muttered in excitement.

“It’s a simple question, kid. You tell me where Link left that sword, and we’ll have no issue. But if you want to make it interesting, I don’t mind playing a few games before you talk.” The gang of low-lifes around him laughed. 

Wind glowered and tried not to let it show how he struggled in his restraints, feeling for the knots that pinned his arms to the short end of the wooden bench.  

“No? You want to play the game? Fine. Let’s get started!” The man threw the towel over Wind’s face. Wind quickly drew in a breath and held it. 

Starting from the top of his head and creeping down came the pressure of water saturating the towel. It trickled down over his nose, then too quickly over his mouth and chin, sealing the dense fabric against his skin. There was no way for air to get through it now, except the tiniest waterlogged straw-suck of air if he was lucky enough for the towel to be old and worn. It did not feel worn. He tried not to think too much about it and held still. He could stay calm. His previous record for holding his breath was two minutes, and his shortest escape was 30 seconds, after all. Nevermind the longer ones, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that.

He picked at the knots, first the left hand, as pressure built in his chest. A drip slid from the rag into his nostril, and he tried not to panic. Hold hold hold . He thought and his nimble fingers worked into the coarse rope. 

One almost free! His face felt hot with pressure. His lungs burned. His heart raced. 

A punch to his gut ruined everything.

He gasped, but only sucked fabric and water in, and he choked as water tickled down his airway. He tried to breathe in again, and coughed out, but nothing came back in except more water. His mind felt washed in white. He arched his back as his legs thrashed and his arms jerked but he couldn't get a single breath, only more and more water dripping and sucked in from his desperate attempts. His neck ached from straining his arms and shoulders, his throat hurt, and his face burned. He’d lost track of which way was up and down, mind spinning even in his blindness. 

His thrashing grew weaker and weaker. 

The rag lifted, and he gulped in the precious air, a spray of water sent into his lungs along with it. His chest heaved like a boat in a storm, up and down. He watched it himself, aching and relieved and afraid.  

“Wasn’t that fun?” The man leered down at him. “Want to play again, or will you tell me where he keeps the blade?”

“What blade?!” Wind gasped. Right hand right hand right hand . The dim wood-paneled room looked fuzzy, all the light glittering too brightly from the water still coating his eyelashes. “Which Link? There are tons of people named Link!”

“What? Kid, there’s only one in this town, and everyone knows him. That bratty son of the Captain, he’s such a show-off it’s hard to miss. And you know that, I bet. You’re traveling with him. I bet he’s pissed you off a few times, eh? Why not give him a little taste of his own medicine? We don’t even want him . Just a sword he took from some shrine in the middle of nowhere. we just want to put it back. We’re like those, uh, what do they call them?”

“Archeologists,” a man in a red bandana supplied. 

“That’s it! Archeologists. That’s us, you see? Interested in ancient things. He’s stolen an old thing, and we just want to put it back. So what is it? Keep playing our game, or will you tell us?”

The man was like Warrior in more ways than one. He had this gang under his thumb, and didn’t take disrespect. “You can take that glass bottle over there and shove i–”

Down came the cloth, but Wind timed his last breath well. He’d be able to focus for a few seconds. He worked his fingers just right when a kick to his stomach threw his fragile plan off track, once again. He gasped, and floundered on the wood bench.

They let him get another taste of fresh air for a brief moment. Right hand right hand right hand . He wished he was as ambidextrous as Twilight. He hooked one finger in the knot and pushed in, wiggling and worming to loosen the knot. 

But all too quickly, his limbs flopped as the white fog clouded his mind again. He felt a strange, almost happy weightlessness. Then the rag was gone, and he gagged on a mouthful of water, spitting it out violently. 

A grumble at his side. He coughed and looked up. His captor was glaring, water all over his cheap cravat and grimey vest. 

A woman nearby laughed. “Oh, Jago doesn’t take being disrespected, lad!” 

Wind gave an exhausted smile of his own, and looked to the man's hip for a promising flash of silver, and he found it.  

Wind lunged. One fist closed over the handle of Jago’s knife, the other he fist swung into the man’s belly. Jago’s smirk shattered as he doubled over. 

Wind sliced the ropes at his feet, grateful the blade proved sharp, cutting them free in only a few slices. 

The ragtag criminals shouted and lunged first for their leader, and then for him, but it was too late. He’d already rolled off the bench and under their feet. 

The door was barred, but he hauled up the crossbeam and shoved it back into the crowd closing in behind him. Those in front fell back under its weight, forcing those behind to dodge around the fallen. Wind ducked under a grasping hand and hurled the door open. Narrowly avoiding the tackle of two scraggly criminals, he danced between the thin groups in the evening crowd, heading for the widest and most crowded roads he could find.

They chased him, shrieks and angry shouts bursting behind him, until at last he skidded into the crowded market. Lamps reflected in a beautiful fountain that he had too little time to appreciate. There were covered stalls everywhere. He ran into an alley near one, then turned and slid under the table of a silk merchant. Footsteps followed into the alley, and gruff curses soon followed, but Wind didn’t wait. He crawled under table after table, and at the end he made a run for the inn. 

“Wind!” Four shouted in relief as he ran into the end where the others had been staying. Twilight and Sky whispered prayers of thanks.

“Where are the others?” Wind asked.

“They’re out looking for you! What happened?” Four demanded. “Why are you all wet?”

Wind huffed, and glared at the irritation in Four’s voice, but it was all hitting him now. He blinked the shine of his eyes away and demanded, “Who in the High Seas is Jago?”

The door slammed open a second time, startling the other patrons who had already been staring at them in nosy interest. Warrior stood in the frame, tense as a bowstring, but when he saw Wind he sprung inside and grabbed the sailor by the shoulders. 

