#whumprilday5

[lingeringmirth]

don't talk me out of this

Stranger Things | Platonic Stobin | Rating: T | Words: 674 | Angst, Omegaverse, Self-sacrifice, Emotional hurt.

Written for @whumpril day 5. reckless | Also here on AO3.

Steve’s movements were jerky, his voice clipped as he spoke. ‘You can’t talk me out of it, Robbie, so don’t even bother trying.’ He flung his backpack over his back, his trusty nail bat sticking out of it, visible over his back.

Robin hated seeing him like this, shut off and determined to just push on because he thought no-one else couldn’t possibly achieve what he was setting out to do. He often acted almost like he was expendable, taking the beating (and worse) from the Russians so she didn’t need to, always protecting everyone at his own expense.

Why he wasn’t doing it now frightened her, because it meant that he was lost to his instincts, that his need to go back and find Eddie was clouding his judgment. Because right now Steve’s instincts should have been screaming at him to keep himself safe, to keep them safe.

She’d heard what he’d said loud and clear, but she couldn’t not say something, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself afterwards if something did happen, and something likely would, because she had lost her belief in happy endings. Nothing good could come from going back to the Upside Down, they should leave well enough alone unless something came out of there. But she had to try and make Steve see sense first, no matter what he’d said. So she faced him, hands crossed and face serious.

‘Would Eddie want you to risk yourself like this?’

Steve snarled at her, more than half feral, his scent so mixed her nose couldn’t make heads nor tails out of it, it had been like that ever since...

‘He’s my mate and he’s alive down there!’ Steve’s scent spiked acrid with distress, through everything else. ‘We--- I left him there. He was alive and I left him there, Robs.’ His hand settled on his midsection, rubbing over the roundness there restlessly.

Robin didn’t think he’d ever heard him sound so broken. She knew that what he was saying was the absolute truth, Eddie’s mating mark was still clearly visible on Steve’s neck as the day he’d put it there and she knew he’d sense if he was gone. But he was also pregnant and more than a little bit hormonal, with the anxiety of Eddie being lost somewhere in the Upside Down it wasn’t a good combination.

‘But you can’t, you’re…’ she gestured her hand over all of him. She didn’t say that it was because of it all that Eddie had gotten left behind, because they’d needed to get Steve away, injured as he’d been, that Eddie had screamed at them to go, that he’d hold the demobats off. Steve had screamed harder as they’d dragged him away from his alpha, had snarled and raved and fought to get back to him… had needed to be sedated for his stay at the hospital just so they didn’t need to physically restrain him.

‘I know I am and it doesn’t…’ Steve looked away from her face and down, rubbed at his pregnant stomach, the contrast of it and the nailbat at his back was stark. He looked back up and at her, his face set, she knew there was no convincing him otherwise. ‘I’d rather we all die in the attempt than having to live without him knowing that I might have been able to save him.’

She swallowed, hoping her face didn’t give anything away. It was last resort time. ‘Alright. I don’t agree with you, but I guess I can’t stop you.’ She was pressing down the talk-button on the walkie in her hands, hoping that this worked. ‘I’m coming with you and we can try and get him.’

Steve didn’t notice her deception, just fussed with the rest of his preparations as she hoped it worked and that Steve would forgive her, eventually.

His eyes as he turned to look at her when Dustin jabbed the sedative into his neck once they were walking out the door would haunt Robin for years to come.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 5 -Recklessness

Mariano takes calculated risks, (un)fortunately for everyone, he's very good at math

TWs: hospital setting, gunshot wound mention (it's all the aftermath though), self-sacrifice

“What the fuck was that?” Dimitri's voice rang off the pastel hospital room walls as he stormed in. His makeup had long been washed away, likely by whatever shower he'd taken to get Mariano's blood off of him. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

Mariano blinked at him. The painkillers weren't helping the fog of blood loss, which only tangled and tripped up his attempt to process Dimitri's fury even more. “I…what?”

“This! You always wind up here in a hospital bed.” Dimitri stormed forward, grabbing the front of Mariano’s hospital gown. 

“Things happen sometimes–”

Dimitri yanked Mariano up higher, and Mariano gasped as lightning shot through his hip. “Shut the fuck up. You wind up here because you always throw yourself into danger.” Their noses were almost touching.

Mariano snarled back, the fog in his mind parting for the instinctive, defensive anger that flared up bright and venomous. “I do that because it’s my job.” 

Dimitri dropped him, as though suddenly the thin, lavender gown was made of razor wire. Mariano couldn’t quite read his expression: lip curling just so, brown eyebrows scrunched together, eyes piercing but hurt. “What?” He sounded breathless, like Mariano had just punched him.

“What do you mean, what?” Mariano said, agitation still electric in his voice. “I’m the lamb, it’s my job to take the injuries and keep you safe.”

“That–Marito, that hasn’t been your job since we were war mages.” Dimitri shot back. Mariano suddenly realized that that expression was him being appalled. “That hasn’t been–is that why you’ve been so stupid?”

“Why wouldn’t it still be my job? It’s what I was trained for, it's what works. It’s–you would’ve died if I hadn’t taken the bullet. It got me in the hip, but that’s where your head was.“ Mariano’s voice broke. “Why wouldn’t I want to keep you safe from that–any of you?”

Dimitri’s expression softened, and his hands were more careful this time when he cupped Mariano’s face. “No, Marito. We don’t want to see you get hurt like this. We don’t…I thought you knew. We all thought you knew that we don’t expect you to do this sort of thing anymore.”

All the tension drained from Mariano, and he felt something that wasn’t quite grief swell in his chest. “...Oh.” He tried again, tried to say anything. “I…I didn’t think it was mean or anything, that’s just…I mean, it’s what I’m good at–”

“Shh.” Dimitri said, thumbs sliding along Mariano’s cheeks. “You are. You were the best lamb we ever had. You’re good at more than that, though. So don’t do that again, okay?”

Mariano’s hands raised to cover Dimitri’s. He swallowed before speaking again. “I…I can’t promise that. Not when today could happen again.” 

“Then if today happens again, at least let me take care of you afterwards. Now,” He straightened up, going over to the blinds. “Let me close these, you hit your head pretty hard when you fell.”  

