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viva-la-whump · 18 days

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I can now post my fic for the @wildwestzine, 'For a Fistful of Credits'!!! Very lucky and fortunate to have been a part of this and I hope you enjoy!

#me #mine #Star Wars Western AU #Thrawn #Eli Vanto #Pinkertons #mentions of Karrde and Yularen #shootout #gsw #trust exercise 🙃#whump #angst #fic #obligatory use of the word “perhaps”#wildwestzine #For a Fistful of Credits #zine

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump 2024 Masterlist!

Hi everyone! Thanks for joining me for this year's Febuwhump!

Below I have TWO masterlists! One will be in order of prompts and the second will be in chronological order (more or less).

Prompt Order:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

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

Chronological Order:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday23 #Star Wars Western AU #whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #masterlist

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 29

@febuwhump

And now for the last one!!!

Keep an eye out for a comprehensive list of all the fics in one place, both in order of days AND in roughly chronological order, too!

Thanks for coming along for the ride! :)

NOT ALLOWED TO DIE

Gilad Pellaeon’s heavy eyelids threatened to close once more, but for about the dozenth time they flew back open as the hand staunching the flow of blood on his abdominal wound dug in a little harder.

“No you don’t,” said a harsh voice. “You’re the only leverage I have. You’re not allowed to die until I get my brother back!”

Pellaeon coughed weakly, tasting blood on his tongue. “Your brother is guilty,” he said. “They won’t exchange him for me. Not with what he’s done.”

“Shut up!” Once again, the hand dug in, harder this time. The injured man cried out in pain.

Pellaeon didn’t even know this man’s name, just that he had come into the Pinkerton outpost and demanded his brother back – his brother who had been responsible for a fire that had killed five people. When he hadn’t gotten his way, he’d brought out his gun and started shooting. Pellaeon had been shot in the gut and, realizing how desperate his situation was, even in a lightly-staffed outpost, the gunman had grabbed Pellaeon and dragged him into one of the offices, barricading the door, shouting his demands.

Just then, Pellaeon could hear the front door of the outpost open and close, several sets of booted feet walking on the floorboards.

“Clay Tanoo,” came a cultured voice, not one that Pellaeon had heard before and definitely not one that fit out in the wilds of the Republic. “I have your brother here. Now release Detective Pellaeon and come out.”

The man, Clay Tanoo, stepped away from Pellaeon and peeked out of the office window.

Pellaeon wasn’t quite sure what happened next.

Without Tanoo constantly digging into his wound, he finally allowed his eyes to slide shut. He heard sounds, loud sounds that could have been a struggle, maybe even another gunshot. He thought he might have heard (or possibly just felt) something heavy land near him, and then soon the hands returned. Except, these weren’t the same hands. They pressed on his wound, yes, but there was no viciousness to them.

Still, Pellaeon opened his eyes, expecting to see Tanoo’s face above him, but instead he saw a young man with tan skin and brown eyes and hair leaning over him, brow scrunched as he focused on Pellaeon’s wound. Above him stood a tall man with black hair, a gun in his hand pointing at something on the floor that Pellaeon was too weak to turn and look at.

“You did well, detective,” said the tall man in that cultured voice Pellaeon had heard before. “You are safe now. The medics will soon be here.”

Pellaeon let his eyes close again, feeling himself relax now that one ordeal was over. The next ordeal, surviving his wound, would take all the strength he had left…

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 28

@febuwhump

Another alt prompt!

KILLING GAME

It was the first time Kallus had let Ezra go on a hunting trip by himself, and, well, it wasn’t exactly going as planned. He’d had some success catching smaller game – birds, rabbits, even a fox – but he’d need a larger kill if he hoped to get them enough meat for the lean months of winter. Unfortunately, the wolf that stalked towards him had the same idea.

Ezra stared at the large creature, bow and arrow trembling uselessly in his hands. There was no way he’d be able to kill this thing before it killed him, but he wasn’t just going to give up.

Steeling himself, Ezra took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, aimed, and, right as the beast lunged at him, he fired.

Ezra didn’t even look to see where, or if, his arrow struck it; he was too busy staring at the shape that came hurtling towards him, growing larger and larger until it was the only thing he could see. He raised one arm to defend himself before the animal was on top of him, pinning him to the ground and sending him crashing into sudden darkness

---

Ezra woke with a start, his mind filled with the images of fangs and claws and hungry eyes. He tried to breathe, but it was painful, and his head was pounding. That…that was a good thing, though. Right? It meant he wasn’t dead. But he was still surrounded by darkness, only it wasn’t as dark as it had been. He thought he could see stars above him and…was that firelight?

Turning his head with a groan, he saw a small campfire and a man sitting on the other side. He groaned again and closed his eyes, placing a hand on his head to feel bandages wrapped around it. He must have hit his head pretty hard. But that was the least of his worries.

“I guess this means I failed the test, right?”

“I’d say surviving is the ultimate test and so far you're managing that well enough.”

Ezra bolted straight up to his feet, ignoring his pounding head and protesting ribs. That had not been the voice he’d been expecting!