“Thank Farore. Time and I found those hooligans in the market. The knights are rounding them up.”

Four asked, far more gently, “Wind, what happened?”

“I’m fine!” He assured them both, though his coughing fit after made the others only look more worried. “It’s a long story. Can we get food first?”

[breezy-cheezy]

Febuwhump Day 25: Assumed Dead

When all the darkness fades away We had to steal him from his fate So he could see another day

(AKA Trimax AU where Wolfwood got infused with Plant energy when Vash used so much of his power next to his dead body. Took a couple days but he wakes up very confused and very small, because the healing was a bit too potent. Something something giving you the childhood you were robbed of, etc. but being traumatic about it. Good luck getting out of the grave bro.)

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 25 - assumed dead

Downfall timeline Links!!! I care about them so much you have no idea. I’m very normal about them. that’s partially why this is so late heh

Courage of ages explanation

————————————————————

Hue didn’t mind Slate’s world too much really, but fighting monsters after the sun had gone down right next to the edge of a cliff over a deadly drop was not his idea of a good time.

Especially since the monsters kept pushing them towards said deadly drop.

Himself, Brownie, and Hibiscus has been careful to stay plenty far away from the edges of the steep cliff they were fighting atop, but they’d been separated by the fight, and were being pushed towards the drop without the support of the others to lean on.

Hue blocked a swipe from a bokoblin and glanced backwards at where Brownie was fighting, his view of Hibiscus lost to the darkness.

Brownie was closest to the edge of the cliffs, darting around a pair of lizalfos with skilled leaps and swipes. He’d already killed several monsters based on the blood on his sword, but these two were ganging up on him, avoiding his attacks and herding him ever closer to the cliff. Brownie looked like he knew what was happening, but he couldn’t stop it, and his face was set in a look that was equal parts determined and annoyed.

Hue went back to his own fight when the bokoblin swung its spiked club at him, and was completely distracted from his worry for Brownie as the battle took all his concentration. He heard some lizardy-squeals though, and figured Brownie must have at least taken care of those. Maybe the moblin that had been lurking there too?

He suddenly heard a gasp, and turned just in time to see Brownie get hit right in the leg with a moblin’s club. A horrible crack went through the air, and Hue shouted Brownie’s name as he fell backwards, his leg no doubt broken.

Which would have already been bad, but was made worse by the fact that there was nothing but open air for him to fall back on.

Hue caught sight of a flicker of terror on Brownie’s face as his working foot fell out from under him, and snatched an arm out towards the rocks, but he was too late.

He fell straight over the edge.

“Brownie!” Hue shrieked, too far away to do anything as the hero disappeared from view. He charged towards the edge, but the same moblin got in his way, blocking him from getting anywhere near the cliff.

Hue slashed frantically at the monster stopping him, anger speeding him as he wasted precious moments in order to sink his sword through the beast’s chest. But once it was gone he scrambled to the edge where Brownie had fallen, noting with even more panic that Brownie’s bag had been knocked loose, and was lying on the ground near the edge.

Hue skidded to his knees, realizing in some part of his mind that the night had finally gone silent, but the rest was focused solely on squinting into the darkness below, faint moonlight barely helping him see at all.

“Brownie?!” he yelled, frantically craning his neck.

There was no reply.

Hue stared down at the darkness, blood roaring in his ears. He squinted desperately through the shadows, hoping for a sign, a shout, something to prove that Brownie was alive and had survived the fall, but there was nothing. No sign of him at all, apart from his bag that was lying in the dirt next to Hue.

He was gone.

“No,” Hue choked out, shock rooting him in place.

Footsteps sounded behind him and a hand settled on his shoulder, but Hue could only stare over the edge, uncomprehending the words he was pretty sure were being spoken to him as his stomach lurched and thoughts spiraled.

Brownie was gone. He was dead, there was no way he could survive a fall like that without his items or anything, even with how tough he was. His friend, his successor was gone and he should’ve done more, he should’ve gone to help him as soon as he’d realized he was so close to the edge but now he was gone—

“Link, breathe.”

Hue sucked in a gasp at the command, and felt someone lift his hand and place it on something. He numbly realized it was a chest, and someone was telling him to breathe along with him.

He gulped in another breath when the voice prompted him to, and managed to follow along with the steady inhale-exhale he could feel under his palm. The oxygen he hadn’t realized he’d been missing was enough to pull himself out of his spiral at least a little, and look at Hibiscus kneeling in front of him.

“Hib—“ he choked out, and Hibiscus put both hands on his shoulders.

“What happened?” he asked sharply, and Hue shook his head, throat tightening. He couldn’t say it, saying it would only make it more real, and it couldn’t be true. “Hue, what happened, where’s Brownie?”

“He fell,” Hue croaked.

He swallowed thickly, a wave of grief crashing over him, and suddenly it all came out in a rush.

“Brownie fell Hibiscus, a moblin hit him and it sounded like his leg broke, his bag fell off and he tried to grab the edge but he was too far away there’s no way he...”

Hue trailed off and shook his head again, fingers digging into the dirt.

“He’s gone,” he whispered.

Hibiscus’s expression turned to one of horror, and Hue squeezed his eyes shut, blinking back the moisture in the corners.

He and Brownie had only just figured out their connection a short while ago, realizing through a discussion of heroes and events and things that it was an extremely high possibility that Brownie might be the hero who came after Hue. They’d already figured out Hibiscus came before him, but Brownie being in the mix hadn’t even occurred to them before then.

Hue had never been too close to Brownie, and was embarrassed to admit he’d sort of glossed over him when they’d met due to his unassuming appearance. But with the reveal of their connection, he’d made an effort to get to know him more, and discovered that despite how he looked, Brownie was in no way unassuming.

