#febuwhump day 3

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this,"

Content warning: gunshot wound, rough caretaking

“Damnit, why the hell would you do that?!”

“I didn’t–I–,” Hero only stuttered in response, barely understandable. They were practically limp at Villain’s side, arm draped over Villain’s shoulder as they were dragged through the wilderness surrounding Supervillain’s forest.

Hero’s breath was coming out in panicked, choked wheezes, eyes wide and distant. Each frantic beat sent another gush of blood down their body, dripping from Hero’s side to fill the space between Hero’s and Villain’s bodies. Villain could feel the blood beginning to drip down their leg.

“I don’t need you to take a damn bullet for me! Not when we have no idea what Supervillain is capable of!” Villain hissed, voice tight.

“I don’t know why this is happening–!” Hero squeaked, a half scream. Their usual confidence was shattered, replaced with a genuine, raw fear that put Villain’s teeth on edge.

Villain didn’t know why it was happening either. Hero had taken far, far worse than a bullet without so much as bruising. A bullet should’ve been nothing to them. That fact was the only reason Villain had agreed to their teamup to defeat Supervillain. Hero was there to act like their shield, a big, dumb wall of muscle between Supervillain’s men and Villain.

So when Hero, that ever smug grin plastered onto their face, had swooped in between Villain and the barrel of Supvervillain’s gun, Villain’s only concern was the self-satisfied comments they would have to endure for allowing Hero to save their life.

They hadn’t expected shock to replace Hero’s grin. They hadn’t expected Hero to drop to the ground like a rock at their feet, eyes wide as red spread across their torso. They hadn’t expected a gleeful cackle from Supervillain, nor that the next sound to come out of Hero would be a scream.

And now they were running, dragging Hero’s half-limp body through the forest, Supervillain’s henchmen on their tails. They would die out here, hunted like simple prey animals, if something didn’t change soon.

“We’re stopping here,” Villain abruptly spoke, stopping when they found a small clearing. They moved over towards a fallen tree and, ignoring Hero’s cries of protest, rearranged their body to rest in a sitting position.

Hero’s body shook with effort as they tried to sit down. Their strength failed them halfway through, knees buckling and nearly sending them crumbling roughly to the ground. When they were finally positioned against the tree, Hero’s hands instantly moved to cover their injury.

Villain kneeled down and batted the hands away. Hero’s bloodied fingers still hovered anxiously near their torso.

It looked like a normal bullet wound, a fact that itself put Villain’s nerves on edge. Blood poured insistently from it, the red stain spreading with each second. Hero wouldn’t survive losing blood at that rate for long.

Villain leaned closer, until their eyes caught a flash of light. In the darkness of the forest, Villain could see something flashing a dull, unnatural green inside the wound. Whatever Supervillain had created to attack Hero with, it was still inside.

“I’m going to take the bullet out. Hold still.”

“W-what?! No-nononono I don’t–,” Panic instantly gripped Hero, their already paleing face nearly turning sheet white. They attempted to stumble to their feet, only to crumple back down with a choked gasp. “I’ve taken worse than this! Just–don’t touch it!”

“You have taken worse. I’ve personally thrown worse at you, and I’ve never once seen you bleed,” Villain pulled away for a moment, digging through their toolbelt to find anything they could use. “Something is wrong. Whatever bullet Supervillain made, it’s nullifying your powers. We have to remove it; you’ll either bleed out or be killed by Supervillain’s forces otherwise.”

“No!” Desperation laced the shout, so raw that Villain couldn’t help but stare at Hero in shock. Hero’s eyes were wild with terror as they squeezed their body against the tree, as if they could sink into the wood and hide away.

“I–I’ve never had to do anything like this! Nothing–,” tears were flowing unbidden now, leaving Hero to gasp pitifully. “Nothing’s ever hurt me! It’s gonna hurt, oh god it’s gonna hurt…I can’t do it!”

For a moment, Villain only stared, taken aback at hearing Hero, brave and obnoxious Hero, blubbering like a civilian.

The cruel part of their nature wanted to laugh. Here was their brave nemesis, someone who flew into danger without a second thought, who had faced countless enemies without fear, sniveling like a child at the doctor’s office. It was laughable, that Hero would be so terrified by something as simple as pain.

But the true terror, so foreign on Hero’s features, killed any humor Villain could feel at the situation.

It was very possible that Hero was right, that they’d truly never experienced something so natural as pain. When would they have, when even deadly force did nothing but inconvenience them? If a building falling on them couldn’t cause a bruise, what chance did everyday life have of harming them?

Hero had spent years, perhaps their entire lives, flying above the woes of mankind, immune to the pain they fought to protect others from. They’d simply never been hurt. And now their first taste of that so natural of hardships came in the form of a bullet lodged in their side.

For a brief moment Villain envied their usual immunity. For a much longer moment, they pitied Hero for their ignorance.

But they didn’t have time for pity.

“Please!” Hero sobbed, “Please, just leave it! It hurts, it’ll hurt–,”

“Look at me,” With rough hands, Villain grabbed Hero’s chin, silencing their pleas. They forced Hero’s tearful gaze forward. Terrified, shining eyes meeting Villain’s own determined glare.

“Yes, it will hurt. It’s going to hurt like hell, and you’re going to act like the damn hero you claim to be and take it. Do you understand me?” Villain didn’t break their stare for a moment. “I am not letting you die here. Supervillain doesn’t deserve the privilege of ending you. It is going to hurt, and you are going to endure it and save both our asses. Alright?”

For a long moment, Villain thought Hero would continue to fight them. They were still trembling, jaw shaking with muffled sobs, tears dripping onto Villain’s hand. Their whimpers were the only sound in the clearing.

But then something shifted in their eyes. It was not their usual strength or determination, it wasn’t bravery. It was something tearful and weak, but so trusting that it nearly knocked Villain off their feet.

So faintly that Villain almost mistook it for a tremor, Hero nodded. Villain nodded back.

They made quick work of preparing themselves. They turned to grab a handful of their cape, quickly tearing several strips to act as bandages. They scanned the forest floor and, after a moment of searching, found what they were looking for.

They brushed the dirt from a nearby stick, and presented it to Hero.

“Here, bite down on this. You’ll need it.”

Hero didn’t reach to grab the offered gag. Arms still pinned to their torso, Hero opened their mouth, leaning forward only slightly. Not unkindly, Villain placed the wood between their teeth. Hero bit down.

Gently, Villain moved Hero's body to the forest floor, laying them flat to expose their wound. Hero whined, low and pained, but their eyes never left Villain.

Villain returned to their toolbelt. After a moment of digging in their toolbelt, they found what they were looking for. A pair of long, thin tweezers, usually used for handling delicate wires, was held in their fingers. It would have to do.

Villain pulled themselves closer, trapping Hero’s legs with their own so they could sit over them, giving themselves full access to the injury. “Now, I need you to let me see your hands.”

Hesitantly, Hero’s hands moved instead to rest against Villain’s knees. They squeezed, grip tight.

Villain reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Hero’s face.

And then they got to work.

#hero whumpee #villain caretaker #hero x villain #supervillain whumper #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 3 #tw: gun #rough caretaking #whump #whumblr #my stuff

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 3: "Bite down on this" (Legend & Time)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury

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

The more of it that he sees, the more Legend is confident that he really, really hates blood. Sure, he’s a hero, and being exposed to the stuff is part of the job description. And he can deal with it when it's coming out of him, and he has no choice but to do something about it. But a situation like this? He would be completely happy to not experience. 

Yet, here he is. Experiencing it.

Lucky him.

“I-I can handle this, vet,” comes the gravelly voice of the hero he is currently trying not throw up on to save. Time sits shivering against the rock wall, pale as the snow surrounding them. His eye is still sharp as ever, however. Which makes it a bit difficult to send him as heated a glare as Legend wants to.

