#febuwhump 24

[majorproblems77]

Me trying to write febuwhump projects while my mind is mushy is an adventure

Im only doing some of the prompts this month, with most of them just being continuations of my whumptober stories from last year.

Were there any prompts that people wanted to see used with a particular Whumptober 23 project?

The only one I'll say not to suggest is Pinned down, As I've got something in progress for that one :)

#linked universe #writing #febuwhump #febuwhump 24

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 24: “I’m doing this because I care about you,”

Content warning: none

Villain knew the exact moment Hero snapped back into consciousness. Not because they were watching them, nor because of some particularly developed sense of hearing. No, Villain knew the exact moment Hero woke up because of the hacking, painful cough that tore through them the moment they opened their eyes.

By the time Villain had bookmarked their place and moved into their living room, Hero was gasping for air. They were clutching at their chest, blankets thrown haphazardly around their waist, tears dripping down their face as they struggled to breathe.

They looked horrible. Red faced and clammy, shaking with a constant chill despite the thick blanket Villain had thrown over them. Villain could practically see the fever wafting off of them. If there were a picture in the dictionary for the word ‘sick’, Hero’s face would be plastered there as a prime example.

It took Hero a moment to lift their gaze. When they did, their eyes widened in shock. “You—where, what–” Their eyes flicked across their surroundings at breakneck speeds, before returning to Villain with a confused glare. “Am I on your couch?!”

“It’s a sofa, but yes.”

They stared in disbelief. “Why?”

“I thought that bringing you to bed would be a tad too forward. Was I wrong?” Villain asked, voice a purr. They grinned at the way the redness on Hero’s cheeks darkened.

Hero scowled, “You're wrong for thinking I want to be on your stupid couch,” they grumbled, working to untangle themselves from the blankets. With an amount of effort Villain couldn’t help but notice, Hero lifted themselves onto unsteady legs, one hand still resting on the sofa’s arm.

They took a step. The jangling of a chain accompanied the movement.

Hero looked down, finally noticing the cuff connected to their left ankle. The other end was locked snugly around the sofa’s leg.

Hero turned to face Villain. They didn’t even look angry, simply annoyed. “Are you kidnapping me again?” they sighed.

Villain grinned. Ignoring the distrusting glare Hero sent their way, they snapped their fingers. Their abilities responded eagerly, and their once empty palm was filled.

A simple medicine cap appeared in Villain’s hand, filled to the brim with a thick, purple liquid.

Hero looked up at them like they'd grown a second head. “You brought me here to take medicine?”

“I brought you here because you dropped from the sky in a dead faint mid battle, before I so much as touched you,” There was an edge to Villain’s voice. They swallowed it, forcing their smile to remain in place. “I certainly wasn’t going to waltz up to your agency, carrying you like a princess. So I decided to take you home with me.”

Villain didn’t miss the way Hero’s eyes widened at their words. Or how their stare was filled with confusion like they had no memory of the day’s events.

Hero turned away. “It’s barely a cold. I didn’t need help.”

Didn’t need help. Yes, because someone ready to fall over in public, their allies nowhere in sight, in the middle of a fight with a villain, didn’t need help. It was ridiculous, the typical, endlessly stubborn non-logic they knew Hero for. It was usually something Villain found amusing. But looking at Hero now, the shadows under the eyes, the gauntness to their face that a simple cold could not explain, Villain felt only anger.

They couldn’t stop thinking about Hero falling. Their eyes rolling into the back of their skull, whatever retort they’d been about to make dissolving into a nonsensical slur. How they’d just dropped, falling like a bird shot from the sky.

Villain would never admit to the scream that’d torn from their lips at the sight. They didn’t want to consider how close of a call it’d been. If Villain had been just a little slower to act…

Villain pushed the thought from their mind, instead pushing the cap into Hero’s hands. Hero held it like Villain had just presented them with a dead rat.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m doing this because I care about you.”

Hero sighed, “You’re doing this because you like bothering me.”

“Those two sentiments aren’t mutually exclusive,” Villain grinned. “And there’s no fun in defeating you when a cold is doing the work for me.”

Hero glared for a long moment. Finally they sighed, defeated. They lifted the cup to their lips, throwing their head back and swallowing the medicine as if it were a shot of bourbon. They returned the cup to Villain’s outstretched hand without question. “Done. Can I leave now?”

Villain took the cap back graciously, sending it back to their bathroom with a wave of their hand. “And what made you think you’d be leaving so soon?”

“But I thought–,” a sudden cough interrupted them, hacking and thick with flem. Villain almost winced at the noise. “-- I took the stupid medicine, what else do you even want?!”

They wanted Hero to avoid keeling over in their foolish goal of saving every pathetic little life in the city. “Plenty. Your downfall, the keys to the city…,” they said instead. “But that’s besides the point. You won’t be doing any more heroics for the remainder of the day. I suspect you'll be dead to the world within the hour.”

Hero's eyes bulged. “D-did you drug me?!” Their voice squeaked with indignation.

“If you consider Nyquil a drug, then yes.”

“Oh,” and just like that, their anger faded. “Then I’ll be fine, a little cough medicine isn’t going to knock me out.”

“Have you had Nyquil before?” Villain asked. ”Darling, it’s infamous, and you already look dead on your feet. I wouldn’t bet on your chances”

Hero crossed their arms, pouting like a stubborn toddler. “I’ll be fine. I'm not even tired,” Villain noted that they also sounded like a stubborn toddler. They decided not to mention either fact.

Villain sighed, hands moving to rest on their hips. “Your abuse of the word ‘fine’ aside, I’ll make you a deal.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Hero countered, scowling. And then they sniffed, entirely ruining the impact of the expression.“You let me go, and I don’t kick your ass.”

Villain ignored them. “Stay for an hour. If you’re still awake by then, I’ll let you go.”

“I don’t have time to just sit around!” Hero groaned, pulled at the chain on their leg. The cuff was made of a soft, comfortable material, but it was sturdy. It stayed firm despite their tugging, which only encouraged them to tug harder. “I’m supposed to be on duty!”

“You’re also actively being kidnapped, as you put it. Most hostages don’t get to negotiate the terms of their stay. Be thankful.”

Hero glared, expression more of a pout than anything else. Red faced and ruffled hair, they looked as intimidating as a kitten.

Villain grinned. “But fine, if you’re so insistent on leaving, I can negotiate. Stay for forty five minutes.”

“Hell no. Twenty five.”

“Absolutely not. Thirty, and I get to pick the movie.”

Hero raised an eyebrow. “The movie?”

“Well, I’m not going to just sit here waiting for you to pass out.” Villain huffed.

Hero glared for a long moment, arms crossed. Villain could see them considering their options, stubborn pride battling against bone-deep exhaustion.

They saw the moment Hero’s exhaustion won out. They sighed, shoulders slumping, and they flopped back into their seat. “Fine. Thirty minutes and I’m out of here.”

Grinning, Villain sat themselves besides Hero, making a show of getting comfortable. They spread the blanket across both of them. Hero huffed, but didn’t move.

“I hope I get you sick.” Hero sniffled.

“I’m not exactly human, my dear; your little bug won’t touch me. Feel free to continue to hope however.”

The pair sat in near silence for a moment, the only sound the occasional hacking cough. After several minutes of consideration, Villain settled on a film. A simple, vapid romantic comedy. Utterly unremarkable and dull. The perfect film to fall asleep to.

They turned to their nemesis, finger hovering over the play button. “Any complaints?”

