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tildeathiwillwrite · 14 days

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The Lodge

(Trials of the Six, Chapter 1 Scene 1)

WoW Birthday Whump Event Day 14 (2nd Iteration): (Alt) Amnesia, Poison

Whumpril Day 30 ("Out of Time")

WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

TW: unconsciousness, amnesia, fighting, blood, stab wounds, death, cornered, poison, headache, dizziness

So… fun fact: @whumperofworlds and I share a birth month! Hers was on the 11th, and mine is today! So in addition to Day 14’s contribution, here’s a snippet using one of the alt prompts for one of my personal favorite whump tropes: amnesia, with the first character I ever gave it to, Hiel.

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“Get up, kid.” A man’s voice, rough and distant.

“Come on, wake up!” A woman’s voice, soft and frantic.

A hard slap sent sharp pain across his face. His eyes snapped open. He lay on the floor of a wooden lodge, where a roaring hearth lit the scene with warm light. A woman crouched over him, exhaling in relief when his eyes opened.

“By the skies, Hiel! Don’t scare us like that!” She rocked back onto her heels, brushing red-blonde hair away from her face.

Hiel pushed himself into a seated position, dizzy. “What… what happened?” Something large and furry pushed against him, and he turned his head to find a giant cat, as long as he was tall, nudging his arm with her nose. He hesitantly petted the fur behind her head.

“When I get my hands on that woman, she’ll wish she’d never been born!” Hiel flinched at the sharp tone from someone he hadn’t noticed, a man with dark hair and beard who leaned over a table on the opposite end of the one-room lodge, arms folded.

“Korfel,” the woman began, getting to her feet, “Elya is gone. No clue where, but we accomplish nothing dwelling on the past.”

The man’s name was Korfel. Why did Hiel not know that? Why didn’t he know his own name until the woman addressed him as Hiel? “What’s going on?”

The woman turned to him, surprise and confusion in her expression. “What do you mean?”

Hiel rubbed his aching temples. “I… I don’t know anything.”

“You mean you… don’t remember?” She cursed when he nodded hesitantly. “Now I want to murder a healer.”

Korfel scowled. “Just what we need,” he muttered angrily. “Can you still freeze things? Fight?”

“I freeze things?” The space behind Hiel’s eyes started throbbing. He pressed a hand to his eyes in a crude attempt to soothe the aching. “Why does my head hurt so much?”

“Probably a side effect of the "medicine"—" Jarsali traced air quotes around the word— "Elya gave you. You were out for several minutes before we noticed something was wrong.”

Hiel struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on a nearby chair. “Who are you people?” he demanded, panic rising.

The woman shifted away from him slightly, unnerved. “Well, I’m Jarsali. The angry one is Korfel. You’re Hiel, and the giant fanged simoldon is Nial, your pet… cat…thing?”

She was about to say something else before the door burst open. Two people ran inside. A pale man with blue hair was first, heavily favoring his leg. Right behind him was a dark-skinned woman who slammed the door behind her. They both carried packs that seemed to have been filled in a hurry.

Korfel shoved a chair under the knob. “I asked you to get supplies, not have the whole town up in arms!”

The woman held her hands up defensively. “They attacked us first!” She flinched at the look Korfel gave her and the blue-haired man. Muffled shouting came from outside the lodge, and Hiel realized that asking who these new people were right now was not the best move.

The door shook as someone from the other side kicked it. Korfel cursed under his breath and grabbed a curved sword from where it had rested on the table. The new woman tossed her bag on the floor and drew a thin obsidian knife, and Jarsali snatched up a quarterstaff from where it leaned against the wall.

The chair splintered with a crack, and the door flew open, sending it across the room and narrowly missing Hiel. Warriors in leather armor brandishing spears poured inside, engaging the defenders. Korfel charged those in front, knocking spears aside and slashing wildly at their owners.

Jarsali swung her staff at the leg of the closest warrior with such speed Hiel briefly lost track of it. With a sickening snap, the warrior collapsed to the floor, moaning and clutching his broken knee. Nial used his body as a springboard to get to the one behind him, claws out and snarling viciously.

Hiel backed away, feeling incredibly useless. Even if he remembered how to fight, there was no way he’d be able to do any good in this state. He noticed that the blue-haired man hung back as well, though he seemed like he’d be more formidable even with his injured leg.

A warrior somehow got past the combined strength of Jarsali, Korfel, and Nial. He charged straight at Hiel, who stumbled away so the chair he was leaning on was between him and the attacker. The warrior kicked aside the chair with ease and charged.

Before he could get any closer, the woman with the knife darted inside his reach and thrust it into a seam in his armor. He stumbled back, clutching at the wound. The woman was relentless, pressing him back and baiting him. The warrior overextended his spear, and the woman slipped within his reach, driving her knife through his throat. He collapsed, blood bubbling from the fatal wound.

“You’re welcome,” the woman said as she passed him, wiping her knife off with her skirt and dashing towards the wall. She ran her fingers across the wooden panels, searching for something. Hiel picked up a leg from the broken chair and watched her curiously, keeping a wary eye on the battle.

The woman tapped along the seams between panels, eyes narrowed. Another warrior got past the others and ran straight for the woman, whose back was to him. He would have stabbed her through the heart with his spear, but he instead inexplicably flew backward, right into the spear of one of his allies.

Korfel quickly finished them both off with a well-placed slash. “We're out of time, Raiann!” he shouted as he engaged another.

“Almost!” Raiann dug her knife in between two panels and pried one away, revealing sunlight and a snow-covered landscape. A river flowed nearby, with a boat moored to a small dock. The boat’s sail was tied down, it wasn't going anywhere quickly. A cold wind gusted through the opening as Raiann pulled off another board and sheathed her blade. “We’ve got to go!”

The blue-haired man limped past Raiann and stumbled over the threshold of the impromptu back door. She caught his arm and helped him down, taking on some of his weight and half-dragging him towards the boat. Hiel glanced at the warriors trying to force their way to the front, unable to get past Jarsali or Korfel.

“They’re escaping out the back!” One of them shouted, seeing the opening.

Korfel cursed and retreated. The tip of his blade dropped to the ground, and he reached out his hand. The ground below their feet rumbled as his expression calmed, but his eyes burned with anger.

Nial sprang back towards Hiel and stood before him protectively. Hiel hesitated for only a second before staggering towards the opening in the wall. With a light “mrrp?” noise, Nial leaped through onto the snow after him. Hiel shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as the giant cat accompanied his stumbling steps to the boat that bobbed in the river.