Not impossible though. Never impossible.

“No, you can’t, old man, and you know it.” 

He chances a glance at the wound, unable to keep from visibly cringing. It’s not every day you see a couple of ice arrows skewered in someone’s tricep. 

“Let me just think for a minute. I’ve gotta figure out how to get these things out.”

“Pull them,” Time says as though it’s the simplest thing in the world. This time Legend has no problem glaring at him. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, your arm is frozen,” he snaps, gesturing to the frostbitten flesh visible past the tatters of armor and tunic. “And has been for the better part of the last five minutes.” 

Time looks relatively unperturbed for someone dripping icicles of blood and likely getting more hypothermic by the minute. 

“I’ve dealt with things like this before,” he says, even as Legend practically dives into his pouch, searching for his fire rod. “I know what…what to do. It will only take me a moment.”

Fire rod acquired, Legend sets it aside and grabs for a pocket knife.   

Oh, this is gonna be so pleasant.

Time tilts his head, a knowing look in his eye. “This is making you uncomfortable.”

“Good to know it’s not bothering you.”

“Like I said, I’ve…done this before. Many times. There is n-no need for you to suffer for…for my sake.”

Bandages, fire rod, pocket knife, heart potion, a scrap of sturdy cloth torn from his outer tunic – Legend’s eyes roam over the objects he has placed beside him, checking to ensure he has everything he needs. Yup, time to dive in. 

Yipee. 

“Here.” He folds the cloth in half and hands it to Time. “You’re gonna need something to bite down on.”

“Legend…” There is something vulnerable in Time’s gaze now, vulnerable and almost pleading. “I’ll be alright. Just allow me to – ”

He cuts off, letting out a series of tiny – and frankly, adorable – sneezes. Legend hardly fights back a playful grin. So, he’s not the only one with “bunny sneezes.” Thank the Golden Three.

Oh, he’s gonna tease him about that later.

As Time finishes his sneezing fit, Legend picks up the fire rod. Mentally steeling himself, he moves closer to the affected arm.

“Look, old man, I’m sure you have done this yourself. Countless times. But that doesn’t mean you have to do that now.” 

Time is looking at him out of the corner of his eye and Legend meets his gaze. 

“You’re not alone anymore.”

For a moment, it is quiet. Then, the hero’s shoulders slump defeatedly. With a decisive nod, Legend leans forward.

“Alright, then. Take a deep breath and bite down on that thing. This is gonna hurt and I’d rather you not, you know, bite off your tongue or alert every monster in the vicinity of our location.”

Or causing an avalanche, he thinks, drily. Wild’s Hyrule is almost as bad as Rulie’s. Anything can happen here. Especially when you factor in miserable, below-zero temperatures. 

If he hadn’t found the outcropping they are sheltering under now, he is certain they would’ve frozen to death from the wind alone. 

Time sighs. But he obediently sets the cloth between his teeth. Legend ignites the rod. 

“Ready?”

Time tenses, obviously steeling himself. He nods once, determined and resigned. 

Gritting his teeth against the rising tide of nausea, Legend begins. 

It’s difficult melting away the ice without scalding Time’s skin, especially with how violently the older hero is shivering. His fingers aren’t the steadiest right now either. More than once he hears Time inhale sharply as flames meet tender, abused skin. But for the most part, he is silent, save for his stuttering breaths. 

Then, once the ice is thawed, the worst part comes.

Legend moves the rod to a one-handed grin to keep the ravenous ice at bay. In the other, he grasps his pocket knife. In two swift strokes, he slices the arrows in half. 

Now, a low groan makes its way out between Time’s tightly closed lips. Legend tries his best to ignore it. It’s nothing compared to what is coming, he’s certain.

“I’m gonna pull these out now,” he says, a frigid arrowhead already in hand. He can only pray that the rod was enough to melt any internal ice. If not, then this is going to hurt far worse than it would otherwise.

Time nods again. And Legend wastes no more time. With a deep breath, he pulls. 

The first one comes free with little resistance, wood slipping free from bloodied, frostbitten skin. Time tenses further as though struggling against the cries he undoubtedly wants to let loose. A low whine is the only thing that makes it out of him. 

The second one, however, is stubborn. It is more eager about its ice production, actively fighting the attempts of Legend’s fire rod. No doubt, the very blood in Time’s veins is crystallizing, becoming more frozen by the second. An excruciating experience to be sure. The fact that the old man hasn’t begun screaming yet is either admirable or disturbing. Right now? Legend feels a bit of both.

He brings the rod closer, slowly coaxing the arrow forward with the other hand. This time an audible cry comes from Time, shattering the eerie near-quiet of their little hideout. Legend winces.

“Sorry,” he grits out, voice sharp with worry. 

He pulls a little harder. The arrow slides a little farther. And Time’s fingers fist in the cloth of his tunic, knuckles whiter even than his frigid flesh. A tear trickles from beneath his closed eyelid and slithers down his cheek.

More ice melts away, showcasing blue-black skin beneath. Bile rises in Legend’s throat at the sight. But he drags more of the arrow out. It is nearly free now. 

“Almost there,” he promises, steeling himself for the final stretch. Time’s only response is a muffled scream when he yanks the projectile free. 

With a sigh of relief, Legend hurls the thing away, wincing at the ache in his hands. More than likely, he has frostbite now. 

Oh, joy.

But he doesn’t allow himself a moment to gaze at his swollen fingers. Setting the fire rod aside, he places a potion in Time’s trembling hand.

“Here, drink,” he orders, already reaching for the bandages. The bleeding is faster now that it’s no longer impaired by ice. He’d rather like to put a stop to it before Time loses too much.

As he weaves the strips of gauze around him, Time knocks back half of the potion. Then, he offers the bottle to Legend.

“Oh no.” Legend shoves it back at the older hero, shaking his head. “You need all of that. I don’t want to see your arm rot off.”

“And I don’t want to see the same happen to your fingers,” Time croaks. “You have helped me and I’m thankful for it. But you cannot afford to remain in this condition.” 

Legend looks from him to the bottle and back again. Then, slowly, he glances down at his hands. They are the same angry shades of blacks and purples and blues as Time’s arm. And though adrenaline had saved him from feeling the worst of it, he certainly feels them now. The ache has grown into a pulsing, tingling burn. 

He sighs. As much as he wants to argue, Time has a point. 

“Fine,” he grumbles and snatches the bottle away.

The bittersweetness of the potion is pungent and almost nauseating. But as soon as it has begun to heal him, he feels a wave of sweet relief. He hadn’t realized just how much pain he was in. And though this amount can’t soothe all of his wounds, it makes an awfully good effort.

He places the empty bottle back into his pouch, following it with the fire rod and remaining bandages. Then, he scoots over to Time, shoulder bumping against the older hero’s.

Soon, they will have to rise and walk, looking for the path that Wild had mentioned leading down the mountain. But for now, he thinks they are allowed just a little rest.

That ordeal has left him exhausted.

“Are you alright?” Time rumbles, his voice gentle. 

Legend huffs a laugh. “I’m living. You?”

Time chuckles and lets his head fall back against the wall. He is still much too pale for Legend’s liking and exhaustion drags at his features. Tear streaks gleam on his ashen skin. 

“Living,” he murmurs, “thanks to you.”

He places his uninjured arm around Legend’s shoulders and pulls him close. And for once, the veteran allows himself to lean in. After all, a little warmth is welcome in a place like this. And if he finds comfort in the at last steady rhythm of Time’s breathing, well, that’s just a bonus.