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice more firm than he felt. He reached over to a nearby tree to steady himself as a wave of dizziness threatened to sweep him off his feet. The man stayed seated, unperturbed by Ezra’s outburst.

He looked to be about the same age as Kallus, maybe a little bit younger, and instead of blond sideburns, this man had a dark patch of beard on his chin while the long hair on his head was pulled back into a tight ponytail.

“Just someone passing by,” he answered. “I saw you lying underneath that wolf over there and figured you probably needed some help.

Ezra looked to where the man pointed and saw the wolf that had attacked him lying dead, an arrow sticking out of its mouth. His arrow. His eyes widened in shock. The man smiled.

“That was one helluva shot you made, kid,” he said, his green eyes studying Ezra’s face, his dissecting gaze making the teen feel decidedly unnerved.

“I have a good teacher.” He knew it was true, even if Kallus wasn’t the nicest person to live with, but the admission still made him rankle.

“The same teacher who leaves his student alone in the wilderness with only a bow and arrow to face down wolves as a test?”

“He didn’t know about the wolf,” Ezra shot back, not sure why he was defending the man he hated to this stranger.

The man held up his hands in surrender. “No need to get worked up. You’re in no condition for it anyway. Why don’t you sit down before you fall down, alright?”

He must look as terrible as he felt, Ezra realized. But he didn’t know who this man was or what he wanted, so he had every intention of staying on his feet in case he had to run.

The man smiled again. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he said, and Ezra briefly wondered if he could read minds. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have patched you up. So please sit down before you waste my hard work.”

He guessed it made sense, Ezra had to admit, slowly sitting back down and trying not to wince as his ribs ached. He felt a tugging on his left cheek and reached up to feel two thin, parallel cuts starting to scab over. Looked like wolf had given him a parting gift.

“Alright, so why did you help me? What do you want?”

“Who says I want anything?”

“No one helps others ‘just because’,” Ezra said firmly. “Everyone wants something.”

“Did your teacher tell you that?” Ezra didn’t answer. The stranger smirked. “So tell me,” he continued. “What is it you want?”

“What?”

The stranger shrugged. “You said everyone wants something.”

Thoughts of running away and being free of Kallus, free to do whatever he wanted swam around his head. But he wasn’t about to tell this man that.

“I want you to leave me alone,” Ezra spat, feeling a tugging in his gut that very much did not want that. He didn’t know what it was, but something about this stranger pulled at him, intrigued him. Not that he would admit that, of course.

The stranger sighed, but that smile still lingered around his lips. “Tell you what – I’ll stay through the night, make sure no other wolves come and decide you’d make a tasty midnight snack, and then in the morning, I’ll leave. Do we have a deal?”

Ezra stared at the man and couldn’t help seeing the sincerity in his face. That same feeling in his gut also said he could trust him, but his brain was telling him the opposite. Or maybe that was just Kallus’ teachings.

“Fine,” Ezra agreed, trying to ignore the relief he felt that the stranger wasn’t going to disappear just yet. “But aren’t you at least going to tell me your name?”

“Ah, so there are two things you want, huh?” he chuckled. Ezra glared at him. “It’s Kanan. Kanan Jarrus.”

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 27

@febuwhump

LEFT FOR DEAD

Alexsandr Kallus didn’t know whether he found it difficult to breathe because of the bayonet lodged in his chest or whether it was the small mountain of dirt piled on top of him. Most likely it was both. But he doubted he’d have to worry about that much longer. Soon enough he would stop breathing altogether.

No one was coming to save him. No one could even see him, not covered as he was from the small landslide that had buried him. Only one hand jutted out into the air and half of his face was stuck in the mud, the other half being pelted by the rain that now tried to wash the battlefield clean of the sins that had been committed here.

He had no strength to move. No voice to call out. The only thing he could do was watch. Watch as the area was combed for survivors. He saw man after man being lifted onto stretchers and rushed away to the medical tents. But they’d already passed him by. They wouldn’t be looking back at places they’d already searched.

So Kallus closed his one eye against this cruel, disinterested world, and waited for the inevitable to come.

Only, the inevitable wasn’t what he thought it was going to be.

Kallus was wrenched from the darkness as a hand grabbed his and pulled him out from under his burial mound. The motion put pressure on the bayonet and he opened his mouth in silent agony, having no air for even the tiniest whimper.

“Careful, careful!” he heard someone call, and then more hands descended on him. Gentle hands that carried him and wiped the mud from his face. Cruel hands that poked and prodded at his wound. And still there was that one strong hand that continued to grip his, never letting go. Kallus didn’t have much strength, but he used all he had to grip it back. He wanted it to stay, wanted that anchor, that surety that he wasn’t dreaming.

“You’ll be alright, lad,” a gruff voice said from somewhere above him. “We’ve got you.”

Once again Kallus closed his eyes, thinking now that maybe the world wasn’t as cruel or disinterested as he’d thought.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday27 #Star Wars Western AU #left for dead #whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Alexsandr Kallus #buried alive #stabbed #punctured lung #dispair #pain #rescue #unconscious

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 26

@febuwhump

"HELP THEM"

“We have to help them!” Omega urged, tugging at Hunter’s arm.

“They’re Pinkerton detectives,” Hunter said. “They’ll arrest us the first chance they get.”