@whumperofworlds @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125 @lektric-whump @cyberwhumper @bxtterflystxtches

[pandoramoments]

Tech fell to his knees as he reached Wrecker, taking a moment to push the fear from his mind to deal with later. Wrecker was often reckless with his own safety, using himself as a barrier to protect his smaller brother, and now Tech had to help him in return.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whumpril Day 5: Reckless

CW: stress position, chains, throat whump, magic whump

In the sorcerer’s dungeon, the knight kneels in a circle of torchlight, the dim glow glinting off his chains. A thick iron shackle rings his neck and wrists, each attached to a taut line of links forcing him to stay on his knees, unable to stand or shift position. His raised arms form a T on either side of his bent neck, and as the sorcerer enters, the knight manages a single whimper of pain.

“It’s no use blaming me,” the sorcerer admonishes. “Your own recklessness landed you here.” He steps close and raises the knight’s chin with a gloved hand. The man's mouth opens slightly, saliva beading at the corner.

“Tight, is it, that neck thing?” the sorcerer asks, then laughs. “No, don’t bother answering. Save your breath.” He lets go, and the knight’s head falls forward with a low groan. “I’m sure you know by now that it was all a trap. A trap to catch you. I want you as my champion.”

The knight’s chains shake a little as he tries to move, but the sorcerer grabs hold of his neck chain, pulling it backward until his throat bulges and he struggles to breathe.

“But first, I have to break you.”

[whump-about-it]

Greater Good

@whumpril Day 5: Reckless

CW: exhaustion, self-blame, difficulty breathing, mentions of being choked

continuation of yesterday's entry: Aftershock

Medic was unconscious for less than a minute. It felt like no time at all for them, but it was evidently enough time for half the medical tent to have panic attacks and the acting head of medicine to take a personal interest (or more accurately, personal frustration) in their case.

"Oh good, you're back with us." the Medical Director huffed when Medic's eyes fluttered open, flinching as the Director rubbed some sickly sweet gel on their gums less than gently. They were lying on the cot Whumpee and Caretaker had previously been occupying. They were both still nearby. Someone had found a chair for Whumpee to sit in at Medic's feet, and Caretaker was looking worryingly at Medic over Director's shoulder.

"What happened?"

Medic weakly pushed Director's hand away from them and licked away the gel in their mouth. Their voice was raspy suddenly, and lying down was making breathing harder than before. But the ceiling of the tent was still swaying above them so Medic didn't risk trying to sit up.

"Low blood sugar?"

"Among other things." Director growled "You're blood oxygen is even lower, and I'm betting those bruises on your neck have something to do with it. Drink this."

They shoved an apple juice into Medic's hand and left their line of sight. Caretaker glared after Director before helping Medic to sit up so they could drink the juice. Swallowing the liquid was difficult, and Medic had to take tiny sips to tolerate the pain of it.

"I thought I told you to take a break after that incident." Director began to scold Medic as they drank. "What happened?"

"I was going to," Medic rasped "But Whumpee walked in right afterwards and..." They trailed off, not wanting, or feeling the need to continue. Whumpee gave Medic an apologetic smile and reached out to pat their foot comfortingly. They opened their mouth as though they were going to say something but Director plowed on before they got the chance.

"And when was the last time you ate? You're not diabetic or hypoglycemic, so you shouldn't be having a low blood sugar unless you're starving."

"I had one of the protein bars the volunteers passed out."

That seemed to be the last straw for Director.

"That was the last time you ate!" They yelled. "That was over a day ago! Medic! How could you be so reckless and irresponsible! People's lives were in your hands you idiot! You can't help anyone else if you're not taking care of yourself. What if you passed out while treating someone! What if you passed out while doing that surgery on that asshole's wife! He would have actually killed you, and you would have deserved it! -"

It sounded like Director was going to continue but Caretaker abruptly interrupted. Standing up so fast Medic got dizzy again, and placing a hand firmly on Director's chest.

"Stop it!"

In all the years Medic had known Director, they had never heard anyone speak that way to them. Director was the kind of person who commanded respect, even if they didn't entirely deserve it. Medic should have known they'd meet their match with Caretaker though. They were always looking for a fight, one way or another.

"They don't deserve to be talked to like that. We've just had an earthquake. Their friend was missing, and they've been working none stop without sleep for two days. Of courses Medic isn't thinking straight. It took them nearly being killed to get offered a break for God's sake! And no one has tried to provide the doctors food other than a few protein bars? Not to mention relief isn't due for another day. If anything you're being the reckless one. You're people are going to start dropping like flies soon if you keep this treatment up."

Medic's heart broke for Caretaker in that moment. As tough as their love could be at times, they were the most loyal friend Medic had. They were always the first to come to Medic's defense, no matter the situation. After two days of being blamed for everything under the sun (including in at least one circumstance, the sun itself), it was nice that someone was finally trying to stand up for them. But in this instance, it was an ill-founded defense.

"Caretaker," Medic reached out and tugged at Caretaker's wrist before they could continue admonishing Director. "It's not Director's fault. We were given breaks, I just skipped them."

Everyone stared at Medic with wide eyed expressions. Whumpee seemed to be coming down from their adrenaline and looked too tired to be anything more than surprised by Medic's admission. Director looked like they were going to start yelling again if they weren't already leaning away from Caretaker like a scared animal. Probably a good idea since Caretaker looked like they were going to hit which ever one of the two spoke first. Luckily for the both of them, it was Whumpee.

"Why?"

Medic took as deep a breathe as they could manage and trained their eyes on Whumpee because they didn't want to look at the other two.

"I wasn't going to be able to sleep with you unaccounted for, and I wasn't allowed to join the search parties during my breaks. All I could do to distract myself was to keep busy. And people just kept coming in. And the injuries kept getting worse. They needed as many hands as they could get. So I just kept telling myself it was for the greater good."

Medic cut themselves off. Their tired, oxygen deprived brain hadn't comprehended their words until it was too late. Quickly they snapped their head back to Caretaker and Director. Director looked, surprisingly, somewhat sympathetic to Medic's explanation. It was impossible to tell Caretaker's expression however as they had buried their face in their hands. Medic was certain though that they were both thinking about the same thing. The last thing Caretaker had yelled at them before marching out of the tent to go searching for Whumpee two days before.

God damn you and your greater good mentality! If that's how you feel, you better save every God damn person you touch until Whumpee is found!

"Oh Medic" Caretaker mumbled into their hands. It sounded like an apology. A moment later they lowered their hands and turned away Medic, not quickly enough to hide the tears in their eyes.

"I think we can agree Medic can't work in their condition." They told Director in a much softer voice than they'd addressed them in previously. "I'm going to take them both home to rest. When will you need Medic back here?"

