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corazondebeskar-reads · 9 months ago

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remember what you're staring at is me

jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 8 - found footage | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 2.9k

summary: A videotape is left on your porch one morning, and it changes everything about your budding relationship with Joel Miller.

warnings: Jackson!Joel, some dark!Joel, some soft!Joel, we love a man who contains multitudes, ambiguous ending, I wish I had made this a much longer one shot but oh well, references to The Hospital Incident, oral (f & m receiving), implicit p in v

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You find it on your porch one morning in an old paper bag. Someone’s written right onto the brown wrapping with black crayon—”you need to know the truth.” It seems rather dramatic once you peel back the paper to find a videotape.

It's not high quality—the footage is fuzzy and crudely edited together. But there’s just no mistaking the man on the screen.

Joel and Ellie came into your life when they arrived for the second time in Jackson. You had heard the gossip the first time, but never met the pair.

You met him fairly quickly when he swung by with a torn jacket, gruff and blunt but polite. Steady. “They, uh, said to ask you about some mending?”

“Sure thing,” you say easily, smiling at the very handsome stranger. “Let me take a look.”

It was a casual thing, the sewing, and you liked it that way. You didn’t make anything, didn’t haul things to the market. You spun the wool for those who did craft things, and then you kept to your little projects at night.

The push and pull of the needle was the meditation you needed to keep going every day, even now, even safe here in this bubble. Something productive, something to keep your trembling hands busy and your mind blank.

And in return, you got company and conversation. Most folks knew your services could be bought with a warm drink or baked good, a promise of a favor you’d never call for.

“How long?” he asks, voice flat and serious, but it didn’t prick at you, didn’t land as rough as it set out.

“Not long,” you muse, looking over the tear—a knife gash of some sort, and the thin lining that peeked out. “Ten minutes if you just want it sewn up, or if you give me a day, I can get it properly stuffed.”

“Sewn, please.”

Please. You like that. Manners at the end of the world.

“You sure? Be a lot warmer if I fill it out.”

“I don’t—” he scowls at the ground. “I barely have anythin’ to offer ya for the mending.”

You want to tell him it’s on the house, call it a welcome basket, but he’s holding out what he does have to offer and your jaw drops just a little, lips parting to make way for a soft, pleased “oh” that has him straightening up.

“I can find somethin’ else,” he says.

“Oh, no. That’s… amazing,” you say, taking the jar into your hands and popping the lid. They certainly aren’t potent, not like you remember, but oh, you could die from just the faint smell of the cinnamon sticks. “This is… more than enough. I’ll owe you, I reckon.”

“I dunno about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Seriously,” you say, eyes wide. You set the jar on the counter. “For that, I’ll get the whole thing done tonight.” After all, the delay had only been so you could go to bed.

“Y’ain’t got to do that, I don’t mean to be a bother.”

You brush him off and start gathering your supplies. If you steep the thread in tea for a bit, you think, you might be able to get close to the color of the fabric.

He turns down a cup when you offer but does take a seat at the table. He’s as stiff as your late husband’s favorite bourbon, but the blunt edges grow a little duller when you don’t try to keep up small talk.

The bright overhead light casts him in shadow, deepening the circles under his eyes and drooping his wrinkles in inky black. But his eyes are bright and curious as he watches you start to add unspun wool from your stockpile into the jacket, trying to shape and layer it evenly through the inside. You have to make a couple incisions but keep them tight to the hemlines and existing stitching.

The thread dries quickly with the hearth raging and he speaks for the first time as you weave it through the needle’s eye.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a threader,” you say, offering it to him to see after you’ve pulled it loose. “I, um. I’m not as dexterous as I used to be and I can’t say my sight’s as keen, either. Makes it easier to use these damn tiny needles. Luckily, it wasn’t a very in-demand item when people were raiding shops.”

“Huh,” is all he says, sliding it back across the table to you.

The stitching is quick and rote. You’re used to people pouring out their life stories and desires and drama when they sit at your table or on your sofa, feet kicked up on your coffee table while you sew.

But this silence with Joel is warm, too. You’re almost regretful the job didn’t take longer.

You stand up and he follows, pushing his chair neatly back into its place. He takes the coat and runs a gentle finger across the original wound.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly.

You give him a wan smile, never having found those words to settle right in your skin. “Nice meeting you, Joel,” you say instead. “You know where to find me if you need anything else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and lets himself out.

You lock the door behind him and wonder why you feel so energized. That tea was decaf, after all. And a little fuzzy, if you were totally honest, but you weren’t going to dump it down the drain just over a few fibers.

One day when he comes, it’s with a bundle of thick socks and another, smaller jacket. Not a difficult job, but the gift he brings to trade knocks you off kilter so hard that you have to sit down.

“Not sure if it’ll be any use to you, but figured you’d know someone who can use it if you don’t,” he says, looking at the floor.

You’ve gotten to know him a little better, though his visits are few and far between. But he’s gotten more comfortable around town, more interested in following that wild daughter of his than hiding away.

Sometimes, he’ll even sit at your table in the mess. You’d even go as far to say that the two of you were friends.

So you can tell what he’s trying so hard not to project. He’s nervous.

It looks almost like a desk lamp with its sturdy base and bent wooden arm, but in place of a shade and bulb is a hoop. You recognize it immediately and your stomach swoops. It’s an embroidery stand and you might faint just from that, just from having a steady way to hold the fabric tight as you sew.

But that isn’t all. He shows you how to turn the peg that loosens the grip of the handle on the side, a raw hewn thing that doesn’t match the worn stain of the stand. You’re burning, head spinning, and the fuzzy darkness at the edges of the world stop you from focusing on the gift.

The carved handle, he says, with hands curling around either side of you, has been partially hollowed to accommodate the end of the magnifying glass. You can raise and lower it with the peg and rotate the handle to use the other side of the glass.

“Joel,” you say uncertainly. He doesn’t really seem like he’ll want the attention drawn to it, but you have to know. “Did you make that?”

“Nah,” he scoffs. “Just added the glass is all.”

“Just added the glass,” you echo in a whisper. But you know he doesn’t mean he only attached it. He made the entire attachment and fit it onto the stand.

His ears are red and he won’t look at you.

You set a cautious hand on his arm where it reaches across your shoulder, still resting on the table. He’s caging you in from where he leaned over to demonstrate. “Joel, this is incredible. This is… this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Ain’t a big deal,” he mumbles but he doesn’t shake off your hand. “Just saw it and thought it might be useful.”

You feel emboldened by his kindness, so you curl your hand around his bicep. “Can I thank you?”

He looks down at you now, seeking something that he must find, confirmation in your blown out pupils and parted lips, and nods.

He doesn’t break away as you slip from the chair to sink onto your knees or when your fingers loop around his belt to pry it open.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” you say, voice tight.

He shakes his head. “You’re not.” His voice is the rumble of thunder breaking a tense summer night.

You don’t bother removing his belt, simply knocking it open to reach for his zipper.

You’re about to tug his pants down when the door opens.

“Hey sugar,” Tommy drawls, “all my fuckin boxers have holes. Can you help a guy out? Promise they’re cle—“

His loud mouth gave just enough warning for Joel to pull his shirt down over his belt and for you to fumble at rolling the cuff of one pant leg up just so, reaching for a pin.

“Oh hey, Joel!” Tommy says happily. “Finally fixin’ those ratty old things?”

It’s a fucking miracle that he’s in these jeans, his favorites. Actually, it’s not, he wears them all the time, and they’re just a little too long so the bottoms are torn up.

“Guess so,” Joel scowls. He’ll have to finally let you hem them now.

“Just leave ‘em on the table, Tommy,” you say around the needle between your teeth. “And tell Maria to stop bein’ so rough with them.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “She can’t help it, sugar. I’m irresistible, see?” He claps his brother on the back and takes his leave.

You slump a little, sighing as you set the needle on the table before moving to resume your activity.

But Joel steps back. “I should get goin’,” he says. The line between his brow is cavernous and his lips are tugged down at the corners.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, and pull yourself up with a hand clutching the table.

“So. Thanks again,” he says. And then he’s gone.

You let yourself drop dramatically into a chair, groan growing as it turns physical when your tailbone hits the seat wrong.

You’re rubbing your forehead and thinking about going to bed to give yourself a pity orgasm when the door opens. He’s quiet and cautious, but he pushes the door shut behind him and locks it.

“M’sorry,” he says. “I…”

“It’s okay,” you say with a tired smile. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” he says, offering you a hand.

You take it and let him pull you to standing.

His other hand finds your waist. “I was bein’ a coward.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

“Darlin’, you couldn’t,” he says. His arm slides further around, pulling you to him in a gentle embrace. He looks down at you through heavy lids, watching the way your lips part just a little. “You still want this?”

You bring a hand up to cup at the hair that curls down the nape of his neck. “Please,” you whisper.

He matches your motion, cradling your head in his palm as he dips his head to kiss you. He wastes no time, licking into your welcoming mouth, seeking out the earthiness of the tea still lingering on your tongue and the sweet shiver of goosebumps prickling across his skin as you wind your fingers into his hair.

“Shit,” he mumbles when you break away for air. “What do you want, baby? What can I have? You gotta tell me now, before I can’t think straight.”

“You can have whatever you want, Joel,” you say, hot breath brushing his swollen lips before he presses them to you again with a growl.

It’s a much quicker kiss, and he breaks away to drop to his knees and push your skirt up to your hips. You have to lean back with both hands clenching the edge of the table not to fall over in shock.

He nuzzles against the soft cotton of your panties and groans at the smell of your wet cunt. He mouths at it gently over the fabric before hooking his finger around the gusset and pulling it aside to part your lips with his tongue.

“Not fair,” you gasp as he feasts. “I was supposed to—supposed to do that for you.”

“You said whatever I want, darlin’,” he says against your pussy, chasing the taste of you.

“Fuck,” you pant. “Fuck.”

“Gimmie one and I’ll let you suck my cock if ya want it so bad,” he says, plunging two thick fingers in and basking in the way you squeal and squirm. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, pistoning in and out like he’s trying to win a race.

It works, with his tongue on your clit and his fingers against that soft, secret part of you that no one has touched before, you gush around where he spreads you. “That’s it,” he croons, “good girl. Good fuckin’ girl, give me another.”

“You said—”

He cuts you off by sucking on your clit and your hips rock, wobbling the table as he takes another from you anyway.

“Couch or bed?” he says, tugging your panties down your legs now that he’s sated the immediate urge.

“Don’t care,” you say.

“Alright, bed,” he says. “Wanna do this right.”

“Don’t think you could do it wrong,” you say, a lazy, sated smile on your face and a lightness to your eyes that he thinks he could get addicted to.

He does let you suck his cock, and thinks maybe he could die happy from the warm, wet of your mouth and the way you look up at him like he’s the only thing in the world.

At that moment, he is. You had resigned yourself to keeping your little crush a secret until it faded, too fond of him to risk it, but here? Now? Now that you’ve had him, you don’t think you can ever go back.

He’s gentle in a way you can’t quite name. It’s not that he’s soft with you, but just aware. Like he knows where you’re capable of meeting him and settles there. He makes room for himself in you like you’d done for his coat, opening you up and stuffing you until you’re warm and full and renewed.

He doesn’t leave you to stitch yourself up, either. He buries his face in your tits and holds you tight after, cleans the both of you up with a warm towel, and kisses you before he leaves.

Neither of you want him to go, but he’s got Ellie at home and won’t—can’t—worry her by not coming home. Not without warning. Next time, he whispers, and it carries a question and a promise.

There is a next time. And another. And another. You think you might be in trouble. You do far less mending jobs once your evenings are taken over by Joel. You still take them, darning socks on the soft with your feet in his lap, or basking in the way he looks proud and satisfied when you use the stand to fix up bigger projects. Some of your favorite nights are when he sits and strums his guitar while you sew, just two people finding peace by creating it themselves. Together.

So when eight months later, that tape finds its way into the VCR you’ve only used twice, you’re more than familiar with the bulking shape of him. The way his hair sticks up when he runs worried hands through it. The grip of those hands, sure and steady.

He finds you there on your third viewing. You didn’t even hear him come up the porch, didn’t realize the sun was starting to crest over the mountains, that he’d be coming by with breakfast just like he promised.

The little Joel on screen is working his way to the operating room. You’ve stopped flinching at each crack of the gun or collapsing body.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

You do startle when he speaks, unaware that he’d been watching you watch the tape for a minute. His voice is low and slow, something lurking beneath the baritone that trips an alarm.

This isn’t your Joel. This is that one, the one from the TV.

He moves like a jaguar, slinking and graceful. “Where,” he snarls, breath curling off your clammy skin, “did you get this?” His hand curls around your shoulder at the base of your neck.

“It was on my porch,” you whisper.

His fingers dig in a little where he holds you in place. “Try again.”

“It’s the truth, I swear. I didn’t know what it was.”

“How much did you watch?”

“All of it,” you whisper, though it feels like the click of a lock.

“Goddamnit, baby. Why’d you have to do that?”

There’s an actual click, the unmistakable flick of a release.

“Joel, please,” you say, voice breaking. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“I can’t take that chance,” he says.

He still hasn’t brought the knife close to you, though, so you hazard a glance over your shoulder. You wish you hadn’t. He’s gone, his sweet eyes dead to the world, no whisper of his gentleness to be found.

“I swear, please. You can trust me.”

“Can’t trust anyone in this world, darlin’. You shoulda realized that by now.”

*title from "Through Glass" by Stone Sour

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #jackson!joel #dark!joel #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dead dove fic #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday8

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cutthroatcarnival · 9 months ago

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Febuwhump Day 8: “Why Won’t It Stop?”

Tags/Warnings: None (?)

Warriors gets cursed to feel all the pain his fallen comrades faced. Sky and Twilight try to comfort him while attempting to hold themselves together.

Read it on AO3!

Captain’s Bane

Twilight nursed his jaw- it was likely bruised, the captain packed quite a punch- as he shared a helpless look with Sky, the Skyloftian equally as lost, torn between staying with him or aiding the rancher.