“But they’re going to die!”

“Better them than us!”

“Don’t say that! We help people, don’t we? No matter who they are.”

Hunter groaned, knowing that the kid was right, as much as it pained him to admit it this time.

“Fine, but you stay here, and that is not up for debate!”

Before she could utter a word of complaint, Hunter turned his horse back towards where the two Pinkies were cornered by a barrage of gunfire, Crosshair and Echo following close behind.

“Fan out,” Hunter ordered, and the other two split off from him. Hunter continued to charge straight for the two doomed men.

He pulled up his horse behind a barn just short of where they were pinned down. Peering around the corner, he sent a few shots into the mob that was slowly making its way towards them.

One of the men turned in surprise, raising his own gun at Hunter, who quickly ducked back behind the barn.

“Do you want help or not?” he called over the sound of continued gunfire. “Because I’d be more than happy to leave if you want me to.” There was a brief pause.

“Much obliged!” came the response, and Hunter peeked around to see that the brown-haired man had turned his gun back the other way. The other man had never let his attention waver from the crowd.

Hunter sent off a few more shots, then looked around.

There was a ladder leading to the hayloft of this barn, so he quickly climbed that and went inside, where he found a small flock of panicking chickens huddled in a corner. He smiled. Perfect.

---

Crosshair set himself up in a large oak tree in full view of the mob while he himself was obscured from their view by the leaves that shimmered in the wind. He noticed a few people break off from the group, intent on circling around to catch the Pinkies from behind. Crosshair picked them off with ease.

--

The problem with mob mentality, Echo thought, was that it made people single-minded and unobservant. Which was why he was able to ease the two carts they’d come in behind the farm house, one in front of the other, without any one of them noticing. He waited there, keeping the horses still until the right moment came. He didn’t have to wait long.

A flock of screaming chickens erupted from the open barn door, heading straight for the mob, stopping their firing and making them all duck for fear of getting their eyes scratched out by the chickens’ claws.

Echo urged the horses forward then, the animals and carts creating a barrier the mob would have difficulty crossing, what with Crosshair covering their escape from the tree, Hunter from the barn, and the two Pinkertons from the stacks of straw they’d hidden behind.

Echo drew his own gun then and set to firing at the men that were now boxed in with nowhere to go. Between the five of them, they made quick work of the remaining mob. Once the last of them had fallen and silence rang loud, they stepped out from their hiding places and converged in the middle.

“Thank you for your assistance,” the tall Pinkerton with black hair said in an accented voice. “Those were most…unorthodox methods.”

“They work pretty well for us,” Hunter said, gun still in hand, though not pointed at the two law enforcers. His gaze, however, was aimed unwaveringly at them.

“Indeed. And will your friend in the tree be joining us?”

Echo was impressed he’d been able to locate the sniper, but his brows furrowed as he realized that Crosshair hadn’t yet come down from his perch.

“Come on down, Cross!” Hunter called, eyes still not leaving the men they’d just saved.

There was no response. Echo started to walk towards the tree and Hunter finally pulled his gaze away to look back at where his cousin was.

“Cross?”

There was a ruffle of branches as first a rifle fell to the ground, and then a body, landing with a solid thump and a plume of dust.

“Cross!”

Pinkertons forgotten, Hunter and Echo ran to the fallen man.

Crosshair was lying on his back, eyes wide, mouth gaping open as he tried to breathe, but his lungs wouldn’t accept the air. Hunter pressed gently on his abdomen until a loud gasp filled the tense silence. The gasping turned to coughing and then a groan as Crosshair reached a hand to grab his leg, blood spilling between his fingers from a gunshot wound on his thigh. It looked like one of the mob had found him after all.

“There is a doctor in town,” the dark-haired Pinkerton said and Echo whirled, not having realized that the two men had come up behind him. He guessed it wasn’t only mob-mentality that made people single-minded and unobservant. “Take one of the carts to transport your friend there. We will use the other to take care of the dead.”

“You’re not going to arrest us?” Hunter asked, eyeing the two of them guardedly.

The other man raised an eyebrow. “I see no reason to imprison those who are willing to save the lives of others at their own detriment, especially when those ‘others’ are to be considered their enemy. Now go, quickly, or your friend will bleed out before you reach town.”

And with that, he and the other Pinkerton turned to take care of the bodies littering the ground.

They didn’t have to think twice. Echo ran ahead to grab one of the carts while Hunter took off his bandana and wrapped it around Crosshair’s leg. The skinny man let out a cry of pain. Soon, they had him loaded up in the bed of the cart, Echo at the reins.

“You go ahead,” Hunter told him. “I’ll take our horses and grab Omega. We’ll meet you in town.”

With a nod, Echo urged the horse forward as fast as it would go. He knew the bumpy ride wouldn’t be doing Crosshair any favors, but in this case, speed was the most important factor.

He just hoped they’d be fast enough.

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 25

@febuwhump

Set some time after Day 12

WATERBOARDING

“We know you got the money," the first debt collector said as the second one lifted Mayday’s head out of the horse trough. “How else could you fix up this shack. Now tell us where it is!”