They’d actually become friends, hanging out when they traveled, sometimes fighting together, and Hue found himself truly admiring the older boy, impressed at his resilience and determination.

But now he was gone.

Hue felt Hibiscus’s arm settle over his shoulders, and he didn’t protest when the other hero pulled him in, biting his lip as he stared down at the drop. A tear rolled off his nose and fell into the darkness, and Hue didn’t bother wiping away the ones that came after it.

“Do you think... could we look for him?” Hue managed to get out, but Hibiscus shook his head, his eyes shiny as well.

“Slate said even he doesn’t know how far down it goes,” he said, voice thick with grief. “It’s the very edge of Hyrule, nobody knows how deep it is. Even with a hookshot I don’t know if we could...”

Hibiscus trailed off, but then his voice took on a bit of bewilderment.

“...what is that?”

Hue turned and squinted down through the murk at where Hibiscus was staring, and blinked.

It looked like a tiny star was shining far below them, a soft speck of light that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Hue squinted, looking closer, and watched the light flickered, bobbing a little as it grew. It drew closer as Hue and Hibiscus watched in confused silence, and Hue could make out clear wings fluttering as it approached, a faint green color tinting the edges of the light.

A familiar color of green.

Something almost like hope lurched into his chest, and Hue stretched out a trembling hand towards the tiny ball of light, which landed on his palm with a slightly drunken flutter.

Hibiscus peered over his shoulder at the light, and Hue swallowed, staring at the fairy resting in his hands.

“Brownie?” he whispered.

The fairy let out a weak chime, light flickering, and it hopped out of his palm and spun around a few times, growing brighter. Hue and Hibiscus stared as the light grew, then suddenly went out with a few greenish sparkles.

And then Brownie was stumbling to his feet, looking shaken, but alive.

“Brownie?!” Hue and Hibiscus gasped. The hero in question clutched at his leg, stumbling a bit, but he raised his head and looked at the both of them, a weak smile on his face.

Hue immediately jumped to his feet and slammed into him, squeezing him tight and ignoring the squeak Brownie let out.

“Goddesses Brownie I thought you were dead,” he yelled into his shoulder, tears springing anew. “I thought you’d— I was terrified, don’t do that! How are you alive?!”

“I’m— I’m sorry,” Brownie stuttered, sounding rather surprised at his reaction. “It’s... it’s a spell...”

Hibiscus came up and grabbed them both into a hug before he could continue, shaking his head in what Hue was pretty sure an exasperated manner, but his voice was thick with utter relief when he spoke.

“Brownie, please never do that again,” he whispered, and Brownie nodded.

“I’ll do my best,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed, but he let Hibiscus and Hue continue to hug him, which was probably a good indication of how shaken he actually was.

Hue didn’t say anything more, just buried his head in his shoulder, reassuring himself that his friend was really and truly alive.

[theshiaxartist]

Still before midnight so it still counts!

Wanna help me make a Jak and Daxter Tarot deck?

You can also vote on a big Jak and Daxter related poll!

[silvrash-797]

@webhead3345 here's the next part of your ask!

Roll for stealth... (pt 2)

Day 16+24: came back wrong/doing this because I care about you

There are injuries mentioned close to the end of the fic, but nothing graphic

Part 1 | Part 3

Read on ao3

I left him. I left him, I left him, I left him! The thought pounded through Twilight's brain in time with the thud of his paws against the shifting sands. Against his better judgment, he had left his Cub surrounded by assassins who wanted nothing more than his death to escort a fully-trained Gerudo warrior home. He knew his wild Cub was strong and resourceful, but he’d also seen how many Yiga were there.

The longer they took to get help, the less likely it was that his Cub would survive this encounter.

As soon as Twilight was sure Buliara was on her way safely back to Gerudo town with Link's sand seal, he tapped into the Goddess’s magic that allowed him to teleport without Midna's help, letting it pull him back to the Daqo Chisay shrine.

He shook out his coat and turned the Twili magic of his shadow crystal away from his body with a thought, grateful the Goddess let him shift back to Hylian. He truly thought he’d be stuck as a wolf until his Cub's journey was complete – she must understand how much he cares for the kid.

Now he just had to pray to Ordona and any other god who would listen that Riju would allow a meeting. He didn’t have a way to sneak into town like his Cub did.

Trudging to the main gate, Twilight stopped just before the pair of Gerudo guards could cross their spears before him.

“No voe are allowed into town!” the guard on the left warned. “Leave!”

Twilight held up his hands and stepped back a pace, not wanting to antagonize the warriors. “I understand,” he reassured them, “but I must request an audience with Lady Riju, it’s urgent.”

The guards’ eyes narrowed behind their masks; Twilight could sense the time they were losing slipping through his fingers like the sand at his feet.

“Please, I am not Yiga. I come bearing news of the Hero, Link.”

Shock passed briefly across their faces, then one nodded, turning into town. The other guard kept her spear pointed at him, eyes never leaving his. Twilight tried not to fidget, but his nerves were straining raw with each second that passed.

Finally, the guard returned, declaring, “The Chief will meet you at the sand seal rally south of town. The guards at that entrance have been warned to keep an eye on you. Make no attempts to enter town, and your audience will be granted.”

Twilight couldn’t help his relieved sigh. One step closer. Hold on, Cub. “Thank you,” he breathed, turning to make his way around town as fast as he comfortably could on two legs. He wanted to shift back, but there were too many eyes on him. He’d have to remain Hylian for now.

Riju was already waiting at the rally when he arrived. “Sav'otta,” she greeted. “You are the Hylian voe who requested an audience?”

“I am, Lady Riju.”

“And you have news about Link?” She was hiding it well, but Twilight could sense she was nervous. “I saw him but half a day ago. What news could you possibly have?”