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 3 #blood tw #injury tw #linked universe #linkeduniverse fic #lu time #lu legend #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #trin writes

[comfort-questing]

"bite down on this"

"hold him still, for goodness' sake." the healer's voice was hoarse and weary beyond gentleness now, the chaos filling the hospital tent sufficient explanation for their brusqueness. they turned away, washing their bloodstained hands off with water and a rag, glaring at the ragged pair in front of them.

"I'm trying." the soldier tightened their arms around their half-conscious friend, where he had curled into himself and into their embrace, guarding the bloodied wound across his stomach. "c'mon. you have to let the healer help you, Dev. you hear me?"

their friend didn't respond, their ears filled perhaps with the sounds of agony around them, or their own cautious breathing so as not to stir the pain more.

the soldier sighed.

"I - all right."

they tucked one leg over their friend's knees, trapping him, and put one arm carefully across his chest above the bloodstains, then the other across the lower half of his face. his eyes found their face, wide with fear and pain.

"bite down on my sleeve, all right? I'm - I'm sorry. c'mon, it'll be quick."

"I don't know about that," the healer muttered, but knelt down anyway, putting a hand out to pull back the blood-soaked fabric of the coat. the scream that followed was muffled by the soldier's coatsleeve, and halfhearted struggles followed, ineffective.

"Dev... Dev... it's all right. please... stay still." there were tears in their eyes, but they didn't let go. not until their friend went limp with a sigh, merciful unconsciousness taking him at last. and then they pried their damp sleeve out from between his clenched teeth, looked at it, and carefully chose a drier patch to wipe their own eyes with.

#whump #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhump 2024 #queued up while I'm out #much less comfort than is usual on this blog

[kabie-whump]

♡ Febuwhump Day 3: "Bite Down on This" ♡

Field medicine featuring Ventis, Onthyes, and Shayah :)

@febuwhump

Content: Field medicine, poison, begging, cutting out a projectile

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Bite down on this.”

Ventis shook his head hard, clamping his mouth shut so Onthyes couldn’t slip the band of leather between his teeth. He knew what would happen after, and he didn’t want it.

“You don’t have time to be stubborn, sparky,” Shayah hissed from somewhere down by his burning abdomen. “I gotta cut it out before the poison spreads any more.”

“Give him a break,” Onthyes said. “He’s scared.”

“He’s dying.”

Ventis whimpered, a wave of dizziness hitting him hard. The wet grass under him tickled his bare wrists and the back of his neck. He definitely felt like he was dying. But he didn’t want his last moments to be filled with Shayah carving into him like a roast pig.

“Ventis,” Onthyes whispered, his face appearing haloed by the sun above. “I’m so sorry, but we have to do this. It’ll hurt less if you cooperate, I promise.”

“Please,” he choked out, his hands going to shove weakly at Shayah. “Please don’t.”

Onthyes trapped his wrists easily in one hand and held them out of the way, offering the belt again with the other. “She’ll be fast, I promise.”

Ventis gave in reluctantly, allowing Onthyes to place the leather between his teeth. It tasted like sweat and something smoky.

Everything moved quickly after that. Onthyes held Ventis’s wrists with one hand and covered his eyes with the other, placing a knee gently on his chest to keep him from moving. Shayah’s weight pinned his legs to the wet ground.

The cold touch of a knife to Ventis’s already searing wound, then white-hot agony.

Ventis screamed.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Ventisposting taglist (aka a list of people who i want to bake cookies for):

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump

#whump #whump tropes #oc #whump writing #original character #dnd ocs #whump community #whumpblr #febuwhump #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhumpday3 #whump scenario #whump ideas #whumpee #whump prompt #field medicine #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump2024 #ventisposting #ventis

[serickswrites]

Two for Flinching

Warnings: captivity, restraints, gags/muzzle, knives, forced to watch, torture

Team Leader snarled and strained against the chains that kept them bound to the chair. I’m going to rip you apart, Whumper. With my bare hands. 

Whumper laughed at Team Leader’s impotence. “You can’t get me, so why fight?” Whumper circled Smallest Teammate, running their hands through Smallest Teammate’s hair. 

Smallest Teammate squeaked as they flinched back from Whumper’s touch. But Whumper fisted their hair and kept them still. 

“LEAVE THEM ALONE!” Team Leader roared. 

“Why in the ever loving fuck would I do that? They are so pretty,” Whumper said as they caressed Smallest Teammate’s hair once more. 

“STOP IT! STOP IT!” Team Leader yelled as they watched the tears roll down Smallest Teammate’s face. 

Suddenly Whumper stalked over to Team Leader, their face inches from Team Leader’s. “Stop. Ruining. My. Fun.”

Team Leader spat in Whumper’s face. “Fuck you.”

Whumper glared down at Team Leader as they wiped the spit off their face. “You’re going to regret that.” They nodded at Accomplice. 

Accomplice quickly crossed the room and pressed a blade to Smallest Teammate’s throat. Smallest Teammate stilled, their eyes wide with terror. 

“Don’t hurt them! Please! Don’t.” Team Leader begged instantly regretting their display. Please don’t hurt them. Hurt me. Not them.

“I need you to be still. And quiet.” Whumper growled. “And stop ruining my fun.”

Team Leader nodded. “I will be quiet. And still. Just hurt me. Please. Leave them alone.” 

“Oh I am going to hurt you, Team Leader. Just not yet.” Whumper lifted a muzzle from the table of instruments nearby. “But I’m going to make sure I don’t hear your fucking voice any time soon.”

Team Leader’s heart was in their throat. They would not let Whumper muzzle them. They couldn’t. They started to struggle again, but froze as Accomplice pressed the blade once more to Smallest Teammate’s throat. 

Whumper smiled. “Very good. Maybe you aren’t so stupid after all.”

Before Team Leader could respond, Whumper was wrestling the muzzle onto their head. It was tight and prevented Team Leader from making any sound. They tried not to cry as they realized they wouldn’t even be able to offer comforting words to Smallest Teammate. 

And that this was all their fault. 

“Perfect,” Whumper cooed. “This will be fun.” And they waltzed back over to Smallest Teammate, a twinkle in their eye and a pep in their step. “Don’t worry,” Whumper said as they looked over their shoulder, “it’ll be your turn soon.”

#serickswrites #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump community #tw captivity #tw restraints #tw gags #tw muzzle #tw knives #tw forced to watch #tw torture #febuwhump 2023 #febuwhump day 2 #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhump day 4 #prompt: flinching #prompt: muzzling #prompt: knive to throat #queue

[triforce-of-mischief]

Febuwhump Day 3: "Bite down on this"

[warnings: broken bone]

characters from @thatbrokenpromise by @batrogers

****

Far was pretty sure that Four was cursing him out. It was just a garbled mess anyway, and Far couldn’t pay him much mind because he had more important things to focus on.

Like Four’s leg, mangled and stretched out before him, his femur very obviously broken. If Far remembered correctly, it was one of the most painful bones to break, if not the most painful. So it made sense that Four was all but incoherent, acting like he was concussed as well. Far had already checked, and he was almost certain that the smaller man’s leg was the source of the entirety of the pain.

If not… that could wait until Four’s leg was set and healed. Far, by some miracle, had a fairy in his bag but it would be safer and easier to set the bone before releasing her.

Easier for the fairy, that was, not Four. This was going to hurt him a lot and Far couldn’t say he was looking forward to it.

Four raised a hand, pawing at his magic pendant, and Far caught his wrist before he could do anything with it.

“No, not yet,” Far scolded. “I don’t need more of you snarking at me before you’re even healed.”

Four grumbled at him as he took the opportunity to remove the leather bracer from that arm.

“Yeah, I know,” Far said, setting Four’s arm down and holding the bracer to his mouth. “But if you’re gonna snark at me, you’re gonna need to not bite through your tongue.”

Four glared at him, sullenly accepting the makeshift gag.