Warriors had collapsed after the battle. He hadn’t been hurt, not physically, but when Hyrule had checked him, he reported the presence of dark magic on him. They had gathered around the fallen captain in a panic before Time had called on them, entrusting Warriors to Sky and Twilight, as they followed the direction the enemy fled.

He had been expecting something like a sleeping curse, or one that would render him unconscious for a while, but not this. Sky had remained at the captain’s side, luckily managing to avoid the swings, and Twilight? Not so much.

Scooting closer to Warriors, more towards his head, Twilight sighed, feeling utterly useless as his brother writhed on the ground, clutching and scratching at his neck. His voice had gone hoarse from all the screaming, now expressing everything through anguished whines that thoroughly broke their hearts- never had they heard Warriors, the level-headed and steadfast captain, this vulnerable.

Warriors had gone still again, and on the dot, Sky swooped in, pressing his fingers against his wrist, sighing and hanging his head in poorly concealed relief- just another lull in whatever was happening. Twilight pet the war hero’s hair, pushing back the sweat-slicked strands carefully, purposefully ignoring the way his hands shook.

Curses weren’t fun, he understood that at the very least. His definitely hadn’t been at the start, but it had gotten better as Twilight lived with it, growing with it, learning with it, and wholeheartedly trusting the wolf that resided as part of his very being. These were on two separate ends of curses- Warriors laid on the malicious side, the one he was afflicted with purposefully casted to cause suffering. Twilight’s was a byproduct of his original transformation under Twili influence, a rather necessary curse to save two realms from crumbling.

A hoarse scream wrenched him out of his thoughts, his attention snapping to Warriors, whose eyes had opened. Twilight could tell he wasn’t completely there, his eyes were hazy. He nearly bumped heads with Sky as they leaned over the captain. Pain-riddled eyes met their’s, tears slowly sliding down.

“Why won’t it stop? I didn’t mean for them to die.” His voice was raw, both from screaming and unconscious emotion, every word spoken with such immense sorrow.

He could hear Sky heave a shuddering breath, clearing his throat to fight against the urge to cry, and he himself wasn’t faring any better, staring at Warriors- whose eyes had drooped shut- feeling his heart shatter into pieces. The lull had ceased, as the captain began writhing and twisting again, legs flailing as if trying to kick someone away- or run away- arms wrapped around his ribs, curling slightly with a whine.

The others needed to find that curser soon, and find them quick. Sweet Ordona, he didn’t know how much Warriors could handle. Sky was close to breaking, the other hero mumbling under his breath what sounded like counting, staying vigilant by the captain’s head. And Twilight could only stare. This wasn’t something that could be fixed with words and hugs- not until much later, that is- and he felt helpless. His chest ached at every small noise the captain made.

He joined the skyward knight at Warriors’ head, pressing their shoulders together. Ordona, hear his pleas, and let their presences be enough for their brother.

#linked universe #lu #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu sky #warriors linked universe #twilight linked universe #sky linked universe #linked universe warriors #linked universe twilight #linked universe sky #mars writes #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024

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kybercrystals94 · 9 months ago

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They All Fall Down

Read there on AO3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 8 | Prompt 8: “Why won’t it stop?”

Rated: G | Words: 1572 | Summary: Stuck in their barracks on Kamino, the cadet Batch try to survive the slow, painful death of boredom. [Character Focus: Cadet Batch]

ADVISEMENT: All training simulations have been canceled for the day, and training rooms are closed. All cadets are ordered to stay in their designated living quarters until further notice. Any and all disturbances during this mandated down time will be dealt with swiftly and with the utmost severity.

Tech reads through the message for the dozenth time, searching for any loophole that he and his brothers might be able to wiggle through to get out of their barracks. They are only scheduled to be cadets for one more standard week. It seemed unfair that they would be held to the same limitations as cadets freshly released from their tubes.

However, the mandate still stands, and Tech’s messages for further clarification have been ignored. It seems they are trapped.

“Hunter,” Wrecker whines, drawing out the last syllable in Hunter’s name to a ridiculous length. “Crosshair won’t stop staring at me.”

Having managed to develop a migraine within the first hour of their imprisonment, Hunter says something from under the pillow he’s sequestered himself to, but his words are suffocated into senseless mumbling.

Crosshair sighs lazily from where he is laying sideways on his bunk, head dropped over the side so that he is looking out at the room upside down. “Stop being such a tubie, Wrecker.”

“I don’t like you staring at me.”

“I’m not staring at you. I’m staring straight ahead.”

“Yeah! Which is at me!”

“If you are sitting in my line of sight, then yes, I’m staring at you. If it bothers you, move.”

“You move! I was sitting here first!”

“No.”

“If you won’t move yourself, I’ll help you,” Wrecker decides, standing up threateningly.

Crosshair smiles. “You just try. Let’s see what happens.”

“May I remind you that disturbances during this time will probably result in lockup,” says Tech.

“Lockup would be better than being stuck in here with him,” Wrecker says, jabbing a finger in Crosshair’s direction.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you.”

“That’s it!” Wrecker yells.

“Hey!” Hunter barks, sitting up and throwing his pillow at Wrecker. His squinting against the light of the room effectively makes him look angrier. “Knock it off, or I’ll turn you both in myself to get some peace and quiet.”

Crosshair huffs and rolls his eyes while Wrecker has the decency to look properly chastised.

Wrecker picks up the weaponized pillow. “Want this back?” he asks Hunter meekly.

Hunter glares at him for several long moments. “No,” he growls before falling back on his bunk and pulling the covers over his head.

A laden hush follows the outburst for approximately five standard minutes.

“You’re still staring at me.”

Tech jumps up and courageously puts himself between his feuding brothers. “We should do a quiet, group activity.”

“Like what?” Crosshair asks dubiously, rolling over and pushing himself up.

“We could play sabaac!” Wrecker suggests excitedly.

Tech casts a weary glance at Hunter’s bunk. “I don’t believe that game would qualify as quiet,” he says.

“What then?” Crosshair stands up and stretches his limbs.

Tech goes and gets the deck of cards. “I’ve been researching some other card games that are more appropriate to quiet environments. Allow me to teach you.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“Tech, do you have any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Wrecker groans and picks up a card from the draw pile. He looks at the card and grins wildly. “Ha! This is the card I wanted. Take that, Tech!” He puts down the set of twos in front of him triumphantly.

“While we are playing individually, I am not actively seeking your demise, Wrecker. If I’d had a two, you would have received it with no argument,” Tech mutters.

Crosshair chuckles. “That’s not how I’ve been playing.”

Tech throws the nearly graduated sniper a look. “Yes, I know that you’ve been actively cheating. Despite the simplicity of the game.”

“It’s not cheating, it’s house rules,” Crosshair says.

“They can only be house rules if the whole house agrees, which Wrecker and I have not.”

“Yeah, Cross! Play right or we’ll kick you out of the game,” Wrecker scolds far too loudly, then claps a hand over his mouth.

The three cadets look apprehensively over at Hunter’s bunk and breathe a sigh of relief when the lump that is their sleeping brother doesn’t move.

Crosshair hisses, “Fine. I’ll play by the dumb rules.”

“Thank you, and your opinion is noted.”

They play three more rounds of the game before they become bored. Wrecker suggests some house rules to change up the game; however, his idea is immediately shot down when Tech and Crosshair realize he is basically describing sabaac.

“If you didn’t get so loud whenever we played, maybe Tech wouldn’t have banned it,” Crosshair says irritably.

“I did not ban it, I just recommend we not play it…” Cutting a glance to Hunter’s bunk, Tech lowers his voice to add, “under the circumstances.”

Wrecker fusses with the cards. “How much longer will we be stuck in our barracks?”

“I’m estimating until late meal,” says Tech.

“That’s not for hours!”

“Shh!”

Hunter shifts and sighs, but seems to remain asleep.

“Maker, Wrecker, why do you have to be so loud all the time?” Crosshair mutters.

Wrecker frowns. “I’m being as quiet as I can.”

“I believe that is accurate,” Tech agrees. “He has been several decibels quieter than his average levels.”

“See?” Wrecker crows.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “We’re so proud of you.”

“What should we do now?” Wrecker asks. He takes two of the cards and leans them against each other, making a triangular structure.

Tech watches with interest, then smiles. “I have an idea.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter wakes to the soft chirp of a notification on his data pad. He blinks his eyes open, surprised by the quiet in the barracks. It is never this quiet unless his brothers are gone. Maybe he had slept through the mandatory lockdown, and they had gone to late meal without him. He wouldn’t put it past them, especially after threatening to send them to lockup. Not his finest moment of leadership.

He sits up, rolling his shoulders back to alleviate the stiffness. His migraine is mostly gone, just a lingering ache behind his left eye. He can live with that. Turning to swing his legs over the side of the bunk, Hunter freezes when he sees it: a tower of cards.

And he’s not alone after all.

Crosshair is sitting on Wrecker’s shoulders, reaching up with a card in each hand, poised to place them at the very top of the card palace that nearly reaches the ceiling. It is intricate in its design, with levels and pillars. Hunter is impressed.

“Just a little to the left, Wrecker,” Crosshair says, almost under his breath.

“Carefully,” Tech adds from where he stands across the table from them.

Wrecker shuffles to the left.

“There, good,” Crosshair whispers.

Hunter finds himself holding his breath as Crosshair reaches out and places the cards with the delicate care of an artist.

Hunter grins, reaching for his data pad and taking a holopic. This will be evidence the next time his brothers claim they can’t figure out how to play nice long enough to get anything done.

“That’s it, we did it,” Tech says, “We’ve used every card in our possession to make this structure.”

“We should take a holopic of it,” Wrecker says, almost softly.

“I did,” Hunter says.

He honestly didn’t mean to startle them. He thought that the trained soldiers had seen him sitting up, known they were being observed – even if they hadn’t acknowledged him. He supposes, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have made any such assumptions.

Wrecker nearly jumps out of his skin, which sends Crosshair, still perched on the giant’s shoulders, flailing to keep his balance. Tech whirls around to face Hunter, eyes wide. And all the sudden, combined, swift movements are the house of cards’ demise.

They all watch in devastated anguish as the cards tumble and flutter in soundless destruction. The silence continues long after the last card lands.

Hunter has never felt so small in his entire life.

Tech recovers first. “We knew it was a short-lived endeavor when we undertook the challenge,” he says bravely, but the assurance is thin.

“Would’ve been nice if it lasted longer than two seconds after we finished it though,” Crosshair grumbles, finally slipping down from Wrecker’s shoulders to loom over the carnage.

“I am so sorry,” Hunter says, standing up. “I really didn’t mean to scare you.”

Three sets of eyes look at him, conflicting emotions dancing across their faces.

“We weren’t scared!” Wrecker protests.

Tech averts his gaze. “Correct. We just thought we had inadvertently woken you. We were…surprised.”

Crosshair folds his arms over his chest. “I knew you were awake.”

“Right,” Hunter says, shifting uncomfortably. He holds up the data pad. “I really did get a holopic though.” He looks down at the screen, a notification symbol in the corner. He clicks on it. “And hey, the mandate has been lifted! We can leave the barracks now!”

“Yes, it was lifted two hours ago,” Tech says dismissively, kneeling to begin picking up the scattered remains of what might as well have been their hopes and dreams.

Hunter puts his data pad aside and begins to help gather the cards. “Maybe we can build another one?”

His brothers sigh in unison.

“It will simply not be the same,” Tech verbalizes.

END

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A/N: If you squint, you can see where I sprinkled the whump in this story XD If you need specifics, I'll just say this: migraine & devastation over lost card tower.

#febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday8 #prompt 8: why won’t it stop?#star wars #the bad batch #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #cadet batch #dash of Whump #fluff #humor #bratty siblings

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occasionallyprosie · 9 months ago

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A Thousand Ways

Chapter 8: "An Ancient Ancestor"

Legend, once again, against all odds… actually wakes up. This is really becoming a pattern, but like he told Four's dad, he's certain the goddesses aren't done with him and he's not dying until they are. The little cabin is new though.

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Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 15: "Who did this to you?"

Read On AO3 Warnings: Cursing

This one is rather long, and equal fluff and whump so...

Practically the last thing Legend expected was to wake up. Even more of the last thing he expected was to wake up warm.

Not burning, warm. The soft weight of woolen blankets, the distant crackling of a fire, real warmth; not the burning of a fever.

He was distantly aware of moments of being not quite lucid, but anything that happened other than being awake was not in his memory.

He blinked, face scrunching up as he tried to figure out his surroundings. A wooden house, plaster on the walls to keep heat or cold out as the seasons changed, a brick hearth in the center of the room with a vent above it to release the smoke up and out. His blurred but clearing vision let him see someone moving around nearby, but no more than that.

He didn't recognize the house, though he didn't really expect to. He wanted to fall back asleep, but the realization and understanding that no, he wasn't safe, he was in an unknown, didn't let him relax.

Instead, despite the continued exhaustion his body was in, he forced himself up. Clumsily, not quick enough to catch it, the blanket slipped from the futon he'd been on and hit the ground. It wasn't loud, in fact, he didn't even hear it. But somehow the shape across the room did notice and turned from the table.

"You’re up!" A feminine voice. They approached and he made out chestnut brown hair and a working-class dress. He didn't have a weapon nor the magic to defend himself, but as she knelt beside him and placed her hand over his head before he could react, he didn't feel threatened. She smiled at him, a soft and sad thing, "You certainly feel and look much better. Here, I made some soup."

She darted away and came back far too quickly for his addled mind to keep up with.

After drinking the soup--probably bone broth, he noted--he had enough awareness and general strength to notice more things.

"Thanks," he muttered. "Where..."

She smiled. "He did say it had been a few years since he last saw you, I'm not surprised you don’t know the place. You’re in Hyrule, first of all, in a temporary farmhouse not far from Kakariko Village and Castle Town."

He nodded. So probably just about the same area as his grandparents' farm in his era.

"I'm Marley. I'll be right back, I'm just going to go get my husband and let him handle this. He knows about this better than I do after all."