How best to explain…he held up his left hand, where the mark of the Triforce shone softly. “I am Link, the Hero of Twilight from an age long past, sent here by Hylia to help Link with his journey. I…am also the wolf that went with him, to rescue Buliara.”

Riju's eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”

Twilight flinched, remembering calls of monster from his loved ones during his quest. It’s okay, he told himself, she needs to know, needs to trust. I’m doing this because I care for him, she’s already seen my wolf form and is fine with it. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the Twili magic close, crouching as it washed over him. As his form settled, he sat on his haunches, ears pricked, panting in what he hoped was a friendly way.

Riju breathed an astonished laugh, coming closer and running her hand through the fur at his neck. “You truly are his Wolfie!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for helping him.”

Twilight nodded, relieved, then stepped away to shift back.

As he stood, Riju’s face turned serious again. “What news do you have, Link, Hero of Twilight?”

“We found Buliara without incident, but were surrounded by Yiga before we could compete our escape,” he explained, pacing as he retold the tale. “Link…stayed behind, sending Buliara and me ahead. She’s on her way with Link's sand seal, but I fear what may have happened to Link, since he hasn’t arrived at the shrine.”

He faced the Chief, unable to help the pleading in his voice. “Please, Lady Riju. He’s like family to me; I have to go back for him, but I can’t do it alone.”

Moment of truth. “Will you lend me some of your warriors to go bring him back?”

Riju gazed at him for a long moment, then smiled and touched his arm. “Link tamed Vah Naboris and earned the trust of every warrior here. I’m certain many would go with you. Meet us by the northwestern gate in an hour.”

Twilight could have wept with gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmured huskily. Riju smiled at him, then turned back to town. Please, Cub, he thought, please be okay.

Twilight paced through the sand at the northwestern gate, too wound up to rest. Every moment that passed burned at his soul, tempered only by the relief that washed over him as his keen ears picked up the sound of a veritable army approaching from within the town.

Riju led the way, nearly every able-bodied Gerudo warrior – all armed to the teeth – following behind. She stopped a few paces from him, hands on her hips as she grinned up at him. “I told you many would join us.”

The warriors spread out in ranks, all arrayed towards a towering Gerudo woman dressed in the armor of a captain. Twilight knew her from previous visits to the town – Captain Teake.

She stepped out to the fore of the army, raising her voice to the assembled troops. “For too long, the Yiga have threatened our people!” she shouted, “For too long, we have let them grow and fester! They captured Barta and stole our Thunder Helm. They kidnapped Buliara and held her hostage. Now, they have captured our Hero! This. Cannot. Stand!”

The assembled warriors roared in agreement, banging weapons on shields.

“It is a long march to Karusa Valley, but we will not be stopped! We march to eliminate the Yiga threat and rescue the Hero Link! May the Heroines grant us the spirit and endurance to succeed!”

This time Twilight joined the shouts of the warriors as they finally stepped out. Hold on Cub! We’re coming!

-----

The trek through the desert took twelve long, grueling hours at a quick march, but no one complained. They’d crossed paths with Buliara early in the march and sent her back to oversee protection of the town. Cooling elixirs had been passed around at about the same time, so Twilight was comfortable despite the heat and his many layers. He took vicious pride in eliminating every enemy that came in their path.

Now, as the twilight turned slowly to night, they stood at the arched entryway to the Yiga's hideout.

Riju and Captain Teake turned to Twilight as the warriors gathered around. “You have the most recent experience with this place,” Riju said, “I assume you have an idea where they may be holding Link?”

Twilight nodded, nervous energy building the closer they came to finding his Cub.

“Then lead the way.”

Teake turned to the warriors. “This is not a stealth mission. We will eliminate every Yiga who gets in our way. We follow the Hero of Twilight!”

It was harder to track scents as a Hylian, but he did retain many of his enhanced senses regardless of his form. He led the way through the hideout, past Barta's old cell, down into the prisons where they’d found Buliara, listening intently for the rustle of fabric and paper, trying to smell anything beyond the overwhelming perfume of mighty bananas.

The tang of relatively fresh Hylian blood snagged his attention as they passed one of the cells and the breath froze in his chest. Inside the dim cell he could see drops of blood scattered along the walls and floor, mingled with the crisp-pine-yellow-sunrise scent he’d come to associate with his Cub, although that was soured by fear and pain.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest and his lip curled. They had hurt his Cub! The army had yet to encounter a single Yiga soldier, and his Cub was no longer here. It didn’t bode well.

“Twilight?” Riju touched his arm; it took everything in him to not snap at her. “What’s wrong? Why have you stopped?”

“He was here,” he snarled, “He was here and they hurt him.”

A faint scream reached his ears from deeper in the base, and his heart stuttered. No, please…

He was running before he knew it. He didn’t even care if the Gerudo warriors were behind him. His Cub’s scent was getting stronger, as was the scent of blood. A pained screech rent the air, guiding Twilight on. His heart pounded fit to burst, but he refused to stop. I can’t stop now, not when I’m so close!

The screams stopped. Twilight redoubled his pace, tears pricking his eyes. No, no, nonono!

Twilight chased the freshening scent of his Cub's blood – left, right, around the corner, through the door, down the hallway, another right I’m so close! – liquid fear dripping down his spine as the sounds of someone choking and coughing reached his ears. The hallway he was in ended abruptly at what appeared to be an open-air arena.

The garish red of Yiga jumpsuits were everywhere, each laughing and pointing at something further into the arena. Twilight craned his neck, trying to see through the ocean of masks and topknots, looking towards the focal point.

His heart slammed into his boots, shattering on the dusty ground.