As Director and Caretaker began to discuss what Caretaker should be doing to care for their friends, Medic watched Whumpee, who seemed to be getting a little more color in their face, even as their eyes were drooping and they were listing to the side, loosing themselves to exhaustion. Medic could relate. Now that it seemed final that they were not going to be working anymore today, they could also feel their eyes getting heavy, and all the pain they had been ignoring for the past few days was seeping in. They knew Caretaker was probably going to yell at them again when they were feeling better, and there was a strong possibility that Director was going to discipline them once this was all over, but all they could feel now was relief.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

All-Reliable: Fake Fainting Trick

Whumpril Day 1 (Limp), Day 5 (Reckless)

Now time to finish up Whumpril! :D

Whumpril Prompts List

The Legend of Orian Goldeneye Masterpost

TW: attempted mugging, collapse, head injury

-----

Killian nervously fiddled with his bag strap as he stole through the darkened streets of Iron Hollow. It was as confusing as Saint’s Shoal, and he couldn’t help but suspect he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. The streets at night all looked the same. At least he’d gotten all the necessary supplies before getting lost.

He kept his head down as he passed a shadowy alley between two buildings.

“Hey you.”

Killian stiffened but kept walking, thinking of potential excuses for why he was out so late. He wished Jas was there.

“I’m talking to you!” Someone grabbed his shoulder and roughly turned him around.

“Look,” Killian stammered, “I’m not looking for trouble, but my sister’s sick—”

The person who’d grabbed him, a man a little older than Killian, barked a harsh laugh. “A likely story!” Light from the nearby streetlamp glinted off something in his other hand—a sharp, thin knife. “Everything in the bag, or I’ll cut it off your corpse.”

Two others emerged from the alley. Killian’s eyes darted between his three assailants. They all wore dark clothing—stained leather, maybe?—one had an unstrung bow strapped to his back, and all had swords. He recalled Diana saying something about how rare and expensive black leather was on this side of Atai, something about the dye?

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked softly, heart hammering in his ears.

The pair behind the man glanced at each other, but the man who’d grabbed Killian shrugged. “So what if we are? Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Killian forced a smirk. “You’re in a dreamshaper-controlled city, gentlemen.” With those hopefully ominous words, his knees buckled, and he went limp, collapsing to the ground. His head slammed into the hard stone, pain shooting through his skull, but he managed to keep himself from crying out.

Above, all three attackers cursed and fled, the sound of their retreat fading into the night. Killian slowly pushed himself to a sitting position and touched his hand to the side of his head. No blood, but a hard lump was already forming. He gritted his teeth, head throbbing with every heartbeat.

He could already hear Diana scolding him for doing something so reckless. But it worked, didn’t it? Jas would argue, it’s what I would do.

Leaning heavily against the nearest wall, Killian forced himself to his feet and began walking again. Hopefully, he wouldn’t encounter any actual dreamshapers before he found his way out of Iron Hollow. The last thing any of them needed was another kidnapping.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @whumpril @pigeonwhumps

[losthavenmine]

Whumpril 2023 Day 5: Defiance

Virtuosity (1995)

[drabbles-mc]

Should've Seen It Coming

Nacho Varga x F!Reader

For Day 5 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: dragged, defiance

Warnings: 18+, angst, kidnapping, language

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This is the first piece I ever published for Nacho! I have a longfic in the works for him, but idk when that will be ready. In the meantime, have this! I feel like there's more I want to do with this but I can't put my finger on it. Hope you enjoy!

BCS Taglist: @garbinge @hausofmamadas @narcolini (I'm essentially just tagging the few people I've talked to about this fic, but if in the future anyone else wants to be on the list, let me know!)

You walked up to the table you’d been waiting on for the last stretch of your shift. The man hadn’t ordered much. Truthfully, it seemed like he was more there for any scraps of conversation that you could offer him rather than anything else. If it had been a quieter afternoon, you probably could’ve done a better job of indulging him in that.

He didn’t seem to mind, however, didn’t seem to take it personally. Each time you walked over to refill his coffee, ask him if there was anything else that you could get for him, he always greeted you with a wide, charming smile. You couldn’t help but to notice the singular tattoo he seemed to have, the and that went around his forearm. While it wasn’t something that you would typically pay a whole lot of attention to, it stood out solely because it was the only one. Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it. His voice was smooth, but not quite what you had been expecting. There was a hint of humor to it. You wondered if maybe he’d been here before, but just got lost in the sea of faces that you saw every day.

Stopping at the end of the table, you tucked your hands into the pockets of the apron that was tied around your waist. “I just wanted to stop and see if there was anything else I could get you before I head out.” You gestured towards the register where one of your coworkers was standing. “My shift is over so I’m handing you off to Stacey.”

“Leaving so soon?” he replied with a grin and a laugh.

You smiled and shook your head. “You wouldn’t think it was so soon if you’d gotten here when I got here this morning.”

He laughed, perhaps a little harder than what your comment warranted, but you didn’t mind. “That’s true.” He lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, then.”

You nodded. “You too.”

Walking to the counter at the back of the diner, you swapped out your apron for your purse and finally started to head out. You waved goodbye to Stacey as you made your way for the front door of the diner. It didn’t even cross your mind to look at the table where the man had been sitting. If it had, you would’ve seen the way that he was casually stirring his spoon in his coffee mug, but his eyes never left you. You might not have been paying him all that much mind, but he had made sure that you never left his sight.

The bell above the door chimed as it swung shut behind you. He gave you a few moments, watching you walk across the parking lot through the window next to his table. He watched as you reached into your purse, pulling out the keys to your car but also a pack of cigarettes. There was a small smile beginning to curl his lips as he watched you pull one cigarette out of the pack.

Standing up, he tossed enough money on the table to more than cover his bill and the tip. He silently made his way to the door, slipping out without a word or anyone seeming to notice him. He went down the short stretch of steps that led to the diner, his shoes hitting the blacktop of the parking lot without much of a sound.

Your back was to him, shielding your lighter from the wind as you tried to light your cigarette before getting into your car. You never seemed to smoke inside of it, which was an odd line in the sand in his mind, but he respected it. For a brief moment he thought about waiting, letting you get a few drags in, but it was too late to hit the brakes now.

You turned around at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. When you saw the semi-familiar smile on his face, your body relaxed as you let out a stream of smoke. “Oh, hey, are you—”

The rest of the sentence was lost and buried as the entire world went black.

Nacho was putting the rest of the shop back together, back to its formal glory, when his phone started to ring. He checked it quickly, and he knew immediately who was calling him. He didn’t want to answer, knowing that it wasn’t going to be anything good. Still, he knew that ignoring it was only going to cause more problems.