“Don’t worry, this’ll be quick. I have a lot of practice, plus I’ve got a fairy.” Far gave him a humorless smile, bracing himself to set the bone. “One, two-”

Four screamed around the gag, fading to shock as Far uncorked the bottle and let the fairy finish the work. They sat in silence for a minute, panting with exertion, then Four reached for his pendant once again. He twisted it with shaking fingers, summoning not three more of himself but simply his Shadow.

Shadow blinked, barely giving Far an acknowledging glance before he gently pulled the bracer from Four’s mouth. Four shuddered and tipped over, letting Shadow hold him in a rare show of trust that wasn’t often extended to the rest of them.

“Thank you,” Shadow said, nodding to Far.

Far tilted his head back and breathed, “No problem.”

#that broken promise #tbp #tbp far #tbp four #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 3 #tw broken bone #fable writes

[popcorn-plots]

Febuwhump day 3: "Bite down on this."

Title: Holmes and Watson

Words: 687 (finally, something that's not a drabble)

Summary: Sherlo-- Stephen gets injured on a casemission. WatsWong to the rescue.

~~~

Stephen groaned as he clutched his shoulder. It was supposed to be an easy fight after tracking down a rogue sorcerer through London. Technically, Stephen wasn’t even supposed to be here – it was below his paygrade, according to Master Gremm of the London Sanctum. But Stephen had been stuck doing paperwork of all things for the past week and he wanted to get out.

Well, compared to bleeding out in a random alleyway after underestimating his assailant and paperwork, Stephen probably would have stayed at home. In his defense, however, he didn’t expect that the rogue would pull out an enchanted pistol and shoot him point blank. He was also told that the rogue was barely an Apprentice when they turned on the Order, meaning that they wouldn’t have the knowledge or the skills to enchant anything, let alone a weapon. Which meant that the rogue was working with another sorcerer.

To make matters worse, Stephen was pretty sure his ankle was broken and his shoulder (the same one the rogue had shot because fuck his life) was dislocated. He had taken a hard fall into a dumpster an hour ago and walking/running had been a bitch since. He both looked (probably), smelt, and felt like utter shit.

The rogue, watching from the side, kicked Stephen in the side for good measure, eliciting a groan from him, and vanished. Stephen felt like he should give chase, cast a spell or two, but he hadn’t slept properly in a week and his cracked ribs were still healing from the last fight. So no, he wasn’t giving chase.

Stephen laid there for a second, feeling warm blood pooling around him, cooling in between his fingers. Oh, right. It had been a clean shot, the bullet went straight through his shoulder. From the fact that he wasn’t dead yet, Stephen figured it hadn't hit anything vital. Still. Another reason he wasn’t chasing the rogue, he was hemorrhaging and possibly going into shock.

Stephen watched as his non-injured arm, soaked in blood, flailed about for a bit before falling back to his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stephen knew he had cast an SOS spell of sorts. There was a whooshing sound and Wong was kneeling beside him.

“Stephen…”

“Dislocated shoulder, broken ankle. Clean shot, there’s an exit wound.” Stephen managed to choke out. The pain wasn’t horrible, per say, but it wasn’t a walk in the park, either. “You gotta relocate the shoulder and set my ankle before you can move me.” Stephen breathed out.

Wong nodded. From his personal pocket dimension, Wong pulled out a spare belt. “Here, bite down on this.”

Stephen complied. The belt was rough and didn’t taste very good, but he knew he’d be grateful for it in a few seconds.

Wong gently removed Stephen’s blood-soaked hand and cast a simple spell to staunch the bleeding until they could get back to Kamar-Taj. Finally, Wong grabbed Stephen’s injured arm and, ignoring Stephen’s grunt of pain, pulled it up and rotated it.

Without warning, Wong shoved the joint back into its socket. Stephen’s scream was muffled by the belt he had bitten into. Thank the Vishanti for Wong’s gift of foresight.

Next was the ankle. Wong managed to set the bone without any complications, but it still hurt like a bitch.

When it was over, Stephen ripped the belt out and threw it to the side. “That hurt.” He groaned.

Wong stared at him as if saying, ‘no shit’. Stephen rolled his eyes and forced himself into a seated position. Wong, despite Stephen’s protests, picked him up bridal style and carried him through a portal into Kamar-Taj’s infirmary. Stephen probably wouldn’t be able to live that down, but he was secretly glad he didn’t have to walk.

They caught the rogue just a few days later, working with a Kamar-Taj insider. The insider was punished and the rogue locked up. Stephen couldn’t do anything (not that he would if given the choice, Hippocratic Oath and all) while he was wobbling around on crutches, but he could put his middle finger to good use.

Ao3

#febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhump #stephen strange #wong #hurt Stephen Strange #bullet wounds #bleeding out #dislocated joints

[heroictoonz]

In the Past [ @febuwhump ]

Ships: Tucker/Wash

Warnings: Panic attacks, PTSD episodes

AO3 L!nk in the Comments!

Tucker sat on the ground, one hand on his bleeding stomach, the other clutching his sword with all the energy he had left. Which, he was realizing with some horror, wasn’t much and would not last for very much longer. He didn’t even have enough to keep standing.

He felt someone close. Too close. Close enough to attack. He had his sword out and ready to swing. The person was talking to him. He was pretty sure he could hear a voice just past the loud buzzing and ringing in his head. Maybe they were taunting him. Mocking him for getting stabbed again. 

Felix would do exactly that. Maybe it was Felix. Knowing that asshole, he would absolutely come back just to pull some kinda horseshit like that. 

Tucker took a swing of his sword. His movement was clunky and off center. He felt the blood running through the fingers on his side. 

The swing must have pissed off his assailant as the person grabbed his wrist to stop him. Tucker tried to pull back, swinging the weapon with the little movement he could. 

His attacker wouldn’t have it. They twisted his wrist painfully, causing Tucker to drop his only source of protection. 

Tucker could feel his body shaking. Maybe it was from the blood loss. Or the panic. He really couldn’t be sure. He knew he was yelling, but he couldn’t focus enough to know what exactly he was saying. Not that he could understand what the other was saying, either. 

His attacker forced his arm to the ground. Bringing Tucker down with it. 

The blue tried to use his other hand to fight against it. Punching and clawing at the hand and trying to aim for the face, he could hardly see. His vision was blurred and shaky. It looked dark and with stripes of warmth. It really is Felix. 

This thought only caused Tucker to fight harder. Now kicking and screaming. He wouldn’t let this bastard take him out like this. They had to save Chorus. All those kids. All those innocent kids. They needed him to win. They needed Tucker’s plan to work. 

The man that Tucker believed to be Felix grabbed his free arm and slammed it to the ground with the first. He fought both wrists into one hand. 

Tucker didn’t remember Felix being this strong. It scared him. Felix having a free hand was terrifying. There was no telling what he could do. What he would do. 

He felt Felix sit on his legs, clearly trying to get Tucker to stop kicking. 

This only made him more frantic. Pushing and shoving his body around to do anything to get away. Get Felix to let him go. He pulled and tugged and slammed and kicked and screamed. 

Felix’s free hand moved to his helmet. He pulled on the latches, getting the piece of armor undone, before tugging it off his head. He’s gonna slit my fucking throat.

If Tucker could just get out of his grasp. He couldn’t stop fighting. Despite that, he felt dizzy and sick. He felt like his body was two seconds from giving out on him. He just had to get away. He had to get back to the others. He had to make sure the recording was out. Where was Church? Why wasn’t Church in his head telling him stupid probabilities and screaming through the coms for help? 

Why weren’t any of his coms going off in response to him screaming bloody murder? 

When Felix got the helmet off, Tucker didn’t even have time to think before the hand was on his face, trying to hold it still. He could feel the pricking of grass under the skin of his neck. 

Tucker’s eyes and ears still weren’t focused but Felix’s yelling was closer now. Was Felix’s helmet off too? Why would he have taken off his helmet? Was his hair blond? Felix doesn’t have blonde hair.

Tucker tried to focus his vision. He blinked away the tears that were blurring everything. When had he started crying?

It was definitely blonde hair and blue eyes looking back at him. Neither of which Felix had. But he knew a strong man with a dark suit and stripes that did. He just had to remember who that was. 