“CUB!!” Fueled by fear and desperation, Twilight plowed through the crowds of Yiga soldiers, the spearhead leading the charge of the attacking Gerudo warriors. He only had eyes for the poor, bloody boy strapped tightly to a stone table, stripped to his underclothes, and the Yiga that stood over his head, pouring a thin stream of water over his Cub’s mouth and nose.

Twilight’s sword jumped to his hand in mere moments, and he’d struck down the surrounding Yiga assassins in a few moments more.

Frantic with worry, he pulled the soaked cloth from Link's face. Dull, frightened eyes stared back at him for a few seconds before the boy fell unconscious.

Twilight wasted no time pulling a dagger from his boot, slicing through the ropes and leather that bound his Cub. As he cut the restraints, he checked for injuries, horrified at the burns and deep lacerations covering nearly every inch of exposed skin.

It wasn’t until the last cuff was cut through that he realized Link hadn’t taken a breath.

Swiftly, Twilight turned the young hero onto his side, intending to hit his back to clear any water from his lungs. He froze as he saw the damage to his Cub’s back. There would be no good way to get Link breathing again, not without hurting him more.

Anguish and indecision roiled inside Twilight, and for one eternal moment he was afraid he’d faint under the weight of the choice on his shoulders. His Cub still wasn’t breathing. He’d have to do something.

A watery blue light began to leak from Link's deepest wounds. Spectral flames encircled his prone form. Twilight made an aborted move towards the kid, but took a step back, watching fearfully as the flames burned brighter.

The only places he hadn’t been able to follow Link into were the shrines and the Divine Beasts. He’d spent the days the kid was inside pacing, worrying, and trying to hunt to take his mind off the worrying. He never knew exactly what happened inside, only that his Cub came out stronger, smarter, faster. His Cub had mentioned gifts from the former Champions, but hadn’t used them, to his knowledge. He could only pray that this light was somehow one of them.

The faintest outline of a Zora woman appeared in the air above his Cub. Slowly, she ran her hands down the length of his battered body. As they passed, bleeding stopped, wounds knit together, and color returned to the kid's face. Her hands came back to hover over his chest, and Link choked on a gasp as water was forced from his lungs. The Zora's hands stayed firmly in place as Link coughed, a deep focus on her face.

Finally, Link took a deep, clear, painless breath, and Twilight found his own breath coming easier. His Cub would be okay.

The Zora woman pressed her lips to the young hero's forehead, and a sweet, ghostly voice echoed around them. “It has been my pleasure.”

She looked up, a small smile on her face as she caught Twilight's eye. She gave him a tiny, respectful nod before fading away.

Twilight watched his Cub breathe as the Gerudo warriors formed a protective circle around the table. Most of the fighting was done, but he could still hear a few stubborn blademasters.

Particles of malice – Twilight hadn’t known there was meant to be a blood moon tonight – began their ponderous journey towards the sky as Link's eyes finally opened. The kid gave a frightened cry when he realized where he was, but froze, panting, when he noticed he’d been healed.

Twilight was sure there was still some mental healing that needed to happen, though.

The Cub looked around warily, rising to a crouch as he surveyed the ring of warriors around him. His fingers hovered near his right hip as if to grab his slate; he paled when the only thing that met his searching fingertips was the fabric of his shorts.

Wide, wild eyes made another complete circuit of the warriors before they settled on Riju, who’d stepped up next to Twilight. “Riju?” Link whispered, voice ragged from stress.

Twilight heard the smile in her voice as she responded. “Yes, Link, it’s me.”

“I don’t…how…who…?” Link stammered, trembling as the dark magic of the imminent blood moon brought a shadow to his eyes.

Twilight could almost see the recent memories slotting themselves into place in his Cub’s head. He rushed forward to catch the kid as he wavered, shock and stress and exhaustion in every line of his body.

Link's eyelids fluttered as he shivered in Twilight’s grasp. Carefully, tenderly, he pulled the wolf pelt from his shoulders and wrapped it around the younger hero, who tangled his fingers in the fur and immediately settled, sighing.

Link was asleep before Twilight stood up completely, arms wrapped protectively around his Cub.

Twilight turned to Riju. “We need to find his slate and his other gear,” he said, eyeing the reddening sky, “and we need to get away from this place.”

“We already have a team in the base searching,” she confirmed. “They should be just about done.”

With the last blademaster finally driven away, the Gerudo warriors formed a protective circle around Twilight and his Cub as they swiftly made their way back through the base. They met the search party just past the cells, and Twilight placed the slate and the kid's clothes in his own pouch for safekeeping.

The blood moon reached its peak as the last warrior descended the small cliff south of the base. Malice filled the air, thick enough to choke King Bulbin, and Twilight could feel it trying to make him shift back to a wolf as Hylia's influence faded.

Twilight gritted his teeth, mentally shoving the dark magic away until the calamitous influence receded. He could not afford to be a wolf right now.

They continued through the sand until they made it to open desert, then stopped to rest for what remained of the night. Between the long march, the battle, and the Blood Moon, everyone was ready to rest, even if it was only for a few hours.

Twilight curled protectively around his Cub, refusing to let the boy out of his arms after everything the kid had gone through. They slept through the night without movement, both exhausted, and Twilight woke with the heat of the rising sun. Link still slept on.

A quick breakfast and cooling elixirs were distributed by the warriors, then they resumed their march.

Link finally woke as noon approached. Twilight wouldn’t have known were it not for the way the boy stiffened in his arms. He peered through the fur of his pelt, catching the bright, wild eyes of his Cub as they glared around.

“Where am I? Who are you?” Link croaked, voice thick with sleep and distrust.

“Hush, Cub,” Twilight soothed. He shifted the pelt away from the young hero's face so he could see more clearly. “You’re with friends, see? We’re headed back to Gerudo town.”