Hero shrugged. “Whatever. It's not like I'll be watching.”

“Because you'll be asleep, I know.”

“Because I'll be leaving.”

“Certainly. Whatever you say…” Villain’s voice dripped with condescension. Hero only huffed.

Villain flicked the movie on and snuggled into the blanket.

The film was just as unimpressive as Villain had hoped. It was just interesting enough to be vaguely entertaining, but it was clearly a film designed to be background noise. Which was perfect, of course.

Villain wasn’t paying the film any mind. What they were truly focused on was Hero. They’d tucked themselves underneath the blankets, half-curled into the covers. Their arms were crossed over their chest, expression set as if their very honor depended on them staying awake.

Hero was fighting a battle against exhaustion, and it was obvious they were losing. Within the first ten minutes, they’d already begun snuggling into the covers, pulling the material close to their trembling frame. Their eyes were barely open by the fifteen minute park. They were still sitting upright, but their head would tip forward every few minutes, eyes falling shut. They’d always jerk themselves back to wakefulness moments later. Villain didn’t miss the way they’d glance over to Villain each time it happened, expression embarrassed. Villain carefully did not meet their gaze.

Villain resisted a smile when Hero finally leaned back fully, resting their head against the sofa.

By the half hour mark, Hero had gone entirely slack. Their mouth was slightly ajar, quiet, congested snores the only noise they made. They were out like a light, just like Villain had predicted.

Slowly, carefully, Villain leaned towards them. “Time’s up darling,” Villain whispered into Hero's ear, tone thick with amusement. “Should I let you go? You seem rather comfortable.”

“Hnnn…”Hero only grumbled in response, words unintelligible. They shifted in place, and Villain froze and Hero flopped over, falling to lean heavily against their side. They tucked themselves into Villain, nose pushing itself into the crook of Villain’s neck.

They hummed sleepily, content, before falling still again.

“Oh,” Villain didn’t dare move. They could feel heat coming off Hero in waves, fever leaving their skin clammy against Villain’s. Their breath ticked against Villain’s neck. Neither feeling was particularly unpleasant.

They tried to move away, carefully shifting Hero’s body to rest against the sofa’s arm. But then Hero gave a half-conscious whine, fingers blindly gripping at Villain’s shirt. Even in their sleep they were stubborn as ever.

Villain sighed, accepting their impromptu downgrade to Hero’s cushion. They made a mental note to continue their ‘kidnapping’ for the remainder of the week.

#oh this is barely whump once more #sickfic #sick whumpee #stubborn whumpee #hero whumpee #villain caretaker #whump #whumblr #hero x villain #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 24 #illness whump #my stuff

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Febuwhump - Day 24

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader

Prompt: "I'm doing this because I care about you"

Warning: language, angst

______

“Excuse me?” Your dad sighed from his office chair, running his hand over his face. “I am not a little girl. I can take care of myself.”

“Y/N, he is a very nice young man. He’ll keep his distance and not interfere with your routine.”

“You hired me a damn bodyguard. Dad, I-”

“I’m doing this because I care about you,” he said. “It is not a punishment.”

You rolled your eyes, your dad leaning back in his chair. “He’s going to live with me at my apartment. A strange dude suddenly in my house. What are you thinking? You would never let that happen.”

His green eyes were hard, covering for the flicker of fear behind them.

“Dad, what’s going on? I’m an adult. You owe me that much.”

“I’m sorry but the less you know the better.” You shook your head, earning nothing more than a hardset jaw in response. “And he’s not moving into your apartment.”

“Good.”

“He’s moving into the house, along with you. Until this resolves itself.” You blinked your eyes rapidly, his own shutting.

“Excuse me? I am not-”

“Yes. You are. End of discussion. Now go pack for an extended stay or I’ll do it for you.”

_______

#febuwhump #day 24 #jensen x daughter!reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfic

[serickswrites]

I Care

Warnings: captivity, physical violence, restraints, drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, yandere, suicide, faked suicide, fake blood, presumed dead

Whumpee came to slowly. Their head was pounding and their mouth was dry as cotton. What happened? Where am I? Whumper! The thought had Whumpee starting awake.

"My love, you are awake," Whumper whispered into their ear, lips gently brushing the shell of their ear. "I am so glad."

"Wha," Whumpee had to clear their throat to get the words out, "what didjou do?" Where did you take me? Where is Caretaker? What have you done?

"What needed to be done," Whumper said coolly. "Really, I thought you would be happy, we're together, just like I promised we'd be. I always keep my promises."

What needed to be done? Oh God. Caretaker! "Caretaker?" Whumpee said as they realized they were restrained in a bed. Memories of the moments leading up to Whumper taking them flooded Whumpee. They had opened the door, expecting Caretaker, but found Whumper. They opened their mouth to scream, but Whumper came at them, punching their mouth, boxing their ears, and then grabbing them and......a sharp prick and then nothing.

"Oh they're alive, Whumpee. Don't worry. I wouldn't kill them. Though that would have made my life much easier," they said in afterthought.

Whumpee sighed. Caretaker's alive. They'll find me. They always find me. "They'll.....hunt....you." Their mouth was still dry, the words stuck like glue to their tongue.

Whumper giggled. "They're not going to come looking for you. I made sure they wouldn't."

Whumpee's heart pounded in their chest. They tried to free their hands, but the silken ropes bound them so tightly. "What didjou do?"

"I faked your death. At your own hand of course. That way Caretaker will never suspect me. And you and I can have all our time together. Just like I've always dreamed."

Faked my death? Suicide? I would never! Images of Caretaker's grief filled them, the pain so palpable. They think I'm dead. They think I'm dead. I'm not dead. They think I hurt myself. I would never. I could never hurt them that way. "Why?" Was all Whumpee managed to croak.

"I'm doing this because I care about you, Whumpee. More than anyone else." They cupped Whumpee's cheek and stared into Whumpee's eyes, a maniacal gleam filling their own eyes. "I care so much about you, Whumpee, that I will do anything to take care of you. Even if it means making sure no one will know you. No one will come for you. It's only you and me."

Whumpee spat in Whumper's face. It was the only thing they could do, they were bound to the bed so tightly. "Fuck you," they hissed.

Whumper winced as they wiped the spit off their face. They reached into their pocket and pulled out another needle. "I think you just need some time to think about how great our time will be with no one to interfere."

Whumpee tried to roll away. Tried to free their hands. Tried to do anything to avoid the prick of the needle. But it was in vein. As Whumper stabbed their neck with the needle and depressed the plunger, flooding their body with a potent sedative, Whumpee realized that until Whumper trusted them, until Whumper believed they wouldn't try to escape, they would remain tied to the bed.

I will get out of here. I will get back to you, Caretaker. Whumpee made their silent vow as they began to slip into the deep sea of unconsciousness. I will get back to you. Caretaker. I love you. Please, don't give up on me.

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw physical violence #tw drugging #creepy/intimate whumper #tw suicide #tw faked suicide #tw fake blood #tw presumed dead #tw yandere whumper #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 23 #febuwhump day 24 #prompt: presumed dead #prompt: “I'm doing this because I care” #queue

[chaotic-orphan]

Febuwhump: Day Twenty-Four

“I’m doing this because I care about you” @febuwhump prompt

TW: imprisonment, non-consensual restraints, non-con inhibition of powers, stripped of powers, destructive love, toxic relationship, doing wrong for the right reasons, emotional Whump

*~*~*~*~*

Hero woke up in bed with a groan. Their mind was foggy, something niggling in the back of their mind seemed too far away to be urgent so Hero ignored it promptly and opened their eyes.