“I,” Mayday sputtered, raking in a breath, “I already told you. It was–”

But before he could finish, or suck in another breath, his head was dunked back into the water. He struggled fruitlessly, the two men easily holding him down. Thirty seconds. A minute. Two minutes.

When they hauled him out again, after almost three minutes, they dropped him to the ground, weak as a kitten, fighting between coughing out water and breathing as deeply as he could.

“I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses! Now tell me!”

BANG!

The shot came out of nowhere, dropping the second debt collector like a stone. The first man instantly crouched down behind the trough, pulling out his gun and looking around for the shooter. But he never saw the man standing at one of the windows in the house before another shot rang out that made sure he never saw anything again.

Crosshair slowly limped his way downstairs and across the yard to where Mayday still lay, breathing deeply, his whole body shaking. The dog beat him to the man, whining and licking his face.

“You sure took your time,” the bearded man said, fending off the worried canine.

“There isn’t exactly a clear view from the house,” Crosshair said. “And there’s not much light to see by. Would you rather I take a hasty shot and risk shooting you?”

Mayday smirked at his friend’s dark humor. “I don’t think you could miss if you tried,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone with an aim like yours.”

“Well, I’d rather not take that risk if you don’t mind.”

Using his rifle as a makeshift cane, Crosshair steadied himself before reaching down and grabbing Mayday’s hand to help haul him up.

“Let’s get you back inside before you break that leg again,” Mayday said, taking Crosshair’s arm and putting it over his shoulders before the skinny man could fall over.

“What about the bodies?” Crosshair asked.

“I’ll make an anonymous donation to the undertaker in the morning. Right now, I just want to sleep.”

“No arguments here.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday25 #Star Wars Western AU #waterboarding #whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Mayday #Crosshair #rescue #limping #pain #coughing #near-drowning #support

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 24

@febuwhump

Time to expand my character base ;)

"I'M DOING THIS BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU"

“Again.”

Each time Ezra Bridger tried and each time he failed, sometimes more spectacularly than others. He was used to sneaking around, night fighting. He should be practicing getting better at not being caught so he wouldn’t have to fight. But his guardian thought differently.

Alexsandr Kallus wasn’t a bad man, per se, not as bad as others Ezra had met, but he was not an easy man. When the war had arrived in Ezra’s small town of Lothal, he’d lost his home, his parents, and almost his life. It had been Kallus who had taken him in. It was supposed to have been temporary, but with battle after battle creating so many other orphans, there’d been no other place for Ezra to go. And so he’d stayed. For better or for worse.

Another failed bout of hand-to-hand practice and Ezra found himself on the dusty ground once again. But this time, as he’d tried to catch himself, his arm had twisted underneath him and there was a sickening crack that he felt more than heard.

With a cry, Ezra cradled his arm to his chest, tears streaming down his face.

“Let me see,” Kallus said, kneeling beside him. He raised the young teenager to a seated position and gingerly took his arm in his hands. Ezra bit back a sob of renewed pain. The man sighed. “It’s broken.”

“I know that,” Ezra snapped, twisting away from Kallus and instantly regretting it. The world spun and he was about to crash back down to the ground, but a pair of strong hands kept him upright.

“Don’t be smart,” Kallus lightly scolded, helping him to his feet. “Come on, let’s get that set.”

“Shouldn’t we go into town for the doctor?” Ezra asked, allowing himself to be led back to the house.

“I’ve taken care of many broken bones over the years, Ezra. I can take care of you. Come on.”

---

That evening, Ezra sat on the porch steps looking up at the moon, his arm in a sling. It still hurt, but not nearly as much as before.

“You know I only push you this hard because I care about you.” Ezra didn’t turn around as Kallus joined him, sitting on a bench by the door. “It’s a vicious world out there and it doesn’t show mercy to the weak. I’m only trying to prepare you.”

“Whatever,” Ezra mumbled, standing up and walking back inside without even a look at his guardian.

He knew how hard life could be. He’d had it harder than most. Ezra didn’t want to spend the rest of his having the stuffing knocked out of him again and again, no matter if it was done “because he cared” and so he’d “be prepared.” Kallus could say whatever he wanted, but the first chance Ezra got, he would run away from this place.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday24 #Star Wars Western AU #“I'm doing this because I care about you”#whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Ezra Bridger #Alexsandr Kallus #tough love #broken arm #child in peril #wounded child #training accident #fighting

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 23

@febuwhump

PRESUMED DEAD

Thrawn lay on the muddy ground, his body broken. He couldn’t move, could hardly even think. All he could do was try and breathe through the pain and try not to drown as the rain poured into his mouth.

He heard the sound of squelching footsteps drawing near and a cruel chuckle somewhere nearby.

“I should have known you’d follow me here. I had a hunch my little performance wouldn’t trick you.”

The Ripper sneered down at him. The man whom everyone had presumed dead was very much alive. Thrawn had finally found him, but the Ripper had been ready for him, setting up a trap that had sent Thrawn tumbling down the cliff. It was a miracle the fall hadn’t killed him. Now he just needed to make sure his prey didn’t finish the job.

“But I underestimated how stubborn you’d be,” the Ripper continued, his footsteps stopping until he was standing right above Thrawn. “It won’t happen again, though. Because there won’t be a next time.”