Link relaxed minutely as he saw familiar faces among the Gerudo warriors. “What’s a Hylian voe doing with all these Gerudo, anyway?” he asked, fingers idly twisting the fur of the pelt. He paused, though, and his gaze grew distracted. “This fur…I thought Wolfie was here. I could’ve sworn I felt him when…where is he?”

Twilight tried to answer all the kid’s questions without overwhelming him. “I helped the Gerudo rescue you from the Yiga. The pelt is mine – it’s all we had to cover you with. And Wolfie…” he grimaced, letting out a heavy breath to steel himself before he admitted, “I’m actually Wolfie.”

Link stared at him, incomprehension clear on his face. “No…you’re wrong. There’s no way Wolfie's actually Hylian. He is definitely a wolf – I sent a wolf away with Buliara! How could he come back as…?”

“Cub, Cub, shhh!” Twilight tightened his hold around the fretting hero before he could dump himself onto the burning sand. “Look at my tattoos! Look into my eyes! What do you see?”

Link stilled, staring as a dozen conflicting emotions flickered across his features. “They match…” he whispered.

Distrust still shone on Link's features, so Twilight pulled out his next piece of evidence. “We were just coming out of the Rabella wetlands when Riju called you on your slate. I helped you take down that black hinox!”

Belief flickered behind the Champion's eyes, but it was immediately chased by hurt and betrayal. “But…if Wolfie's always been Hylian…why didn’t you…?”

“Change back?” Twilight asked. Link nodded. “Until now, Hylia wouldn’t let me. I tried, believe me.”

“What changed?”

Twilight chuckled humorlessly. “You did, Cub. You sent me away with Buliara, instead of letting me stay to help, as she had intended.

“The only reason we could rescue you in time is because I teleported back to Gerudo town as soon as I knew Buliara would be safe. Hylia allowed me to shift back to get the help you needed.”

Twilight watched the Cub ponder this information as the army stopped for lunch. He carefully set the younger hero on his feet and returned the Sheikah slate, laughing to himself as the Cub immediately changed into more heat-appropriate gear.

Link returned the pelt, watching with a small smirk as Twilight gratefully resettled it on his shoulders. “So, what do I call you while you’re Hylian?”

Twilight grinned. “Well, my name is also Link, but you can just call me Twilight.”

[arecaceae175]

Febuwhump Day 25: Presumed Dead (Hyrule)

AO3 link. Warnings: blood, injury, torture, captivity, loss of consciousness, thoughts of death and grief. This one's a bit rough.

Continuation of Day 20: Knife Wound (Sky) for @wildsage00. Happy birthday my friend!!!! I hope you enjoy!!! Or that you feel pain, either way >:)

Part 2/5. Part 1. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.

The roars of the monsters were nearly deafening. There were dozens, all growling and screeching and making as much noise as possible.

“Sky? Are you with us?” 

“Yeah… I’m awake.”

“You need to tell us what happened.”

Hyrule struggled against the binds around his wrists and ankles. The ropes were all pulled taut, stretching each appendage to a separate corner of a large stone slab. 

“They ambushed us. They came out of nowhere. It was almost like…”

“What?”

“It was almost like they were waiting for us.”

His head throbbed viciously. Every noise sent a spike of pain through his skull. The light from the torches was blinding, even as little as there was. The side of his face was slick with blood.

“They were smart. They separated us, first thing. Kept pushing him farther and farther away.”

“How did they know to do that?”

“And why?”

It seemed only the strongest monsters were allowed to approach him. They wanted to make it last, Hyrule guessed. They were enjoying themselves. Of the few he injured in the fight, they all bled black. Normal monsters had never been able to get him, but the intelligence of the infected monsters continued to increase.

“There were too many. There were just enough focused on me to keep me away from Hyrule. They overwhelmed him. There’s no way he could have fought them all off himself. If I had been faster, maybe-”

“None of that. There were too many for anyone. Those thoughts won’t help Hyrule.”

A moblin stepped up to the slab, a cleaved sword in its hand. Hyrule tried to squirm away, but the ropes were too tight. The moblin screeched, spit flying wildly from its mouth, then heaved the sword down into Hyrule’s thigh. 

He screamed. 

“They didn’t hurt him, they just knocked him out. Not a single drop of blood, it didn’t make any sense. They had the weaponry, but they only used clubs on him. As soon as they were sure I wouldn’t follow, they took him and left.”

Blood gushed from his thigh. The pain was muted, indistinguishable from the countless other wounds on his body. Hyrule desperately tried to look away, but the ropes around his throat constricted with every movement. He watched the blood trickle down the stone slab, splashing into the basin below the stone. It was slowly filling. 

“I might know where they took him. He told me once, about… We need to hurry.”

“I can lead us to where they took him. We can go from there.”

“You’re barely on your feet.”

“I can’t sit here while he’s in danger. There’s no time to argue.”

The next strike had his vision darkening. Hyrule grasped to the last strings of consciousness as hard as he could, but he felt himself slipping. Images flashed through his weary mind: burning fields as Ganon retook his empire, innocent people being slain in their homes, monsters running wild through towns.

The other heroes, his brothers, finding his body. Legend falling to his knees, too jaded to shed a tear. Wind having to watch another life be taken, a little more of his youthful innocence slipping from his eyes. Wild being forced to grieve yet another friend. Sky, overcome with guilt. 

“I’m sorry,” Hyrule muttered, and his eyes slid shut.

“We’ll find him, Sky. We’ll get him back.”