They frowned at the ceiling.

That wasn’t their ceiling.

This wasn’t their bed, or their pillow.

Oh god, Hero thought. I have no idea how I got here, please say they were hot— how much did I drink last night? Did I go out last night? Maybe to cool off? But no—

Hero couldn’t recall anything from last night which was only slightly concerning.

They rolled their lips into their mouth, ready to face the music, or the morning.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Hero froze, eyes slamming close on instinct. Was it too late to pretend to be asleep?

“Hero. I know you’re awake.”

Wait… Hero knew that voice. Hero frowned and sat up in the bed to a melody of rattling chains. Hero ignored Villain who sat at the end of the bed in a cosy looking armchair and immediately threw the covers off of them.

They followed the length of chain from their wrist that disappeared over the edge of the bed with fear slamming their heart faster in their chest. When they tried to move to see under the bed to where the chain went, the chain holding their other wrist in a metal cuff pulled taut.

Hero’s wide, panicked eyes went to Villain. “What is this?”

Villain raised their hands, showing Hero their palms a placating gesture. “Hero—”

“Villain. What is this?!” Hero asked, pulling at the chains harder. Hero kicked the duvet off their legs to find their ankles chain in the same heavy duty cuffs their wrists were encased in. “This is a little kinky, even for me.”

“Hero, I’m doing this because I care about you.”

Hero’s nostrils flared. “Let me out, Villain.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?!”

Villain raised their head a little higher in the air. “I won’t. Supervillain is making his move today and I refuse to let you get caught up in it.”

Hero blanched. “What?”

Villain stepped around the bed closer to Hero but Hero shook their head, pushing themselves back as much as they could. Until the cuffs around the ankles protested.

“Don’t come near me Villain! Not unless you’re going to release me this instant!”

“I can’t let you die, Hero,” Villain said, their voice quiet and soft.

Hero swallowed the lump in their throat, then schooled their features into a neutral expression and said very matter of factly: “this is the last time I will ask you nicely, Villain. Release me. Now. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

Villain ran a hand down their face, cupping their cheeks in one hand as they blew out a breath. Then they shook their head, half turning their body away from Hero and shoving their hands into their trouser pockets.

“You can’t,” said Villain with the same soft quietness.

Hero frowned. They didn’t have time for this. “Then I’m sorry, Villain.”

Hero clicked their fingers and nothing happened. Villain tipped their head down to stare at the floor in front of them. Hero clicked their fingers again, picturing the chains snapping and setting them free.

Nothing happened.

Something looked large in their gut like panic, threatening to overwhelm Hero because why couldn’t they summon their magic to them at that time?

They clicked their fingers again. And again. And again.

Then they cast their burning eyes to Villain in question.

Villain held up a small bottle with a cork stopped in its neck. “Villain… what did you do?”

“What I had to,” said Villain. They shook the bottle gently, then looked over at Hero, their face the picture of heartbreak. “I knew you’d try to leave anyway.”

“What did you do, Villain?!” Hero demanded, their emotions threatening to run away with them. “Supervillain commissioned a promising young chemist, a graduate who needed a job if you can believe it, to make a chemical compound that would inhibit your powers for a while.”

It felt as if Villain had just stabbed Hero in the chest. “How long is a while?” Hero demanded, tears prickling the back of their eyes and threatening to fall. “Villain! Look at me!”

Villain’s eyes flicked to Hero’s, their shoulders hunched and resigned. “A little under a week.”

Hero’s heart dropped into their stomach. “What?”

Villain approached quickly, climbing onto the bed and reaching for Hero but Hero backed away until the chains pulled taut and they couldn’t go any further.

Villain’s eyes were glazed over, their chest moving far too quickly to be okay, blubbering excuses at Hero.

“I had to, Hero. Supervillain said that if I didn’t get you out of the picture that he would kill you!”

“I’d rather die trying to stop him than—”

“I know you would!” Villain yelled over Hero, stunning them into silence. Hero was trembling on the bed, seeing the helpless, desperate fury in Villain’s eyes… Villain had never raised their voice at Hero. Not once. “I know you would give your life to save someone else’s but who is looking out to give their life for yours, hmm?! Tell me! Tell me and I’ll let you go!”

The tears fell silently down Hero’s cheeks, not a single name coming to mind that would sacrifice themselves to protect Hero.

Not one except— “you.”

Villain’s shoulders wound tight, setting their jaw as they looked away from Hero.

Hero blinked and a new wave of tears fell. “Villain what did you do?” Hero whispered in a voice that wasn’t their own. It was too frail, too helpless and scared. Too childlike. “Villain.”

“I made a deal with Supervillain,” Villain choked out, tears falling freely down their cheeks and onto the bed as well. “I can’t—” Villain met Hero’s eyes with such conviction, such loyalty that it curled a hand around Hero’s lungs and they let out a soft breath. “I won’t let you die. I won’t. Don’t ask me to. I don’t care if you never forgive me, just as long as you’re still breathing… that’s all that matters to me.”

Hero shook their head, but when Villain placed their hand on Hero’s cheek they didn’t flinch, or wince , or pull away.

“I would let the world burn rather than sacrifice you to save it. They don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve to die for them.”

Hero’s hand reached up to cup Villain’s. “They never asked me to, Villain. I wanted to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

“I don’t care,” said Villain. “I’ll be the bad guy. I’ll keep you here forever if I have to. That way you won’t hate yourself when Supervillain makes their move. You can hate me instead, I’ll take the burden from you.”

Hero stared at Villain, completely at a loss for words. Isn’t this the love everyone would die for? An all consuming, unwavering loyalty? Unconditional and destructive? Heart wrenching and all too much, overwhelming and sickening?

Hero hated the twisted feeling in their gut that craved that love; the love so hot it threatened to burn both Hero and Villain, but in that moment… there were no words that Hero could say. Nothing they could do because they know if the roles were reversed Hero would have done the same for Villain.

“I hate you,” Hero whispered, their shoulders shaking as they leaned into Villain’s hand.

“I know,” Villain said.

“I hate you so much,” said Hero. Villain crept closer, their other arm wrapping around Hero.

“I know.”

“How dare you take that choice from me,” Hero blubbered, sobs wracking their chest, eyes burning. “How dare you!”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Hero leaned forward into Villain’s arms and sobbed into their shoulder. Villain wrapped their arms tighter around Hero, sniffing back sobs as well. They didn’t deserve to cry, they needed to be strong.

Hero and Villain fell asleep in each other’s arms, salt stained tear trails stuck to their cheeks. It took Supervillain four days to topple the Hero agency and assume control of the city. For now though, the lovers held each other close in their sleep, the guilt would be waiting for them when they awoke.

#febuwhump #febuwhump24 #febuwhump day 24 #febuwhump day twenty-four #febuwhump prompts #febuwhump prompt #febuwhump prompt calendar #febuwhump2024 #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #writing #orphan writing #whump writing #orphan #writblr #hero x villain #villain x hero relationship #hero x villain relationship #hero whumpee #villain whumper #hero whump #hero kidnapped #kidnapped hero #hero captive #captive hero #captivity whump #emotional whump

[kybercrystals94]

Belong

Read here on Ao3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 24 | Prompt 24: “I’m doing this because I care about you.”