Legend nodded slightly as she got up and exited the front door, a bit of cold air rushed through the room the brief time the door was open and he shivered, tugging the blanket tighter.

He sighed softly, closing his eyes and assessing himself. His magic was fine, for the most part, low but with actual food and rest for maybe a day or two, it would be back in full. He didn't drain himself. His body however was pretty exhausted, he had a feeling he was far smaller than before and he had no point of reference due to him definitely not being in his clothes again. A large full green shirt that probably would've fit Time or Warriors, somewhere between their sizes, was hanging off his frame overtop his white dress that Dusk had made for and given to him.

His ear flicked as he heard voices approach and footsteps pad against soft ground. Unpaved then. The door swung open with a creak and Legend felt the air get stolen from his lungs when he saw who it was.

"Link, I'm glad you're--"

"Raven!"

His ancestor smiled, and just as he remembered, it was a warm and bright thing, filled with fondness.

"Glad to see you remember me," he laughed. He left his overcoat on the hook by the door and his boots by the bench, then he walked over to Legend.

"Remember--Of course I remember you, you idiot!" Legend smacked his arm. He was a bit speechless. He hadn't expected to ever see the man in front of him again.

Raven chuckled softly. "I wasn't sure, kids tend to forget things as they get older." He ruffled Legend's already messy hair and Legend squawked, smacking his attack away.

"I wasn't that young and I'm not that old either. You’re the old man at this point. Is that gray hairs I see?"

"I had those the last time you saw me, you gave them to me." Raven poked his side.

Legend flinched away from the poke and glared. "I did not."

Raven didn't push further, just laughed softly. "How old are you now then?"

Legend huffed. "It's been five years, I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen?" Raven looked a bit ill. "Link, you look fourteen."

"I was twelve when I left," he said pointedly.

"And you looked ten then," his ancestor countered. His eyes trailed along his skin and frame, it took Legend a moment to realize he had been looking at the numerous scars he had on display. "Kid, you look as worn as a year old training dummy. Oh golden three, Link... What happened to you? Who did this to you?"

You know, Legend wasn't sure what he expected, but he wasn't surprised by this. Raven had been very protective, had he any control of the circumstances of this reunion, he wouldn't have shown Raven a single one or his new scars if he could.

"Three more adventures," Legend told him, tugging the blanket to try and hide what he could. "I killed Ganon again, got struck by lightning," drowned, "and kept fighting."

"Why couldn't you just stop?"

His whole life, Sir Raven had been a hero, his hero. Legend realized at this moment that no matter how heroic his ancestor was, no matter what he had done, no matter how much of a hero Raven was, he wasn't a hero...

"I'm a hero," Legend said. He gave up on hiding his scars and even pushed his bangs back a bit with his left hand, flashing his Triforce and the feathers of his lightning burns that were hidden beneath his right bangs. "There is no stopping, not for me. It's my goddess-given duty to protect their lands, be it Hyrule or Labrynna or Holodrum."

Raven looked rather stricken. He looked a bit like Time, actually... a lot like Time. If Time had a son, Legend imagined Raven would be what that son would grow up to look like.

"Alright," he whispered. "I understand... How has Puini been?"

Legend let the heaviness of the previous topic slide away and he smiled. "She's had a foal. Epona is the fastest, strongest mare in Hyrule. So Puini's been enjoying her retirement."

Last he heard, at least. Puini was old, she hadn't been young when Raven gave her to him. Last Legend had been at the farm, he knew that unless he returned within a year, which he hadn't, Puini wouldn't still be there. He didn't say as much.

"Glad to hear she settled down too," Raven chuckled. "And that boy--Ralph?"

"Haven't really seen him since I last saw you," Legend admitted. "But we've exchanged letters every year or so, so he's doing well."

"I see... How are you feeling right now? Up for a tour of the farm? Marley and I managed to buy back our family's old farm, but it needs a lot of fixing."

"Your wife?" Legend grinned.

"She is. I love her so much." Raven had a lovesick smile and Legend felt a little sick when he realized it looked exactly like Time's smile when he talked about Malon.

Legend squeezed his arm, Raven came back to the current.

"I'm happy for you," he said softly.

"Thank you, I hope you like her too."

"If she's so wonderful that you fell in love with her, then I think I will." He grinned a bit. "I can also draw you a blueprint for the farm if you like, and the location of nearby natural wells."

Raven barked out a laugh. "Ah, the benefits of having your descendant around. Come on, kid."

Legend yelped as he was scooped off of the bed. "Hey! I can walk--"

"Marls would kill me if I made you walk with how bad condition you were in, I'd kill myself honestly. So hold on."

He huffed and managed to get Raven to let him onto his back instead of being carried in his arms.

As it turned out, not even walking, just staying mentally, emotionally, and socially present was exhausting. Raven showed him the makeshift pen for his new horse, then the area Raven remembered from his childhood was the cow field, Legend confirmed that in his time that was the field they kept their cows in, then the area he wanted to build the farmhouse.

Legend frowned, starting to feel a bit tired, but a mental map was drawn up and he shook his head.

"That's where the well is. Gramma says we built on some rock deposit 'cause the foundation is as strong as our hearts or sum'thin'."

Raven looked over his shoulder at him, smiling softly. "Where's the house then?"

Legend hummed, thinking carefully. "About forty...? Yeah, 'bout forty or so feet back behind the well. S'makes it easy t' fetch water n'matter the weather or where we're takin' it... an' it's kinda the middle a' the farm."

"That makes sense, and we wouldn't need to worry about foundation issues. I'll look for a rock deposit out back there, then we'll build or expand on it."

Legend hummed agreeably. He dropped his head against Raven's shoulder.

"I think I might be tired," he admitted, using Raven's shoulder to block the light from his eyes.

Raven laughed, the rumble vibrating Legend to some degree. "I was thinking the same thing. Let's get some food in you before you fall asleep."

"Ugh, I hate it when I can't find a town, or find any rupees, and when the knights are actually competent. Elsewise food is hard to find."

Screw arrows, he could find arrows in dungeons or steal them from monsters, healing supplies too, food however? Nope. Only in towns, especially in his Hyrule. Wild's and Twilight's and all of theirs? They might have food in the wilderness but in Legend's era? Nope. The best he could do was his apple orchard.

So if he couldn't find a town, he was screwed. If he could find a town, he needed rupees but currently, he was broke and monsters weren't dropping rupees after they died these days.

Raven was silent for a long moment. "I'm sorry you've been going through this. Is there no one in your time who could help you? What about that girl you mentioned?"

"Cadence's in a whole n'other dimension, an' Zel's busy leading the country..." Legend blinked slowly, registering the warmth of indoors hitting him. "An' I do have people who are helping me this adventure, but we got separated... I'll catch up with them 'ventually... when I'm not too weak to walk."

Raven sighed. "I see. Tell me about these people?"

He huffed, then he clambered off Raven's back a bit stubbornly. Raven rolled his eyes but gestured him to the kitchen area where Ms. Marley was cooking.

"Well, they're all heroes, people the goddesses chose to protect and save their world. One of them's my ancestor, other side, and he's pretty nice; great sword fighter, but gets lost in his head all the time. Then there's the Heroes of the Four Swords, have you heard of them?"

"Yes, I heard that story when I was out traveling."

"Yeah, as a whole, they're very grounded, down-to-earth, I mean. They're intelligent in every way possible and really fast. They're also a blacksmith." His hands moved vaguely as he spoke, a habit he had tried to break but this was Raven, he didn't mind being a bit more expressive with the man.

Raven watched him as he spoke, paying him his full attention.

"There's also my successor! He's a bit older than me, and he's taller by an inch or two. He's insanely good with magic, really scrappy in a fight, 'cause he never learned from any official place. He's still a really good fighter... stabby though. He's sharp too, notices everything, but he's a bit socially oblivious. He's also sassy, he's so much fun to banter with.

"Speaking of--There's also the Captain! You'd like him, him and probably the Rancher. The Captain's the captain of the queen's personal guard and he led an army to war that was so huge it merged two--three timelines. He's a good knight, and so is the first guy I mentioned as well as the Heroes of the Four Sword! Good knights, better men.

"The Rancher is a goat herd from some farming town just outside of Hyrule, but he's an insanely strong sword fighter and wrestler. He's really good with domestic animals, wild ones not so much. He's so honest but still nice unless you push him, he's a real country bumpkin.

"Of course, he is good with one wild animal and that would be the Champion. He's the Rancher's protege and sometimes he is completely feral. He's chaotic, kinda like how I was when we first met, he knows what to do but usually takes his own, faster, more dangerous path and generally comes out mostly unscathed."

Raven smiled softly as he listened to the teenager in front of him ramble on and on about his current companions. From the sounds of it, it was another time travel "quest" as Link liked to call them, which made the worry and concern in his stomach so much worse. Link loved and cared so wholly and clearly, these people he was talking about were his friends, maybe even close to brothers. But the boy was also hurt, the new scars and the way he gave Marley such a guarded and wary look... Link had grown up, and life had not been kind to him. Yet he was still so bright, it was sad.

Raven hoped Link would be lucky enough to keep in contact with these new brothers of his in a way they had and likely will never be able to.

Legend insisted on helping Marley out the next day. Though their crops were small and young, and their horse had been taken by Raven to Castle Town that day, there was still plenty to do.

Marley also apparently wasn't a farm woman by birth, because she didn't have that stubbornness that Legend couldn't talk around. He helped put up the beginnings of a proper paddock for Raven's horse, Pallid--which Legend was judging him for naming his pale beige horse Pallid, but Puini was "pony" in Labyrnnese and Epona was a play on "pony" as well, so he couldn't say either of them were great at naming horses.

However, he hadn't been able to eat a whole meal yet, which was nothing he wasn't accustomed to. Re-adjusting to full meals was commonplace after most of his adventures. He did feel much better and had stayed on his feet and active the whole day without a problem though.

"Can I tag along?" He asked Raven the following day, perched on the newly built fence as the knight captain strapped on Pallid's saddle.

Raven paused his movements and looked at Legend with a slight frown. "Are you well enough to?"

Objectively no, but he was also himself, so yes.

"I feel well enough. I'd prefer to adjust back to eating more but that's unlikely with my current schedule, and I really need to get supplies."

He didn't mention he didn't have any money and fully intended to steal.

Raven sighed. "If you'd like, I wouldn't mind you accompanying me. I would actually appreciate that, and I'm sure you could teach some of them at the station a thing or two, recovering or not."

Legend rolled his eyes as his lips spread into a smirk. "Please, knowing the standard of knights, a keese could teach them a thing or two."

Raven laughed. "Your knights must be extremely disappointing if that's true. No, my men are better than that, but even when we last fought together you would have severely outclassed them."

"Alright, if I'm up for it at the moment I wouldn't mind a spar or two. Just... Just don’t let me near the cell block."

His ancestor paused for a brief moment before he nodded. "Alright. Go let Marley know you're coming with me."

"Okay," he chirped and hopped off the paddock fence.

He wandered inside, leaning around corners to find Marley working on her yeast starter.

"Miss Marley?"

"Oh! Link! Can I help you?"

"Raven says to tell you that he's letting me come with him to Castle Town. I also promise that I'll be careful not to push myself if I have the option and I'll keep an eye on him."

Marley smiled warmly at him. "Alright, thanks for letting me know. You two be careful out there, and come home safe."

"We will, thanks, Miss Marley."

Legend hummed to himself as he found a perch with two crates, watching the training field and Raven put dozens of soldiers through drills.

"Now I want fifty laps around the whole guard station, go!"

Most ran off without another moment, one groaned and Legend heard him mutter a curse.

"Fucking bastard--telling us what to do as if he and his family ain't the reason our country's in ruin."

He froze, but Raven clearly heard it too and glared daggers at the soldier who was reluctantly going to follow.

"Hey, Smithson! I have a different thing for you." Raven grabbed a decent sword from a nearby rack and walked toward the open area near Legend's perch. The soldier grumbled and walked over.

Raven looked at Legend and held out the sword.

"I want you fighting Link until he decides you’re both done or you win."

Legend grinned, and he dropped from the barrels.

"You want me fighting a squire?"

Raven gave him a sharp look. "I want you to learn some things and I think defeat will be a good teacher. You should note as well that Link is mine."

"So you insult his family you insult mine," Legend spoke up as he tested the sword. "And I want you to learn some respect about the people who have given their lives and limb for this country."

"You’re a child."

"I've seen more death and violence in my years of living yet than you will in your lifetime," Legend said casually, he kept the annoyance from his voice and just kept it blunt and factual, which definitely infuriated the man.

Good.

His heart picked up speed but he tried to push it back. Raven was nearby and watching, he wouldn't end up in a cell. He would be fine, he just had to teach this soldier some respect for their family... he would have to ask Raven what he meant by that though, because he never heard anything negative about their family like that before.

"I'll show you respect," the soldier snarled, drawing his sword and lunging.

It took more effort to keep his breathing steady and his face impassive. He danced out of the way of the blade, kicked out the soldier's leg, and hit the pommel of his sword between his shoulder blades.

"First of all, a knight does all things with honor. In any mock fight, he does not attack before they both confirm preparedness."

The soldier glared daggers at him. "Shut up!" He lunged again.

Legend held back a grin. He turned his body horizontal at the waist, leaning low to his right and as the blade swung overhead, he kicked into the soldier's side. He had been wearing chainmail, so that did little harm, but he managed to kick hard enough for him to stagger. A one handed cartwheel also had him kicking his head with his other leg.

He landed neatly, popping back up to his feet quickly as the soldier scrambled.

"Secondly, you cannot stay down for longer than a moment." He stopped the soldier's movements with his sword at his throat. "You fall, you roll with it, and you recover to continue fighting. You fall and rush to stand up? You're killed."

"What would you know!" The soldier wrapped his hand around his blade and once again slashed blindly.

Legend easily danced out of its reach. He let the soldier stand and he took an actual stance.

"Would you like to actually spar or shall I continue with the verbal lessons before we step into the physical?"

The soldier clearly hated him, not a new feeling for Legend, and he lunged again.

Legend stayed still and this time he blocked. It was harder, he was considerably shorter and weaker than this soldier, but he wasn't inept.