He clambered on the boat and leaned heavily on the railing, the dizziness returning in full force. Nial moved to his side and settled down next to him. Jarsali, staff in hand, leaped onto the deck and dropped it with a clatter onto the deck. She shoved a bundle of heavy cloth at Hiel as she faced the stern. “As soon as Korfel gives the signal, be ready to move this rig!”

Hiel unfolded the heavy cloth to find it was a thick coat. He pulled it on gratefully and opened his mouth to thank Jarsali. But before the words could form, the lodge shuddered violently.

The small boat rocked as the water began to swirl around. Hiel flinched and grasped at the side of the boat for dear life as Korfel appeared through the opening, running at a full sprint to the boat.

He threw himself over the railing and shouted something unintelligible as the lodge shook like an earthquake was assaulting it. The sounds of rushing water filled Hiel’s ears, and the boat suddenly accelerated, moving downstream at an impossible speed. The last glimpse Hiel had of the lodge before it was out of sight was the walls collapsing in on itself, warriors fleeing the falling building.

@fourwingedsnake @whumpril @pigeonwhumps

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uuuhshiny · 1 year

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Russell Crowe in the Sum of Us

#by uuuhshiny #uuuhshiny's gifs #Russell Crowe #whumpril2023 #whumpedit #RC gifs #whumprilday30 #Holding hands #Don’t let go #Whumprilday19 #I’m worried about you #Whumprilday28 #Bedside Vigil

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Far From Over

Gilly Lopez x OC Josephine Costa

Chapter Index

For Day 30 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: holding hands / human shield / "Don't let go"

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, blood/injury

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: We did it! We made it! Last day of whumpril, babyyy!!! Thank you for everyone who came along for the ride. Special shout-out to @narcolini for being the other half of this insane whumpril journey with me, and for also giving me the idea of this entire dynamic. What better way to end whumpril than to come up with a new OC to torture? Iconic. And in true Tay Fashion there will be more for these two. Trust.

Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @gemini0410 @mijagif @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @littlekittymeow @artemiseamoon @nessamc @withmyteeth @crowfootwrites @beardburnsupersoldiers @winchestershiresauce @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @justazzi @darqchilddaydreamz @proceduralpassion @camelia35 @danzer8705 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

When she’d shown up to the clubhouse, Josie had already known that it was going to be a bad idea. Going into it there was no hiding the fact that it was going to backfire on her, coming and pushing that door open when weeks before Gilly had told her that she should, for all intents and purposes, consider it permanently locked. So she had prepared herself for it to be messy. She had prepared herself for the worst case scenario, or rather, what she thought was going to be the worst case scenario.

She’d been preparing herself to get reamed out by Gilly, yelled at in front of the guys from the MC for having the audacity to show up after everything she’d done. She was ready for everything about that. What she hadn’t been ready for, though, was being thrown into a fucking shoot-out.

Getting into a public spat with Gilly was now officially the least of her problems. All of that worrying about what he was going to say when he saw her, how he was going to react to it all, and he wasn’t even there. She hadn’t had the time or the courage to ask where he was, but now she was wishing that she had. It was too late now—there were too many other larger problems to deal with.

“Come on,” EZ’s voice snapped her to attention, putting a temporary pause on the trembling that was wracking her entire body. “I need you with me.”

She nodded, following him even though she had no idea what he actually needed from her, if she was really going to be any help. Telling him no wasn’t really an option at this point. He flagged down one of the other girls that was there, one Josie remembered working behind the bar when she used to actually be allowed into the clubhouse.

The woman tossed Josie one of the bottles that she had been holding. By some minor miracle, Josie managed to catch it before following her and EZ back through the clubhouse and towards the steps that would take all of them up to the roof. Josie was standing at the back of the pack, and as she watched the other two start climbing up, she found herself rooted to her spot. She was trying to will her legs to move, but she couldn’t.

It was only when EZ reached the roof and turned around to help Josie and the other girl up onto the roof, that he realized only one of them had even started coming up. Looking down, he saw her, fear in her eyes as she stared up at them.

“Josie!” he snapped, waving for her to come up. “Fucking come on, we don’t have time for this.”

There was just enough edge to his voice to get her feet to start moving one in front of the other. Tucking the bottle under her arm, she braced herself against the wall and started to pull herself up to him. When she was close enough, he held his hand out to her and helped safely pull her up onto the roof, keeping her as low as he could.

“Got your lighter?” EZ asked once she was lying on her stomach along with him and Cielo.

Josie swallowed hard, nodding as she stuffed her hand into the pocket of her jeans. Of all the reasons that she should’ve quit smoking, she never thought that being off the hook for having a lighter on her would’ve been one of them.

He was holding the end of his bottle close to her as he waited. When she finally pulled the lighter from her pocket, she pushed the bottle away. “Not so close to my goddamn face, Ezekiel,” she said, trying to shout and whisper at the same time.

“Sorry,” the apology was more compulsory than it was sincere, but it was something, and that was more than anyone could ask for given the current situation.

Once the flame caught the fabric, EZ shot up onto his feet and threw the bottle as far as he could. He stayed standing for a few beats longer than he should have, somewhere between admiring his work and trying to figure out what the next best move would be. He stayed up too long, though, and when the gunfire picked up again, this time they were aiming directly for him.

Josie didn’t think twice about it as she reached and drove the bottom of the bottle in her hands into the back of his knee, causing him to drop to a kneeling position. She heard him curse, and she was ready for him to snap at her, but when she saw the look on his face she knew that he understood exactly why she had done what she did. The mild throbbing in the back of his leg was better than a bullet being buried in his sternum.

“Next one,” he said, motioning for Josie to hand him the bottle.

They did it that way a few more times over. Josie was lighting the bottles for EZ and Cielo, allowing them to aim and throw. When they were starting to get down to their last few, Cielo went and dropped back down, intent on getting more bottles to throw.

When it was just the two of them waiting for Cielo to come back, EZ couldn’t help but to ask, “What the fuck are you doing here anyway?”

Josie let out a shocked laugh. “That’s your fucking question right now?”

“I just—”

He was cut off by the string of bullets that came flying up towards them, far too close for comfort. Both he and Josie were cursing under their breath as they scrambled back towards the opening that led to the clubhouse stairs. EZ was all but shoving Josie down them first. Both of them saw Cielo about to climb back up and they both frantically told her to back away and give them room.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Cielo asked as EZ’s boots hit the floor.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He motioned for both of them to follow him. “But come on, get in here—stay away from all the fucking windows.”

There were a few moments of stillness, silence that no one could manage to take comfort in. Josie was slumped down on the floor, her back against the bar as she listened to the eeriness of it. She’d heard a term for it before, one that Gilly had said at some point in the past, most likely referencing something that wasn’t nearly as intense as the phrase called for.

Pressing her forehead against her knees, it hit her and she whispered to no one but herself, “Riot quiet.”