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Forced to Hurt Someone

Rated: G | Words: 351 | Summary: A what-if for Season 1 Episode 2: “Cut and Run” [character focus: Omega]

“You don’t belong with us, Omega. You’re a liability. I’m sorry, but this is for the best. For all of us.”

Hunter’s words haunt her. Even when she tries to forget them. Especially when she tries to forget them. Like a broken holo, they replay over and over again in her mind. She wants to hate Hunter for what he said, for how he pushed her off on Cut and Suu. He hadn’t even given her a choice, hadn’t given her a chance to apologize, to plead her case that she could do better. Be better. She could. She knew she could. He didn’t even give her a chance.

However, she can’t hate her brother no matter how hard she tries to let the words barb the broken flesh of her heart. The words just make her sad, a sullen and persistent ache that makes her cry when she thinks no one will hear her.

What had she expected? The Batch doesn’t remember her. In their memories, they only just met her. And what Hunter said was true — she is a liability, a hindrance, a child…she doesn’t belong with a squad of soldiers.

But she so desperately wanted to belong with her brothers.

“But I chose to go with you! With all of you, when we left Kamino. Please, Hunter.”

“Kid…It’s not that simple. I’m doing this because I care. I want the best for you. And the best is not us. I’m sorry.”

She has parents now, siblings her own age. She should be happy. She should be grateful. And she does love Cut and Suu, Jek and Shaeeah. They are wonderful, and have accepted her intrusion as if she is no bother at all, as if she belongs.

But she doesn’t want to belong here.

She wants to belong there, in the stars, on the Marauder, with the brothers she promised so long ago to find again.

And she didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not even to Hunter.

Everything happened so fast, and now they are gone.

And they are apart again.

Maybe, this time, forever.

END

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#febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday24 #Prompt 24: I’m doing this because I care about you #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Forced to Hurt Someone #star wars #the bad batch #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb hunter #tbb omega #what if #season 1 episode 2 cut and run

[chrysochroma]

Molten Gold

@febuwhump 2024: Day 24: “i’m doing this because i care about you"

@badthingshappenbingo: ransom note (card is at the end)

Rating: Teen And Up

Words: 959

Fandom: 3rd Life

Warnings: Kidnapping, Flashbacks, References to past trauma, Fire powers, Yelling

this is inspired by @onawhimsicot’s TangoTek Evil Incorporated AU, here’s the link to the Ao3 post (you should go read it! and look at the amazing art!!)

read on Ao3

(for clarification, people with superpowers are called powers for short, and heroes/vigilantes/villains are called superpowers)

Tango picked up his phone, then opened his chat with Impulse. He hesitated for a second, glanced at his still broken elevator, then typed out a message. 

<Tango: hey you busy? i got a project i need help with>

He waited for a few seconds, staring at the unchanging screen, waiting for a reply to pop up. Usually it didn’t take too long for Impulse to respond, but Tango supposed that he wasn’t obligated to reply instantly, so he set his phone down and resumed glaring quizzically at his elevator. Another two hours passed before his phone finally chimed. 

Finally, Tango thought. Took him long enough. 

Then he opened the message. It was a video. Tango raised an eyebrow, then pressed play. 

“Long time, no see, huh Tango? Oh, sorry, Blaze.” Tango’s heart almost stopped. The video continued to play. “It has been a while, but I will say I haven’t forgotten about you, Tango.”

He made out a figure in the front of the frame. They were clothed in all black, with flickers of a burgundy and dark purple shimmering across their suit. Their eyes glowed bright white, the light sliding across the camera lense, flaring out like lightning. The Wither.  

“You fascinate me. That was the only time I’ve every had a power escape almost unharmed.” Tango’s lungs ached as he was shot back into the past for a few seconds. “So, I got a little something that you want enough to give me a second shot.”

They stepped aside. Behind them, light glinted off the edges of a metal chair. In that chair sat Impulse, his eyes screaming through the camera lens. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. Tango knew the feeling that he suspected filled Impulse’s throat—arid and scorched, so dry that you could barely breathe. And the pulsing static that was coursing through his veins, stabbing into his muscles and immobilizing him. Tango had to fight his own mind to crawl back into reality.

They paused for a second to let the image sink in. “It’ll be a pleasure to see you again, Tango.”

The video ended. 

-

A thin beam of moonlight shone through the blinds on Tango’s window. He strode through his lair, furiously tapping at the screen on his wrist, taking half a glance at the still nonfunctioning elevator before descending the stairs. 

A voice pulled him out of his head. “Tango.” Jimmy was standing in front of the door, his wings flared out slightly. “Don’t do this. I already told you not to do this alone.”

Tango let his hands drop as his eyes met Jimmy’s. His stance was weary but his reply was firm. “I’m not leaving him there.”

“I’m not telling you to leave him, I’m telling you to take me with.”

Tango gave a faint, sad smile, but it quickly flashed into a sneer. “You have no idea what you just asked me to do. You don’t know how hurt you could get.”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” Jimmy paused. “I talked to Wraith about it.”

“You talked to Etho?”

Etho was breathing hard, crouched low, his hands over his face. Tango dropped to his knees beside him, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up, desperate to see that he was at least alive. Etho returned Tango’s wide-eyed stare with solid black, glossy eyes. Shimmering black tear streaks coated his face and hands. A drop fell from one of Etho’s fingers and landed on Tango’s pants, black bleeding into the red. 

Tango pulled himself back into the present. “If you talked to Etho, you know why you can’t go.”

Confusion flashed through Jimmy’s eyes. “What?”

Tango paused, studying Jimmy’s expression for a second. “He didn’t tell you.”

“Didn’t tell me what?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter.” Tango backtracked. “I’m not letting you come with me.”

Jimmy stepped forward, dismissing whatever confusion he had. “Tango, stop. You can’t do this alone, you’ll get hurt,” He pleaded.

“I’ll be fine, you won’t.”

“And why’s that?” “Whatever Etho told you, that’s not the full picture. You don’t know this guy.” Tango met Jimmy’s eyes. “They will kill you.”

“That’s ok-“

“No!” A wave of red surged through Tango’s eyes. “Jimmy, you don’t understand. If you go in there, you will die.”

Etho’s skin was almost freezing, prickling as it seemed to suck the heat out of Tango’s hands. He was curled limply on the ground until Tango pulled him in, wrapping his arms around him. Black veins crawled their way across Etho’s muscle, shimmering under his skin. Tango’s own chest was still as he frantically watched, unmoving, for the rise and fall of Etho’s. He waited to hear the beat of his heart. To feel the warmth return to his body. 

“And I won’t let that happen.” Tango strode forward. His face was set, though not quite emotionless. He looked up at Jimmy. “I’m doing this because I care about you.” 

Tango reached out to either side of Jimmy, fire blooming in his palms, then grabbed onto his golden yellow wings. The metal frame dissolved under Tango’s touch, warping and deforming the careful shapes Tango had worked so hard to perfect. The heat spread further and further through the mechanisms, crushing all of the miniscule gears and circuits into a mess of molten metal. The liquified feathers seemed to bleed over the rest of the wings, leaving trails of red hot copper in their wake. Tango’s hands cut gashes through the intricate machines, melting into golden slag on the ground. Jimmy found himself almost petrified, unable to stop him.

Tango stepped away, his hands still glowing bright orange. “Sorry.” He closed his fists, smothering the flames licking his palms. The door slid shut behind him.