He slid beside the soldier, letting his anger-filled attack drag him ahead and he smacked the flat side of his sword against the back of his unprotected head.

"Knights don’t let their emotions control them in battle, most assume that means fear, but that also applies to anger, love, grief, lust, and pride." Legend danced under the swinging blade and ignored the curses and slurs thrown his way. "They keep a level head in battle and act with honor. They use their minds just as much as their hearts, and in every stand they take, they are prepared to give their lives."

He recited a whole one of his grandfather's lectures, though paraphrased, on the duty and actions of a true knight. Each time, it just pissed the soldier off even more.

He would knock him down, dodge his reckless swings, critique, and forcibly fix his stances, they were still going when the rest of the training squadron returned from their laps less exhausted than the man actively trying to hurt Legend.

He heard some of the men question Raven.

"Captain, what's with the kid... and why is he kicking Smithson's ass?"

"He's mine, and because Smithson decided to speak ill of men who gave their lives for the safety of Hyrule," Raven responded.

"But that's a kid."

"And he would win a fight against any one of you easily, and were he in peak condition and not recovering from a lethal cold, I would have had him fighting groups of you at once."

"Groups--would he win?"

"Yes," Legend called over his shoulder, dancing around his opponent again and this time smacking his backside with the flat of his blade, garnering laughter from the audience and rage from the soldier, Smithson. "I'll have you know I took out a horde of at least thirty monsters not a month ago and came out unscathed. In a serious fight--"

Legend used his sword to block the next attack and stepped into Smithson's space to hook a foot behind his leg, destabilize his stance, and punch his face.

"--I'd have killed this whole compound and would be headed back home in time for dinner." He met Raven's eyes, which had a sliver of doubt, but he nodded slightly.

"Well done, Link," Raven said. "That's enough for you both."

Legend nodded and sheathed his sword. He heard movement behind him and expected the anger, he didn't expect the attack.

"Link!" Raven cried, moving forward.

Instinct took over when he saw the tip of a blade swinging at him from the side, probably aimed just as recklessly as the rest of the attacks and therefore aimed far too high.

He turned his head but didn't move despite the outcry. Nayru's Love enveloped him, and the blade bounced off the shield that formed for the briefest moment.

Smithson froze, still clearly enraged but also visibly stricken and terrified.

Legend raised an eyebrow. "Your captain said we were done. You need to learn to respect your superiors, seems you're not only disrespectful to those who came before you and gave their lives so you could stand here with the life and freedoms you have."

Legend had to learn that lesson when he was young too, the Fallen Hero had been weak in his eyes as a child. It wasn't until Hytopia, three months after his first adventure, when he met two of his fellow heroes for the first time, that he learned. It didn't matter the circumstances or individual strengths, the Fallen Hero, Time, had given his life to protect Hyrule, and failing or succeeding, he deserved Legend's full respect.

Raven didn't let Link come back. Not with how bitter some of his men were over his descendant's words. He believed Link, though he marked his words as slightly arrogant. He did believe him and believed that he could survive a fight with the entire compound.

But with that belief and trust came worry, because the boy Raven had fought and won against when they first met, was already extremely skilled once a sword and not a spear was in his hand.

"Captain!" A scout ran over to him, stepping into attention. "A group of armed hylians is approaching the town! They appear battle-ready and dangerous."

"We can't deny them sanctuary unless they give us reason to," Raven chided.

"One wears the mark of the Queen, but Commander Thomas does not recognize him."

Commander Thomas was a worn veteran who had been in service for over sixty years now, claimed to know every single captain or higher-ranked soldier in Her Majesty's army.

"Then we should welcome a returning squadron home," Raven insisted. The scout nodded and Raven let out an exasperated sigh before he headed to greet this returning officer and his team.

It was a group of about eight men and young boys, at least two squires included in that and one definitely ranked officer with a few other knights whose training was finished. They saw him approaching and the ranked officer, a blond man with the Queen's mark on a blue scarf he wore, stepped forward.

"Welcome back to the heart of Hyrule," Raven greeted.

"Ah, thank you," the knight said a bit hesitantly. "I wasn't expecting a welcome."

"One of my older soldiers saw you approaching and were wary of an officer they didn't know, he's served a long time and claims to know every officer ever ranked, so he had me alerted."

"I see," the knight said. "Well, we are actually still on mission but need information we hoped someone here would know."

"I'd be glad to help. I'm Raven, the captain of the Castle Town guard."

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm Captain Link." He gestured at the others over his shoulder and the man with a furred pelt on his shoulders, which made Raven think he was more likely a mercenary paid to give them more strength than the speed the group clearly excelled in, left with most of the younger members. It left Raven with Captain Link, a well armored man who seemed more like a paladin than anything else, a younger man with a white cape over his shoulders, and then a squire in a multi-colored tunic.

"What are you searching for?" Raven asked, turning and Captain Link walking with him.

"Our main concern is a missing member of our company," the white caped man spoke up. "He's our scholar and went missing a couple months ago."

"A scholar? I don’t mean to provoke, but are you certain he's survived this long?" Raven asked warily.

"Definitely," the white caped man insisted. "He's the most experienced of all of us, in battle as well."

The captain nodded his agreement slowly, Raven quickly recognized that the question of if their scholar was alive or not was a point of contention.

"We're... We aren't certain. But if he is alive then he is our main concern and second is our mission objective: a group of monsters strengthened by dark magic to the point of them bleeding blackened blood. We are on an extermination mission and first we need to find them."

Raven nodded, thoughtful. He hadn't had any reports of strengthened monsters or monsters with black blood. He swore Link, his descendent Link not this captain, had made a reference to such a thing but that was it. He said as much, leaving Link unmentioned.

"Someone has referenced these monsters?" The squire spoke up, sparking Raven's surprise, but he nodded.

"My, ah..." he had been claiming Link as his own, letting people assume their connection, but to say it outright? He'd have to. "My son, he's traveled a lot and recently observed a training course. He claimed my soldiers wouldn't last a minute against "black bloods" but I'm unsure if that is what you mean."

"Has he fought them?" The captain looked concerned. "These monsters are extremely powerful, my team is specially trained and even then an encounter with them ends in dangerous and sometimes life threatening injuries."

"Link can handle himself well."

The men all stopped in their tracks.

The captain grabbed Raven's arm. "Link?" He repeated. "Your son's name is Link?"

Raven nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. "It is. Why does that matter? It's not an abnormal name, rare and considered cursed by many due to recent history, but not abnormal. You share it."

"Is he a hero?" The captain demanded. "Your son, has he wielded the Master Sword? Or the Triforce of Courage? Was he called to defeat a great evil that he never should've been able to overcome yet against all odds he did?"

Raven felt his blood go cold. A roaring sound in his ears drowned out all reason. All he knew was that these men were looking for Link, and Link had said he wasn't often held in high regard when he hailed from.

His sword was held at the other captain's throat.

"What do you want with him?" He demanded lowly. He saw one of his soldiers see the change and soon enough, more were approaching with arms raised.

"Stay your blade, Sir Raven. We don't mean any harm."

"When you start asking about my boy who nobody should even know about, much less the fact that he's the hero, I'll decide whether or not you mean to hurt him."

They stood off, not a word was spoken nor a blade was moved. Then an alarm echoed through the town as a scout ran toward them.

"Captain! Monsters approaching the front gate! We count three dozen at minimum, sir!"

A Labrynese curse escaped him.

"Take them to the cell block!" He ordered and glared at the men in front of him. "And you'll stay there until these monsters you've brought are gone."

"We can help!" They argued, but Raven's men dragged them toward the prison. Raven turned his head toward the front gate and the closing doors.

Legend ran into a squad of soldiers along the way to Castle Town, he wanted to run except one recognized him.

"Hey! You’re Cap'n Raven's kid," they said, grinning. Legend was not used to that response. "What are you doing out here?"

Legend grit his teeth. "He forgot some things back home and Miss Marley sent me to bring them to him," he explained.

"Ah, you can join us," the soldier told him. "You ain't as young as you look, are ya? All that talk the other day, you’re a knight?"

Against his will, yes. "I was knighted when I was twelve," he confirmed. "I'm seventeen now."

"Damn," one of them whistled. "Knighted? Fully?"

"By the Queen herself."

Another whistled loudly and several gave him their congratulations.

"What rank are you, if you don't mind me asking?" The man who had instigated the conversation asked.

Legend sighed softly. "Technically, I'm little more than a bodyguard to the Queen. Officially, I'm the Commander of the Queen's Royal Guard."

Fable had given him the position while he served as her personal guard between his return from overseas and Yuga's assault. She had insisted on it and he actually filled the position fairly well when the knights actually listened to him.

"Holy shit," one of the knights gasped.

"A commander? At seventeen?"

Legend shrugged. He decided not to admit he had been fifteen at the time.

"Golden Three, the Queen employing one of them?" He heard one of the quieter ones grumble. "A direct descendent?"

He looked over. "What do you mean?"

The squadron went a bit quiet.

"You... You do know your family history, right?" The first knight asked. Legend frowned.

"I'm afraid I don't know of anything that would lead the Queen to not employ any of my blood. Enlighten me?"

Looks were shared.

"If Captain Raven hasn't--"

"Do I need to make it an order? What family history."

They were clearly uncomfortable, but Legend refused to be confused or left in the dark. He hated it. Knowledge was the one thing he had currently.

"Sorry sir," a second knight stepped up, "we meant no disrespect. It's simply--We didn't wish to undermine Sir Raven, but you do outrank him so..." the knight seemed a tad wary. "See, just over fifty years ago, fifty-five now I believe?"

Another knight nodded and another muttered a confirmation.

"Yes, 55 years ago, the Fallen Hero died. You know of him, of course?" Legend nodded. "Well, though he died during his stand against the Dark Beast, it is well known to us from Castle Town to Kakariko that he was sweet on this lady from a ranch not all that far from here."

Yeah, Malon, Legend knew this...

"He had a kid with her," another spoke up. "That kid was Sir Raven's mother."

Legend's blood ran cold.

"His... His grandfather then..."

"Was the Fallen Hero," they confirmed. "You're the direct descendent of the man who many regard to have singlehandedly caused the complete upheaval and destruction of Hyrule's way of life, and nearly completely destroyed her as a whole."

That meant... That meant Time was his ancestor.

"I'm sorry for you to have found out this way, ki-- sir," one of them said but it was beyond a rushing roar in his mind. "Sir Raven must have kept it from you for a reason."

Legend stared at the ground, then he heard and felt something. His head snapped up.

"K-- Sir?"

"Castle Town is under attack," he breathed.

"What?" The soldier prodded him.

He shoved the shock of Raven's lie of omission back. "Castle Town is under attack! Are you knights or what? Let's go!"

He heard several yelps and cries of shock, but they were pretty quick to run after him as he charged ahead. He could hear the alarm bell ringing and the ground shifting from heavy, heavier than Hylian, steps.

A daze hit him, he stumbled as a powerful wave of dizziness ran through him and his hand passed through the strap of his bag.

"Sir! What--"

"Keep moving," he snapped at the knight.

He had felt that dizziness before, he had become not quite here before. Only once, but he hadn't ever really forgotten that.

Raven was going to die. Unless Legend intervened, unless someone outside of this time stepped in, Raven would die and so would Legend.

The bell ringing grew louder and Legend could see a whole horde of monsters.

"Stick together!" He ordered over his shoulder at the knights running with him. "Pair off and keep each other's backs covered! Focus on protecting the people, leave the monsters to me!"

"Wha--Yes sir!"

He saw a fallen soldier and their sword left to the wayside. It was no detour to snatch it up, even if it took a stubborn focus to wield it in his current condition.

He ran into battle, as usual. His blade sank into a monster with too much resistance and he slid back, black staining the blade in his hand.

Oh, even better.

"We aren't staying, right?"

Twilight scoffed. "Of course not."

The guards left them in cells, but the moment they did, the Rancher moved forward and broke his cell bars. Warriors whistled lowly.

"Not bad."

"I'd like to see you do better," he retorted. "Let's hurry up, we can't leave these people to fight those monsters alone."

"I can't believe there's another hero," Wind said, retrieving his stuff. "It's nice that his Dad's protective."

"Not great for us," Wild deadpanned, hooking his slate back onto his hip. "How likely is it that we'll be seeing black bloods?"

"High," Time said. "Let's go."

Sky drew Fi and followed after them. She had grown closer to dormancy since their veteran... went missing.

He didn't know if he could be optimistic anymore, obviously Legend was a powerhouse in his own right, not like Twilight and his brute strength, or Warriors and his ability to command a battlefield, or Wild and his tenacity, or Hyrule and his magical prowess, or even Sky himself and his swordsmanship. But their veteran was strong and he had accomplished the most among them.

Sky had to trust he has been able to handle himself. He had to, or else he may lose what meager control he had over the storm inside.

Their items retrieved, they ran back out to the front gates of the town.

Warriors could hear someone yelling orders over the din of the battle. He could see the soldiers holding a line between the front gate and the town, but there were monsters breaking past. Wind was fastest, slamming into a breaching moblin, and Time was right behind the sailor.

Warriors moved his attention onward. Wind and Time could handle themselves, they always could after all. He ran up the steps to the top of the wall, Wild was behind him.

He had to find the commanding officer. He could hear someone yelling and telling soldiers to close ranks, block the gates, and keep the people away from the fight.

"Where's your commander?" He questioned an archer.

"Someone mentioned that the commander of the Queen's guard is on the battlefield, sir! I haven't seen him yet, sir."

Of course, it was one of the highest-ranking officers in Castle Town. The Raven guy was nowhere to be seen either.

An explosion of flames went off near the front gates. "Close ranks!" Someone too young to be yelling orders was the one to yell them. "Push them back!"

Another explosion had more knights rushing to fill the gap left by the burnt monsters. There was a blur of red, disappearing in flickers of green and white, enveloped in blue on occasion, but Warriors never got a good look at the monster killing machine on the battlefield. He was a bit distracted by the fact that whoever was giving orders sounded almost familiar.