“What?”

Josie lifted her head, not realizing that Cielo had been sitting so close to her. Looking over, she shook her head. “N-nothing. Sorry. Talking to myself—trying not to freak the fuck out.”

Just as Cielo was about to say something else in response, there was a thudding sound on the roof. Everyone froze, looking upwards as they heard the series of thuds making their way across the roof. EZ and Angel grabbed their guns, making their way towards the hatch that would lead down into the clubhouse. They remained silent, guns pointed and at the ready.

Every logical bone in Josie’s body was telling her to stay put, but she still found herself pushing herself up off the floor, trailing behind them. She wasn’t close enough to be in the thick of it, but she was close enough to listen to everything that was going on. She heard the creaking of the hatch open as everyone shut off their flashlights, heard the sounds of someone coming down the steps.

Her fists were clenched, pressed tightly against her own chest. It felt like everyone in the clubhouse was holding their breath as EZ turned his flashlight back on.

“Get that fucking light out of my eyes!” Gilly’s voice boomed through the cramped space that they were all packed into.

Without even realizing it, Josie let out a shuddered sigh of relief. She leaned back against the wall, trying not to let herself crumble to the floor. She could hear them all talking in the background as Gilly got the rest of the way inside, him and Coco both coming down from the roof, but she couldn’t really make out any of the words that they were saying. She was too wrapped up in just listening to the reassuring thrum of Gilly’s voice, somehow getting something out of it even though he had more anger in him at the moment than anything else.

As the whole crew of them made their way back to the main part of the clubhouse, they passed right by Josie, who still had her back against the partial wall that had separated the main expanse of the clubhouse from where they had all been standing and ready to nearly blast Gilly right back up onto the roof. She watched them all as they walked by, Angel and EZ, then Gilly, then finally Coco. None of them were saying much of anything now as they watched Coco and Gilly take stock of the entire situation.

Gilly turned to look around the clubhouse, try and see just how severe all of the damage was. It was only then that he saw Josie, pressed back against the wall like she was trying to fade right into it to avoid being seen by him.

“Josie?” he said it like a question even though there was no one else that it could possibly be.

“Gil—”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he cut her off.

She scoffed, the relief that was coursing through her now balanced out by her frustration. The situation they were in wasn’t Gilly’s fault. That was true for the shoot-out and their breakup, but he was still the easiest person to take it all out on.

Her fear got set on the backburner for a moment as she said, “Trying not to die in a fucking shoot-out, Gilly. What are you doing?”

“You wouldn’t be in a fucking shoot-out if you just stayed the fuck away like I—”

“Hey!” EZ cut them both off. “Sort this shit out later.” He focused on Gilly. “Come on. Grab a fucking gun.”

Gilly looked over at the table where everyone had piled their guns. Confusion took over his entire face as he looked around to the rest of the members of his club. “Where the fuck are the rest of the guns?” When no one had an answer for him. He shook his head. “Fucking unbelievable.”

Josie watched as he grabbed one off the table. She couldn’t help but to look around at the other men in the room, trying to piece together if any of them really had any fucking clue what was going on. She wondered if any of them even had a semblance of a plan or if they were all feeling just as lost and confused as she was, but they were just better at hiding it.

The room because quiet again as everyone reached for their own guns, getting ready to dive into the next wave of whatever the entire situation was about to play out to be. It felt like the room was split clean down the middle between those who were ready to do something even if they didn’t know what, and everyone who was too confused, too lost and scared to even think about doing anything. Josie wished that she felt more in control of anything than she really did, herself included.

“Alright,” EZ’s voice cut through the quiet of the room, causing everyone to turn and look over at him, “we’re gonna—”

His sentence was cut short by a tirade of bullets tearing through the walls of the clubhouse. Everyone was screaming, crying, dropping to the floor either out of fear or because they were buckling underneath the impact of a bullet. Everyone that had grabbed a gun turned and started firing back, not even bothering to wait to get up to the windows so that they could actually aim.

It was hard to tell which bangs were from bullets going out, and which ones were from bullets coming in. Angel and EZ were already up against the windows, finally in a position to aim their shots. Gilly was coming up behind EZ, ready to perch his gun on the sill right beside him, all of them so controlled in the face of so much chaos.

Josie tried to leech some of the certainty off of them, find just a shred of it in the middle of everything, but she couldn’t. Her hands were shaking in front of her as she watched them. All the times that she’d been with Gilly, been at the clubhouse, she’d never had the misfortune of being caught in the midst of anything like this. All good things really must come to an end, apparently.

She was already halfway back down to the floor, trying her best to get low and out of the line of fire when she felt something tear through her shoulder. She got half a scream out before she clamped her hand down over her mouth, stifling the rest of it as she fell ungracefully the rest of the way to the floor.

Gilly’s head snapped around when he heard the short sound of pain she let out. His anger battled with his concern, the myriad of conflicts he was feeling painted clear as day all over his face. Turning back around, he fired two more shots before shoving his gun into Coco’s chest and walking over to where Josie was sitting on the floor.

Her eyes were shut tight, so she didn’t even see him coming over. Her head was pressed back hard against the bar behind her, like the pain and pressure against her skull would distract her from the pain shooting through her shoulder and down her arm. It didn’t help, but she couldn’t stop.

“Come on,” Gilly reached, grabbing onto her good shoulder, “you gotta get behind the fucking bar.”

“I can’t—”

He cut her argument short. “They shoot your leg?”

“No but—”

“Then you can fuckin’ move. Come on.”

For abrasive as he was being with her, he was still keeping her alive. It was more than he was obligated to do at that point. Josie knew that, too, so she kept her mouth shut as she used her good side to grip onto Gilly’s arm, allowing him to pull her out of the shock that was beginning to settle into her bones as he got her into a crouching position so that they could scurry behind the bar. He kept himself between her and the window, a shield between her and anymore bullets that might stray lower than they bargained for.

When they were finally behind the bar, one of the few actual barriers the clubhouse afforded them, Josie collapsed back to the floor again. There were a few comments on the tip of Gilly’s tongue about it, but he reminded himself at the last minute that this shit was his life, not hers. Normal people usually couldn’t just push through taking a bullet to their shoulder—of all the things that he could hold against her, that wasn’t one of them.

“Lean forward,” he finally said, “and let me see.” There was a deep frown on his face as he looked at her, concern bubbling up in the midst of the gunfire and other things he should’ve definitely been worrying about instead. “Seriously, Jos, why the fuck are you here?”

She winced in pain as he touched near where she’d been shot. “It’s really not the fuckin’ time for this conversation, Gilly.”