-

- the wither’s powers like poison a person if they use their powers. jimmy’s power is on like all of the time so yeah he’d just straight up die after like 20 mins. tango can turn his power on and off kind of, its always there a little bit but him not using it kinda like dampens it. tango also is one of few superpowers who don’t rely on their powers, so the wither has much less of an effect on him

- ethos power: some kind of enhanced empathy. he can feel everyone else’s emotions and can tell when they’re lying. also, his emotions can be felt by others if they’re strong enough, which is why hes so guarded all the time. his power is like jimmy’s where it’s on all the time in the background

- some background of the thing with etho and tango: i headcannon that when they were younger, etho and tango were aspiring vigilantes and were like goofing off or something and stumbled into the wither’s hideout. etho almost died but tango was able to drag him out. etho’s eyes are now permantly solid black and there are black veins under his skin. that situation is partly why he’s a crime lord now

#writing #creative writing #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 24 #bad things happen bingo #prompt: “i’m doing this because i care about you" #fandom: traffic life #ttei #tangotek #rancher duo

[queenkaiju]

I Can't Be Without

Maribat Febuwhump Challenge

Marinette remembers walking out of the convenience store, ramen in the bag on her shoulder. Then black. It was just supposed to be a quick run to the store for dinner.

When she came to, she felt bindings around her legs, arms and torso, strapping her naked body to hard, cold metal. She screamed her voice hoarse, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. A warehouse if she had to guess. She sat in the darkness, blindfold firmly in place and tears flowing unrelentingly for what felt like days.

Finally, the silence was broken. She'd hoped it was her boyfriend and his family come to rescue her, but no. It was a voice she'd hoped and prayed she'd never have to hear again.

"Oh, princess. Beautiful as ever. Even if you did let that street scum touch you." She couldn't see him, but she felt his hand cupping her cheek. She let out a strangled cry, biting his hand. Hard.

"Shit!" Adrien drew his hand back, cursing under his breath. A moment later, he chuckled, shoving a ball gag in her mouth. "Naughty, naughty, M'lady. You may not see it now, but I'm doing this because I love you."

"Please, don't." She sobs around the gag. She couldn't do anything as the man she once loved smirked at her. A smirk she once associated with victory now promised a world of pain.

She floated in and out of conciousness, not able to do anything but cry as she tried to tune out the horrible sensations.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? All she knew is that she ran out of tears somewhere along the way. She's dead inside.

-

Marinette had been missing for three days, and Jason was worried. At first, he'd thought she'd left, but everything she owned was still in their apartment. Her clothes, her laptop… the Miracle Box. When he finally opened it, the kwami had no idea where she was, but they knew who took her. He'd destroyed the apartment that day.

He stormed into the Batcave surprising Bruce and the rest of Jason's replacements. They got over their shock at seeing him alive quickly enough.

"Help her," He begged, on his knees before Batman. "Please, Bruce, help me."

It took two weeks to find footage showing where Adrien took her. He was out the door before Tim finished his sentence.

_

Lightning cracked behind Jason as he ran over the rooftops of Gotham. He desperately raced, pushing his legs to go faster, farther, ignoring the burn throughout his body.

He could hear the rest of Gotham's vigilantes in his ear, asking him to slow down, wait up. He can't.

His pace didn't falter in the slightest as he crashed through the skylight of the warehouse Marinette was being kept in. His guns were out before he hit the ground. As he took in the sight around him, his vision tinged green. Various racks of weapons, tools and sex toys. A not-quite-human sound escape his throat as he riddled the display with bullet holes.

He heard a soft noise behind him and whipped around. Jason felt his blood run cold as he saw Marinette's broken, bloody and bruised naked body strapped to a metal table. A familiar tall, lanky man was looming over her, a jug of water in hand. Jason stormed forward, grabbed Adrien by his hair, and threw him across the room.

Adrien sat up, blood matting his hair. He coughed and sat up. "Well, well. If it isn't Red Hood. Or should I say, Jason."

At the sound of his name, Marinette started struggling against her restraints. The green haze receeded from his vision, and Jason ran over, pulling the rag off her face. "Jason…" Marinette whimpered. He was about to start undoing the straps when something heavy and blunt hit him on the shoulder.

He slowly turned around, the madness coming back full force. "You…" He growled out, stalking toward the blonde bastard. Jason could see the fear in his eyes, the tremble in his hands as he dropped the plank he'd hit him with. "I'm going to kill you."

He leaned down and grabbed Adrien by the collar. The smell of urine filled the air as he hefted him over his shoulder and slammed him into the ground. Adrien hit the floor with a loud, resounding crack. Jason knelt down and pinned him to the ground by the throat.

The Pit was screaming at him, desperate for blood. Jason punched him. Again and again, each hit earning him a satisfying crunch, and a blood spatter. He finally stopped when Adrien's head was sitting at a very wrong angle, with a dribble of blood leaking from his mouth, mingling with the rest from his forehead.

Adrien was dead. The voices whispering in the back of Jason's mind should be gone, but they're not. He pulled out his gun and shot him. Once. Twice. He emptied the whole clip into the corpse on the floor, blood pooling and staining the tiles underfoot.

With his bloodlust finally sated, Jason turned back to Marinette. Seeing her cleared the fog from his mind and he raced over, panicking. "No, no, no. Marinette? Marinette?!"

He quickly untied her, the rope burns around her wrists and ankles and the rest of the wounds covering her body causing bile to rise in the back of his throat. He took off his jacket and balled it up, pressing it to one of the worse cuts on her side. There's so much blood. Why won't it stop?! "Marinette, love?" He put two fingers on her neck, feeling a faint pulse, getting weaker. "No… no, not like this. We promised! We're not allowed to die! Please!" He sobbed, pulling her to his chest.

"Ja… son…" She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I... love… you…"

"Marinette?" He looked up, seeing her blue eyes start to glaze over. "Marinette?!" He brushed her tangled bangs out of her face. "Mari? Please, don't leave me…" Her chest slowly lowered under his hand and didn't rise again. "Mari?! Marinette!?"

A hand fell on his shoulder, and the only thing stopping him falling into another murderous rage was the rapidly cooling body in arms.

"Jason…" It was Dick. "I'm so sorry."

#I only got 24 of the prompts #but that's fine #febuwhump #adrien agreste #jason todd #marinette dupain cheng #mlb x dc #maribat #batman fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #DCUValentinesDay2024 #hurt no comfort #angst #cw blood #cw waterboarding #cw toxic relationship #cw torture #cw violence #did I make you cry?

[arecaceae175]

Febuwhump Day 24: Bloody Clothes (Legend)

AO3 link. Warnings: blood and injury, but it's not graphic

Based on pelicanpig's request on AO3 :)

“Just a little bit further, Vet. Come on,” Hyrule muttered, voice shaking. It was more to himself than anything. Legend very clearly couldn’t hear a word he said. 

One of Legend’s arms was strung over Hyrule’s shoulder. Hyrule had one hand grasping Legend’s, keeping hold of Legend’s hand in a tight grip, and his other arm was around Legend’s waist. Hyrule tried his best to keep his hand from hitting any of Legend’s wounds, but it was no use. Legend’s clothes were drenched in his blood and Hyrule couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.

Legend’s foot caught on a root and he pitched forwards. Hyrule tightened his hold around Legend’s waist, making Legend cry out in pain. Hyrule’s legs weree already unsteady with exhaustion and he couldn’t stop them from tumbling to the ground. He was able to shift so that he hit the ground and Legend fell on top of him in a heap. 