"Take them down, Champion!" Warriors ordered. Wild already taking out his bow and notched three arrows. Warriors leapt over the wall and threw himself into the chaos.

It was the war all over, gold followed his blade as he took to his more culling stances and slashes.

Slowly but surely, they began to clear out some of the monsters to the point of retreat.

"Sir!" An unknown voice cried. "They're retreating!"

"I noticed," the voice that had been yelling was suddenly too familiar now that it was at a normal level and he could finally place it. "Get the wounded to the medics or infirmaries. Fix the gates and walls as quick as possible and make sure no civilians are injured. If there's a second wave then we have to be ready."

Warriors whipped around.

"Veteran?!" Hyrule cried.

Hyrule had seen him first, but Warriors spotted him a beat later.

Legend was there. He was there and alive. He also looked almost nothing like their veteran. His long hair was chopped unnaturally short, he didn't have his blue cap they all teased him for, he wore a green cloak over his shoulders but when he turned Warriors could see a red over white short dress and plain brown leather boots. He held a soldier's broadsword that was soaked in various shades of blood, black and red and purple alike.

"Traveler!"

They ran at each other, Hyrule all but leaping to grab him.

Hyrule, who claimed he found Legend, who saw him, but the portal stopped him from reaching him. He had insisted he'd seen him, most of of them worried he had lost himself to grief a bit. He had been in hysterics after all, completely unconsolable and insistent that Legend--who had been missing for a month at the time--had been right in front of him, covered in blood, but alive.

The traveler hero clung to Legend, clearly searching him for any sign of injury.

"You’re okay! You’re alive!" Hyrule's hands fluttered over the other hero but never letting go of him.

"I'm alright--It's okay, breathe, traveler. I'm right here," Legend soothed. "Is everyone else okay? Are they--"

"APPLE!"

A blur of blue slammed into Legend. Warriors almost wanted to laugh as the veteran staggered back and fell back onto the ground, Hyrule falling with them.

At Wind's cry, Warriors could see Twilight's head whirl around, probably giving the Rancher severe whiplash.

He always forgot the three of them had met before. It had been three months after each of their first adventure, so a while ago for Twilight, not so long ago for Wind, and years ago for Legend.

"You’re alright!"

"Yeah--Okay, get off. Really--I'm glad to see you but I need to find someone."

Warriors noticed that Legend's hand passed through Wind's arm. Wind and Hyrule noticed too, Twilight and Wild were running over.

"Vet..." Wind croaked, eyes going wide at his arm where Legend failed to fully touch him.

"I'm fine," Legend insisted. "I promise. I just--I need a fairy and a potion, tell me one of you--"

Hyrule was shoving two potions into his hand and Legend muttered some thanks before running off. The other heroes pursued immediately.

"Raven!" Legend yelled, his head whipping side to side as he searched and his eyes landed on a knight running their direction. "Soldier!" The knight snapped to attention, nearly tripping over himself to do so. "Where is Captain Raven?"

"He's in bad condition, sir," they yelped. "They're taking him to the medics but--"

"Show me."

Warriors glanced at Time, who looked a bit pale.

"Sprite?"

"He looked bad," Time said quietly, "that captain, I don’t think he'll survive."

Legend must've heard him because he looked over his shoulder at them, and Warriors hadn't ever seen him so... blazing. "I still have a chance."

Warriors didn't know what that meant, but he followed. The heroes all exchanged potions, quietly and quickly checking one another over while trying to stay close to their veteran who was alive.

Legend's cape rippled and Warriors wasn't sure about it. He seemed almost regal with how he moved and commanded the attention of these soldiers, demanding Raven's location and getting it.

They called him sir. That was... odd.

They found the right room and Legend rushed over to Raven's side, the captain's eyes were shut and the medic spoke first.

"I'm sorry, kid. He isn't--"

"I still have a chance," Legend repeated insistently. He released the fairy Hyrule gave him and she was quick to soak the man in her healing magic.

Warriors saw Raven gasp, eyes fluttering open. Legend rushed with the potion, coaxing Raven to sit up and drink it.

The heroes stayed out of the way, but Hyrule refused to let Legend out of arms reach, and Wind and Sky were both close by too. Twilight hung back surprisingly, but Warriors was too. They just watched on worriedly.

When Raven slumped back, breathing visibly steadying, Legend dropped his head against the knight's chest and relaxed.

"Oh thank the goddesses," Legend breathed. "Don't do that!"

The veteran sounded close to tears.

Raven settled a hand in Legend's hair, his face soft. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You nearly died!" He snapped. "You would've died if I wasn't here--again!"

"I know."

"You have a wife now, and at the rate we're going with this, you'll have a kid next time. You can't--You can't keep needing a time traveler to ensure your survival."

Warriors was a bit concerned, he thought that this Raven was the father of the current hero, but this world also wasn't any they'd been to before to his knowledge, but Legend definitely knew this guy...

Was this Legend's father? They certainly had the dynamic, though Legend never mentioned family aside from an uncle.

"I'll do my best, but I only need a time traveler when one shows up," Raven said with a teasing lilt to his voice. "I'm assuming our audience are actually friends of yours?"

Legend pulled away fully. He settled on the edge of Raven's bed, looking over at the heroes. "Yeah, they're the other heroes I told you about."

"I see." Raven looked at Warriors. "I apologize for throwing you all in jail, nobody here knows Link is the hero, none of them know there is ever a hero in this time even if only every now and then, I was worried."

"It's alright," Warriors said, before Legend could question what had happened. "I get it. I've had similar experiences, there was a time when if anyone ever asked for a young hero and I didn't know them, I would've killed them on the spot."

A few heads turned toward him, but only Time's angled knowingly.

"I imagine they must have meant a lot to you," Raven said.

Warriors thought of two kids, one only a couple of years younger than he had been and another much younger than them both. They were both kids, one had been nine or ten... or even more, and the other was sixteen. How the older of the two had immediately adopted the younger and then latched right onto Warriors himself.

"Yeah, they do," Warriors confirmed.

Raven seemed to come to some kind of decision as he ruffled Legend's hair. "You got some good friends here, kid. Go catch up with them, I'll be fine here. Worst comes to worst, you'll head out and I'll watch over you."

Legend glanced between them, there was something indecipherable on the younger hero's face, but he nodded.

"Alright," he said. "Get some rest, old man. I'll see you when it's all over."

"Best be a long time now."

"Considering my track record, it will be."

Legend got off the bed and Warriors ushered the other heroes out and out of the way. They left Raven alone and Legend waved them to follow him.

Legend took the other heroes to Raven's office. Once they were all inside and he shut the door, he slumped against the nearest wall and shoved his hands through his hair. A heavy sigh escaped him, his whole body shuddering with it.

Sky came closer. "Vet? You alright?"

"Sorry, I just--Fading sucks."

"Fading?" Wind frowned.

Legend hummed. He pushed his hair back as he raised his head before he let his hands fall. "Yeah, sorry. Raven's... Raven is my ancestor, some 400 years before my era, he's... It happened before, during my fourth quest. He was going to be executed, and I... Well, he was going to die, and if he died, so did I."

He heard the sharp inhales and saw most of them pale drastically.

He laughed. "Yeah. That's--That's how I knew he could still survive. I... I was still here, so I could still save him."

There was a long pause, just everyone a bit surprised and shaken and he wasn't surprised by that. Either way, he flashed them a grin, adjusting his stance against the wall to be a casual lean and not the exhausted slump it was.

"So, what'd I miss?"

"What'd--Why did you disappear is a better question!" Wind screeched. "What happened?! Where'd you go?! What's with the haircut and new get-up?!"

Legend winced. "Ah... Well, it's a long story and I don't want to get into it?"

The deadpan looks from everyone in the room had him groaning.

"Fine! Fine--I might've gotten arrested."

"You what?!"

"Twice."

"What?!"

"I only deserved it once though."

"That's one too many!" Four exclaimed.

"Funny you're the one to say that," Legend said awkwardly.

Four stared at him, and then his mouth dropped. "Do not tell me you committed a crime in my era."

"I generally prefer not to lie but okay: I didn't commit a crime in your era."

They all stared at him.

"Just--" Sky intervened. "Explain from the beginning?"

He didn't even want to think of the beginning. So he just... ignored the part he didn't want to say.

"I got arrested in my era because the knights there are still partially effected by a mind-altering spell that had them controlled by Agahnim, the evil mage that revived Ganon the first time around," Legend sighed. "They think I kidnapped my Zelda, I didn't, I run from them, they chase, they try to capture me and usually fail. Nine times out of ten, I'm fine."

"And that one?"

"Only happens when I'm compromised," Legend finished for Twilight. "And... I think... I swear I told someone but frankly, I can't remember anymore, I did have a concussion at the time. Mild, would've gone away with sleep and if it didn't we were in town and I'd have gotten a potion."

They seemed to agree with his logic, Hyrule speaking up and saying he had known.

"Yep. So--But a guard caught me and I was arrested. I didn't manage to escape before the shift but I've managed since... for the most part."

"Last time I saw you, you were covered in blood," Hyrule said bluntly.

Legend snorted, he grinned at his successor. "I promise you, most of that blood was mine."

Hyrule's eyes widened. "Vet you were soaked!"

He just grinned and shrugged. "Anyways, yeah. From then it was just trying to survive."

"And you look awful right now because...?" Wind questioned, eyes narrowed. "You look skeletal, Veteran."

"Eh, I caught a cold a couple weeks ago and still feeling the effects. It's fine. Plus food isn't easy to find in most of your eras without stealing."

Four suddenly paled. "That's--You stole food in my era?"

Legend didn't fail to notice how the older four's faces shifted to something guarded. He nodded to the smithy. "Yep. I owe Mister Carp two rupees for an apple, Missus Miller four for a loaf of bread, and then Missus Shepherd forty for this wool cloak I snagged--oh, and another two to Carp for the jerky."

He hated the pity.

"And the hair?" Wind asked tentatively.

Legend hesitated. He tested his length, and it only came down to his chin in the front and the middle of his neck in the back. He grimaced a bit.

"I... I had it cut, that's all."

He liked his hair long, he liked being able to tie it up, he liked being able to sit on the dirt path in Kakariko and let the kids play with it, and he liked to let Zelda test hairstyles on him. Dusk had to cut it short to even it out from the abuse he had taken from the guards of his own time.

"Why?"

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Twilight sighed. "Veteran--"

"I said I don’t want to talk about it," he snapped, shooting a glare at Twilight. "I'm not saying any more. I'm done. That's it."

Something apparently must've shown on his face or in his voice because all of them suddenly looked extremely concerned.

"Vet..." Sky was still close to him and he grabbed Legend's hand, startling the veteran. "What happened to you?"

Something shot through him and he thought he'd break, but he managed to grit his teeth and jerk away. "Nothing happened, Chosen. Leave it."

Thankfully, they did, but Legend didn't dare believe that was the end of it.

Legend had led them to the farm, Raven insistent on returning to Marley before he began his medically required rest. They arrived there and Legend noticed Time falter a bit, he ignored it, seeing Marley at the fence with her garden that'll one day be overflowing with tomatoes and other vegetables.

"We're back Miss Marley!" Legend called, waving a hand.

She looked up and a clear expression of relief hit her.

Legend turned to the heroes as Raven and Marley hugged. "There isn't enough room in the house for half of us, but the area is normally very safe. It shouldn't take long to go back to town though, if you'd rather stay in an--"

The familiar woosh and following tug was the tell-tale sign of a portal, formed just outside the front property line. There was no fence or gate, but in Legend's era, there was both, though they never did have a sign... Lon Lon Ranch had a sign, now that Legend thought about it, but otherwise, its fence was the same... He hadn't noticed that before.

"Don't even matter, vet," Twilight sighed. Legend decided not to draw attention to Hyrule latching onto his arm, or Sky shifting a bit closer to them both.

"Link, what's that?" Raven asked.

"Our ride. Time travel, remember?" Legend smiled at him. "I'll probably not see you again?"

"Best not to hope for it, you need a break, kid."

"I'm fine, adventures are fun."

"That's not what I meant."

He rolled his eyes, grinning. "Too bad. Bye Miss Marley, take care of that idiot."

"Bye Link, take care of yourself. And bye to your friends too," Marley called back to him.

"Bye, ma'am!"

"Buh bye!"

"Nice t'meet ya, miss!"

"See ya, Cap'n Raven, sir!"

"Til next time!"

Various other calls of farewell went off and Hyrule and Sky all but held Legend's hand through the portal. Legend decided last second to pull away and he dodged around Twilight and Wild, who were at the back of the group, to hug his ancestor.

Raven chuckled softly. "I was waiting for that. You be safe, Link."

Legend grinned at him as he pulled away. "Ah, you know I can't promise that. I'll be careful though."

"I s'pose that's all I can ask for. Goodbye, Link."

"Bye, Raven-- Oh, by the way, your men think I'm a commander so they told about your grandpa." Raven froze. "I hope you don't blame him too much like they do," he said as he moved away. "This hero business isn't exactly easy."

Raven glanced at the heroes behind Legend, who had all stopped when Legend slipped out of the procession. The pull of the portal grew, but it was restrained, like a gentle reminder rather than a harsh demand.

"Yes... I'm actually rather surprised you didn't already know."

"Eh, I've been learning a lot about my heritage on these adventures, you and yours included. Anyways--Bye!"

"Bye, Link."

Legend grabbed Hyrule's hand again and was the first through the portal, the other heroes following soon after.

Next>>

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across-violet-skies · 10 months ago

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febuwhump lineup!

it's possible I might change it up if things don't go well, but here's my current lineup! I did my best to make it mostly even across all 9 of them, but I'm a hyrule writer at heart <3

(if you want more details/previews of complete or wips, let me know!)

DAY 1: helpless - legend (complete!)

DAY 2: solitary confinement - wind (complete!)

DAY 3: "bite down on this" - time (complete!)

DAY 4: obedience - wolfie (complete!)

DAY 5: rope burns - hyrule (complete!)