[keldrakey]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Merlin (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Hunith (Merlin), Will (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin) Additional Tags: Febuwhump 2024, Immortality, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Merlin Dies (Merlin), alot, But keeps coming back, Temporary Character Death, Poor Merlin (Merlin), Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), merlin whump, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Broken Bones, Blood and Injury, the curse of immortality Series: Part 23 of Febuwhump 2024, Part 137 of Merlin Summary:

Merlin discovers his immortality at a young age, it gets more curse like the longer hes in Camelot's walls

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Febuwhump 25: The Water Forgets

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone Summary: Matthias is a trained soldier, but this is a lot to endure for anyone. Warnings: Waterboarding, torture, and threats of death Word Count: 1,203 Ship(s): Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik

Archive link!

Matthias gasped for breath as the fingers tied into the back of his hair yanked him up. He struggled from side to side, trying to shake the freezing cold droplets of water from his form. It was futile and he knew it, there was no way that he was going to be able to move very far when his hands were bound to the back of a chair. Still, the slippery feeling of droplets of water rushing down his freezing skin was unbearable and he had to get it off of him.

The primal beast that had always remained awake inside of him was roaring for him to escape, but he couldn’t. His legs were bound to the chair the same way that his arms would, keeping his body able to move up and down but not able to stretch away from anything. His bindings were made out of metal, the same kind that he had once used for Grisha, so he was going to be completely unable to wear it down. He was also so very tired, they had been at this for hours at this point.

His mind was deprived of the oxygen that it needed every time that his head was dunked down into the water in front of him. Not only did it awaken the survival instinct that everyone got when their nose and throat filled with water, but it reminded him of the shipwreck where he had first been separated from his brethren. Every time that the water rushed into his ears and swallowed his eyes he could feel the beating of the waves and Nina’s hands clawing at his body. By the time that the full hour passed, he could almost feel the warmth of her magic slithering through his body to warm him.

Matthias was well aware that she wasn’t here, and he was glad for it. If this was something that they were going to do to a man that had once been one of their own, that had been the best of them all, then what had they done to the Grisha? Matthias had never made himself care back when he was an active member of the Druskelle instead of a deserter to his country and people. He had thought that people like his beloved wife and close friends were monsters, abominations against his god and the natural world. He hadn’t cared what had happened to them because they deserved any punishment that could be thought up for their crime of having been born different.

He was ashamed of what he had done before, but he was paying for his sins now. He knew that what he had done was actually wrong. He had put people to death when they had committed no real crime. He had murdered and hurt and robbed. He deserved to be punished, and this was the best irony that Djel could summon for him.

The fingers on the back of his head tightened. He took in another big breath to prepare for the next bout under water. If they kept going then eventually, the Druskelle were going to notice what he was doing. After the first half hour he had learned that if he took a breath before he went under and then released it while he was submerged, it made it appear like he was still struggling. He had yet to perfect the balance between stillness and movement to convince them he was struggling, but he was at least making part of the experience bearable. He supposed that did make it less of a punishment.

That didn’t really matter to him, not when he knew that he had to get back to Nina as soon as he could. He had to make sure that she and their family hadn’t been hurt. He couldn’t bear the thought of it, not even while he was hacking up the water that had flooded into his lungs.

Instead of submerging him back into the bucket of ice and water in front of him, the hand released and he was free to slump back into his chair. Matthias was confused for only a moment, before he saw that the door to the left side of him opened to the man he had once thought of as a father. 

Jarl Brum was a the biggest traitor that Matthias had ever faced in his life. He had the audacity to walk into the torture chamber where Matthias had been kept for days, looking just as he had the day that so many of his brethren had been lost to the waves simply because he wanted to push their boat faster than it should have gone.

“Where are the rest of your crew?” he asked. 

“I would never tell you.”

“Dunk him again,” Jarl said, as if he was doing something as asinine as deciding what he wanted for dinner instead of commanding one of his grunts to waterboard the boy he had raised from nine to seventeen. Matthias didn’t know how he hadn’t seen this before, the flagrant disregard for every other person in the entire world other than him. It was there and clear in front of his face, even as his eyes were once again burning with the tiny pinpricks of water while he tried to shut his lids.

He rose from the water and did the same thing he had every time before. He shook his head, gasping for the air that he was deprived of. This time, instead of fingers digging into his scalp, he felt the moving down the back of his head.

“You know that you are a traitor to your god and people, Matthias. You have no right to get to keep your hair, a symbol of your devotion to Djel. I’d be willing to change my mind if you simply tell me where the rest of these so called Crows are. If you give them all up to me at the same time, I will even let those pesky half breed children of yours live,” Jarl said, pacing around the bucket and Matthias like this was a training session.

“You can kill me before I will tell you anything,” he growled immediately. He didn’t even have to think about it. He would never give up any of the Crows for any amount of money or even his own life. Beyond that, there was no amount of drug, pain, or torture in the entire world that would make him give Jarl Brum the location of his wife and their children.

The man gave a single nod of his head and Matthias felt the knife slash through his long locks. He had worked for so long to get them back to what they were, to worship Djel in the way that he deserved instead of the bastardized way that the Druskelle did. It was gone now, sacrificed for his love the same way that it had been the first time. 

He would mourn it, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep his family safe against everything else. They could mutilate his body and fill his lungs with water but he would never give up his friends and family.

[baubeautyandthegeek]

For in his heart, as in thy stream,//Her image deeply lies-//His heart which trembles at the beam//Of her soul-searching eyes. – Tamerlane Usher/Morella Usher, Tamerlane Usher/Verna, Tamerlane Usher/William ‘BillT’ Wilson (Past), Tamerlane Usher/Frederick Usher (Past, Non-Con), Tamerlane Usher & Arthur Pym.

A/N: Day 25 for @febuwhump TW: Sibling abuse/rape hinted.