Legend’s eyes were shut tightly, his face drawn in pain. His breathing was steady, if a bit shallow and quick. Hyrule grit his teeth and quickly pushed himself to his feet, keeping one hand on Legend to keep him steady. 

“Lege, we’re so close, I need you to get up. I can see the smoke from the fire from here,” Hyrule pleaded. 

Legend sucked in a deep breath, then slowly nodded his head. 

“Okay, ready? On three,” Hyrule said, bracing Legend’s arms. “One, two, three. ”

Hyrule did most of the work dragging Legend to his feet. Legend leaned his entire weight on Hyrule, and his head lolled to the side. Hyrule’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Legend?” Hyrule said. “Are you with me?” 

“Fuck this,” Legend muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes. Hyrule huffed out a breathy laugh and shook his head as he pulled Legend’s arm over his shoulders again. Hyrule could see Legend gritting his teeth against the pain, determined not to make a sound. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Hyrule said. “Just a little further.”

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #febuwhump day 24 #bloody clothes #fic #tw: #blood #injury #not graphic tho #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fic #lu legend #lu hyrule #ace writes

[baubeautyandthegeek]

The Clever Wolf Is The One You Love - Tamerlane Usher/Verna

A/N: Day 24 of @febuwhump , gif by @whoreofthecottage

"I’m doing this because I care about you…" The words haunt Verna, after. Tamerlane, who she had truly tried to save, still dies, dies horribly, really. She’s still beautiful, wide eyes glazed to a paler brown-blue, cheek and skin cut to ribbons but still soft, still incredibly soft. Verna holds her there, sobs into the girl’s hair and thinks, thinks hard. It's easy to pick up the mirror shard, gritting her teeth as she slices deep into herself, drawing a howl of pain and blood, her touch soft as she pries Tamerlane’s mouth open, letting just enough drop to wake the girl. Tamerlane’s eyes widen, a soft snarl of need escaping the girl before she grips Verna’s arm, sucking hard at the wound, healing slowly. Her eyes clear, turning a softer brown-hazel, skin heals slowly, feet first, then legs, arms, stomach and up, the wounded neck crunches as it heals, then slowly the cuts, leaving only the one at her cheek when Tamerlane pulls away with a gasp. Verna moves gently to smear a little blood onto the cheek cut, watching her arm heal in time with Tamerlane’s cheek, then holds the girl close as she cries, collapsing from pain and loss moments later. She wakes to silence, sunlight streaming in through the open curtains and stares, watching Tamerlane smooth her hair, then dress, the same soft green as usual, her sigh soft when the girl’s wings flutter from her back, standing even as her own flick out in return, padding closer to wrap Tamerlane in her arms, her voice softly low. “Oh my Dove…. My sweet, sweet Dove.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump 2024 #day 24 #tfothou #the fall of the house of usher #fall of the house of usher #verna #verna the fall of the house of usher #verna tfothou #tamerlane usher #verna/tamerlane #tamerlane/verna #vernalane

[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.”

#SilvrAsh writes #febuwhump #day 16 #day 24 #pre-LU #lu twilight #botw link #botw riju #this is /technically/ complete...but there will be a continuation on day 25 #for those who want to know what happened to Link while they were apart

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 24 - bloody clothes

This was like the first one I wrote and I didn’t realize yesterday’s was going to focus on Cloud, so here we are, Cloud suffering twice in a row. Sorry man. You’ve had a pretty rough time this month XD

Minor blood/injury warning :)

Courage of ages explanation

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Mini watched in silence as Cloud strode resolutely down the hallway in front of him, biting his lip when the older hero’s breath wheezed a little.

They’d barely said anything to each other since they’d been separated from Hibiscus and Sprite in the middle of a fight against some armored knights, Mini only asking whether Cloud had been okay after he’d seen him get hit. Cloud had brushed him off and they had continued through the odd dungeon where they’d ended up, hoping their missing companions were still in the temple somewhere.

They hadn’t said a word to each other since.

Mini could hear Cloud’s breath starting to rasp in his throat though, and his steps had slowed drastically in the past few minutes. He suddenly stumbled, and had to lean against a wall for a second, and Mini couldn’t stand watching him push himself any more.

“Cloud, I think we should stop,” he said quietly, coming up to his elbow.

Cloud swallowed and took a rasping breath, then pushed himself off the wall and kept walking. “No, we need... we need to keep going.”

Mini bit his lip and put a hand on Cloud’s arm.

”Cloud if you keep going like this you might hurt yourself more,” he continued, looking up at him worriedly. “I know you said it wasn’t bad, but...”

Cloud continued to walk, though it was more of a stumble now. “Mini... we’ve got to find Sprite and Hibiscus, or they...”

He stopped suddenly and hissed in pain, clutching at his chest.

Mini felt his stomach drop and darted around in front of Cloud, carefully pulling his hand off his shirt. He stared in dismay at the red starting to soak through Cloud’s tunic, crimson staining the green, and he gently tugged the hand still in his own.

“That looks bad Cloud.”

“N-no, I’ll be okay,”

Mini frowned. “Are you sure?”

Cloud winced, putting the hand not in Mini’s over his chest again. “We don’t have time to stop, we have to find, ngh, Sprite and Hib...”

Mini tugged on his arm. “Cloud, please sit down, it’s okay, they can wait a little longer.”

Cloud swallowed and looked down the hall, worry in every line on his face.

“But what if they can’t? W-what if we’re... we’re too—”

“Well you won’t be any use to them like this!” Mini cried, and couldn’t help the scared note that snuck into it. Cloud obviously needed to rest, why couldn’t he see that?! “I won’t let you push yourself until you drop, I don’t care what your reasoning is! You’re hurt!“

Cloud stared down the hall in silence for another few long moments.

Then he pressed his eyes shut and sighed heavily, squeezing Mini’s hand. His shoulders sank as the fight abruptly drained away from him, and he suddenly looked completely exhausted.

“You’re right Mini,” he whispered, then slid down the wall to land on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Mini sat down next to him without a word, and gently began unbuckling his sword strap so he could help bandage the slice.

“We’ll find them Cloud, but we gotta wait and fix you up first,” he said, helping him tug his tunic off. He helped him get out of his under shirt and half-busted chainmail as well, then breathed out a short breath at the deep slice sluggishly bleeding across Cloud’s chest. “That doesn’t look even remotely okay,” he said quietly, and Cloud sighed again.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, voice taut with pain.

Mini didn’t bother arguing, and dug through his bag, sighing at the single measly potion he had left before handing it to Cloud. “Here. Let’s see if this’ll be enough.”

He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be though.

Cloud nodded then gulped down the potion, wincing as it began to work at knitting his skin back together, sealing flesh and fusing muscle back to how it was supposed to be. Mini leaned forwards once it was done, studying the slice. It wasn’t fully healed, but it was more of a shallow cut now, and a bandage or two would probably do it.

He sighed in relief and pulled out the roll, Cloud helping him where he could in bandaging it. They were both silent while he worked, and Cloud didn’t look Mini in the eye, only wincing a little as he was patched up.

“I think we should stay here a while longer and rest,” Mini said when he’d finished, sitting down next to Cloud. “We could both use a break.”

Mini looked up at Cloud, still staring quietly off down the hall. He knew mentioning directly they were stopping solely for Cloud’s sake would never go over with the other hero, but making it seem like they both needed the rest would hopefully convince him.

Cloud nodded.