DAY 6: "you lied to me" - wild & twilight

DAY 7: suffering in silence - time (wip)

DAY 8: "why won't it stop?" - four

DAY 9: bees - twilight

DAY 10: killing in self-defense - sky

DAY 11: ALT 6: immortality - wild (wip)

DAY 12: semi-conscious - legend

DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt" - warriors & wind

DAY 14: blood-stained tiles - twilight (& legend sorta)

DAY 15: "who did this to you?" - hyrule

DAY 16: came back wrong - wild

DAY 17: hostage situation - wars

DAY 18: too weak to move - four

DAY 19: "please don't" - sky

DAY 20: truth serum - legend

DAY 21: unresponsive -wind

DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there" - wild & sky

DAY 23: presumed dead - wind

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you" - hyrule & legend

DAY 25: waterboarding - sky

DAY 26: ALT 5: cpr - hyrule & wars

DAY 27: left for dead - four

DAY 28: ALT 9: lightning strike - time & wars

DAY 29: not allowed to die - four & hyrule

#febuwhump #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #lu legend #lu wind #lu time #lu wolfie #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu twilight #lu four #lu sky #lu warriors #lu chain

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 9 months ago

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Day 25: Lightning Strike

@febuwhump prompt Alt 9: Lightning Strike

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Cadet Hunter (C-9931), Cadet Crosshair, Ninety-Nine Cadet Batch as featured in my WIP fic 'Pieces of the People We Love' - haven't read it? This is a retelling of a scene from Part 1 from Hunter's POV. All you need to know is that Hunter is younger than Crosshair; they are from separate batches of enhanced clones and haven't been introduced yet. Word Count: ~2385 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Struggling with how a Kaminoan lightning storm affects his enhanced senses, a young enhanced clone cadet makes an unexpected friend

Hunter is about 8/9, Crosshair about 13 in this sequence

Ninety-Nine stopped and listened for a moment, swopping the food tray he carried to his left hand and raising his right to palm open the door.

As soon as he hit the keypad he braced himself.

The cadet inside came barrelling towards the opening, scraping past the door before it was wide enough to permit his skinny frame proper passage. Ninety-Nine caught him with a practiced flourish, turning the boy around and guiding him back inside.

"Hey, Three-One," he greeted with a genial smile. "Did you know it was me?"

The boy merely nodded, plastering himself to Ninety-Nine's side in a way which impeded both of their passage across the room. Ninety-Nine rolled his eyes and let the boy be dragged along, eventually laying the tray down on the table.

"Sit up and eat your lunch," he instructed. "I'll tidy up."

Not that there was much to do. Three of the four bunk beds were stripped and bare. The last occupied bunk was a nest of tangled blankets, but other than that 9931 was a relatively tidy resident of the room.

He didn't have any belongings to make a mess with.

Still, Ninety-Nine folded the blankets down neatly and did what he could to plump the thin pillow. It was more to show the kid he cared than because it was necessary. Maker knew the other maintenance clones were at a loss dealing with this solitary enhanced cadet.

When the youngster had finished eating – he was picky about what he had, and the plate was still half-full – Ninety-Nine creaked his bent body down onto the bench opposite.

"What have you been up to, Three-One?" he asked, nodding enthusiastically to encourage the boy to talk.

9931 slipped from the table and darted to a storage locker, coming back with a datapad.

"Unconventional warfare," he said, his quiet voice just for Ninety-Nine's ears, a hand curling around Ninety-Nine's sleeve as he spoke. It was such a difference from the boisterous cadets in the main halls, or even the other small groups of enhanced cadets.

He sat with the boy for a while, letting him flick through diagrams of ambush tactics and environmental traps. Then he reached for the tray and its half-finished meal.

The change in 9931 was instant. He dropped the datapad and clung onto Ninety-Nine instead, a desperate look on his face.

"You can't go."

"I have to, Three-One," he said resignedly, offering the boy a smile even as he peeled the grasping fingers from his arm. "I have other duties."

The boy looked distraught. "There's a storm coming."

Ninety-Nine looked out the window at the overcast Kaminoan ocean - grey but calm. He huffed a small smile. “You’re always right about these things,” he acknowledged, glancing back at the cadet. "Are you scared of the lightning, Three-One?"

No answer. Ninety-Nine wondered what the Kaminoans had done to enhance the 99-Threes. It certainly wasn't the same as his brothers' enhancement.

Regretfully he extracted himself from 9931's clinging grasp and heading for the door. Three-One trailed him for a moment before darting ahead.

"Don't go," repeated the cadet, and now an edge of demand entered his voice. Skinny arms and legs splayed in a star, blocking the door. “Don’t.”

Ninety-Nine sighed and rested a hand on the boy's shoulder, crouching down to his height to speak to him.

"You're lonely, I understand" he said, the softness of sympathy in his words echoing in the quiet space between them. It was unfathomable to him that, a fortnight after his last batchmate was decommissioned, 9931 was still alone in his barracks. Ninety-Nine felt sure this clone should be fostered into another group of enhanced cadets, but nobody cared what a defective maintenance clone thought.

Slowly he creaked back to his feet, reaching over Three-One's head for the door controls.

“I’ll see you again next time I’m on rota in this part of the city,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice.

9931 turned into a ball of desperate fury, clawing at Ninety-Nine’s clothes and arms, struggling to get past him to the doorway. Ninety-Nine gripped him firmly, pushing him back into the room, shoving head, arms, legs, arms again, back from the rapidly shrinking gap as the door hissed closed once more. Three-One’s wordless noises of distress could be heard until the last, when Ninety-Nine snatched his hand back to stop it being trapped in the door.

He sighed as he reached up and activated the door lock. Then stood and started at the red light for a long moment, thinking.

On the other side of the door he could hear the thump and slide of the lonely young cadet slumping against the door-frame, the quiet snuffling of tears that followed.

Hesitantly, glancing round to make sure he wasn’t being watched, Ninety-Nine deactivated the lock. There. If anyone asked, he could blame it on forgetfulness, or mis-keying the code. Nobody expected much of defective clones anyway. And it wasn’t like he was leaving the door open. Just leaving it unlocked so that if Three-One tried the controls from the inside, it would work.

C-9931 paced circuits of the room, trailing his fingers along the wall and the thick transparisteel window which protected the near-empty bunk room from the roiling ocean outside. The slide of his fingertips across the smooth surface was barely enough to ground him, trying to keep his thoughts in his body as the swell of the storm grew outside.

9931 could feel the electromagnetic potential even through the insulated walls of the Kaminoan city. It felt to him like a vast pressure building, an intangible force pressing against a sense he had never adequately described to anyone but had realised early on he didn’t share with most of his brothers.

As much as he hated the daily susurrus of the city’s power-systems tingling at the edge of his heightened perception, the planet’s storms were worse. The build and sudden release of energy whipped through his senses with such force that it was akin to pain, a deep-seated ache that clouded his mind and couldn’t be escaped. There was nothing to do but wait it out.

He needed this sense. He knew it in a way that brought little comfort. The Kaminoans were so pleased with him because of his enhanced senses, thrilled whenever he stretched his awareness to the edge of what was possible. Congratulated themselves on the way he could sense the EM flow of the city, the labs, the training rooms.

He had seen brothers decommissioned because they didn’t share the sense that made him so useful.

He had seen brothers decommissioned because they couldn’t handle the pain that came with the overwhelm.

The sudden, sharp increase in pressure in his head let him know what was coming. He flinched, hands going to his head, cringing as the storm finally broke outside with the first snap of lightning forking down towards the turbulent ocean.

The discharge of the lightning strike brought with it a lessening of potential, but 9931 knew it was temporary. Kamino’s storms could last for hours; days. It might be mere minutes before the next strike. That familiar build-agony-release would constrict his mind again, and again, until the storm blew itself out.

When he was small, he’d had a brother who understood. One from his batch of five who shared the sense. 9934’s EM sense had been even greater than 9931’s.

Too sensitive. 9934 had been decommissioned when they were eighteen months old. Now 9931 was three, and desperate to survive the fate which had befallen each of his brothers.

The storms had been easier to weather with them. Even if they didn’t share his senses, their presence had been a welcome distraction. They could coax him through the worst of it if they were in training, or simply hold him so he could ground himself in their presence if they were on downtime.

Now he was the last one left, and he wouldn’t let the Kaminoans know he was struggling. Couldn’t afford to. Not when he knew what awaited a failure to fulfil expectations.

Another build of pressure. Another snap of pain as the storm’s potential discharged in a flash of lightning. 9931 spun into the wall, crushing himself to the surface, tears leaking from eyes squeezed shut. His fingers clawed uselessly against the hollow of the door-frame, seeking any sensation to drown out the ache of the storm’s fluctuations.

A beep as his fingers passed over the touchpad. The door whooshed open.

Startled, 9931 jumped back and stared warily at the now unbarred entry. No-one there. Just an empty corridor outside; somewhere to flee to, to explore, to try and seek out anything to distract him from the storm.

Tentatively, on muffled steps, he left the room and started down the long hallways of Kamino.

For a time, the exploration distracted him. Many of the doors were locked, but even a narrow storage nook was a good hiding place for a small clone cadet. It was easy for 9931 to avoid anyone in the passageways – his enhanced senses meant he knew they were coming long before they were at risk of finding him and ending his freedom.

The storm still blew outside, the build-snap-ache pressing at his mind with the lightning even if he could no longer see out into the roiling sky. Before long the stabs of pain it brought to his head were too intense to ignore.

9931 knew he should find his way back to his own room, but now his vision blurred with the pain and he wasn’t sure how far he had come. Palming open the nearest door, he stumbled into a familiar-looking but odd-smelling room. A bunk room, like his, only filled with the scattered detritus of living and the scent of other clones.

Too tired to question or explore further, 9931 stumbled to the nearest bunk and crawled into it, dragging the blanket around himself. He folded the fabric up over his head, letting it scratch against his skin, taking a deep breath and surrounding himself with the reassuring smell of other clones.

Other clones. Cadets like him.

It wasn’t being held by his brothers, but it was better than wandering alone back to his room. His aching body sagging into the thin mattress, 9931 closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift.

The door opened. 9931’s attention snapped sharply back to the room outside the cocoon of the blanket, straining to listen. The electromagnetic fluctuations of the storm still trembled against his enhanced senses, but for now he tried to pay attention to what his normal senses were telling him.

Someone was moving about the room. 9931 stuffed his hands into his mouth, almost holding his breath, praying he wouldn’t be found.

The storm was building to a spike again. A sudden crescendo of pain, and he squeaked out a whimper of pain, hoping it was muffled by his hands. Outside the blanket, the sky flashed bright with lightning.

Then the blanket was whipped back, an older clone cadet glaring down at him. Before he really thought what he was doing 9931 launched himself at the bigger boy, arms going round his waist, burying his face in the boy’s chest.

“What are you doing?” snarled an irate teenaged voice, and a hand clamped round 9931’s upper arm and tried to push him away.

9931 tightened his grip, shuddering as another wave of pressure scraped over his raw senses before the flash-snap of lightning and thunder. A clone. Another cadet, and 9931 drank in his presence before, “Let go of me!”, the other boy’s fist twisted in the collar of his cadet reds and he was thrown roughly to the floor.

For a moment their eyes locked, 9931 gazing up into familiar dark brown eyes in an unfamiliar lean, narrow face. The teenaged cadet had a shock of silver-white hair which almost shone in the stormlit room, and a thin tracing of ink outlined his right eye.

The older cadet’s top lip curled in a snarl. “What’re you doing in here, reg?” he hissed, eyes narrowing to a fierce glare. His displeasure was clear, and 9931 would have shrunk away if not for the fresh strike from the storm which made him flinch, clamping his hands over his ears at the peak of pain.

The boy scoffed a laugh. “You little idiot,” he said, folding his arms. “It’s just an electrical storm.”

More lightning. 9931 couldn’t think, tangling his fingers into his short hair and tightening his grip to try and ground himself.

“I get it. You don’t like the storm,” came the unsympathetic comment from the silver-haired boy. He scowled down at 9931, fierce and unyielding. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

9931 said nothing. Silent tears tracked down his cheeks, and he wasn’t sure if they were from the pain of his ragged senses or the way the cadet had pushed him away with such aggression.

For a long moment he waited, afraid to make the next move, afraid also of what the irritable older boy was going to do.

“Oh for crying out loud,” the teenager muttered, and he hauled 9931 to his feet. Relief flooded through 9931, and he immediately pressed into the boy’s chest again, shivering and twitching as lightning struck and sent flinching stabs of pain through him.

“My head hurts,” he mumbled, all he could think of to say to explain his presence. “The storm makes my head hurt.”

His face buried in the warm darkness of the older boy’s shirt, 9931 felt a hesitant hand settle on his head. Nails slowly scraped against his scalp, and the sensation brought an odd relief as the older boy combed his fingers through his tangled hair.

“Have you… told anyone about that?” he was asked, and now the boy’s tone was softer.

Without looking up, 9931 shook his head. “Didn’t want to get decommissioned.”

The boy’s chest moved in a sigh. It sounded almost sympathetic.

Then, “Get off me.” 9931 found himself pushed away forcefully and held at arm’s length, looking up into the intense, tattoo-framed gaze of the older cadet once more. “I’m going to order you some painkillers. You’re going to take them. Then you’re going to get out of here. Understand?”

9931 nodded mutely. He sat back on the edge of the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket towards him and toying with it. The other boy stalked to the com panel by the door, summoning a medical droid with a handful of button punches.

He wasn’t being nice. That wasn’t the right word for it. His posture was still defensive and angry as he leaned by the door, waiting for the pain meds to arrive. But in 9931’s short life it was one of the first acts of unprompted kindness that had been directed his way.

Despite the storm he kept his gaze fixed on the older boy, memorising every inch of his face.

When the meds arrived the older boy brought them over, dumping the tablets unceremoniously into 9931’s curled hand and glaring until he had swallowed them.

“Thanks,” said 9931, no more than a whisper.

He wished he could press against the older boy again, just to feel connected for a few moments longer. He didn’t risk it. The boy looked ready to shove him away again even at this distance.