He brandished something in his hand – a wicked looking knife that he had no doubt used for all of his other victims. He raised it high above his head and just as he was bringing it down for the killing stroke, Thrawn fired.

He’d slowly moved his hand to reach the gun at his hip as the Ripper had stalked closer, each movement an agony. He’d finally grabbed hold of the grip and mustered up enough strength to pull it out and fire at the last possible moment. The shot wasn’t lethal, only catching the murderer in his right shoulder, but it was enough for him to drop his knife and double over in pain.

“Thrawn!”

No voice had ever been more welcomed than Eli Vanto’s was right then. With a growl, the Ripper clutched his shoulder and turned to run, disappearing into the stormy night. Thrawn would have been disappointed at losing the man so soon after he’d found him, but his relief that help had arrived outweighed everything else.

Finally allowing himself to relax, Thrawn’s eyes slipped closed and he let the darkness take him.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday23 #Star Wars Western AU #presumed dead #whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Thrawn #Eli Vanto #fall #broken #unconscious #rescue #pain #worry #concern

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 22

@febuwhump

Set before Day 3

"YOU WEREN'T MEANT TO BE HERE"

“Hang on, son, we’re almost clear.”

Detective Rik Virgilio raced the young man out of the burning building as fast as he could.

To say that the raid hadn’t gone as planned would be an understatement.

The thieves must have been tipped off shortly before Virgilio and his men arrived, so they had already taken most of their stolen goods and ran. The few who were left had put up a bit of a fight, but that had resulted in an oil lamp spilling across the straw-strewn floor, setting the abandoned building on fire. Only, it wasn’t as abandoned as they’d thought.

As Virgilio had been making sure his men all got to the exit, he’d heard a coughing sound from across the room. The rest of the thieves had run off in the resulting confusion the fire had brought and all of his men were accounted for. So who was this mystery person?

The detective had rushed back inside, following the coughing sounds and keeping a wary eye on the roof of the building that was looking less and less stable by the minute. He soon found a tarp draped over a stack of boxes in the back corner of the room and pulled it aside to find a young man, barely into adulthood, coughing as the smoke billowed around him.

Without a word, Virgilio hauled him up, but paused as the kid cried out in pain. It was then that the detective saw that one of his ankles was nearly twice the size and a few shades darker than it should have been. Draping one skinny arm across his shoulders to help support the kid’s inconsiderable weight, Virgilio got them both clear of the building before it could collapse entirely.

They sat on the ground some distance from the burning building, both coughing from the smoke they’d inhaled as the fire brigade arrived to put out the blaze.

“I’m sorry you got caught up in all of that, son,” Virgilio said, taking his coat and putting it over the kid’s scrawny shoulders. “You weren’t meant to be there.”

“Stop calling me ‘son’,” the kid snapped, scooching away from the older man, but wincing as the movement jarred his ankle. Virgilio had already sent one of his men to grab a doctor. “You’re not my dad.”

“Well, seeing as I don’t know your name, so I don’t know what else to call you.” The kid pressed his lips together and turned his head away from him. Virgilio sighed. He knew this kid’s type; he’d seen too many of them on the streets after the war. “Well, can you at least tell me what happened to your ankle? It looks pretty bad.”

“What’s it to you? Just leave me alone, old man.”

Virgilio smirked. “I also have a name, you know. I’ll give you mine if you give me yours.” The kid returned to his stubborn silence. “Alright. I’ll go first. My name’s Rik Virgilio.” He waited, but still the kid didn’t respond. But that didn’t deter him. He kept going.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a place to call home. If you did, you’d have brought your broken ankle there instead of hiding away in the first dry, empty building you came across. I’m also guessing you’re a might bit hungry as well. I could help fix both those problems for you. At least for a little while as you heal up.”

The kid scoffed. “And why would you do that? So you can keep an eye on me? Make sure I don’t run away before you can arrest me for trespassing and vagrancy?”

Virgilio raised his eyebrows. “Now why would I go and put my top informant in jail?” The kid turned his head at that, giving Virgilio a wary glance. Virgilio smiled. “You must have heard something while you were hiding in there, right? Maybe where they were heading to? Maybe some future scores they were planning?”

The kid continued to stare at him, judging him with eyes that were too old for a face that young.

“So what? You’ll only help me if I help you?”

Virgilio shook his head. “No. I’m not above a bit of bribery now and then, but only for those who can afford it. And, no offense, but I don’t think you could afford much right now.”

“Then why?”

“Because you need help.”

Disbelief colored the kid’s face. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Even if I don’t give you anything?”

The detective nodded his head. “But I think you will. I’ve found that people who are given something usually give something in return. It’s your choice, though.”

He left it at that, turning his gaze to watch the fire brigade put the fire out, giving the kid time to mull over his offer.

“Eli,” came the quiet voice beside him. “Eli Vanto.”

Virgilio smiled and turned to face the young man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Eli Vanto.”

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 21

@febuwhump

A continuation of Day 20

UNRESPONSIVE

“Wrecker? Wrecker, he won’t wake up!”