“You’re the one who showed up and put yourself in this mess so really—”

“Fuck you,” she snapped, immediately cringing afterwards as another jolt of residual pain went through her shoulder. “If I had known that you were all gonna be knee-deep in shit I wouldn’t have shown up.”

“Shit aside I told you that you have no reason to fucking come back here. This is what you get, Jos, because you never wanna fucking listen.”

“Getting shot is a fair punishment to you? For showing up for a fucking conversation since you blocked my goddamn number?”

“What the fuck is there to talk about?!” He was yelling and angry, but he was still moving Josie’s hand so that it was covering her bullet wound, applying pressure through her hand with his own.

“Eva’s wedding!” she snapped back at him, not wanting to even mention it now because it felt so stupid and small in the face of all they were dealing with, but she knew Gilly well enough to know that he would be too stubborn to let the topic drop before he got his answer.

Her reply caused him to lean back, weight shifting to his heels as he studied her face. Part of him felt like she must’ve been joking, but he knew that there was no way her brain was working well enough in the moment to come up with a lie like that. The whole scenario truly was just as absurd as it sounded.

“You’re right,” he conceded, “It’s not the fucking time.”

In direct opposition to everything that was happening to her and around her, Josie let out one short laugh. “Told you.”

Gilly shook his head at her but he didn’t say anything in response to her quip. Instead, he reached for her hand that was in her lap. He couldn’t deny that he did feel a bit of sympathy, guilt even, at the pained expression on her face as he lifted the hand on her bad side to put it over the other that was already there. He pressed them together, trying to encourage her to do the same before pulling his hand away. He went to stand up, put himself back in the fight, when she reached and grabbed onto his hand, not caring about the jolt it sent through her, the way the pain made her grip on him that much tighter.

“Gilly—”

“Look, the bullet is still in there, but you’re gonna be fine,” he said with a nod, sounding sincere with her for the first time in far too long. “Just, just keep the pressure, okay?”

“What about you?” she asked, her hold on his hand not loosening. Despite all that she’d done, she still cared. She knew that even before this mess, but now it was a fact that she couldn’t push back form the forefront of her mind.

Gilly wouldn’t ever admit to the fact that the pain in her face, the worry in her eyes, almost made him soften for a second, almost made him backpedal just the tiniest bit. But he held his ground the best way he knew how. “I’ll be fine. Always,” he sighed and shook his head, “always fucking am.”

She knew that she had no right to try and make him stay there with her. He didn’t owe her anything at this point, and he never passed up an opportunity to drive that point home to her. Regardless of the mess that they were stuck in together right now, a mess that she really shouldn’t have been a part of in the first place for countless reasons, the current circumstances didn’t change the fact that his loyalty in the moment belonged to his club. Still, even though all of those facts were so salient in her mind as she looked at him, she still didn’t want to let go of his hand, didn’t want to let him go back into the fight.

Every day for weeks, Gilly had been wishing that things were different. He wished it now, too, but for other reasons entirely. He wished they were different so he could try to say something that would air just enough on the side of humor to be reassuring to her. They were long past that now, though. Too much damage had been done.

“Just, just lock your fingers,” he did it for her as he spoke, “like that, and press. Don’t let go, don’t stop putting pressure on that.”

If things looked more hopeful than they did, he would’ve tacked on a comment about how when it was all over, he’d find someone to dig the bullet out of there for her, but he had never been a good liar and he wasn’t certain that they were all going to walk out of the mess that they were in together. Instead, he just pressed her hands a little harder, knowing that whatever pain she was feeling from it would be far outweighed by the benefit of slowing the bleed.

When Gilly finally backed up, getting ready to go and rejoin the rest of his club, Josie almost reached out for him again. She managed to stop herself, thinking that she owed him this one thing, this one time of listening to him if nothing else. All the shit they’d been through, shit that she had put him through, she could give him this. It was a lingering thought in the back of her mind that it might be the last thing that she would be able to do for him.

She watched as he disappeared back around to the other side of the bar. She shut her eyes again, feeling her tears for the first time in the middle of all the chaos. Her face was soaked with them, with sweat, but she’d been too distracted by the rest of it to even notice. But now it was just her, the other girls hiding out behind the bar, and deafening sound of her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to listen to what else was going on. She could hear the guys cursing, giving directions to each other, but once again none of the specific words really sank in with her.

What she did notice, though, was how the sounds of the bullets were beginning to slow. The lack of gunfire should have been something that provided comfort, but it didn’t. Even with as far-removed as Josie had been from this side of club business, she was smart enough to know that just because the firing stopped, it didn’t mean that the fight was over. Whatever the mess was that she had accidentally thrown herself into, it was far from over.

#whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday30 #don't let go #human shield #holding hands #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfic #gilly lopez #gilly lopez x oc #oc josephine costa #oc josie #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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isamajor · 11 months

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Whumpril days 26 to 30

I’ve made it (I’m late, I know) but I did fill the 30 prompts of Whumpril ! :D

26 – Explosion

They hadn't seen the rune on the ground. Kaidan advanced at the head of the group at a good pace in these ruins until the explosion was triggered. One step inside the magical circle was enough, and everyone was brutally blinded by the explosion and thrown against the walls of the crypt. Kaidan felt his lungs suddenly emptied before he felt the painful bite of the stone against his back. The flames had briefly licked his face, leaving an abominable burning smell in their wake. His ears were ringing painfully. Everything around him was dusty and blurry. (98)

27 – Forced to kneel

All it took was a moment of inattention for a blade to slip under his throat. It had been recognized and some had acted on it. Caryalind could already count himself lucky that his throat hadn't been slit yet. The attacker asked him to keep his hands up and kneel down. The prince tried for a moment to defend himself before complying, the blade still pressed against his Adam's apple. What were they going to do, bind him up and bring him back to his father? Or torture him in order to make him pay for the faults of the whole Thalmor? (104)

28 – Semi-conscious

Taliesin muttered weakly, trying to say something. Gore told him to stay calm, cradling the Mer's long body in his arms. Stubbornly, Taliesin tried to move, in vain. He felt too weak to move his limbs which seemed to weigh a ton. He could only squeeze Gore's hand. His eyes fluttered. He didn't remember what happened to him.