Mini sighed in relief and settled in next to him, hoping his body heat would ward off the the chill from the stones they sat on.

The hall was silent for several long moments.

“I’m sorry for scaring you Mini,” Cloud suddenly whispered, and the small hero pressed himself tighter against his side. “I just... I hope they’re okay. I was late helping someone once, and she was hurt because of it. I... I can’t let that happen again.”

“It won’t,” Mini reassured gently. “The others are tough. They’ll be okay, I know it. And I know you weren’t trying to scare me. It’s okay.”

Cloud tucked the trailing edge of his sailcloth around him, and Mini leaned his head on his arm.

“...but don’t do it again, okay?”

Cloud nodded with a small smile, and not long after fell asleep, Mini right behind him.

#short and sweet #legend of zelda #legend of Zelda au #courage of ages #coa cloud #coa mini #writing from the floor #febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #day 24 #bloody clothes

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hunter & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Trooper Hunter Characters: Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair (mentioned) Additional Tags: Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Trooper Hunter Gets a Hug (Star Wars), Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Sibling drama, Vampire Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch, Vampires, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Vampire Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Vampire Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Clone Trooper Hunter Angst (Star Wars), Febuwhump, Febuwhump 2024, Prompt: Alt. "I Love You" Series: Part 9 of The Vampire (Blood) Batch

Summary:

Many things changed since losing Crosshair. Including their... species. If that's what it can be called. Hunter thought they'd be fine, but he didn't realize when Tech said they'd have a "telepathic connection" that they can all now read each other's minds.

Read on:

https://www.wattpad.com/1424360310-the-bad-batch-one-shot-collection-febuwhump-day

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14330645/1/Febuwhump-Day-Twenty-Four-Alt-2-I-Love-You

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #febuwhump day twenty four #febuwhump day 24 #day 24 #day twenty four #the bad batch #hunter #omega #hunter and omega #vampires #vampire AU #vampire hunter #vampire omega #angst #hurt/comfort #family #vampire clone force 99 #i love you

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 26: "Help Them" / Compelling Voice

@febuwhump prompt: "Help Them" @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Compelling Voice

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Crosshair Set when the Batch are newly solo in the field. Continuing from where my WIP fic Pieces Of The People We Love ends puts Hunter at about 18, Crosshair at 21/22. Word Count: ~1335 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Hunter is injured, but orders Crosshair to continue with the mission

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Crosshair could see it all through his rifle scope. The blaster marks burned through Hunter’s armour. The deep red slick of blood spreading down his side, gushing unstemmed from a hidden wound.

“Hunter,” he hissed, and it was all he could do to keep his voice from cracking. “I’m coming for you.”

“No.” It hurt to hear Hunter’s laboured breathing through the com, right by his ear, knowing Hunter was so far from his reach. But his brother’s voice was firm, if strained. “Hold your position. Finish the mission.”

“I have eyes on the field. Tech and Wrecker are nowhere near you. You need help-”

“These civilians need help!” growled Hunter. Crosshair could hear the hitch of pain in his words. “Do your job, Crosshair. Help them.”

“But-”

“That’s an order.”

Crosshair hesitated. He was still getting used to this new Hunter. The Hunter who was still his little brother, but who came with an edge of command in his voice that compelled Crosshair to obey.

“Crosshair!”

“On it,” Crosshair ground out through gritted teeth.

His scope lingered over his brother a moment more, watching Hunter sag to one knee, then come back up, pistol and vibroknife ready.

And it was hard, so hard, to drag his sight away to focus on the droids harrying the retreating civilians. To shoot them down with pinpoint precision, teeth clenched, every shot fretting whether Hunter would still be there when he looked back.

Don’t look back.

Hunter ordered him to do this.

Don’t look back.

*

It had been a sober flight back after the engagement. The newly christened Havoc Marauder cruised through the slipstream of hyperspace, a muted pall of success hanging over the small squad.

Their third solo mission. Their third consecutive victory.

Their first major casualty.

Hunter had stubbornly refused his brother’s aid when they had checked on the evacuated civilians, determined to stay on his feet and see the mission through. He was taking his new role as sergeant seriously. Now he grit his teeth in half-grin, half-grimace, and insisted he was fine as he fought to stay conscious on the journey home.

Crosshair ignored that assertion and directed Wrecker to put additional pressure on the haemostatic bandage below Hunter’s ribs, whilst he checked with Tech how long it would take them to reach Kamino.

Now Crosshair palmed the door to the freshers open, stalking in on bare feet with barely a whisper of sound. Water was plentiful on Kamino and returning troopers took full advantage of it; none moreso than Hunter.

Crosshair had discovered long ago that Hunter retreated to the freshers when he was overwhelmed, or just needed time to think. He wasn’t sure what it was; if it somehow deadened the range of his enhanced senses, or merely drowned other sensations out with the immediacy of the drumming water. Either way, Hunter would spend hours here if their schedules allowed.

The faint saline scent was pervasive, the water never truly purified after being pumped from the oceans outside. Narrowing his eyes, Crosshair peered through the haze of steam. His younger brother stood under the cascade of water, head tilted back and droplets crashing onto his face with abandon.

Hesitantly, his gaze tracked down Hunter’s body. He was used to seeing his brothers bruised and battered from fights when they were training. Red welts would darken to purple, then fade to green-yellow as the bruises healed. As cadets they had been vaguely proud of the marks, proof of how hard they worked in the simulators, comparing who had the biggest, the best, the shiniest bruise from each training session.

This was different. Rust-coloured rivulets ran down Hunter’s hips, thighs, calves, as he gingerly washed away the crust of dried blood around the deep wound in his side. Laser-burn spidered angry and red against his tan torso, and a myriad other scrapes and bruises scuffed his skin and left him wincing as the salt-tinged shower rinsed them clean.

Crosshair held his breath, watching the lazy swirl of blood-stained water circle the drain and disappear.

His brother. His little brother. Bruised and bloodied and proud and defiant.

He let the breath out; a sigh of relief.

Too loud. On the exhale, Hunter heard him. He startled, whipping round with a curse and grabbing a towel, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he stepped out of the water.

“Kriff sake, Cross, what are you doing sneaking up on me?” he snapped, though it was half-hearted. He quickly wrapped the towel round his waist, then folded his arms defensively in front of his body. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Enhanced senses on the blink?” said Crosshair, but the words were flat, a response almost by rote. His brown eyes bored into Hunter’s, searching, but Hunter’s expression was guarded and he looked away.

“What do you want, Crosshair?” he asked, face scrunching in a frown. The fresh ink of his newly filled-in tattoo shone dark and bright under the glaze of water on his skin.

For a moment the question stuck in Crosshair’s throat. He returned Hunter’s glare and choked out the bitter words.

“Why did you order me to leave you?”

Hunter stared at him blankly for a moment, then turned away, grabbing a second towel and wringing the water from his hair.

“I didn’t. I told you to finish the mission.”

“It was the same thing.”

Hunter’s shoulders moved in a slight shrug.

Crosshair’s long fingers dug into Hunter’s shoulder, spinning him back round to face him. “You could have died,” he snarled, pressing into Hunter’s space, forcing the startled younger clone to step back. Then the heat dropped from his expression as he traced his fingers down Hunter’s chest, pressing them to his side at the edge of the wound which had started to seep fresh blood where Hunter had disturbed the scabs.

“Crosshair,” began Hunter warningly, bringing up a defensive hand. But he winced as Crosshair’s fingertips brushed the tender, swollen flesh around the wound, and Crosshair seized on that small victory.