Wrecker cracked open his eyes to see Omega kneeling over Hunter. Hunter, who was lying sprawled in the doorway of the stall, eyes closed and sunken into his head, face ashen, jaw slack, and a rasping breath rattling in his chest. Oh no. Not him, too.

With a groan, Wrecker got to his feet. His muscles ached in protest and he swayed slightly as a wave of dizziness swept over him. But at least he was feeling better than he had in the last few days. Stumbling over to Hunter, Wrecker knelt down and placed a hand on his cousin’s forehead. And immediately recoiled in shock. He was burning up!

“Go grab the water bucket,” Wrecker instructed Omega as he hooked his arms under Hunter’s shoulders. Even in his weakened state, he was still strong enough to drag the unconscious man away from the door and to a more comfortable spot inside the stall. Hunter never stirred once, his head lolling onto his chest as Wrecker propped him up against the wall.

Omega arrived with the bucket and set it down next to where Wrecker was kneeling by Hunter. She handed him a rag and the big man dunked into the bucket, without even wringing it out, placed it on Hunter’s head, letting the cool water run over his face.

“Get me some more,” he said, and Omega gathered some more rags. Together, she and Wrecker soaked and placed them on Hunter’s head, neck, and chest.

“Will he be okay?” Omega asked in a small voice, eyes shining with worry.

“He’ll be fine,” Wrecker promised, hoping it was one he could keep. “We’re here to look after him, and Tech, Crosshair, and Echo will be feeling better soon, too. Together, we’ll all take care of him, just as he took care of us. Alright?”

Omega nodded, looking slightly more at ease, but not completely. Abruptly, her stomach rumbled loud enough for Wrecker to hear. He gave her a small smile.

“Go and fetch some more broth from the inn,” Wrecker instructed. “We’ll try to get Hunter to eat some, too, and the others will be hungry when they wake up.”

She nodded again and scampered out of the stable.

He’d have to keep her busy, Wrecker thought, his smile falling from his face as he turned back to Hunter, the man still unresponsive. Sitting around with nothing to do but worry wouldn’t do her any good. And Heavens knew there would be enough to do over the next few days.

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 20

@febuwhump

Another Alt Prompt!

LAST MAN STANDING

They hadn’t known the town they stopped at was in the middle of an outbreak of influenza. But by the time they found out, it was too late. First Wrecker had fallen ill, then Omega; one by one until Hunter was the last man standing. The town’s doctor was busy with the rest of the sick in town and hadn’t had time to help the newcomers. But they’d been put up in a stable near the edge of town, the six of them staying in one stall. At least it made Hunter’s job easier.

Each day he took a bucket and filled it with water from the rain barrel outside the stable, dampening cloths and putting them on each of his cousins’ brows to try and keep their fevers down. A nearby inn provided him with some broth he was able to feed them and luckily they’d all been able to keep it down.

Night had fallen, and Hunter stood at the door of the stall, watching contentedly as his five charges slept as peacefully as they could. It had been three days since the first of them had gotten sick. Wrecker and Omega were on the mend, while Tech was doing slightly better, and Echo and Crosshair were still reeling with the worst of it.

Hunter tried his best to ignore the way his nose had started running and the slight pain he felt when he swallowed. He couldn’t let himself fall sick, not when his family still needed him to take care of them. But he took a cloth, dipped it in the bucket of cold water, and placed it on the back of his neck. It would be stupid not to try and stay cool when he was feeling so warm. And, he thought, sitting down just inside the door, head tipping back against the wall, there was no sense standing all night when he could keep watch over them all in a more comfortable position. And if his eyes closed, then he supposed that was alright. He’d be right here if they needed him��

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 19

@febuwhump

We got a real short one this time! Mostly angst, but still a touch of whump!

"PLEASE DON'T"

“Please, Crosshair! Don’t do this!” Omega begged. “Don’t go!”

He almost wavered then, Crosshair had to admit. Those desperate eyes, full of fear and confusion, that sweet little face, crumbling further with every passing moment, almost undid him.

But then he looked around – the wreckage of their burning wagon, the light of the flames glinting off of the spent shell casings on the ground; the bodies of the men who had attacked them, whom they’d barely managed to fight off; his cousins who stood around him, each nursing various injuries.

He looked back at Omega and the memory of the gun held to her head from not ten minutes ago flashed clearly in his mind. No. He couldn’t stay. Not when so many people were after him. Not with the price on his head putting all of them, the only people he loved in this world, in danger. He couldn’t be responsible for their deaths. He couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” was all he managed to say before he limped over to his horse and, gritting his teeth, painfully got into the saddle.

He tried to block the sounds of Omega’s sobbing please as he rode away, knowing if he listened he might turn back. But he couldn’t. So he urged his horse into a gallop and told himself that it was the dust and wind bringing tears to his eyes.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday19 #Star Wars Western AU #“please don't”#whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Omega #Crosshair #emotional whump #limping #mentions of non-specific injuries #crying #attacked

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 18

@febuwhump

A continuation of Day 14

TOO WEAK TO MOVE

It had been over a day and still no one had come. Crosshair had had to put his needle skills to the test to close some of the wounds on Hunter’s side and leg, but they’d run out of thread and he’d been forced to cauterize the larger of the remaining claw marks. If not the orange smoke, then Crosshair thought Hunter’s screams would alert someone of their presence.