« ...Where am I ? »

It was the only thing his furred lips could articulate. The Altmer could hear around him the buzz of the bustle around him, without understanding what his companions were saying. He felt weary, so weary... (99)

29 – Surrender

All that for a stray arrow that had mowed down a chicken in the town. The population had become hostile and a horde of guards was already running, swords out. The blows rained down and they defended themselves as best they could. Lucien squeaked "We surrender!!!" while holding his hands high, hoping for mercy from the guards. The others watched the scene apprehensively. Instead of politely apprehending him or letting him speak, the guards threw him to the ground, shoving him facedown in the mud. Seeing this, his friends saw red. Despite Lucien's protests, they violently attacked the guards. (100)

30 – Human shield

Before these Draugr, these ancient Nords reanimated by who knows what old magic and who watched over the secrets of Dragon priests, Inigo the Brave was nothing more than a terrified little kitten. These undead froze his spine, and the memories of receiving his facial scars from their withered fingers were still painful. Lucien stood between the Draugr's blade and his friend, like a shield, with glints of defiance in his eyes, chin high and fire magic in his palms. The scrawny blond Imperial was just as frightened, but he couldn't afford to show it: his friend needed him. (101)

•••

You can read all the drabbles I’ve made for Whumpril 2023 (and other prompts) here [x].

#whumpril #skyrim #skyrim custom followers #whumprilday26 #whumprilday27 #whumprilday28 #whumprilday29 #whumprilday30 #Kaidan #Caryalind thallery #Taliesin #Lucien Flavius #Inigo #explosion #forced to kneel #surrender #semi-conscious #human shield #knife to throat

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em-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

holding hands

@whumpril day 30

Hero and villain

206 words

Warnings: hanging off the side of a cliff

a/n: do I know what this is? nope :] am I posting it anyway? you bet

---

“This is where we say goodbye, Villain,” Hero says, looking over the edge of the cliff. She takes a step back and closes her eyes, “It was never going to work.”

Villain sobs, gripping the crumbling rock with all her strength. She shakes her head and bites her lip, “Hero! Please! Please! Just…just pull me back up. Please!”

Hero peers over the edge again, tears welling in her eyes, “Villain…”

“Hero.” She begs, “Look at me, please?”

She bites her cheek and falls to her knees, taking hold of Villain’s wrists. “If I do this,” she says, pulling Villain up, “You’ll come home with me?”

Villain swallows thickly and closes her eyes, she nods. Hero half sobs, half laughs and pulls Villain up the rest of the way, wrapping her arms around her once they were both far enough away from the ledge.

Hero laughs into Villain’s shoulder, wetting her shirt with tears. She rolls onto her back, Villain awkwardly laying across her stomach.

Hero sits up and maneuvers them both so that Villain sits in front of her. She puts her hands on either side of Villain’s face and rests her forehead against hers.

Villain laces her fingers with Hero’s and they sit there, unmoving.

#em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #whump #whump fic #whump writing #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain whumpee #whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday30

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acasualcrossfade · 1 year

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Whumpril Day 30: Holding Hands

Squeeze My Hand: A Parallel Story

Written for @whumpril Day 30: Holding Hands | Human Shield | “Don’t let go.”

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington (age 6) and his mother

Eddie Munson (age 6) and Uncle Wayne

When both kid Steve and Eddie are hurt, both have someone there to hold their hands through it.

Crash.

Steve can hear the ticking of the bike wheel, the sound of muffled shouts. He squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden burning on his knee. There’s red on his knee, it looks like his marker spilled.

He blinks, and before he can do anything, there’s arms around him. He smells his mother’s floral perfume and cuddles into her. He’s not crying fully, but small tears seep down his cheeks.

“Stevie, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Steve uses one small hand to wipe his eye. “M-my knee.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” his mom says and carries him inside. Steve watches as the world passes from his mother’s arms. The green of the yard, the white door swinging closed and slamming just as they start up the stairs. Steve watches the carpet of the stairs grow as his mom climbs them, and he shuts his eyes.

The white tile of the bathroom greets him when he opens them. He’s sitting on the counter; he can see himself in the bathroom mirror. His mom comes back carrying a bottle and band-aids. He recognizes the bottle from when he fell down the stairs and hit his head. “Owwie juice,” he whispers.

His mom nods. “These need some owwie juice, okay, Stevie? But it’ll be okay. You can squeeze my hand if it hurts too much, okay?”

She offers her hand and Steve holds it tight, already preparing.

And when his mom pours the cold alcohol over his knee, he squeezes her hand for all its worth.

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

Thwhump-thunk.

Eddie feels heat and the grainy ground in front of the trailer. The sky is blue above him, the sun is in his eyes, and he feels something burning up his leg and shoulder. A small sob coughs out of him and in seconds, his uncle’s face is above him.

“Eddie? Geez, kid, you okay?”

“U-Uncle W-Wayne?”

“Woah, woah, don’t move, I gotta make sure your head’s okay.”

Eddie whimpers as he feels his uncle’s rough fingers on his forehead before feeling his ears and then and behind his ears and neck.

“You fell down the steps, son. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Owwie on my arm,” he tells him as another sob cries out.

“Ah, I see it. Must hurt.”

Eddie cries as he nods. His knee looks scribbled with red and his elbow looks the same.

“I’ve got you, kid. “C’mon, we’ll get ya cleaned up.”

Eddie can feel the ground fall away as his uncle picks him up.

“It’ll be okay, y’know? I’ve fallen down these stairs a few times myself.”

Eddie watches the door to the trailer slam shut as they enter the familiar home, and then watches how the room swings and he watches the couch get farther away as they head past the kitchen and into the bathroom.

“You have?” he asks curiously, hiccupping over cries. His uncle places him on the seat of the toilet. “But y-you’re big.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t trip just like you,” his uncle says, reaching under the sink and emerges with a bottle and Band-Aids. “But these owwies need some alcohol, okay?”

Eddie whimpers.

“This won’t be a walk in the park,” his uncle continues, already dabbing the clear liquid on a piece of gauze. “But I’m right here. And you can squeeze my hand if it hurts too much,” he says, offering his free hand.

Eddie pouts but nods and when his uncle dabs the gauze against his small, scribbled knee, Eddie squeezes his hand for all its worth.

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 1 year

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Whumpril 30 Holding Hands | “Don’t let go.”

TW: implied abuse, referenced cannabilism, Christianity, Islam, referenced death, suicidal thoughts and feelings

Note: this isn't quite Canon because it contradicts details and I wrote it over a month ago. But I still like it.

Jay sat down on Ezra's bed. "I'm glad I get to see you at least one more time before I die."

Ezra grabbed Jay's hand. "You're not going to die. Please don't talk like that. You can't give up."

"It's okay," Jay said. "It's better than being alive most days. I wonder what happens after death. Mentally I mean. Or spiritually. I know what will happen physically, Colt told me."

"I don't know. My parents told me about Heaven, but I'm not a Christian anymore. I guess if you are then you have a chance. My grandparents were Muslims, and I don't think either of us has done what's required to make it to their Heaven. They're very strict."

"Whatever it is, I hope you're there with me. Just the two of us. Maybe other people if they're nice."