“Get out of here,” came the rough command. “Don’t tell anyone you were here.”

9931 nodded miserably, dragging himself to his feet, pulling the blanket with him before releasing it at last. He fidgeted a moment, trailing to the door before glancing back into the room.

“Get out,” the demand was repeated, and 9931 fled.

The storm passed. Another seven-day passed. 9931 thought about the tattooed, silver-haired cadet every day.

“C-9931, given the circumstances we have decided to move onto a different phase of your training. There is plenty for you still to cover from basic training, but without a squad of batchmates at the same developmental stage this is going to be difficult. We plan to take you off-planet to hone the use of your enhancements.

“Don’t worry, C-9931. Once you’ve mastered the role you will play as a trooper, we will assign you to a squad. You won’t be on your own much longer. This short training stint off-world is going to be good for you.

“I’m sure it won’t be long. The sooner you master using your enhancements in the field, the sooner you will be assigned to a unit.”

Ninety-Nine saw him off as they escorted him to the shuttle.

“Take care, Three-One,” he said with a sad smile.

9931 thought about telling him of the silver-haired boy who had found him during the storm. He wondered if Ninety-Nine knew who the other boy was.

He didn’t have chance.

He was placed into the shuttle and taken to the next stage of his training.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday25 #febuwhumpalt9 #lightning strike #cadet batch #cadet hunter #cadet crosshair #tbb hunter #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #just_thoughts

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thiawen · 9 months ago

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Febuwhump Day 8

Prompt: “Why Won’t It Stop?”

Fandom: Star Trek AOS

Warning: Nightmares; Previous Character Death

@febuwhump

Spock awoke with a gasp.

He lay there for several moments, heart racing. His body trembled with remembered grief.

It didn’t matter how much he meditated or what techniques he used, he had nightmares every time he slept.

Over and over, the memories replayed for the torment of his sleeping mind. The warp core. Jim’s death. The worst moment of Spock’s life.

It didn’t matter that Jim was alive now. The dreams didn’t stop. Logic failed him.

“I’m scared, Spock.”

Spock clenched his eyes tightly against the burn of tears. Why won’t it stop? Was he doomed to see Jim die every time he closed his eyes?

He rose from the bed with a sigh.

For someone of his rank, visiting hours were more suggestion than fact. And when it came to him and his captain, they did not exist. He would make himself presentable and then walk to the Starfleet Medical Center.

He needed to see Jim.

#febuwhumpday8 #Star Trek Fic #Star Trek aos #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump2024 #my fanfiction #my writing #Star Trek #Spock #james t kirk #james kirk #jim kirk #k/s #kirk/spock #Spirk #prompt fill

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 9 months ago

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Febuwhump day 8 -- "Why Won't it Stop?"

“Why won’t it stop?”

The tearful declaration shouldn’t have surprised Time, but yet it did. The group’s veteran had been plagued by nightmares for what seemed to be weeks now, the cause of this affliction completely unknown and its solution just as elusive. At first, he’d hidden it from the group of heroes—then, when the bags under his eyes became too prominent to explain away, he’d taken the other’s worry in stride, joking with Warrior about how he liked coffee as black as his soul, waking Wind up early so that he too could suffer the curse of watching the sun rise over the trees. Then that occasional sleepless night stretched into two, and three, and four in a row. Now, he was exhausted, too exhausted to even be bitter about the situation, and some of those snarky walls came down with him.

The heroes had a watch, set up so that two people were up at all hours of the night, switching out so that everyone got a decent amount of sleep while the camp remained safe and guarded. Recently, that duty had expanded to accompanying Legend in his nightly vigils by the campfire, where he was always found to have drawn from his bedroll after that first hour of rest was interrupted by nightmares. Legend hadn’t even noticed their silent system concerning his care, which worried Time all the more.

He wondered what kind of nightmares could be making their prickly, battle-hardened veteran awake from his dreams gasping and trembling like a child, hour after hour, night after night. The rest of the heroes didn’t know what to think of it, either. They averted their eyes and squeezed his shoulder or pressed hot chocolate into his hands before they retreated, giving him his space to sort himself out. Pride was a tricky thing, and Legend was nothing if not fiercely prideful—to see him this way put them all on the wrong foot, and they were all afraid of making the wrong move and pushing the veteran to decide he’d make them share in his suffering with his harsh tongue.

“I… I just… why won’t it stop?” Legend nearly whimpered the words. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. “I want it to stop.”

“I know, I know,” Time soothed, carded a gentle hand through his damp, greasy hair. Another thing that Time was surprised about, but knew that he shouldn’t have been. Just a few minutes earlier, Legend had shot up in his bedroll with a strangled gasp—as he did every night—in the wake of one of his nightmares. He’d stolen over to the fire, trailing a blanket behind him like a ghost, and just stood there and blinked down at Time as if trying to determine if he was real or not. Time, on instinct, had lifted an arm to invite Legend to sit next to him—and before he knew it, the kid slammed into his chest like a cannonball, curling up in his lap. Time took it in stride well enough, though he could already imagine Malon’s delighted squeal when he relayed the scenario to her in some letter later, when all of this was over. Because this spell would end, and their vet would be alright again, eventually. “Just close your eyes for a little bit, you have to get some rest. Even if you can’t get back to sleep, it’s okay to just relax for a bit.”

The long rehearsed and repeated words fell empty off of his tongue. Legend’s little disbelieving scoff was enough of an answer to that advice. Gee, Time, don’t you think he’d already thought of that? Sleeping and resting and relaxing? But Legend didn’t voice that snarky comment, and Time wished he would have, if only to imitate a reminder of their normal, sassy veteran, only for a moment. Instead, he rubbed at his eyes, sniffling, and curled tighter around himself.

“I just… how did you manage it, Time?” Legend said, his shoulders raising. His blond bangs, tipped with that odd pink that he seemed to favor, obscured his eyes. Still, one of his hands clenched in the fabric of Time’s tunic, and the lines of his shoulders were tense. “You… you got married… you got out of… of this life of adventuring and fighting monsters and… and all of that stuff. Got yourself a house, a family, a… a life, outside of… adventure, or whatever.” He turned his face away, his tone hesitant, like he was worried about angering Time with his next words: “Malon… don’t you worry she’ll be… taken?”

“What do you mean?” asked Time, keeping his tone light. His heart sank nevertheless, because he knew exactly what the kid meant.

“Well, just like… you’ll get too comfortable, and then something’ll happen, and you won’t be ready because you let your guard down and you hurt those you love because you got too close?” Legend sat up with a start then, scrubbing at his face. He turned away from Time, hugging his arms around himself as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’m sure I’m not making any sense.”

“No, no, I understand you. Are you thinking of someone in particular? Perhaps that ‘roommate’ of yours?” Time asked, his tone teasing. “I’ve met him before, that little bunny hood of his was always so goofy.”

“Yeah… so goofy…” Legend said dreamily, and wasn’t that a sign of his mental state. “And my family and this one girl I used to know and just… everyone. I… I’m sorry, Time, I don’t mean to be putting this all on you.” Suddenly, Legend seemed to come back to himself, and a slight blushed tinged his cheeks. He swiped a hand up through his bangs and pushed himself to standing, averting his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Time, being tired just makes me blab. I think I’ll go back to bed, see if I can’t get another few hours.”

“Stay.” Time caught his elbow. “Just for a second, please.”

Legend allowed him to pull him back down to sitting, though he looked like he wanted to die about the whole thing. Time shifted on the log, gathering himself up with a steadying breath. Then he spoke.

“I do worry about Malon. And I worry about the farm, and Zelda, and all of Hyrule. Now I worry about all of you boys, too, that I’ve gotten to know each and every one of you.. I worry that something will happen while I’m gone, or I’ll die off in some corner of the timeline and she’ll never know, or that something will happen to one of you boys and I’ll be left to live with it. And I… the only way I’ve gotten through it is being able to talk to Malon,” Time confessed. “She’s my rock, fiery woman that she is.”

Legend took this all in silently. Time rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling awkward all of the sudden.

“Do… do you think that you’d be able to talk about any of it, Leg’?” he ventured. “I’m not one to press about secrets, but something’s clearly bothering you. Maybe if you got some of that off of your chest, you’d be able to sleep?”

Time braced for some acidic retort when Legend opened his mouth, an apology for overstepping already sitting on the tip of his tongue. Instead, the kid let out a choked little sob, and it all came tumbling out. Another surprising show of trust, another surprise that shouldn’t quite have been one. Out came disjointed tales of a fish, and a dream, and sitting with his uncle in the tunnels underneath his castle. Tales of how, every time he tried to help people—every time he even got close to them—he somehow made everything worse, and death followed after. Time didn’t have any advice for him, but he listened, and eventually, Legend had worn himself out enough that he managed to doze off in his lap.

Morning found them in the same position. Time stared at the sun as it began to rise in the eastern portion of the sky, and he begged it to rise a little slower, so that the vet could get just a few more precious minutes before it woke him and reset this awful cycle.

But Hylia had never been very kind to her heroes. And the sun rose, Legend awoke, and another restless day started.

#febuwhumpday8 #febuwhump day 8 #febuwhump2024 #linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #cheetowrites #whump #legend linked universe #lu legend #time linked universe #time lu #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fanfiction #sorry this wasn't technically late because I posted it on ao3 #but I was too tired to post it here

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adrift-in-thyme · 9 months ago

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Febuwhump Day 8: "Why won't it stop?" (Wild)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury, vomiting, and a character acting possessive

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

Wild is pretty sure the ground isn’t supposed to move beneath your feet. Well, maybe it should have the illusion of movement. But to actually blur and dip and streak backward as though it actively has it out for him…that’s something he doesn’t have much experience with.

Except for those times when he’d suffered such severe blood loss he had passed out on the side of the road. Yeah…except for those times.

He’s…mostly sure that blood loss isn’t the culprit this time. Mostly. Okay, fine, he’s pretty sure.

To be honest, he hardly remembers how he got into this situation in the first place. Walking and walking down an eternal maze of twisting hallways, under an expanse of thick darkness, punctuated solely by a stray lantern here and there.

The ropes constricting his wrists burn. The delicate skin there is all but rubbed away at this point, and the area is raw and bloodied. His feet falter, catching on the sweeping woven threads bound tightly about his ankles.

Around him, monsters cluster, chattering away. Their voices collide with his skull like thunderclaps shaking the ground. Incoherent, yet oh so painful.

He winces as a stray piece of stone nearly trips him up. It sends pain shooting through his body. A shudder follows in its aftermath, followed by another and another. They assault him like pelting raindrops, making his aching bones scream and his muscles turn to stone.

His teeth have begun chattering now, he realizes, only after he succeeds in nearly biting off his own tongue.

Wild lifts his hands, trying dazedly to wrap his arms around himself. But they fall back to rest upon his stomach, leaden and useless.

How much longer? He wonders, with the clouded despair of someone who knows there will be no answer to their question. How much farther will he have to walk before they reach their destination?

What they’ll do to him there is another unpleasant mystery, one he doesn’t really care to puzzle out. Beat him up, more than likely. Or maybe eat him.

Wild frowns and his eyes tear up.

Do these sorts of monsters even eat people? Kill them in horrible, agonizing ways, sure. But eat them? He isn’t so certain. He’ll have to test that at some point.

Something sharp and hard connects with the backs of his knees and he jolts out of his feverish thoughts. He trips, tries to catch himself, and hits the hard stone floor. His chin connects with it and the taste of iron explodes in his mouth.

The pounding in his head picks up until his entire body is screaming with it. His vision goes a striking shade of star-speckled white, then crackling gray. A squealing whine fills his ears, set against a backdrop of static. Distantly, he registers himself gagging.

His captors hardly allow him time to collect himself before they drag him back to his feet. He sways and stumbles in their grip. Pain buffets him in the place of the wind that fails to blow. Cold bites at his insides, freezing muscle and bone.

Wild coughs. A splatter of crimson brightens his gray vision. He stares down at it, uncomprehending. Until, failing limbs finally give way and then he is lying in it, though he can’t remember how he got there. Eagerly, his tunic soaks it up, turning wet and clammy beneath his blood and sweat.

He shudders, curling in on himself. Feet and fists rain down upon him. The telltale grunts and squeals of his assailants seem so far away. Much farther than the shards of agony that puncture through his flesh.

“Stop,” he croaks, “p-please…”

They don’t listen to his plea. Claws fist in his hair and drag him up by it. Wild chokes on a cry, fumbling desperately to get his feet under him. But no sooner has he managed it than he collapses again, gritting his teeth against a scream.

Everything hurts.

“Stop,” he begs again, voice catching in his throat. “L-let me go.”

He wishes this were all just another dream. Then, at least, he could awaken, safe in his brothers’ company, warm and content in Twilight’s embrace.

But the pain, the panic as the monsters grab hold of his bindings and drag his arms up over his head — it is all so very real.

The beasts begin to pull him along, oblivious to the way his body scrapes against the worn ground. Every bump and jagged edge shreds his clothes and skin alike, drawing blood and sowing fire.

He thinks that he tries to get up. He might scream too, as incessant, endless pain overtakes any other thought. Or perhaps, he is too weak for either action. Perhaps, he is already losing himself to the darkness.

Either way, when it comes, roaring in his ears and in his mind, he doesn’t try to fight it. And when it overtakes him, all he feels is relief.

….

He awakens to the sound of voices. Or rather, one voice, sneering and sharp.

“I gave you the task of providing me with a living hero. A living one!”

Heels beat harshly upon the floor. Wild bites back a wince.

Would it kill them to be quiet?

But then fingers fist in his hair, yanking on his scalp as they hold him aloft, and he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have complained. The pain the noise had caused was nothing compared to this.

A feeble, wheezed groan splits his broken lips. His eyelids flutter, the need to see what is happening around him struggling against the near-irresistible draw of unconscious oblivion. The only thing he can make out, however, are the beady eyes of monsters. They flicker fearfully between him and the person holding him up like a piece of meat at the market.

“This hero,” the voice continues, hissing like an angry lizalfos, “is hardly even breathing! The venom in his veins runs so thick his blood is green with it. How can I draw the life force from something speckled with wounds and drowning in bestial poison?”