Bringing the phone up to his ear, he said, “Yea?”

“Oh, good. Was worried that you weren’t going to pick up.”

Nacho drew a deep breath in, knowing that whatever that hint of mirth in Lalo’s tone was, it couldn’t spell out anything good. “Well, I did.” He paused, and when he was met with more silence, he shook his head and continued. “What’s going on?”

“I thought I made it very clear to you,” he kept his tone casual almost to a fault, “that I’m a patient man but I do run out of patience eventually.”

Despite the pleasantness in his voice, Nacho’s heart immediately dropped into his stomach. Men growing impatient never spelled out good things for him, or for the people that he cared about. He remembered the dread that nearly incapacitated him when he was trapped in a car and forced to watch helplessly as his poor, unknowing father was threatened. No matter who he was working with, working for, no one he cared about was ever safe.

He walked to the back of the shop, his tone hushed but urgent as he spoke into the phone. “What did you do?”

Lalo laughed. “Who said anyone did anything, hm? No one said—”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Ooh,” Lalo feigned being impressed before letting out a laugh. “Okay, okay.” He paused, letting the silence last longer than necessary before saying, “I see why you like her. She’s very sweet.”

Panic shot through every nerve in his body. He couldn’t even will himself to say anything in response. He opened his mouth a few times to try and say something, but each time he came up empty. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. “Please, don’t.”

“Don’t what? I told you, Nacho, no one is doing anything.”

“Let,” there was a shake to his voice that he wanted to get rid of and couldn’t, “let her go.”

“I can do that,” he took a deep, dramatic breath, “but you have to do something for me first.”

Nacho couldn’t believe that his heart hadn’t completely stopped. “Whatever you want.” Showing that amount of desperation with his words and his tone was nothing but a sign of weakness, and he knew that, but there was no stopping it. The same way he would’ve done and promised just about anything to save his father, he was willing to burn it all down to save you.

“You know what I want.”

The panic was quickly transforming into anger the longer that he talked to Lalo. The façade of lightness in the man’s voice was enough to make anyone’s blood boil on a good day, let alone a day like the one Nacho was now having. More often than not, he was willing to do the song and dance required to work with Lalo. But not this time, not when he’d laid a hand on you.

The anger that was bubbling up in him gave him enough nerve to push through the panic, desperation giving way to defiance. “I’m not doing shit for you until you let her go.”

Lalo laughed. “I don’t think that’s true.” He paused. “You weren’t doing anything for me before she was with me. So, I think that this might actually be the one thing that gets you moving.” He expected Nacho to argue, but when he didn’t, Lalo said, “I guess we’ll find out.”

Nacho could feel that Lalo was about to hang up. “Where are you?”

Lalo chuckled into the other end of the line. “Somewhere you know very well.”

Nacho could feel the sweat beginning to clam up his palms. “If you hurt her—”

“What exactly would you do then?” he asked like it was a joke to even think about.

“Don’t hurt her and you won’t have to find out.”

Lalo chuckled. “I’m sure that I’ll see you soon, then.”

Nacho was about to try and argue when the line went dead. Snapping his phone shut, he took a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes for a moment. Shoving the phone into the pocket of his jeans, he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, shutting them tight as he did so. He forced himself to take a few more deep breaths before opening them and letting his arms drop back to his sides again.

Forcing his hands to stop trembling, just as much from anger as from fear of what Lalo may or may not have already done to you, he started to make his way towards the door of the shop. He slipped by other workers without a word, most of them too wrapped up in what they were doing to even notice that he was going by them.

It wasn’t until he reached the door that someone noticed that he was making a break for it. His father looked up from the register, confusion on his face as he spoke to his son. His voice was as soft as it ever was as he took in the frazzled look on Nacho’s face, the tension his son was carrying throughout his entire body.

“Leaving, mijo?” he asked, although the answer was quite clear.

Nacho cleared his throat, trying to sound as normal as possible as he replied, “Yea. Something, uh, something came up.” He hated lying to his dad but there was no way that he could tell him what was going on. The list of things that Manuel would never truly be able to forgive him for was already a mile long, but Nacho was certain that this would be a step too far. His father wouldn’t be wrong to feel that way either, but Nacho selfishly wanted to put off that outcome for as long as possible. “I won’t be long.”

“Todo bien?” The sadness in his eyes conveyed that he already knew the answer.

Nacho nodded. What was one more lie? “Todo bien.”

For as much as he wanted to try and stop him, try and get him to say more, Manuel knew that it was no use. A sad smile crossed his face, an odd acceptance of defeat. “Be safe, Ignacio.”

When Nacho saw the look on his father’s face, he couldn’t help but to think about the fact that all Manuel had ever done was worry about him. He didn’t have the time to ruminate on it. Nodding, he pushed the door of the shop open. “I will.”

Within minutes of making that promise to his father, Nacho was tearing down the street in his car at break-neck speeds. He felt like he’d already wasted too much time in trying to get to you, he wasn’t going to let speed limits and traffic lights hold him up any longer.

Your breathing was ragged against the rag that was tied around your head and stuffed in your mouth. You had no idea who this man was, or what he wanted with you. All you knew was that when you came-to, you were lying in the back of a van that had no windows in the back. You’d tried to figure out some sort of escape plan, tried to call for help, but there seemed to be something thwarting every attempt you made to try and accomplish anything. Your wrists and ankles were bound so you couldn’t move, rag tied and snug against your mouth so you could scream. And on top of it all you had no idea where you were being taken.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you tried to get your breathing under control. It felt like your entire body was shaking and you couldn’t get it to stop. You managed to wriggle yourself so that you were sitting upright at least. Your forehead was slicked with sweat—you could feel it starting to trickle down the sides of your face.

“Good!” The man in the driver’s seat looked at you through the rearview mirror, a smile on his face. “You’re up!” He saw the panic in your eyes but it didn’t seem to faze him at all. “Don’t worry,” he reassured, “everything is going to be just fine. I called our mutual friend and he’ll be here soon to sort everything out.”

You had no idea who you would have in common with this man, not a single clue who your mutual friend could be. Truthfully, as you sat and tried to keep from tipping over, you were struggling to think of anyone that you knew at all, let alone someone you knew that this man might also know. Panic stripped every single name from your memory. If the man in the driver’s seat had handed you a phone and told you to call anyone in the world to come and get you, you didn’t think that you would’ve been able to think of a name and a number.

“Varga never mentioned me then?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

It felt like your throat was closing up as you processed what he said. Even if you had questions to ask, it wasn’t as though you’d really be able to say them because of the rag in your mouth. More tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about Nacho, about what all of this could possibly have to do with him.