"Yeah. I hope so too." Ezra sighed. "Hang on, what did Colt say he would do with your corpse? You didn't elaborate on that."

"Oh, he said he and Christopher were going to cook up and eat me. It's a good way to get rid of a body, apparently. Are you going to join them in that?"

"I- What the fuck?"

"Oh I'm sorry." Jay tightened their grip on Ezra's hand. "Please don't let go. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. But are they really cannibals?"

"That's what Colt said they did with everyone before us."

Ezra's first thought was to presume Colt to be a liar. But it made some amounts of sense. Camnabilism was a convenient way to get rid of a body, not to mention playing into Colt's sense of sadism. And Ezra knew Christopher to abhor wastefullness.

"Do you want me to?" Ezra asked. "Eat you, I mean."

Jay smiled. "I'd like that. I love being useful."

"Then I will if they let me. I don't know what else to say, really."

Jay rested their head on Ezra's shoulder.

Taglist: @devourerofcheesecake @elim-flower @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whump-by-robin @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpshaped @seetheothersideofparadise @knittedeyebrowsandcardigans @whatwasmyprevioususername @boonasaurusrex @suspicious-whumping-egg @heavenly-whumper @melancholy-in-the-morning @snakebites-and-ink @suck-my-clit-loser @i-eat-worlds @scp-1296 @chibichibivale

#Whumpril #Whump #Whumprilday30 #Cannabilism whump #Eden #Whump drabble

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crash-bump-bring-the-whump · 1 year

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Whumpril 2023 - Day 30

This is it!! The finale for my @whumpril saga!! Thank you @brinkofdiscovery for letting me borrow your hot beautiful amazing dragon priest!!

TWs: Non-explicit gore (impalement)

Holding Hands | Human Shield | “Don’t let go.”

"It's okay." Mariano said, one hand resting on Santiago's bicep. "If we need to, I can distract it."

The priest certainly couldn't fight the feral, adolescent dragon that was roaring and carrying on in the field they needed to cross. It hadn't been there when they'd crossed on their way to the spring, but that didn't really matter. This was the only way into town--at least, the only way that wouldn't take them another three days to get to.

That wasn't an option; Acero needed this holy spring water sooner rather than later.

"We...what is your plan?" Santiago asked, dark eyes glancing to Mariano as they huddled under their cover. Nerves tinged his normally-steady voice.

Mariano hummed, gaze staying on the dragon. "We can't sneak past it. We just need to run." He glanced to Santiago, making sure their jars of holy water were still wrapped and secure in Santiago's bag. "I'm going to keep its attention. No matter what happens, you just need to keep running."

Santiago swallowed before nodding. "Let's go." Together, they both burst from the cover.

The mass of brilliant, red scales went quiet. It turned its head. Mariano felt his blood chill as the dragon spotted them. He locked eyes with it. With a roar it charged, talons kicking chunks of dirt and flowers high up into the clear sky. Wings spread, head low to the ground, the dragon quickly started to close the distance.

Magic springing to his palms, Mariano turned his focus to his opponent. Santiago knew what to do. He knew he had to just keep running. Two shots of magic sailed through the air, hitting the dragon square in the nose and forehead. The shining plasma dispersed over the dragon's face like sparks from a campfire, not slowing it in the slightest.

Intense red eyes locked onto Mariano, though, ignoring the colorful priest in the fluttering clothes. It snarled out a challenge, sending fire spewing towards Mariano. He dove out of the way, rolling to his feet and back into a run. He needed to stay between Santiago and the dragon no matter what.

Mariano threw more magic, aiming at the dragon's face, blast after blast ineffectively bursting against the scales.

They were almost there. The wards around the town were just there, just another minute of running away. The sound of claws ripping through earth and snapping teeth were so nearby. A massive thud made Mariano whip his head around, just in time to see the dragon turning, furious eyes locked on them both.

The dragon's spine-covered tail sliced through the air. Santiago was still too close to be safe. Mariano lunged for him, managing to shove him to the grass, below the arc. The tip of the tail caught Mariano, wicked spikes digging into him.

Mariano's breath was stolen by the impact, unable to even cry out. He was flung through the air, past Santiago, to tumble to a stop in the flowers. Something was still lodged in him, he realized in his daze, as he tried to push himself back to his hands and knees.

Mariano collapsed, his limbs only managing to tremble when he tried again. Looking down, it didn't take more than a moment to figure out what had happened. One brilliant, ruby spine was sticking out from his stomach. It had torn through his shirt. When he breathed, it made his back scream.

He looked up again.

Santiago stood between him and the dragon now, broad shoulders squared. He had something in his hands, some glass jar filled with a powder. He wasn't running.

"No...!" Mariano gasped. He tried to pull his magic to his hands, but Santiago raising a hand stopped him.

The dragon snapped its jaws toward them, and in a flash, Santiago ripped the lid off and threw the open jar at its mouth. The dragon jerked as its jaws closed, long neck recoiling backwards with a harsh cough. As though the jar had been filled with the most disgusting thing the young dragon had ever tasted, it scrambled away.

"What...?" Mariano tried to ask what that was. Did Santiago have dragon repellent on him for these trips?

Santiago's attention turned to Mariano then, as he hurried over and knelt at his side. "Oh--gracious." His hands hovered over Mariano's torso, fingers hardly even coming close to the wicked spine lodged in him. "That's. That's going all the way through you."

Mariano swallowed and nodded. "We...I have brink potions." He said. "In my bag."

"Will it be enough?" Santiago asked, eyes finally breaking away from the wound to focus on Mariano's face. "We have doctors in town."

Mariano reached a hand up to place on Santiago's forearm, trying to take a breath. "It will...it will keep me stable. Just...help me back to the temple, first. Please. I can walk."

Santiago looked Mariano over again and hummed. "Back to the temple, then. We can call for a doctor on the way."

Instead of reaching for Mariano's outstretched hand, Santiago scooped him up into his arms and stood. Mariano couldn't help the undignified squeak that escaped, or how he twisted his fingers into Santiago's robes. "Santiago, what--"

"It wouldn't be right to risk you hurting yourself worse. We aren't far now." Santiago said, holding Mariano carefully as he started picking up his pace. "I've got you." His voice was careful, exceedingly gentle, and made Mariano's chest twist in a new, different way. "You'll be okay."

Mariano couldn't exactly argue with that, especially as the pain began to dull to a consistent ache. "Thank you." He said, starting to relax in Santiago's arms. Santiago knew what to do.

It would be okay.