Waterboarding. Tamerlane knows she should hate the sight of her brother locked in place and in Pym’s ‘tender mercies’, she would perhaps care more had the man not used and abused her for decades, traumatising her enough she all but scrambles across the room to get away from even Bill, who usually looks at her like she’s perfect. She’s standing, now, with Morella, Frederick’s ‘wife’ who he barely talks to now they have Lenore. Morella who, despite deep sadness, understands Tamerlane completely. Morella’s touch is gentle, of course, their hands entwined across Tamerlane’s body, her other, the left, hand nestled gently into copper hair, stroking soft strands of hair and soothing her even as Frederick splutters, coughs and retches. Arthur Pym had answered a call earlier that night, BillT, the fitness dork himself, calling for help. Tamerlane, he said, was breaking apart. Bruised and bloodied and he had been working all day. Then came the name, echoing with anger even as Bill packs his things, leaving Tamerlane a tender note, his ring and his key. She can’t handle men and he won’t make her suffer, not for a second. “Frederick. All she’ll say is Frederick.” So now Frederick drowns, waterboarding is working, then Pym asks again, forcing himself to sound calm despite the deep pit of rage inside. He cannot let Frederick see he’s chosen Tamerlane’s side, not yet. “I saw the bruises… the blood… What did you do to her Frederick?” Truth, truth spills and Morrie’s grip tightens a little when Tamerlane chokes out a sob, burrowing herself into Morrie, her breathing rough, the panic attack held at bay only by Morella’s next words. “You fucking asshole. Hit me, it’s fine, hell, it’s expected. I am your wife but to hit, to abuse Tamerlane…. I want a divorce. I want you dead, Frederick Usher.” Arthur hesitates, he shouldn’t keep waterboarding now they have the truth. His hand flexes, then he twitches the switch, watching Frederick choke, his own voice full of gravel. “You are so much your father’s son. I can fix that though, tonight.” It's only later, weeks later, he comes face to face with the Raven, drinks in the curl of her smile and the slow incline of her head. No Ushers will die, not by her hands, but Freddie is gone and Roderick is on his way out. Alone.

[serickswrites]

Assumptions

Warnings: presumed dead, unclear character status, potential drowning

“NOOOOO!” Caretaker screamed as they rushed forward. They had to get to Whumpee. 

Arms wrapped around Caretaker, pulling them, holding them tightly. “LET ME GO!” They roared. “WHUMPEE! WHUMPEE!”

“Caretaker, Caretaker, stop,” Teammate Two’s voice was in their ear. A voice filled with sorrow and regret. 

“WHUMPEE NEEDS ME! LET GO!” Caretaker shoved against Teammate Two, but Teammate Two wrapped their arms tighter around Caretaker. 

“Whumpee is gone, Caretaker. Please.” Caretaker could hear the tears in Teammate Two’s voice. But they couldn’t believe it. 

“No. No. No. They can’t. WHUMPEE!” Caretaker shouted over the cliff’s edge. They were so far, but so close. Surely Whumpee was just there. 

When Whumper had shoved Whumpee towards the edge, Caretaker had stopped breathing. When Whumpee fought back, kicking and throwing punches, Caretaker hoped. And when Whumper tackled Whumpee towards the edge of the cliff, giving one final shove as Whumpee pulled Whumper over the cliff side with them, Caretaker’s heart stopped. 

“Caretaker, Caretaker, please. I am going to let you go. But you have to promise to not go after them. Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

Caretaker reluctantly stilled. They had to get to Whumpee. And the only way was if Teammate Two let them go. As soon as Teammate Two released their grip, Caretaker surged forward. Whumpee needed them. “Caretaker, please!” Teammate One’s hand closed around their shoulder. 

“Let me go!” Caretaker shrieked as they windmilled their arm. 

Teammate One caught their fist, pulling them into a tight bear hug. “I want this to not be real, too. I want Whumpee to be ok, too. But you and I both know that nobody could have survived going over that cliff.”

“They...they...they can swim.” Caretaker’s words were slowing down. Despair began to creep in. 

“Even,” Teammate One swallowed audibly, “even if they did manage to not die on impact once they hit the water, Caretaker there’s no way. No way they would have been conscious. Whumpee is gone.”

Gone to a watery grave that Caretaker cannot go to. Caretaker’s knees gave out, Teammate One holding them tighter. “I...I..I was right here. We were right here,” Caretaker sobbed into Teammate One’s chest. 

“I know. I know.”

But it wasn’t enough. None of it was enough. Whumpee was gone and Caretaker had done nothing to stop it. 

[chrysochroma]

Make a mercy out of me

@febuwhump 2024: Day 25: ALT 5: cpr

@badthingshappenbingo: cpr (card at the end)

Rating: Teen And Up

Words: 200

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Warnings: Drowning, Burns, Crying

This is based on @amethystfairy1's Traveling Thieves AU, particularly the works centered around Tango and Zed. I highly recommend it!!

read on Ao3

Tango was sitting on the driver’s bench next to Zedaph, gripping the wood so hard his knuckles matched the foaming water below him. Below the wood planks barely wide enough to fit their wagon, rushing white peaks of frothing water screamed through the canyon.

Then a crack cut through the noise. Then he was falling. Cool air rushed around him as his hands scrambled for purchase on anything, his mind frozen. Then he plunged into the water.

His skin, his lungs, his entire body screamed as the water invaded his system, drowning it in slippery, burning ice. It was too slick to latch onto, but overwhelmed him nonetheless, replacing every spark of oxygen inside him, until he felt a hand grab his wrist.

Zedaph dragged Tango out of the water and laid him down on the shore, his heart aching at the deep purple burns covering Tango’s skin. He interlocked his hands and positioned them over Tango’s heart, then pushed, with a rhythm much steadier than his own heartbeat, apologizing all the time. With each compression, both of them grew more hurt, until finally, Tango started to cough. Zedaph almost collapsed into Tango, tears flowing freely. “I’m so sorry, Tango.”