Unfortunately, all he could think about was Felix. He had to think about someone else. He had to figure out who this person was. He didn’t think the blonde would hurt him. Whoever it was he was trying to think about wasn’t someone that normally caused him panic. 

Now that he thought about it, despite the rough treatment, the man was almost gentle with him. His hands were firm, but they didn’t seem to hurt him more. They were only holding him. 

Not to mention he was sure Felix would have just tried to break his legs instead of sit on them. 

This was definitely not Felix. 

It wasn’t Felix. He had established that. Now he just had to figure out who was holding on to him. 

The person was still talking to him. He was shouting at him. What was he saying? He tried to listen. It sounded like his name. The ringing in his ears calmed, as did the buzzing in his head. It was definitely his name being shouted out at him. 

And the voice was familiar. It was safe. 

Tucker wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he knew the voice was someone safe. He let his body calm down. He still struggled here and there. His body was still stiff. He looked at the blonde. His eyes came back to focus. 

“Tucker! Tucker, please. You need to breathe. It’s Wash.” 

“Wash?” he choked out. Wash was blonde. And he had blue eyes. And Tucker was pretty sure he had a safe voice. Wash. It was Wash. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s me.” The hand on Tucker’s face instantly became much more gentle. Wash’s thumb running against his skin. “I need you to focus on me for a second.” 

“Wash,” Tucker sobbed out. “It’s Felix. He—he stabbed me. I—I don’t know where Church is. The video. We have to—I don’t know if the video got out.” 

Wash’s eyes sparked with an understanding before he shook his head. “Tucker, breathe. Felix is dead. Remember?” His hands loosened on Tucker’s wrists but didn’t fully let go just yet. “Chorus is safe. We won their battle years ago. Felix isn’t here. Your plan worked and Chorus is safe.” 

Tucker felt lost. Wash wouldn’t lie to him. Not about this. And it was Wash holding him. Wash was trying to keep him safe. Wash was always trying to keep him safe. 

“What is your name?” 

Tucker blinked at him. “What?”

“Your name. Tell me your name.” 

“L-Lavernious Tucker.” 

“What’s my name?”

“D—” Tucker stopped. “Washington. Agent Washington.” 

Wash nodded. “Can you tell me where you are?” 

Tucker looked around them. It wasn’t Chorus. That’s what Wash had said. Chorus was safe. “I don’t—I don’t—”

“It’s okay,” Wash stopped him. He rubbed his thumb against Tucker’s cheek again. Despite the rough texture of his suit, it was still comforting. “You’re on Earth.” 

“Earth?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I need you to really help me here, Tucker. You’re injured, and we gotta get you back on your feet.” 

“I—I got stabbed, Wash,” Tucker choked out. “It was F—” he stopped. It wasn’t Felix. Felix was dead. They were on Earth. 

“Charon sent people after us. Remember?” 

He did. He was starting to, at least. There was a small group of mercenaries that were sent after them for whatever twisted idea of revenge the businessman had in mind for them. Apparently, it involved trying to kill them. 

“That fucker with the white armor.”

Wash nodded. “Yeah, he was one of them. Here, I need to get to your wound.” 

Tucker looked around them as Wash moved to take off his armor. They were in a wooded area. He forced himself to focus on how the hell they’d gotten there. It was the guys that were after them, that was for sure. He vaguely remembered running and hiding. Using the trees both for protection and an upper hand. But he couldn’t wrap his head around much anything else at the moment. Especially not any specifics. 

Wash only took off the front plate, clearly ready to smash it back on the moment he was done. Tucker looked down at the wound and instantly felt dizzy. 

The knife had gotten between the panels in his armor and through his kevlar. He was bleeding. A lot. 

“I need to give this emergency stitches before any of them find us. Then we can get you out of here.” 

“You what?” hissed the blue. “Hell no, man. I am not letting you stab me more.” 

“Don’t think of it like that,” Wash sighed. “If you freak yourself back into a panic, we’re just gonna have a bigger issue on our hands.” He pulled out a small pocket kit and tore into the kevlar to get a better reach of the injury. 

Tucker watched him prep a needle and thread and definitely felt sick. He didn’t even know Wash knew how to do any of this. He really didn’t expect to get field stitches ever, though. 

The blonde looked back at him. “This is going to suck,” he said, grabbing the durag off Tucker’s head and shoving it into his face. “Bite down on this.” 

Tucker blinked before hissing out, “Dude, I am not fucking putting that in my mouth! It’s been on my sweaty ass head all day!” 

“It’s this or you scream and give away our location more than we already have.”

He frowned, looking at Wash with a challenge in his eyes. Finally, he sighed and snatched the cloth from his hands. “I’m sure you’d like to hear me screaming, bow-chicka-bow-wow,” he grumbled before shoving it in his mouth. 

He was thankful he did as he felt the needle plunge into his skin almost immediately after. His jaw clenched so hard he was almost afraid he would break a tooth. He let out a loud groan and let his head slam back into the earth behind him. 

Wash tried to go as fast and painless as possible. But there was only so much he could do in their situation. With each stitch, Tucker slammed his fist into the ground. His eyes shut tight from the pain. 

Finally, after what felt like a hellish eternity, Wash snapped the string and started shoving the equipment back in its containment. He lockedTucker’s armor back in place and helping to pull the rag from his mouth. 

Once Tucker was put back together, Wash got to his feet. “Can you stand?” 

“Great fuckin’ question,” Tucker sighed out. He felt exhausted. As if he’d just run a 5k in a desert with no water. He grasped Wash’s hand so the other could help pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit, but Wash kept him up. 

“We need to get out of here. We’re pushing out luck the longer we stay where they can come back for us.” 

His mind becoming more clear by the second. “‘Kay.” Tucker leaned against Wash. He reveled in the other’s presence, thankful that it really wasn’t Felix, or anyone else, that had found him in such a state. But instead someone who understood and knew how to help him. “Lead the way, hero.” 

#red vs blue #rvb #lavernius tucker #agent washington #tuckington #writing #fan fic #fan fiction #toonz writing #in the past (fic) #febuwhump #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhump 2024

[theonlymoongirl]

Impermanence

The Boys Febuwhump 2024 Day Three: "Bite down on this."

“I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s gonna be bad; but I sure as hell ain’t gonna let you die. And this ain’t gonna last forever. This pain? It’ll end. I promise.” M.M. gave no warning. He didn’t tell Hughie to brace himself or that they’d be starting now. He only pressed his hand down into his chest and held the blue flame to his skin. Sage Grove had been nothing.

read on ao3

hurt/comfort, angst, burns, blowtorches, torture (sort of)

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 3 #febuwhump day three #the boys fic #hughie campbell fic #the boys #burns cw #cw burns #moonwrites

[theshiaxartist]

Wouldn't surprise me if Dark Jak liked to bite. Erol certainly wouldn't be beyond muzzling him.

#Jak #Dark Jak #JnD #Febuwhump2023 #Febuwhump day 3 #Muzzle

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hunter & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo & Hunter & Omega & Tech & Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Characters: Clone Trooper Hunter (Star Wars), Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair, Clone Trooper Wrecker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Tech (Star Wars) (minor), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo (minor) Additional Tags: Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Everyone Needs A Hug, Grief/Mourning, Post-Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Season/Series 01, Canon Compliant, Whump, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, totally comfort here :), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Unhappy Ending, let’s pretend things actually will get better lol, Protective Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech Does Not Get Paid Enough (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), POV Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Trooper Hunter-centric (Star Wars), Omega Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, They all need therapy, Febuwhump, Febuwhump 2024, Prompt: "Bite Down On This", Hurt Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Emotionally Intelligent Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Somewhat, sometimes I honestly can’t tell if he’s actually stupid, or if he just pretends to be because it makes people underestimate him, throwing a bunch of idiots who can’t talk, together with entirely different lives might not always go over well, I wonder why that might be, somebody just adopt these kids please, Omega needs an actual parent, and the boys need someone who won’t treat Omega as superior just because she’s different, she doesn’t matter more than they do, sorry for the tag rant lol