There was a stream nearby so at least he’d been able to wash and reuse the bandages he kept having to replace. He was trying his best, but Crosshair knew it was only a matter of time before infection set in. And if no one came, then the only thing left to do would be to bring Hunter to the nearest town. That wasn’t a prospect he was looking forward to.

Hunter was too weak to move on his own, and his wounds would reopen if he was put on a horse. The best way to transport him would be to make a litter that would hang between both horses. And to do that, he needed sturdy branches.

---

He returned from his hunt nearly a half hour later, having finally found branches thick and straight enough to do the job. But once he got within view of the cabin, he dropped them and grabbed the gun at his waist, cocking it. There was a third horse tied up outside.

The door was slightly ajar and Crosshair eased up next to it as silently as he could and peered inside.

A figure in a long coat and hat crouched by Hunter, back towards Crosshair so he couldn’t see their face.

“Back away from him,” Crosshair said, opening the door the rest of the way, gun aimed at the stranger’s back.

The figure stood up, hands out to the side non-threateningly. They slowly stepped away from Hunter and pivoted to face Crosshair.

“If you didn’t want visitors then you shouldn’t have sent up that smoke signal.”

Crosshair’s eyes widened a fraction as the identity of the person in front of him was revealed.

Fennec Shand.

“Well?” she said, looking pointedly at the gun that was still pointed at her. “Are you going to let me help you or not?”

Crosshair hesitated a few moments longer, gauging the sincerity in her face, judging if he could trust her. Or if he really even had a choice.

He released the hammer of his gun and put it back in its holster. She lowered her arms, crossing them over his chest.

“We need to get him to the nearest town,” he said. “Are you any good at making litters?”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday18 #Star Wars Western AU #too weak to move #whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Hunter #Crosshair #Fennec Shand #stitches #cauterization #worry #desperation #protective

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 17

@febuwhump

HOSTAGE SITUATION

This is your last warning: let them go.”

Thrawn stood before the bank robber, hands raised to show he had no weapons.

The man sneered at him, gun never dropping from where it pointed at the hostages.

“And just what are you going to do if I don’t?” Looks like I have all the bargaining power here. So why don’t you be a good little Pinky and get out of my way. And maybe everyone will get out of here alive.”

“I did try to warn you,” Thrawn replied calmly, and lowered his hands.

Instantly, there was a bang and the sound of shattering glass. Several of the hostages screamed. The would-be bank robber stumbled backwards, his gun dropping as red blossomed on his shirt on the right side of his chest. He crashed to his knees, eyes wide with shock, before he fell face first to the ground, unmoving.

Thrawn stepped forward and picked up the gun, checking the man’s neck for a pulse. There was none.

“Are you alright?” he asked the handful of people huddled by the counter. Some were openly sobbing, but none appeared hurt. A few nodded that yes, they were fine. Or, at least, they would be.

Another shot rang out behind Thrawn and he instantly turned, stepping sideways to put himself between whatever gunman was out there and the people he’d just saved. There was another shot. There! Up on the roof opposite of the bank. Where his backup had set up and provided the shot that had brought down the robber. As he looked, a man ran across the room and then disappeared as he jumped to the next building. No one followed.

Panic swelled within Thrawn’s chest but he shoved it down. He ran out of the bank, across the street, down the alley, and up the flight of stairs at the back of the building.

Thrawn spotted him the moment he stepped onto the roof.

Eli Vanto sat against the ledge of the roof, rifle discarded beside him, one hand pressed to his side where blood trickled between his fingers. Thrawn ran to him, shedding his jacket and wadding it up to press against Eli’s wound.

“The robber had backup,” he coughed, a bit of blood spraying past his lips. “Got the drop on me… I’m sorry.”

“No apologies. Now stay still.” There was another wound on his back. A through-and-through. That was good; at least they wouldn’t have to dig out the bullet. But it also meant he was losing that much more blood. He adjusted his jacket so he could hold it over both entry and exit wounds.

Eli raised his hand weakly. It was trembling.

“He…he ran that way.”

“I know.”

“You need to catch him.”

“There’s no time. I need to get you help. And he’s had too much of a head start, anyway. It would be a pointless chase.”

Thrawn heard a commotion down on the street and, peeking over the ledge, saw the local sheriff and deputy arriving at the bank.

“Up here!” Thrawn called down, quickly raising one hand to flag down the men. A few minutes later the deputy joined them on the roof. “There was a second robber. He escaped to the south.”

“We’ll set up a posse,” the deputy said distractedly. The young man was gazing down at Eli, whose face was growing paler, his eyelids starting to slide shut. “He needs a doctor.”

Thrawn tried not to ground his teeth at the obvious and needless statement.

“Can you bring him here?” he asked instead. “Detective Vanto is in no condition to move.”

The deputy nodded and raced off the roof.