“Little idiot,” he muttered, and grabbed his brother. Pulling him into a hug, he felt Hunter’s arms go round him in response, his damp body pressed against Crosshair’s blacks. The sniper knit his fingers in his brother’s hair and buried his face against Hunter’s bare shoulder, taking a shuddering breath.

“Am I going to have a problem with you following my leadership?” asked Hunter, the sound of a grin carried in his words.

Crosshair squeezed him so tightly that Hunter grunted. Then he released him, stepping back and shoving him a little more roughly than would be considered playful.

“You give stupid orders,” he said sullenly, swiping away the gleam of wetness on his cheeks from where he had pressed his face into Hunter’s neck.

Hunter merely grinned wider. “When have we ever followed orders?” he quipped. Tossing the towel in his hand to his brother, he reached out to shut off the water. “Make yourself useful and help me dry my hair. It’s going to pull my side if I have to do it myself.”

The faintest smile touched Crosshair’s lips and he reached up and draped the towel over Hunter’s head, gently rubbing water from his hair. “Don’t get used to this,” he murmured, half tease, half threat. “If you tell Tech or Wrecker I dried your hair for you, I’ll shave it off again.”

“Do that, and I’ll break all your fingers.”

Crosshair grinned. Something in his chest felt a little less tight. Hunter the Sergeant and Hunter his little brother weren’t so different.

He watched as Hunter relaxed under the gentle massage of the towel, eyes closing with a soft sigh.

He looked young. Too young to be on a battlefield.

Too young to be stood in the freshers with his lifeblood seeping out such a deep wound.

Crosshair held his brother close in something that was half an embrace, carefully drying Hunter’s hair just-so.

He would do anything to protect his family.

He knew it.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday26 #“help them” #badthingshappenbingo #compelling voice #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #hunter and crosshair #soft brothers #to make up for torturing them on days 15 and 24 respectively

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Febuwhump 24: Those Words

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows Summary: Wylan had heard those words time and time again. They had never once rung more hollow then they did now. Warnings: Canonical child abuse, verbal abuse, and parental abuse Word Count: 1,219 Ship(s): Wylan Van Eck/Matthias Helvar/Kaz Brekker/Jesper Fahey/Inej Ghafa/Nina Zenik

Archive link!

Returning to his home had felt like a slap in the face. He now knew what it was like to be loved and cherished, what it was to wake up to the face of someone that adored you smiling down at you, what it was like to make sure someone filled your belly and wrapped up your hands. 

When he was a child, it was so much easier to assume that what he had to endure was normal. He didn’t know that almost no other children were put through the strict testing and probing that he was. He had no idea that the other little boys and girls weren’t enduring the countless revolving door of people that were coming to try and fix him. He didn’t know that someone should be cherished throughout their entire being, that love wasn’t something that could just slip away when someone grew.

He knew better now. He had Nina’s everlasting love as she found out what kinds of things he really liked to eat and enjoyed them with him. He had Kaz’s strict love as he made sure to protect what was his and secure Wylan as his asset. He had Jesper’s overflowing fountain of love, whispering soft words to him and kissing every single inch of his body. He had Inej’s quiet love as she sat up with him during nightmares and told him stories of her own parents. He had Matthias’ shy love as they danced around each other until they were ensnared like a dog’s tangled leash.

He knew that was what love felt like. It felt like someone taking the bucket he had been scraping against the dirt for as long as he remembered and bringing it to the ocean. It felt like both of his hands clasped within others, either gloved or calloused or soft or bare. It felt like safety and security and cloves.

That had all been taken away from him, even if it had been done with the kissed promise of it being returned to him as soon as possible. He knew that there would always be his partners waiting for him if this charade got to be too much, but he would still have to sneak out of his home and to them. He had grown accustomed to them being in the main room of the tomb or walking amongst the moonlight, fog hidden gravestones in the surrounding area. They were still back on that island, planning what they were going to do next with the information that Wylan was able to give them.

The charade had to be kept up for the entirely of the plan to work. He knew that and it was tearing him apart.

He had been shoved back into the steps that he had run so far from when the canal water had woken him properly. Before he had his eyes opened to the abuse of his life, that the things his fathers and tutors did to him were distinctly not normal, he had walked this very path. He would wake, wash, eat, and then be pushed into the room with the tutor of the week. They would beat him with crops, belts, rulers, and basically anything else they could find. He would get through a couple of short sentences before his eyes were so blurred with tears from the pain that he couldn’t see the words even if the letters did make sense. He would get dinner with his father and Alys if he had managed to make progress in a way that someone else approved of, regardless of how well he felt he had done. The guilt would gnaw at the hunger in his gut and make it so that he couldn’t sleep, so he would study even longer to try and make up for his inadequacy.

Now he knew that his inability to read was something akin to Kaz’s leg. It was an injury, though his was in his mind, and it was something that would never really heal. He knew enough to get by when he was trying to find street signs or recognize someone’s name. He didn’t need to be able to read fluently when he had people that would read to him the way that his partners had already promised him that they would.

It seemed as though the petulance that he had carried with him from Black Veil was only going to get him in trouble. The tutor that he had before had been hired back on to try and make the best of the situation. Jan couldn’t very well have him assassinated while the entire Merchant Council was paying attention to them because he had faked missing Wylan, after all. He had to keep up appearances for everyone outside of his home and for those inside, because servants talked.

Every time Wylan said something about how he didn’t need to take what the tutor was dealing out, the punishment came quickly. It started with something that he was used to, something that he could handle. The swats on the back of the head with the book he was supposed to be reading only ever smarted, the smacks on his wrist with the sharp edge of the ruler would leave welts but those could be soothed during his bath. He could even handle the insults that were slung at him because he would drown them out with the voices of his lovers. 

They had reassured him of so many things before he left, sent him with their best wishes and affirmations of their love. Jesper had said, “You’re the cleverest little arsonist I know. Which is actually a compliment, I know many.” Inej had said, “You will always be you, no matter how much they try to change you or tell you that is not enough. It will be enough for us and for you.” Nina had said, “I’m going to get you the best sweets for doing this, even if you’re my favorite sweet.” Matthias had said, “You are stronger than all of us combined, to face this willingly just to help us get free.” Kaz had said, “If you don’t return to me, I’m going to raise you from the dead. Not even Ghezen gets to take what’s mine.”

The problem was when the punishment increased beyond what he had ever faced before. He stopped being invited to dinners and they got simpler. They had never eaten highly extravagantly unless they were trying to show their wealth off to other Merchant families, but they had still eaten well. Eventually his food was watered down to nothing more than broth or oats soaked in milk. Then he had to spend longer and longer in his study, to the point where the tutor would leave him locked in there overnight and come back the next morning expecting a miracle. 

“I’m doing this because I care about you.”

That was the last straw, of course. He was tired, he was hungry, he was aching all over his back and his thighs from being struck with the metal end of a belt the day before. He wanted his partners back, the real people that cared about him instead of the ones that pretended to so they could use him for something.

“No, you don’t.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #soc #six of crows #shadow and bone #sab #wylan van eck #child abuse #child neglect #parental abuse #verbal abuse #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 24

[theshiaxartist]

Okay XD So maybe I had to much fun playing with DarkJak's look.

Wanna help me make a Jak and Daxter Tarot deck?

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

#Shiaxart #Jak #Dark Jak #Febuwhump day 24 #Blood #shirtless #demonic