“I guess I can’t blame him.” There was still a smile on his face as he spoke, his eyes trained on the road as he drove the two of you to wherever your destination was. “Don’t worry, though—he’ll have a chance to explain himself to both of us soon.”

If he meant that to be reassuring to you in any way, it wasn’t. All it did was make you worried about Nacho as well as yourself. You forced yourself to take a slow, deep breath in through your nose as you tried to figure out what to do, if there was anything you could do.

You didn’t know how long you’d been driving around. You tried to focus on the buildings passing by the windshield but there was so much going on in your head that you couldn’t really dial into any of it. It couldn’t have been that long—there was no way you’d been out long enough for him to take you that far away. Also, realistically, if he wanted you as some sort of enticement for Nacho, then he had to be planning to stay at least somewhat local.

For as much as you wanted nothing to do with this man now, you wished that you could at least spit the gag out of your mouth so that you could talk to him. It was so easy to have so many things to say when you weren’t going to have the opportunity to say any of them.

He reached forward and turned the radio up as he drove, nodding his head along to the beat like he was simply going for an evening drive. That was one of the most terrifying details of the entire thing—he seemed so comfortable. You didn’t know what to do with that. If there had been any fight left in you to begin with, it was certainly gone now, because anyone who felt this at home doing whatever he was planning on doing to you wasn’t someone you saw yourself winning against.

Almost as though he could read your mind, he spoke up and said, “Don’t worry, we won’t be driving much longer.”

You didn’t know why that statement caused more tears to spring into your eyes. It should’ve been reassuring in its own weird way. It wasn’t like you were going to be any use to this man if you were dead. He’d have to keep you alive at least, right? If he was almost to wherever he was going, you were at least one step closer to figuring out what the fuck was going on.

When he pulled off the road and into a lot, you caught a quick glimpse of the building he was parking by but it didn’t make any sense. You were expecting him to pull into somewhere abandoned, somewhere at the very least off the beaten path. If your eyes hadn’t been deceiving you, he’d pulled into a restaurant. It seemed outlandish at best, stupid at worst. Why would he bring you somewhere where there would be people?

You tumbled over when he threw the van in reverse and backed up to what you were assuming was going to be a back door of some kind. With what little you could move your feet, you tried to quickly situate your legs as you got yourself upright again. Your breathing was ragged, heart pounding in your chest as you heard him pull on the latch of the door.

He greeted you with the same warm smile he had at the diner, only now it was difficult to see the warmth you originally thought you had. As he reached in, still grinning, and grabbed onto your arm, you felt like you’d been so foolish to believe it before, to fall for the smile and easy-going demeanor. You couldn’t have known, but you felt like you should have.

You stumbled out of the back of the van, kept from toppling to the ground solely by his grip on you. If he hadn’t hooked his arm under yours so effectively you would’ve been eating the pavement. The binding of your ankles left you some room for movement, but not enough. The man was still essentially dragging you through the door and into the back of the restaurant.

Making your way inside, your eyes were darting around frantically as you tried to see where you really were. It wasn’t like you’d been in the backs of many restaurants before. There was nothing that was unique enough to really clue you into what place you’d been brought to exactly. What you did notice, though, was that it was quiet. It was practically silent. You didn’t hear any customers, but even stranger than that, you didn’t hear any sounds coming from the kitchen. You knew enough to know that even if a place wasn’t open, there was always commotion in the back. Not here, though, and it made your stomach sink.

“Here,” he said as he pulled you into a storage room and let go of you. He lingered in the doorway, same slick grin on his face as he said, “Don’t go anywhere.” The tinge of laughter in his voice made bile creep up the back of your throat.

Right after he pulled the door shut, you heard the lock clicking. You hadn’t had a fool’s chance in getting out to begin with, but there was something so much more hopeless settling into your bones once you heard that. Your body wanted to move, but you couldn’t. All that anxious energy and you couldn’t even channel it into pacing. Trying to blink back the tears in your eyes, you found a bare stretch of wall and slid down and sat on the tile floor.

Time was lost on you once more as you sat in the silence of the storage room. You were anxiously tapping your head back against the wall behind you when you finally heard some noise coming from the other side. It wasn’t typical restaurant chaos; it wasn’t music or the like. But you heard something. There were too many walls between you and them to make out who it was or what exactly they were saying, but you could feel the energy off it. They must’ve been loud if you could hear them, their yelling muffled but the anger was clear.

You wanted to scream, call for help. You wanted to be able to actually cry and let out everything that had been bubbling within your chest and threatening to drown you. But you couldn’t do any of that, simply forced to sit silently next to the door and pray for an outcome to it all that panned out well for you.

The sound of the gunshots had you yelping against the gag in your mouth. The tears you’d been trying to fight off with varying levels of success all came tumbling down your cheeks. It was the closest you’d ever been to gunfire and it was way too close for comfort. You tried to scramble to your feet, but in your panic only ended up making it harder for yourself. Your heart was thumping so fast you were sure it was going to stop altogether.

But that’s when you heard it. Distant and panicked but you finally heard Nacho’s voice. The relief that went through you brought a fresh wave of tears. The closer he got, the more you could hear what he was actually saying. The sound of your own name had never been something to bring you so much comfort. You wished that you had any control of your arms and hands, because you would’ve been pounding on the door for all that you were worth. As it stood, you just had to sit and try to cry out against the rag in your mouth in hopes that it would be enough for him to hear you.

The sound of the lock being undone wasn’t loud, but it felt as though it was echoing. You shimmied, trying to get to your feet on your own as you waited for him to get the door open. The light that came pouring through the door as it opened was only broken by Nacho’s silhouette as he stood in the doorway.

“Oh my god.” He didn’t even sound like himself as he instantly buckled to the ground next to you.

His hands immediately felt their way to the back of your head, loosing the knot that had been keeping your gag in place. He gently pulled it away from your face. His fingers ghosted over your face for a moment, making sure it was really you and that you were really in one piece. As much as every single fiber of his being wanted to hold you, he fought the urge as he maneuvered himself around you so that he could free your wrists and your ankles.

The second you couldn’t feel the pull of the restraints against you anymore, all of the fight left your body. You collapsed into Nacho, slumping against him with a sob as he knelt in front of you. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close. It took you a few moments to feel like you really had control over yourself again, but once you had the strength to move, you slipped your arms over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. You pulled yourself tight to him, sobbing into the crook of his neck and letting out all of the emotions that had been tied and gagged inside of you.