“Hold on, Eli,” Thrawn said, returning his attention to the injured man. His eyes were closed now, his body slumping further. “Help is coming. Just hold on…”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday17 #Star Wars Western AU #hostage situation #whump #angst #me #mine #fanfic #my work #Thrawn #Eli Vanto #shot #worry #concern #blood #unconscious

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 16

@febuwhump

CAME BACK WRONG

Echo awoke with a scream of sheer terror. Sweat poured off of him in buckets and he distantly wished it would put out the flames that seemed to be eating him alive. His eyes were open but he was still seeing his dream. Or, rather, his memory.

The explosion had gone off right next to him, fire engulfing him. He’d raised his arm to shield his face and the flames clung to it, burning it more and more! Echo tried swatting at them, trying to put them out, but his hand didn’t touch anything. His arm was gone!

Echo felt himself panicking even more. What if the rest of him disappeared? What if he was devoured by the flames? What if–?

“Echo!”

The distant shout broke through his tortured mind, a lone island of peace in a hellish storm.

“Echo, you’re alright. You’re safe.”

The voice was closer now, and then a face appeared inches away from his, familiar and so full of worry. Echo stared at that face, not wanting to blink lest it disappear and leave him once again alone with the memory of the flames.

“R-Rex,” Echo panted, struggling to get his breathing under control. He felt strong hands grab his upper arms, anchoring him to the here and now, and he learned into them, relishing the comfort they gave.

“Was it the same one?” Rex asked, sitting on the bed beside him. Echo nodded, not trusting his voice yet.

Rex sighed. “That’s the fourth time this week. They’ll go away eventually. You just have to give it time.”

“They’re never going to stop,” Echo croaked. “I’m broken, Rex. I came back wrong.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I can still feel my arm,” Echo continued. “I can still feel the fire. The pain. It’s never going to stop!”

“Yes it will!” The words were shouted not in anger, but with conviction. “I’ve known other men who have lost limbs and it does get better. I promise.”

Echo shook his head, full of sorrow.

“I just want it to stop,” he said, choking back a sob.

Rex gathered him up in a tight embrace, letting Echo sob into his shoulder, his one hand desperately clawing at Rex’s back as he released all of the emotions swelling inside of him. A single drop of moisture on the top of his head told Echo that Rex was crying, too.

“I know,” the captain said. “It will, I promise you it will. We’ll get through this together, you and I. You won’t have to do this alone. I promise.”

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viva-la-whump · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 15

@febuwhump

"WHO DID THIS TO YOU?"

Wrecker was in a booze-induced sleep when he was jolted awake by a crash. He sat straight up, head pounding as he blinked in the near darkness. The door was open, and even though he’d been drunk as a skunk when he’d come in, he knew he’d locked it. He sat up a bit more and noticed that the table by the door had tipped over onto the floor, no doubt the crash he’d heard. But why had it–?

“Tech!”

Wrecker instantly sobered as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and rushed over to where his cousin lay sprawled on the floor. The candle that had been on the table was still lit, though sideways, and Wrecker picked it up to better see the unconscious man. He gasped.

Tech’s left eye was completely swollen shut, his broken glasses dangling from one ear. His lip had been split and by the way he was breathing shallowly, Wrecker would guess his ribs weren’t in the best shape, either. Setting the candle down. Wrecker scooped Tech up as carefully as he could and set him down on the bed next to Wrecker’s, but the movement still aggravated Tech’s injuries.

Tech’s face scrunched up in pain and he gritted his teeth, a strained groan escaping him. His one good eye cracked open and he looked up at Wrecker.

“What happened?” Wrecker asked, picking up the candle and lighting the lamp on the bedside table, the brighter light making his wounds more visible. “Who did this to you?”

Tech took a breath to speak, but it caught in his throat and he coughed, eliciting a cry of pain as he tried to curl into himself. Wrecker placed his hands on his shoulders and gently rolled him onto his back so he could unbutton his shirt and inspect his ribs.

“It,” Tech wheezed, grimacing, “it was your opponent from yesterday. He was angry at his loss.”

Wrecker growled deep in his throat, his face darkening as he saw the colorful bruises blossoming on his cousin’s chest.

“That coward,” Wrecker spat, reaching for Tech’s medical bag. “I’m going to kill him!”

Tech shook his head and coughed again.

“He already rode out of town. It’s not worth chasing him down.”

“Not worth it?” Wrecker bellowed, taking out the supplies he needed. “The hell it isn’t! You’ve been beaten to a pulp! Just look at yourself, Tech!”

“I am currently unable to do so,” Tech quipped, wincing as Wrecker applied some salve to his eye and lip before turning his attention to his abused ribs. “When did you learn to do this?” Tech asked, marveling at how gently the burly man was handling him.

A small smile broke through Wrecker’s scowl. “You think I haven’t been paying attention? You’ve patched me up too many times over the years for me to not have learned a thing or two.”

Wrecker noticed Tech’s hands then, and the cuts on his knuckles. Tech had never been one for brawling, even during the war when close quarter fighting had been necessary at times. It was Tech’s turn to smirk.

“You aren’t the only one who’s learned something over the years.”

Wrecker smiled. “How badly did you beat him up?”

“Not as much as he did me,” Tech admitted, “But I broke his nose and knocked out a tooth.”

Wrecker laughed, as proud of his little cousin as he’d ever been.

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