Summary:

In which Hunter encounters his new-found fear of heights, and Omega finally admits she's still terrified of losing them.

Read on:

https://www.wattpad.com/1419083644-the-bad-batch-one-shot-collection-febuwhump-day

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14323539/1/Febuwhump-Day-Three-Bite-Down-On-This

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump day three #day three #day 3 #febuwhump day 3 #hunter #omega #hunter and omega #the bad batch #hunter and wrecker #hunter and tech #hurt/comfort #angst #family #fanfiction #bad batch #bite down on this

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Febuwhump 3: Loss of Life and Limb

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone Summary: Nina thought that she wanted to be a healer, she really did. Turns out that actual injuries from war are far more gruesome than any textbook ever explained. Warnings: WWII AU, mentions of war, graphic descriptions of injuries, implied character death, minor character death, and inhumane medical conditions Word Count: 1,504 Ship(s): Nina Zenik/Matthias Helvar

Archive link!

She flinched back into herself as she heard another massive shell go off a few meters away from the tent. She hated that the Germans had once again managed to surpass them in terms of technology, that England and America weren’t keeping up their end of the bargain to provide them with ways to protect themselves. She hated the fact that she had gone to school to be a nurse and had ended up dumped into an active warzone where she was performing life-saving surgeries in the middle of a mud pit with people screaming outside the canvas. Most of all, she hated that she couldn’t save them all.

Her thoughts barely had a time to settle in her head so they mostly focused on repeating themselves over and over again. She rushed through the tent so that she could get more of the bandages and the dull garrot that they had been using to cut off the circulation of soldiers that had massive wounds. The items refused to stay still in her quivering hands but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She rushed back to the bed where she had been working. She put the items down on the cot behind her, though that wouldn't last for very long. Some of the other nurses that didn’t have a patients would be coming to clear the body away when they had the time. She had to focus on the boy that was laying in front of her, blood dripping down the edge of the cot.

“What’s your name, love?” she asked as she readied her supplies. She didn’t have time to wash her hands with soap, not when she could hear another round of ammunition dropping on the battlefield outside. She settled for lathering them with a thick, heavy alcohol that would hopefully kill all the germs on her hands.

“Jesper,” he grunted. He tried to push himself up on shaking forearms, his eyes already darting towards the open flap of the tent. 

That was her least favorite part of this. At least when she was working in the hospitals that were far too packed with civilians and war casualties she had the ability to lock the doors to stop her patients from wandering away. The first week that she had been out on the field, she had managed to actually lose her patient. “Oh, no you don’t!” she snapped as she pushed him back onto the bed. “You have a nasty wound on your leg, I’m not going to let you wander into the war just because you know people on that field. We all do.”

“My friends are out there!” he squawked, indignant and heady with the adrenaline from his wound.

“I know,” she snapped as she pressed him down into the bed with one hand. Her eyes flicked up as she saw another cot being carried into the medical tent. It was something that happened often when they were engaged in battle. People got injured, they had to come somewhere when they had lost too much blood to fight. They came to her and the other nurses so that they could try and stabilize them before they were sent off to whatever poor village hospital had to try and fit all of them in.

She felt her heart stop in her chest when she saw who it was. She would have been able to recognize the head full of blond hair cut to short military length, the shoulders so broad and muscular that they could hold even her girth, and the face so grizzled with loss that it was a travesty not to dwell upon it anywhere. She knew immediately who she was looking at even though she wished that she did not. “Matthias!” she shouted before she realized that it was the wrong thing to do.

“Matthias is in here?” Jesper asked, trying to push himself off the bed again.

His near-escape was enough to break herself from her thoughts. She turned back to him and pressed him onto the cot with one of her hands. She let herself be divided between the other side of the tent where her husband was being tended to and the patient in front of her. 

She knew a lot of the soldiers that were serving with the Allies, but none of them were as sacred to her as the man that they had just brought in. She had traveled all over the world while she tried to figure out what she was going to do, experiencing the life, language, and culture of all others. She had adored it even more when she was sharing the experiences with someone of that country, which was where Matthias had come in. The two of them had met when they were assigned to work together with a married couple during a tour of the countryside. He had apparently only gone on it in the hopes of seeing his old family farm, but had ended up with someone he was nothing like. They had argued and bickered for the first half before they eventually determined that was stupid. After that, they had fallen head over heels for each other. They had only married when they learned that he was going to be drafted, before Nina had even decided to become a nurse so that she could be closer to him and help with the war effort.

He was being tended to by some of the other doctors, people that she knew that she could trust even with her husband. She had to focus on the boy in front of her instead of thinking with the aching, gaping black hole that had opened in her stomach. Nina couldn’t think about losing her husband in the mess that she had fallen into. She had to try and save at least one of the Godforsaken children that had been sent to the frontlines.

“Bite down on this,” she instructed as she placed a clean rag into the mouth of the soldier. They were hard to come by in the mud-slick fields that the tent had been set up in but they tried to make sure that their soldiers weren’t also suffering from a stomach ailment along with whatever injury they had picked up while fighting.

“What?” Jesper grumbled around the rag that she had placed into his mouth.

Nina paid him no mind as she wrapped the garrot around his leg as tightly as it would go and then placed both of the wooden handles into one hand. She grabbed the bottle of alcohol that she had used to sterilize her hands and then dumped it down onto his wound so that she could clean out some of the grime. Just as she had suspected that he would, he let out a shrill scream into the cloth in his mouth and seized forward.

“I know, I know,” she immediately soothed. “You’re going to be okay.”

They were words that she had spoken a million times before and likely would have to speak a million times over. None of them ever felt like they would come to fruition, it didn’t feel like any of them were going to be okay. Their entire lives, the futures that were promised to them, had been ripped away by people that didn’t even know them. They would never have what they were assured they would get.

She reached for some of the things that she had brought over. She placed the bandages down between his legs and then settled her hands on either side of the break. She forced the bones back to where they were supposed to be, which caused Jesper to release another earth-shattering scream into his rag. She was so glad that she had learned to use the gag so that her patients weren’t biting down on their tongues when she had to set bones or sew skin.

She tilted her head up just in time to see the medic that had been working on Matthias pause. He switched out with another person, who began to plunge their fingers deep down into his chest so that they could find the bullet. While he was doing that, the first one that had been working on him sprang around to the other side so that he could pump the blond’s chest.