Nacho shut his eyes tight as he squeezed you closer to him. One of his hands spread across your back, the other resting on the back of your head. He could feel the way that your body was trembling and his heart sank knowing that all of this had happened because of him. What was even worse was that he couldn’t even try to tell you that it was over—he couldn’t promise you that.

Turning his head just slightly, he pressed a kiss to your temple. He did his best to take a deep breath as he kept you held tight, feeling the unsteadiness of your entire body and trying not to succumb to his own.

“I got you,” he murmured softly, the most honest thing he could tell you. “I promise, I’ve got you.”

[isamajor]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 1 to 5

1 . Limp

The moonlit path stretched out before him, but Inigo couldn't concentrate. It was like he could feel his heart throbbing all over his left leg. The skirmish with this Draugr in this old tomb had injured him, the icy sword of the undead had left a nasty gash. Inigo grimaced with each step, each one slower than the last. He knew he needed to rest, treat his injury, but he didn't want to be a burden to his friends. Then he clenched his fangs, trying to minimize his pain and hide the importance of his limp. (98)

2 . Sweat

The sky was red and black. Auri trembled, muscles tense. Heat prickled her skin, raising goosebumps despite the suffocating heat. Flames devoured the forest around her, casting monstrous shadows onto the twisted trunks of ancient trees. Nightmare shadows, twisted like the cries of trees whose trunks burst in the heat. Auri closed her eyes, but both the panic and the heat had made her drenched in sweat. She was once again witness to this supreme crime among her people, the destruction of a forest. A drop of sweat tickled her jaw. She blinked and realized abruptly that the blaze was getting dangerously close. (103)

3 . Shame

At High Rock, marriage and lineage were of the utmost importance in Breton society. She had fled her marriage. Society shamed her for refusing to comply with this marital arrangement, as was customary. And even though if her suitor would have been her lover, she was repulsed by certain expressions of love, such as the one which allowed the conception of precious heirs. Society would have shamed her anyway. Remiel didn't want to live like this, so she fled to live her life elsewhere. Far from this shame that they wanted to impose on her. (96)

4 . Swaying

Lucien staggered backwards, dropping the damp diary. His vision blurred, knees weakened. Nausea swelled in his gut as he stared at the lifeless girl below the surface. Fighting the urge to vomit, he glanced again towards the calm waters of the pond. The naked corpse was still here. She looked younger than him. Mechanically, he began swaying at a regular rhythm, his wide eyes unable to tear himself away from the girl, drowned in this small pond, whose diary he had discovered and read shortly before. He continued like this, back and forth, deaf to the calls of his companions who were looking for him. (105)

5 . Reckless

Blood staining her golden armor, Nebarra stood tall from the battlefield. Smiling defiantly beneath his helmet, he parried blow after brutal blow, launching taunting barbs at his opponents. His battered body begged for some relief, but his mind roared louder. He knew he had to retreat, that it was reckless to continue the fight in his state. His allies urged him to be healed. But the alcohol had clouded his thoughts and extinguished the pain that coursed through his muscles. He felt stronger than these cheap bandits. Until suddenly, he found himself on his knees in the mud, at the mercy of a final blow. (105)

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 5 Reckless

Again late for day 5 whumpril,

Back to Stolen Three, follows after this "you lied to me" set around The Originals 2x20

Warnings for past self harm.

---

Finn is starting to realise Elijah is in fact an easy younger sibling to deal with, even if he has an amazing ability to test Finn patience with just a sentence and the fact finn knows he does it for his own amusement but as he watched the Mikaelsons snap and snarl at each other with a growing headache, he had been lucky to just have Elijah.

Freya paced behind the couch he had claimed after he had received the invitation from Kol.

He wonders if she’s disappointed in the siblings she had wanted to meet since Dahlia had told them what Mother had done to her new children before their first sleep. Klaus had been openly cold and suspicious of her since she approached them first, Finn is aware the only reason he was accepted easier is because he arrived alongside the resurrected Kol.

It had taken most of the power he had gather during th century sleep, neither him or Elijah were firstborn and so didn’t have the sheer amount of power Dahlia and Freya did but besides Kol being his younger brother who had been used and killed again by their mother, he had both been the one you sired Sage and so allowed Finn to meet the love of his life he was also the one to bring her back once their mother brought him back in a witches body.

Finn doesn’t want to think how he would have felt to wake up and discover her gone, his one escape from Dahlia taken from him while he was asleep. 

Instead he had met her in their normal place and had been filled in on the full story of what was happening with his family.

So with only a little convincing from Sage, he had brought the stranger, another younger brother, back to life.

It wasn’t the first time he had met the man that had given Sage her immortality and in a way he had alway known they were brothers, they had figured out the first vampires were their siblings even without the last name.

But back then he had been focused on making the most of his last days with Sage and had ignored the familiarity that Kol reminded him of, weeks later he had seen Elijah for the first time in nearly a year and been smacked in the face with it. 

At least he found someone in their family he could compare Elijah’s looks to beside their aunt he had thought weakly.

Still using his blood and the other’s soul to bring him back cemented the fact and crushed any small denial that any of this was his problem.

The other was angered at being a vampire again and Finn had to admit feeling a little bad for him, even after a lifetime linked to Dahlia he would miss his magic, but he had accepted they needed more to defend against Dahlia.

Finn would rather die than watch Dahlia do to another, his innocent niece what she had done to Elijah. They were too close for him to pretend it wouldn’t end the same way.

Mother would prefer to kill her grandchild than fight the one who stole her first three children, she used and threw away one child like a tool, would torture her other children to get what she wanted, in a way she was worst than Dahlia. 

The disgust that filled him when he learned mother had tried to kill her other children, for all the monsters she made he had expected better of her, perhaps it was the last of his childhood innocence hidden and protected since he took the witch's hand and followed her from the hut.

He hated how it also proved every argument with Freya over her, pointless, his sister was right over the heartless monster their mother was.

It made finally seeing her again bitter, a vampire in another’s stolen body. He was thankfully Elijah had never had the attachment to be disappointed.

He offered Freya a smile as she paced back behind him, she sent him a weak smile back and stopped pacing to join him sitting, they both ignored the sound of something smashing and turned back to the room their siblings and separated themselves to, since Klaus was refusing to admit killing the werewolf was a mistake.

Finn didn’t need to ask where Klaus got the idea that fear was a good way to keep control; he had seen the start of what their father was becoming after Freya’s loss apparently that had gotten worse, and it was clear Klaus got his self righteousness from their mother.