#whumpril2023 #whumprilday30 #human shield #gore #impalement #mage of violence #santiago #I LOVE SANTIAGO THANK YOU #he's so sweet and pretty and hot and--#everyone fall in love with santiago now 🔪#ALSO THAT'S THAT #THAT'S WHUMPRIL #I can't believe I actually finished a month long challenge without burning myself out #amazing

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whumpacabra · 1 year

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Day 30 - Holding Hands

Hospital setting, hand holding, broken bones [leg], heart monitor mention, paralysis and nerve damage

[Directly follows "Can you hear me?"]

“You look…tired.” David breathed, RJ cracking a smile and rolling their eyes.

“You look like shit yourself.” Their voice was husky and comforting. The pair were alone in David’s room, RJ in a hospital wheelchair and David in his bed.

“How long was I out?” He winced at the subtle pity in their eyes.

“A day or so. Katie told you that when you woke up.”

“Right - right. Sorry, Harrison’s been grilling me all day and…” David yawned, aware of the irony of being tired despite not moving an inch. “…it’s been a long day.”

“He giving you trouble?” There was a dangerous undercurrent to RJ’s voice that tugged a smile to his lips.

“Oh yeah, it’s been rough. What with the waterboarding and fire torture and truth serum.” His thick sarcasm drew a snort of laughter from RJ. “Honestly though? 8 out of 10, best interrogation I’ve had. Could be improve with the addition of some snacks and refreshments, maybe even, like, a gift card for compensation.”

“I’ll let him know - you should file a proper assessment and post your review when you get the chance.” RJ shook their head, still smiling as they breathed a sigh. They shifted in their chair, casted leg twitching stiffly. “I should probably get back to my room, Katie’s been pitching a fit about me missing pain med doses. You should get some rest.”

Distress welled in David’s chest. He swallowed thickly, trying to will his hand to reach out and take theirs. He only succeeded in making his fingers twitch. They unlocked their chair’s wheels, turning to leave.

“…wait - wait. Please.” His voice seemed small, even as the empty tile floor amplified it. RJ froze, looking back at him with wide, gentle eyes. “I just…nevermind. It’s stupid.”

He could feel heat rise on his cheeks, a mix of frustration and embarrassment as RJ rolled closer and locked their wheels again.

“What? What’s wrong?” Their eyes darted around the medical equipment surrounding the bed, every monitor and wire singing a soft chorus to his rising blood pressure and unsteady heartbeat.

“It’s nothing - it’s dumb, don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me.” RJ reached out and held his hand, their skin cold and slightly damp. He breathed a sigh of relief, the contact a welcome confirmation. He was there. They were there. They were both alive.

“Thank you.” He closed his eyes, managing to coordinate a gentle, weak squeeze of their hand with his own clumsy fingers. “I just…I’m not dreaming. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

“Yeah.” RJ’s grip was firm and reassuring, their voice cracking as they spoke. “We made it.”

[Directly before Sleepless]

(Part of my Freelancers: Retirement series)

#whump #whumpril #whumpril2023 #whumprilday30 #hand holding #recovery #broken bones #nerve damage #paralysis #freelancers #andddd DONE! lost steam the last few days bc of travel but it’s done and on time o7 #let’s end this on a happy note :] these two deserve a break #and this time I’ll remember to post the actual narrative chapters now that I’m not working on a challenge lol

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ordon-shield · 1 year

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Whumpril Day 30: Returning the Favour

holding hands | human shield | “don’t let go”

ao3 link

(authors note: this is based on the theory I have for how TotK might start)

There’s no time for Link to think.

There’s a tide of malice flying at him and Zelda, and he pushes himself in front of her, the Master Sword held outstretched in his hand, as he takes it head-on. She’d done the same for him once, over a hundred years ago, so he supposed it was just returning the favour.

The tendrils of malice writhe as they burn their way up his arm, his armour melting at their touch and dripping down onto his skin. He held back a scream from the pain, trying to remain steadfast. Even through the pain, he was able to keep hold of the Master Sword, the holy blade shining with light as it tried to fight off the encroaching darkness.

He felt the ground shake, and start to crumble beneath his feet. Turning around, he realised Zelda had slipped, falling down off the edge of a cliff that had opened up under her.

He threw the Master Sword aside, all thought of fighting gone from his mind as he leapt forwards, arm reaching out to Zelda. He could see what the malice had done to it now, the burnt and blackened limb shining from within with the familiar shine of malice peeking through the cracks. Even so, he tried to catch her, only to miss by mere seconds, their fingers almost entwining as she fell out of reach.

He falls too, until he feels something grasp his wrist, his arm straining from the sudden pressure. It’s the last thing he feels before he blacks out.

Link wakes up with a new arm. He’s somewhere he’s never seen before, which is saying something when he’s travelled every inch of Hyrule over the last few years. The trees are odd with their yellow leaves, and the strange constructs that roam the area, some hostile and some friendly. He finally realises where he is when he reaches the edge of the island and sees the kingdom of Hyrule laid out below him, like a colourful map.

The problem is that Link doesn’t remember how he got up there, and more than that — the last thing he remembers is venturing out on a journey into the caves with Zelda by his side. Whenever he tries to remember what happened after that, his head aches and his arm burns. He’s still determined though, to find out what happened, where Zelda went, and to reunite with her once more.

#totk #tears of the kingdom #totk fanfic #totk fanfiction #totk theory #whumpril2023 #whumprilday30

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sinvulkt · 1 year

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Angstpril: 30. LOST HOPE - evil au - second (successfull) escape

@whumpril - Day 30."Don't let go."

My breath raced as I followed Rema throughout the corridors. I felt floaty, disconnected. Our steps rang in my ears, and Rema's warmth in my hand didn’t feel quite real. This was stupid, I knew. We’d get caught, and everything would be for naught.

What worse could happen?

My feathers itched where they had been amputated, and I longed to feel the high altitude breeze tease my cheek again. How long has it been since I last flew? How long would it be, before I could again?

I never would.

I had not been made to stay grounded.

I guessed it didn’t matter in the end, whether I went with Rema, or whoever yanked my leash. In both cases, my life was in someone else's hands, caring or not, the responsibility of keeping my heart beating far away from my twisted mind. In both cases, I would never fly again.

Something in me was gone, dead, an empty hole replacing the once bright light pulsing in my chest, and I couldn’t muster the energy to bring it back. Was it not for the strict anchor Aheka had placed in my mental space, I would have been gone already, stomping away from the wasteland of a galaxy that I had burned to ashes.

Everywhere was the same.

“Master, where are you going?”

I froze, guilt and instinctual terror battling for the front seat of my consciousness.

Pat.

I darted a glance at him.

The Togorian stood in the hall, darkness spinning around him. Darkness spun around all of us, these last few days. My heart tightened, longing for the free days we had together, and I slowed down. Perhaps if I stayed… If I stopped disappointing Aheka, stopped being such an ungrateful Padawan… Would everything go back to normal?