She couldn’t let herself think about what that meant, not when she was meant to be saving the life of someone else. She grabbed the ball of surgical sutures and then worked to get the wound closed now that his leg was back where it was meant to be. She paid no attention to the tears dripping down her face at the background idea that she could be losing her husband. This war had already cost her her parents, her mentor, and numerous other people that she had cherished. She wasn’t sure what she would do if it ripped out her heart and left her with nothing but the bleakness of an unknown future.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #soc #six of crows #shadow and bone #sab #nina zenik #matthias helvar #jesper fahey #matthias x nina #nina x matthias #helnik #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 3 #implied character death #graphic depictions of injuries #injuries #blood #gore #blood and gore #minor character death

[iztarshi]

Febuwhump - Muzzled

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Donnie hasn’t spoken in days now. He huddles in the corner, naked shell to the wall, naked face buried in his knees.

Leo sits between Donnie and the door, hands jittering in his lap, eyes flicking to the rhythm of shoes in the corridor, the rumble of trolleys. Counting seconds, counting steps. When the endless white corridors are silent he sometimes talks, fast and soft, like you’re under the blankets together and Dad thinks you’re asleep. Mostly he retells comic book stories and movies you’ve already seen, but he’s silent now and you miss his voice.

Raph isn’t here. It’s his turn for tests.

You close your eyes as you try to reach inside yourself and you wind the tiny piece of wire you managed to snag around your finger over and over again. Maybe it’s not enough to transform into a weapon, but it should be. It’s your soul, your power, your ninpo, your family. The wire is just a symbol.

“If they figured out how to block us by copying the Krang,” you whisper. “Why can’t we do this? We did it then.”

Leo hasn’t even pulled out the needle he stole. “Maybe it’s easier to have hope when the monsters hurting you aren’t people you could pass on the street.”

There are footsteps in the corridor. Light tapping ones and huge, stumbling ones. Deep, rumbling growls. You haven’t memorised the routine the way Leo has, but you know that Raph shouldn’t be back yet. You slip the wire inside the front of your plastron, feeling it scratch against your collarbone, and you stay still. Look non-threatening. Leo is breathing fast, one hand flat on the floor, trying to be ready to move without looking like he is.

The door opens.

There’s blood all down Raph’s plastron, dripping red from his mouth, and you think they’ve finally finished the preliminary tests and moved on to the circular saw, that he’s cut open top to bottom under that river of red. They herd him in with tasers, his claws swiping at as them they do. You see ragged sleeves and spots of blood on white lab coats, you see the way Raph’s eyes are blank, you see the muzzle. Still you don’t understand until you throw yourself against Raph’s plastron, hand swiping through blood, and find no injury. You slide your fingers inside the muzzle, feeling around just to be sure that nothing is cut open.

Leo’s breathing goes from ragged to measured and when you turn you find Donnie with his hand in Leo’s, squeezing it gently to time Leo’s breathing.

“He’s not hurt,” you say to both of them. You feel a savage joy at the realisation it’s someone else’s blood.

“Monsters,” Raph says, head moving back and forth like he’s trying to focus on you. “Bit monsters.”

One of the scientists in the doorway jabs the taser towards him and you shove it aside. You are pressed up against Raph’s plastron, you are covered in someone else’s blood as much as he is, and you are angry. In a moment you will be writhing on the floor with the taser jabbed into your arm and you wish you could kill this man instead.

At the edge of your mind you feel your brothers.

Donnie’s anger is a seething thing, like a boiling pot with the lid stuck on too tight. Helpless fury building and building with no way out. Nothing he can build with, nothing he can use as a weapon, only anger and anger and anger.

Leo’s is ragged, worn away by misery and fear. A lost cry against the unfairness of the world.

Raph’s is savage, predatory. He wants to protect YOU he wants to protect HIMSELF he wants to DESTROY the monsters. Raph’s hits you like a match to oil.

You are angry. How dare they do this? How dare they do this to your BROTHERS?

The room fills with fire. It burns, but you burn hotter still. The man holding the taser throws his head back, screaming, skin blackening. His companion turns to run but the fire races over him, cracks his skin, renders down his fat, leaves a charred skeleton in a pile of ashes.

The fire dries the blood on your skin and shell, turns it to dust. It melts the steel of the muzzle, orange liquid as bright as your ninpo dripping down over the untouched green scales of Raph’s snout. Behind you Leo and Donnie stand up, hand in hand, markings glowing as bright as the flames. Ahead of you the fire races through laboratories, burns in spite of sprinklers, in spite of foam, in spite of carbon-dioxide, in spite of vacuum itself.

“Follow me,” you say and you lead your brothers out.

#rottmnt #febuwhump #febuwhump day 3 #gore tw #death tw #experimentation tw

[arecaceae175]

Febuwhump Day 3: Muzzled (Hyrule & Twilight)

AO3 link. Warnings: violence, ambiguous ending

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Hyrule yelled, surging forward. The chains around his wrists caught, yanking his arms behind his back. 

Twilight pushed himself up from the ground, arms shaking and face drawn tight with anger. Before he could stand fully upright, a guard yanked his hair back. Twilight hissed in pain and tried to bring his hands up, but a second guard stepped on his chains and his hands were forced down.

“Hey!” Hyrule yelled again. 

“This is what you get for running your mouth,” the guard sneered. He towered over Twilight, glaring down at him with disdain. Twilight glared back. 

Then, Twilight spit in his face. 

“Argh!” The guard reeled back, wiping his face on his sleeve. Hyrule bit his cheek, torn between laughter and fear for Twilight. 

The guard punched Twilight in the stomach. Twilight doubled over in pain, but before he could even groan the guard hit him in the face. 

“Stop!” Hyrule yelled. 

Twilight collapsed on the ground. He coughed weakly, took a deep breath, then pushed himself up. 

“Hey! Listen to me!” Hyrule yelled. He yanked hard against his chains. One slipped out of a guard’s grasp and Hyrule surged forward. Another guard caught him easily and threw him to the ground. 

“Ugh, will someone shut that one up?” The first guard asked. “He’s interrupting my zen.”

“On it, boss.”

Hyrule was yanked back by his hair. He cried out and reached for the hand in his hair, and he heard Twilight growling behind him. One guard pulled his arms behind his back while another pried his mouth open with a hand on his chin. Hyrule grunted and thrashed, but the guards easily held him in place. 

They forced a sash into his mouth and tied it around his throat. It was covered in grime, and the taste and smell overwhelmed Hyrule’s senses. He tried to spit it out, tried to push it out with his tongue, but it was no use. The guards pulled the knot tightly around his head and the sash dug into the sides of his mouth. Hyrule tried to call out to Twilight, but his voice was incoherently mumbled by the sash. 

“There. Better. See,” the guard said, bending down to Hyrule’s eye level, “that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” 

Hyrule surged forwards and headbutted the guard in the nose. There was a satisfying crack, then warm blood spurted onto Hyrule’s face and the guard screamed. 

“Ah! Fuck!” His voice was muffled and nasally, Hyrule realized in satisfaction. “Okay, that’s it. I’m sick of that one. He isn’t worth the aggravation.”

“Hey-” Twilight began, trying to rise up from the ground. The guard kicked him in the shoulder, his boot sliding from Twilight’s shoulder down onto his throat. 

“You stay down. I’m not done with you,” the guard said. Twilight gasped for breath under the guard’s foot. The guard sneered and laughed, then picked up his foot.

The guard knelt down next to Twilight. “Take the other one back to the cell, he’s too annoying. This one’ll do just fine,” the guard said, patting Twilight’s cheek forcefully. 

Hyrule yelled again as he was dragged away by the guards. He got one last glimpse of Twilight’s limp form being hauled off the ground before he was pulled around the corner.

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhump #febuwhump day 3 #fic #muzzled #tw: #ambiguous ending #violence #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu fic #lu twilight #lu hyrule #ace writes

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump day 3 ALT 5: Timeloop

Caretaker doesn’t clearly remember the first time they saw Whumpee die.

It’s not that it happened a long time ago, technically it hasn’t happened at all yet, but rather that the memory was little more than a mess of emotions and flashes of images that Caretaker doesn’t have the ability nor interest in deciphering.