They watched as Henrik said something they didn’t hear but managed to make Klaus flinch and for a moment look guilty.

Finn stiffened at the image if Kol had been bad enough of a copy of Elijah, they both shared a dramatic and devious nature from what little he had seen. Meeting Henrik was worse, as it seemed his younger brother and their youngest brother had both developed the ability to wield guilt like a weapon.

Finn’s arm twinged suddenly and he jumped looking down at his arm before he felt it happen again and he realised it was his scars.

He and Freya had long ago worked out Elijah’s sensitivity to their magic in the link was due to being linked before he had grown old enough to have a real sense of the world. The closest Finn got to what Elijah had explained was after his brother had attempted to heal his self inflicted wounds before Dahlia found them. The scars would itch whenever Elijah was close or used a large amount of magic, the latter rarely happened.

So he shouldn’t have been that surprised when the four vampire's necks snapped and they all dropped to the floor like puppets with their sting cut, shortly followed by Elijah walking into the place at a calm pace. 

His brother alway had his own way to doing things, a quiet threat but one nonetheless, and while Finn had been missing him, concerned over where he was since he was headed here to look for Freya as soon as they woke up Finn would rather Elijah had stayed as far away until after Dahlia was dealt with or she dealt with them.

Elijah was going to throw himself in the middle to try and buy mercy from their aunt for them and there was no way she would allow that to stand after they openly tried to break her and mother’s deal.

He was only going to get himself hurt.

Dahlia had taken them last time someone had tried that and seemingly only learned the younger the child she took the easier it was to shape them into obedient tools.

He smothered guilt over his own thoughts; he knew Elijah wasn’t as well behaved as he pretended but he was almost as sure that Elijah's attempts to break the deal or kill Dahlia was mostly to free him and Freya.

The time he had found Elijah setting up an entire collection of old vampires and their coven to go against Dahlia while offering himself as a prize came to mind.

“Elijah.” Freya reacted first, throwing herself from the couch to hug Elijah, Finn followed,

“Sister, Brother.” he called back, slightly muffled by how tight they were hugging him, Finn narrowed his eyes as he noticed how tightly Elijah was holding them back.

“You know?” he asked, speaking more into his brother’s hair than to him, hade Elijah learned about Hope, was it from their link to Dahlai or had-

“You’ve seen her.” Freya finished his though aloud as they finally let go of each other, Elijah looked uncomfortable as stepped back before telling them.

“Not in person, she used Kenning on the guy i was-”

They both cut him off with a hiss, Finn smothered his rage, Dahlia had killed Freya’s Mathias, and this wasn’t the first time she had used Kenning to take over whatever man Elijah had taken to bed as a distraction, all the more reason Finn had begged Sage to stay away until after they had dealt with her. 

“Yeah it wasn’t great.” Elijah finished as he looked away, taking in the collection of the temporary dead siblings.

“Why the entrance?” Freyas asked, suddenly looking concerned, no doubt hoping a full introduction could help calm some of the tension, Klaus had been asking for more details on Elijah since he had managed to get Finn to explain his scars. Kol had mentioned meeting him once but hadn’t been able to tell Finn anymore, than one of the covens of New Orleans a century ago had asked Kol for help removing a foreign witch they believed was seducing their young witches into the darker arts.

Finn couldn’t argue against it as both he and Freya had found Elijah doing similar things when he wasn’t taking part in fighting pits and underground fighting rings. 

“The less people know I'm here the better.” was the excuse, which Finn had to agree it was bad enough they were working with their siblings which Dahlia knew but at least one visit to speak to just them could be blamed on Elijah trying to talk them down, to get them back.

To keep the peace as he had always done, Dahlia wouldn’t think to much of it, as much as he hated it he was thankful if it gave him a last chance to see his brother.

“Elijah-” he started,

“You're not going to reconsider.” Finn tried not to hear the pleading his Elijah’s voice, but found himself unable to respond.

“We won’t.” Freya told him reaching out with a hand to grab his.

“She’s going to kill you both.” Elijah suddenly snarled, making them flinch at the sudden change, before Elijah took a breath and swallowed the rage and panic he had let out for a minute. 

Finn shared a look with Freya, they both hated how much Elijah refused to let himself feel. It was all the more reason that had to do this, to save Hope from being raised to be the same, to give Elijah a future to learn where he can be open with himself.

“We have to do this.” Finn echoed Freya, setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I know” Elijah sighed seemingly defeated, Finn disliked the look on his brother and the fact they had put it there but he was still hit with a sinking thought.

“Don’t do anything reckless.” he told him desperately hoping this wasn’t going to be their last words but needing his little brother to remember them if they were if the worst happened and he was left alone with Dahlia.

Elijah smiled at him widely but the the amusement never reached his eyes.

“Like openly working against Dahlia?” he asked, before turning and walking away, “Never.” he called back.

They both ignored the shake in his voice, by the time their siblings revived, Elijah was gone and he and Freya sat on the couch holding each other at the thought of that being the last time they saw their little brother.

This had to work, they weren’t going to leave him behind with her.

—--

Elijah grasped the pendent, feeling the flickering soul within it, and swallowed around the lump in his throat.

Neither of them had noticed him switch the pendants, part of the reason he had made sure the vampires were out of commission.

“Come along mother, time to fix your mistake.” he told the soul, soon he’d bring her back, get to see the parent that had caused their pain and finally free his siblings from the chains of Dahlia and burden of himself.

It may be reckless but he had been planning it for years, centuries of other witches working in his memory and he had never been open with his work against their aunt.

This had to work, he was going to free them of their pain, and take her with him.

[em-writes-stuff]

dragged

@whumpril day 5

hero and villain

248 words

part two here

warnings: (implied) future violence, hero whumper

---

Hero towers over Villain, her outline shielding him from the public’s view. She scoffs at his cowering and turns her back to him. She smiles widely and calls out, “Don’t worry everyone, I’ve got this handled. Why don’t you all go back to work and I’ll take care of it from here.” 

Cheers erupt around her, children cry out in joy and they take their parent’s hands to be led back to safety. The police leave, sirens blaring and lights flashing, leaving Villain alone with Hero. 

She squats down, somehow still towering over him, and smiles, “Now that we’re alone…” 

She grabs him by his collar and pulls him to his feet, making him stand on his toes to keep on the ground. He struggles against her, but they both know she’s going to win this battle. She always does. 

“I didn’t even do anything this time,” Villain whimpers. 

Hero scoffs, “It doesn’t matter.” she drops him and pins him to the ground with her boot, “The public is threatened by you. I promised I’d keep them safe. That’s all I’m doing.” 