(It wouldn't.)

Rema tightened her hold around my hand, pulling me ahead.

“Don’t let go,” she hissed.

I followed, too hungry for the smell of freedom to care for the Padawan I left behind. Something angry shifted in me, whispered that I abandoned him, that I was undeserving of the freedom I chased. I laughed at it. This was far from the worst selfish act I did while soaking in the Dark.

Furthermore, it had never been a matter of deserving. If it was, then the Force had a funny way to show it: I never deserved my place as a Jedi, never deserved the luxury I got in slavery, never deserved to have a fallen Master so kind… I had seen the marks on Kedrick’s Apprentices. Compared to those scars, temporary clipped wings had been nothing.

But it was so much worse now, wasn’t it?

The crackle of a comm being turned on echoed behind us.

“Bring reinforcement to the section 1.3. They are here.”

I tripped at the coldness in Pat’s voice, but Rema’s hold pushed me forward. She ran further, each step dragging us closer to the exit. My head spun from the effort. My muscles had weakened from the months of inaction, as I was kept in the palace like a pretty bird in a golden cage, then even more as I layed near-catatonic on the floor for days to end, and I was now paying the price. I let Rema pull me, limbs awkwardly tripping behind her, uncaring of the outcome.

Soon enough, we reached a nursery. Rema dropped my hand, and I stopped, confused. Vaguely, I remembered something about Rema being pregnant, and meeting her child. The toddler’s name was lost amidst the fog weighing down my mind, however, teasing memories I couldn’t care to recall. I felt like a droid on autopilot- unable to move except if given the command.

An instant later, or an eternity (both felt the same), Rema reappeared, a toddler in her hands.

Solana.

The name finally came to me, ringing loudly in my head now that it had been heard. The child was pressed tightly against Rema’s chest, and I could sense her distress in the Force. In another time, I would have been able to interpret it, and move to fix whatever bothered her. Today, all I could focus on was the inescapable pain pulsing through my wingtips, and the black spots dancing over my vision.

Guards’ stomps and shouts echoed in the hallway, spurring Rema into action.

“Let’s go,” she whispered, taking my hand again.

This time, she took us through shortcuts. We climbed in large vents, hid in tight closets, and passed through invisible wall doors.

We arrived in front of a small hangar door. Rema stopped, and I collided with her back. Recognition wormed its way throughout my dazzled mind. This was Kedrick’s private hangar- where we had stopped last time, and been captured. Already, I could hear guards from the other side of the door. There was no way we would pass and reach the shuttle.

Uncontrollable shivers wracked my body. We’d be caught, I was certain. What would they do this time? Kill me?

But no, they had never been so merciful. Aheka wouldn’t let them be.

A comforting hand settled on my shoulder.

“It’s alright, Sin. I’ll get you out of this.” She looked fondly at Solana as the word ‘you’ escaped her mouth.

She led me slightly to the side, towards a condemned vent entrance. The vent I had climbed in last time, I realized. Her red blade lit the corridor, and soon after, the airway was open. She motioned for me to climb up, but I didn’t react, paralyzed.

“I feel like I’m helping some loth-kitten take its first step, rather than a full-grown Siegrind." She pushed me forward until I was half in the vent, and had to climb in for balance.

“Go through there. I’ll see you on the other side.” She hesitated an instant, before adding more softly. “If anything happens… Take care of Solana for me, will you?”

Before I could react, she was far away, opening the hangar door.

There was a floating moment, during which the troopers inside faltered, their brains taking a bit of time to compute what was happening. The silence only lasted an instant, however, before Rema’s powerful voice echoed.

“I’m here!”

Blaster shots fired through the hangar. A strange tightness settled in my chest, pushing beyond the numbness, pushing beyond the disconnection that paralysed me, and I pushed Solana forwards.

Was Rema alright?

Intellectually, I could feel, in the Force, that she was alive. But there were so many ways to be alive yet dead, to exist in an in-between state only filled with suffering… I crawled through the vent, focusing on guiding the toddler before me rather than the chaotic thoughts filling my head.

Rema's calm face met us on the other side, and my shoulders sagged in relief. I slipped away again now that I had visual proof she was fine, not wanting to stay here a moment more than necessary. My flockmate was strong. She would take care of everything.

Rema helped us out of the vent, then took Solana in her arms and walked inside a shuttle. I followed her like a lost duckling, uncaring of where we went as long as it was away.

But never far enough to escape the truth that my wings were—

I blinked, and found myself strapped to the pilot chair, Solana secured in my lap.

“Sin. I need you to wake up for a bit, okay?" Rema coaxed, her tone gentle but determined. "It’s important.”

I looked at a vague point on the horizon, uninterested. We were on the ship. Beneath me, I could feel the structure vibrate, engines ready to go.

Space was pretty.

“I know you hear me," Rema pressed. "Listen, please.”

The intonation. I turned towards her, gathering what focus I could. Blaster-calloused hands met my cheeks. Rema guided my head forward, until I could do nothing but stare at her cool blue gaze.

“You need to live," She said, weighing each of her words with a Force inflection. "To protect Solana… You need to live." She stepped back, and I almost followed, hypnotized. "Promise me you will.”

I nodded, and she left.

I stared, confused, at the empty space where Rema stood. I had heard the ship ramp retract, seen Rema walk towards the hangar door, yet I just stared on, expecting her to come back. To gather back Solana from my lap, turn back the ship autopilot to manual, and crack a joke about how I truly had fallen for her prank, of course she would never abandon her child. By the time reality finally pierced the fog enveloping my brain, the ship had long taken off and jumped into hyperspace.

Rema had left.

I was alone.

Next to me, the toddler began to cry. Automatically, my wings evelopped her, an engrained instinct trying to stop the child’s whimpers.

#angstpril2023 #starwars #fanfiction #day 30 #lost hope #whumpril2023 #whumprilday30 #“Don't let go.”#I MADE IT #I COMPLETED ALL 30 DAYS #AND I DID IT WITH BOTH WHUMP AND ANGST #(30 whumps 30 angst 30 prompts~)#Yeah ok a few whump prompts are a bit misfits bcs my main goal when i made my plans #Was to complete the angstpril #But they *do* fit!#And both challenge allowed me to succeed in writing those 30 chapters 🥰#Thank you so much for the reblogs < 3 #They are so motivating #All the more with oc - when you cannot hope for feedback #They warl the heart and encourage you to sprint ’till the end #And i did it!!#I completed the challenge 🎶#For the first time 🎶#It feels so good #All the more since the angstpril was my first fic challenge ever (angstpril 2021)#taaoej #the amazing adventures of excentrics jedi #sinvulkt fics #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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