They remembered that it’d be an accident, remembered everyone insisting there was nobody to blame, that Caretaker had done their absolute best. But more than anything, they remember Whumpee’s expression, wide eyed and growing rapidly distant, as they bled out on the floor. Caretaker could never forget that.

And then they remember waking up in bed again, their partner Whumpee snoring next to them as if they hadn’t just been declared dead a few hours ago.

Caretaker made no effort to stop the tears that sprung to their eyes at the sight. They held Whumpee close, pressing their ear to their chest just to hear the heartbeat. Whumpee had woken up then, confused but more than willing to comfort Caretaker after what seemed to be a horrible nightmare. Caretaker let themselves be comforted. They put what they’d seen out of their mind, but if Caretaker was a bit more doting than usual, then nobody would blame them.

Caretaker remembers the second time they saw Whumpee die very well. They remember how it was them who’d insisted on going into town that day, and it was Whumpee who insisted on driving. They remember the benign conversation about films they’d had with Whumpee as they drove down the road. They remember the harsh, clipped words Whumpee let out in the split second they had to react before the truck barreling the wrong way down the road slammed into them.  They remember regretting never having learned enough of Whumpee’s native tongue to understand what their last words meant.

And then they woke up again. With Whumpee snoring next to them. Again.

Caretaker doesn’t remember how many times they’ve seen Whumpee die, but they do know it’s inescapable. If they leave home, there’s a car or falling debris or something waiting to snatch their love away. If they stay where they are, there’s some freak accident at home waiting to do the same thing. And if they beg Whumpee, beg their loving and damnably stubborn love to simply waste the day in bed, they’ll eventually find an excuse to leave.

One day, or perhaps more accurately, one iteration of the same day, Caretaker finally asked what Whumpee’s final words on that second loop meant. Whumpee simply gave them a confused look, sleepily rubbing at their eye, and answered. “Look out, or something like that. Why’re you asking?”

They’d been trying to warn Caretaker. Whumpee had wasted their last seconds trying to warn Caretaker of the oncoming danger, as if Whumpee wasn’t the one experiencing a new horrible death every morning. If Caretaker didn’t already know that their love would die again, only to wake up with no memory of it, they might have felt embarrassed at bursting into tears in response to their love’s answer.

Caretaker remembers the first time they betrayed Whumpee. They knew they were doing it for their own good. They knew that they were willing to do anything to keep Whumpee alive. But sneaking those sleeping pills into Whumpee’s breakfast felt like crossing a line they could never come back from.

Caretaker had only looked away for a moment. In all the loops they’d endured, Whumpee had never had a reason to drive into the city by themselves. Apparently whatever damned curse that had captured them could make a reason. They didn’t need to answer the repeated calls from the hospital to know their love was gone.

Caretaker had tried the pills again in the next loop, hoping a stronger dose would simply knock Whumpee out before they could be tempted into danger. They don’t remember the moment they realized Whumpee wasn’t lying asleep on their bed, but they do remember not to ignore the dose remediation again.

Caretaker knows they will never forget the first time their beloved looked at them with terror in their eyes. They could never forget how Whumpee was jolted from their sleep by a chloroform soaked cloth being pressed into their face, disorienting them just long enough for Caretaker to bind their arms and legs together with zip ties. Caretaker will never forget that they were the reason Whumpee begged and cried, confused and horrified as they struggled against being carried into the basement.

Caretaker knew that it’d be worth it in the end. If it meant they could both see tomorrow, anything would be worth it. But they knew that Whumpee would never forget what they’d done to get to tomorrow.

#anyway this is for everyone who was obsessed with Kagerou Days in elementary/middleschool #i just LOVE a good betraying someone to save them plotline what can i say #whumpee #caretaker #betrayal #cruel to be kind #tw: overdose #drugging #timeloop #Caretaker turned whumper #Febuwhump #febuwhump day 3 #My stuff

[thatninjacat27]

DAY 3: MUZZLED

I thought I was never writing any else involving the Bad Ending Future.

Could be read alone but if you read the Bad Ending Future Au Details then you’ll understand much better.

Nine was in his cell lying on his bed. The Chaos Council had captured him a few months ago and he had been forced to work for them. The fox had built all sorts of machinery to help conquer other dimensions and had to collaborate with the scientists.

Today, he said something about the terrible design they made for a new idea of a robot and instead of getting his usual electric shock, they put a muzzle on him. Clearly, the council had begun think in the long term and chose a much less life threatening way of controlling him. 

They sent him back to his room or rather his nice cell, after work hours, still wearing the muzzle. From his cell door, Nine heard strange noises. The fox got up to look through the bars.

“Nine, I’m here to break you out bro!”, The blue hedgehog yelled as he blocked the door with nearby items and debris from the previous fights that had occurred in the area that the Chaos Council hadn’t bother to clean up yet. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Been a bit busy in the other dimensions.“, Sonic said as he typed out every possible combination he knew. “And I managed to get the Rebellion to help me get you out.” Finally, the keypad gave the green light and the cell doors unlocked.

Nine walked out. “Alright so here’s the— What are you wearing on your face?”, Sonic asked as he finally took a good look at his brother’s doppelgänger. Nine stared at him because that was a very dumb question and he obviously couldn’t speak. He hoped that the look he gave him was enough to convey his feelings on the subjects.

“Can’t talk huh?”, Sonic said as he got the message from the look. “Here, let me get this off you.” Sonic went behind Nine and messed with the adjustments of the muzzle. “Should have figured that you couldn’t talk. You didn’t give me any audio responses so…”, the blue hedgehog trailed off.

He then managed to get of the muzzle and threw it across the room. It landed with a thud. ”I can’t believe that they muzzled you.”, Sonic said incredulously.

“Well the Council didn’t like how I criticized their plans and robot designs. And they thought it’d be better for my health than electrocution every time I ran my mouth.”, Nine stated neatly as he looked down to mess with his gloves.

When he looked back up, Sonic looked angry. The blue hedgehog grabbed the fox’s shoulder and said, ”I’m not going to let this happen again, Nine. I swear it.”

Nine slowly pushed the hands aside. “Sure, because you’ve been so good at keeping your promises as of late.”, Nine sarcastically replied. “You’ll only abandon me when it’s convenient.”

“No, Nine, I would never do that willingly.”, Sonic tried to tell Nine. “I’m always here for you and what’s best.” 

“Then why couldn’t we have stayed at The Grim when we could have then?”, Nine cut off whatever Sonic could say next. “Hmm? That’s what was best for us. Why deal with all this bullshit that doesn’t even matter?”

“Nine, it does matter. These people, our friends, they do matter.”, the blue hedgehog tried to explain in a gentle voice and tone. It just made Nine feel more pissed of then he was. 

“Matter? Don’t talk to me about what matters because clearly I don’t!”, Nine yelled at the blue hedgehog. The fox pushed him back. “You left me behind after what happened in New Yoke City.”

Sonic’s ears drooped. He could hear the anger and frustration coming from the young fox.

“And you can try and justify that I do matter because this “rescue mission”, but don’t forget that I would have never been in this situation had you stayed with me instead of insisting on trying so hard to fix what’s already too broken.”, then Nine crossed his arms and turned away from the blue hedgehog.

“Nine I—“, Sonic got interrupted by sirens going off. The security alarms rang and the robots began to bang on the outside doors. The barricade would not hold out for much longer.

“Dang it.”, Sonic cursed. “We need to go,” A robot arm punch through the walls. “Now!”

“Come on, Nine! We’ll continue this later.”, the blue hedgehog said as he extended his hand towards the fox. 

Nine reluctantly took Sonic’s hand. He was going to make that later happen much sooner if the gun concealed under his shirt had anything to do about it. And Sonic was going to say yes to staying with him this time.

#nine the fox #sonic and tails #sonic and nine #Bad Ending Future Au #my trash writing #I could have done so much better with more time #sonic prime #sonic the hedgehog #febuwhump #febuwhump 2023 #febuwhump day 3