He struggles underneath her, breath coming out in short bursts, “I haven’t done anything in months. I can only go so long without a trip to the grocery store and you know it.” 

“Don’t care.” 

She stomps on his chest, leaving him wheezing and grabs his ankle while he struggles to catch his breath. 

“Where…where are we going?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“You’ll see.” 

[coffeeangelinabox]

Whumpril #5: Reckless

"Reckless" has always been used to describe Jay.

As a boy he was perpetually in trouble for running off and running his mouth; leaping before he looked.

He's been thrown out of more than a few dives at shuttle ports for ill advised recklessness, be it comments, bets (hustles) or flirtations (how was he supposed to know she was the bar tenders third wife?)

It is - in Darrow's opinion at least - his greatest weakness as a tactician, though he's not sure it agrees. Darrow's tactics might work, but he's been fighting the Domain most of his life, and chipped away little more than a bolt hole and a place on the public enemies list. Reckless it might be, but Jay thinks there's an argument for taking the fight directly to them...though even he admits he might need a bigger fleet than a single ship.

His recklessness is why he works so well with Lee. Lee's (over)cautiousness a counter balance to his impulsivity.

"It's a trap," Rosie says, her voice an eyeroll though she maintains a professional facade.

He takes a moment to be impressed. He had understood that Darrow owed her family a debt or three, but hadn't been sure about keeping the kid aboard, but she's a natural in this war.

"Obviously it's a trap," Jay says absently, fingers dancing over the console. "But it's so obvious they'll expect us to circle, looking for a weakness in the perimeter, then they can cut us off, surround us. We're not going to do that."

Rosie leans forward, examines his coordinates, and he watches her planetsiders brain laborously translate the numbers to a flat map. "But-"

"We're going to barrel right through the front, full burn."

"That's..." her voice trails off and then her professional facade drops, just that, a facade. "That's beyond stupid," she snaps, pitch rising more than volume. "Even if it works, which it won't, the cube is little more than a prison block and administrative offices. They'll be checkpoints, there's no way to traverse it, half the inmates will have been driven mad - just as dangerous to us, and assuming we can overcome all that how are we going to get off again."

"The important thing is to get in," Jay insists. "And quickly. We have to get Jemma back before they have a chance to do any intake work. If they discover that she's enhanced-"

Rosie's objections trail off with Jay's voice. The Domain hates little more than the enhanced, an unfortunate reminder of their failed eugenics attempts. They spent a generation wiping them out, and a survivor, particularly a second gen like Jemma...

Dissection is the best she can hope for.

Lee would have urged caution, siting logistical reasons to be careful, reminding Jay that the cause had to take priority over any one person. Even Jemma.

Darrow would have had a clever plan and no one would have argued with him at helm controls, his absolute authority powerful as an electric current.

Gene has skills that he simply doesn't, may have been able to get aboard posing as a repair crew or scheduled delivery. That could be useful, but by the time they get back to the Valjean, who knows what will have befallen Jemma.

Nico and Casey could have used their telepathy to contact Jemma, to arrange a plan that involved her, to ensure they were all working together, and Jemma's skills would be invaluable. She's clever enough to conserve her strength and not to invite punishment and retribution, but if she knew they were coming - and where - she's capable of taking down half a dozen guards. Unless she's injured or already dead.

David...well, truthfully, Rosie doesn't yet know David well enough to say how he'd react. Not by driving a short range space pod into the front of a prison swarming with guards, she suspects.

She wishes, again, that she wasn't the one on this mission. That she hadn't had to prove herself, that she hadn't let them take Jemma.

That guilt pricks at her. She's already lost enough. People have sacrificed for her, it's her turn to pay it forward.

"Alright, she says, let's do reckless."

[uuuhshiny]

Russell Crowe in Republic of Doyle

Ooof

[diegoalvesisgod]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Men's Football RPF Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Nicola Zalewski & Stephan El Shaarawy Characters: Nicola Zalewski, Stephan El Shaarawy, Paulo Dybala, Leandro Paredes, Romelu Lukaku Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Crimes & Criminals, Robbery, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, whumpster-dumpster's Whumpril 2024 Series: Part 5 of Whumpril 2024 Summary:

Footsteps echo through the house, growing louder and closer with each passing moment. Nico's breath catches in his throat as the sound draws nearer to his room. He squeezes his eyes shut, praying that whoever it is will just leave him alone.

Day 5 of Whumpril 2024: Reassurance

[bookishzelda]

Whumpril Day 5: Reckless

Hyrule Warriors Link? And our lady Impa? Absolutely. Another super short one.

Whumpril Day 5: Reckless

Hyrule Warriors Link

Link drew in a pained breath as Impa’s hands found a particularly battered area of his back. The Sheikah woman made no effort to be especially gentle with his broken skin as she rubbed a healing salve into his wounds.

“That was a hard battle, wasn’t it?” Impa asked as she worked.

Link nodded.

“I can think of a couple ways it could have gone better,” she continued. “Chances are you wouldn’t be so worse for wear if you had followed the strategy that the princess and I gave you.” She touched another badly bruised patch of skin and paused as Link gasped in pain.

“You’re too reckless, Link.” She scooped some more salve from the jar as she continued to scold him. “I know you have a lot going for you, but despite what you think, you’re not invincible. You can’t go running into every hoard that you see and expect to come out on the other side. Just because you got lucky this time doesn’t mean you will next time. And if something happens to you, where will the rest of us be? Zelda needs you.”

Link hung his head and nodded in agreement.

“So from now on, we need to work as a team. You may not like to admit it, but I’ve had far more experience with military strategy than you have. If I give you an order, you follow it. I don’t want to have to pull your behind out of danger like that again. Understood?”

Link nodded and grunted an affirmation.

“Good!” Impa patted him softly on the shoulder and said, “I’m done. You can put your shirt back on. And Link…” She paused as he met her eyes. “Thank you for all that you’ve done. You are truly a great warrior. Im proud to fight by your side.”

The hero smiled at her.

[sylvanfreckles]

Rating: T Warnings: child abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, child endangerment Spoilers: None

Summary:

It's been twenty-four hours since Todoroki's rescue, but he still has a long recovery ahead of him. Which is only compromised when he faces new setbacks that threaten his physical and mental health.

His body was more damaged than they realized...and Endeavor won't give up without a fight.

But neither will Aizawa. And if he's the only thing that can stand between his student and the hell of his former life...then so be it.

(@whumpril day 5: reckless)