The claws release him and Wild collapses back to the ground with a low whine. Through barely-open slits, he can make out the blurry outline of a gaudy high-heeled boot.

“I need power! I need magic!” Every word is punctuated by a step and every step by an explosion of violet-red magic. “I need him! And I cannot get him if I am still in this paltry state! If that cursed Shadow had only granted me my full power instead of hoarding it for himself. And all so he could murder those precious heroes of his.”

The figure stills, suddenly, and turns back to him. At this distance, Wild can finally get a clearer view of them. White hair cut short, clothes that leave very little to the imagination, violet eyes and tanned skin, crackling power, and crimson markings.

A frown dips his brows. He has never seen this woman before and yet, he has the faintest remembrance of a mention of her.

The captain, sitting beside the fire, easy laughter spilling from his mouth as he drapes an arm over Wind.

“I never mentioned who started the war? Oh, that was Cia. Yeah, she was a sight, let me tell you.”

More laughter, but not quite as easy this time.

“Why she attacked us? Well, she craved the same thing that they all do. Power.” The ghost of something dark and haunted speeds across his face like a breeze across Hyrule’s plains.

“...Control over things that weren’t meant to be hers.”

“Cia,” he chokes.

She quirks one perfectly manicured eyebrow. “You know who I am? Link has spoken of me, then.” She stalks toward him, a ravenous grin splitting blood-red lips. “How he must miss me. How he must crave my presence by his side.”

Wild feels bile rise in his throat, and for once it has nothing to do with the wounds competing to do him in.

“He doesn’t want an-anything like that,” he spits. The words burn his throat like molten lava, but stubbornly, he pushes on. “He doesn’t miss you at all. The only time…the only time he talked about you was to tell us you st-started a w-war.”

Cia’s expression darkens. She lowers herself down before him. Skewering his chin with one talon-like nail, she forces his head up. For a moment, she remains there, motionless, eyes searing into his skull. He meets her gaze with as fierce of a glare as he can manage.

(Which, given his condition, is likely more like a miserable pout than anything else. But Wild decides to go with it. For Warriors’ sake.)

Then, right when he has begun to wonder if maybe she has decided to engage him in an excruciating staring contest, a slow smirk spreads across her face. She pulls back, dragging her nail against his skin as she does so.

“On second thought, I believe this hero will do nicely. He has life force left in him, yet.”

Wild hardly has time to comprehend her words. Turning away, Cia flicks a finger.

And darkness swallows everything.

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 8 #blood tw #injury tw #vomiting tw #possessive behavior #linked universe #lu wild #linkeduniverse fic #whump #angst #loz cia #trin writes #to be continued…#I’ve got so many continuations planned at this point XD #also #please bear with my inferior editing skills #I’m so tired I almost didn’t post today

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em-writes-stuff · 9 months ago

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"Why won't it stop"

day 8 of @febuwhump

whumpee, caretaker

766 words

warnings: past abuse discussed, cursing, insomnia, nightmares

Caretaker closes Whumpee’s door, making sure to stay quiet as they turn the knob so he stays asleep. They sigh in relief after a few moments of standing still, their ear close to the door. They walk down the hallway and collapse on the sofa, barely able to remember to plug their phone in before falling asleep.

Whumpee wakes with a start, he pushes himself up with his elbows and frantically looks around the room.

The nightmare that woke him is quickly disappearing from his memory and all that remains are the phantom hands tracing over his skin. Through his hair, over his chest, his arms, nails digging into his legs. He pulls his blanket tighter around himself and taps rhythmically over his heart with his thumb.

Slowly, his heartbeat and breathing slows enough to the point where he can convince himself he’s safe. He takes inventory of the room.

A bed, with no one else on it. A small dresser with a few knicknacks displayed on top, all of them his. There’s a jacket wrapped on the back of a desk chair and the curtains are open, letting moonlight filter inside. A pile of his clothes are in the corner and there’s nothing else. He’s safe, alone, and able to relax a little.

Whumpee lays back down, pulling the blanket up to his chin and rolls onto his side and curling his legs up to his chest. He bites on his bottom lip to keep from sobbing and tears well in his eyes.

There’s a knock on his door and he shoots up, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Yes?”

“Hey, it’s Caretaker. Can I come in?” they ask softly.

Whumpee clears his throat and pulls the blanket over himself. “Yeah, sure.”

Caretaker slowly pushes the door open and smiles warmly. They walk into the room and sit on Whumpee’s chair.

“Did you sleep well?”

It’s a useless question, Caretaker knows it, Whumpee knows it, they both fucking know it. But they asked. Maybe he should tell the truth?

“As well as I can. Better than last night, I think.” he says, forcing a smile.

Caretaker tilts their head and bites their cheek, “I thought we agreed on no more lying.”

Whumpee looks at his hands and frowns. “I can handle it. You don’t need to know everything that happened to me.”

And Caretaker wants to believe him, they want to nod and accept him at his word. That he can handle what he’s dealing with alone. But they know him. And from the few things Whumper said before he was arrested…he can’t handle it alone.

Caretaker shakes their head and scoots closer to Whumpee, ignoring the way Whumpee leans back and pulls the blanket tighter around himself.

“You don’t have to tell me everything. Nothing you don’t want to talk about. But if you’re suffering now? I need to know so I can help. Please, just let me help you.” they say, voice breaking.

Whumpee stares at them, brows furrowed. He knows he should tell them about the nightmares. That they’re not just flashes of things that used to happen. That he can’t remember what they’re about for more than a few seconds. That even if he could remember, he definitely wouldn’t want to. But all that comes out of his mouth is, “Why won’t it stop?”

“What stop?” Caretaker asks.

Whumpee takes a shuddering breath and starts picking at the cuticle on his finger. “Everything.” he looks up and Caretaker’s inching closer to him, an infinitely worried expression on their face. “Not like that. I don’t want to- It’s just. I don’t get any sleep because every time I lay still enough, I can feel Whumper’s hands on me. They’re not…it’s always gentle. And Whumper was never gentle. But I know that…I know it’s them. I just know it’s them and I don’t know how I know because-”

He stops and looks at Caretaker and takes a deep breath. Caretaker’s cheeks have tear tracks running down them. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I’ve been here a week. Before that, there were two places that threw me out as soon as they realized they couldn’t ‘fix’ me with a few days of hard work. I didn’t want to risk it.”

Caretaker leans forward and this time, Whumpee makes an effort not to move. They hold their arms out and Whumpee nods.

He doesn’t hug them back, but for the first time in a very long time, he can feel the warmth of someone else and he doesn’t want to run off.

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday8 #why won't it stop #whumpee #whump #caretaker #nightmare whump #em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #whump fic #whump writing

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popcorn-plots · 9 months ago

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Febuwhump day 6: "You lied to me."

Title: The Cost of Broken Vows

Words: 500

Summary: Tony confronts Stephen about a choice he made. A choice that ruined both their lives.

Honestly, this is probably my favorite of the longer fics. All the drabbles have a special place in my heart (especially days 8, 10, and 11, ghsahgjk knife to the gut) but this one is the favorite child above 100 words.

~~~

“You…. you motherfucking liar.” Was the first thing Tony Stark said when he regained consciousness after the battle with Thanos. “You lied to me.” His voice broke. Stephen watched his hands shake and said nothing.

“I bonded with the stones, Strange,” Ah, they were back to last names. All that progress lost, just because Stephen was selfish. “They showed me.”

Stephen didn’t need to know what they showed Tony to understand. He remembered it all too well himself.

“They showed me a universe where..” Tears slipped down his cheeks, gathering in his goatee, reflecting the soft sunlight filtering through the window.

Tony took a shuddering breath. His voice was quiet, small, but filled with so much grief and anger. Maybe some disgust, hatred, at himself and Stephen. “There was another way, Strange. One where Pe- where my ki– where Spider-Man didn’t die.”

Stephen couldn't bear to look up, to meet the broken eyes of the man he loved. The man he saved, at the cost of his pseudo son. Stephen didn’t say anything. He didn’t deserve to defend himself, both he and Tony knew just how selfish it all was.

They had won, yes, but at what cost? Peter was the only casualty, yet Stephen felt like his world was gone.

Peter dead, the man in front of him could never forgive him. Never love him again. Not after what he did.

Stephen felt his own tears slip down his face. He looked up, catching a glimpse of Tony’s cold brown eyes, filled with pain.

“I-” Stephen tried to say. Tried to apologize, tried to make things right. Nothing came out.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could muster after what felt like hours of heavy silence.

He expected Tony to yell at him, to hit him, to make him pay for his selfishness, but the older man did nothing. He simply turned to the window, watching two birds making a nest in the blooming apple tree.

“Close the door when you leave. Please.”

His voice was hollow. Devoid of any emotions, robotic and cold. Stephen hated it. He hated how the silence seemed to hurt more than any physical injury could.

Stephen thought it best not to say anything as he stood up and walked to the door, his head down. He looked back when he reached the door, hand on the doorframe. Tony was staring out of the window, his eyes glazed over. An assortment of ‘get well’ balloons and cards attached to dying bouquets sat ignored on the side table.

Stephen allowed himself to linger for just a moment before he left for good. The unspoken ‘I love you’ tightened around Stephen’s throat until he couldn’t breathe, but he knew that he deserved the pain, the agony. It was nothing compared to Tony’s loss, he knew. Nothing could equal Tony’s grief, and nothing could make it right. The door closing behind him felt like the final goodbye as Stephen walked away, hiding his tears behind a shaking hand.

Ao3

#stephen strange #doctor stephen strange #tony stark #iron man #ironstrange #but one-sided #angst #whump #febuwhump day 6 #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #sorry not sorry #character death #mentioned peter parker

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alexinchainsfest · 9 months ago

Text

Well, that was fun! At least it was for me, I hope you guys enjoyed it too, biggest thanks to everyone who participated ♥

13 works were added to the collection over the month, so here is a recap!

Sweet Amnesia by Myulalie for @rirren [E, 4 374 words]

Ian disappears, and Alex gets into his head to hire “Ian’s old army buddy” to rescue his uncle. Yassen Gregorovich comes with a price.

Adjournment by iceblyecyanide for @strangesoulmates [T, 5 399 words]

“Did no one ever tell you that it’s impolite to enter someone’s room without invitation, Alex Rider?” Chess prodigy Alex Rider is attending the 1981 Moscow Invitational when a moment of curiosity leads him into trouble, and lands him an impromptu rematch with the World Champion, Soviet Grandmaster Yassen Gregorovich.

The Boy in the Ice by Myulalie for @lastlymatt [T, 3 932 words]

Project IceX takes Yassen to a lab in Siberia in order to relive a miraculously preserved humanoid, seemingly older than humanity itself.

I don't want to lose you again by turtle_snail for @shehungthemoon [T, 7 461 words]

Alex gets a phone call from the hospital saying that his uncle was in a bad accident. Except, Ian Rider died four years ago…

A Surprising Holiday by TheOtherBlue for @myulalie [E, 3 487 words]

Alex runs into Yassen while on holiday in Greece and sees a chance to flip the script of their encounters. Yassen isn't entirely convinced, but is willing to play along.

The Monster in the Cellar by Too_Many_Rooks for @icebluecyanide [Not Rated, 5 104 words]

'Perhaps he’d lied to himself as much as he’d lied to MI6. Every report they’d demanded had read the same; his nephew was normal, and safe, and happy, and they couldn’t have him. Ian was his parent in every way that mattered, not a prison warden for the thing that might lurk inside him. No one would take his kid away from him. But the snarling, blood-stained, monster, barely conscious with all his hate and his hunger that was chained up in their basement didn’t much resemble the sweet little boy who’d run to greet him at the door when he returned from long overseas missions, or the child who’d stare with wide-eyed joy and fascination as Ian showed him the world, nor even the stroppy tween who liked to complain about how boring and embarrassing his guardian was.' Ian is forced to enact a plan he'd been desperate to avoid when he returns home one day to find his nephew... changed.

Lot 14 by Rirren for @lastlymatt [E, 2 509 words]

Blind and deaf, Alex Rider is helpless as he is auctioned off.

Pinewood by turtle_snail [T, 5 166 words]

Alex and Freddy are captured by nightshade, the situation is starting to seem dire and maybe Alex can’t sass his way out of this one.

A different kind of sacrifice by limnal for @strangesoulmates [E, 4 346 words]

Alex, a young Celt, has been chosen to be handfasted with Yassen, a druid known for his love of blood magic and human sacrifice. There are expectations to fulfill this night.

A Winter Offering by LastlyMatt for @myulalie [E, 4 561 words]

In order for the village to make it through winter, Alex has been chosen as a sacrifice for the spirit of the woods.

Salt Water by Myulalie for @shehungthemoon [E, 4 618 words]

Five times Alex forces Yassen’s hand (and gets away with it).

Disciplinary Action by icebluecyanide for @lastlymatt [M, 4 475 words]

General Alexei Sarov makes good on his promise to have Alex whipped. "There will be no more outbursts," Sarov told him, his tone brooking no disobedience. "You will be quiet, and you will watch. And when Juan's punishment is over, you will take his place." Written for FebuWhump Day 24: "I'm doing this because I care about you" and the Alex in Chains prompt "Alex tied up in front of an audience".

The Mystery Suitor by turtle_snail for @myulalie [M, 8 311 words]

“I’ll think this is an amazing deal. It will bring prosperity to both our kingdoms. I think Prince Alex can agree.” He heard Ian say. Alex's curiosity doubled. He caught his name being included in some deal Ian was making on his behalf. “What was that about?” Alex demanded, not hiding the fact that he was eavesdropping seconds before. “You have a suitor.” Ian said, "I just got a marriage proposal.”

What a way to start the year! Thank you to all the participants, once again, and happy reading to anyone catching up now ♥

Feel free to keep browsing through the wishlists and gift something to someone even if the event is over, I'll be happy to reblog it here if you do!

#alex rider #fanfiction #ao3 #alexinchains #fandom event #anthony horowitz #yassen gregorovich #tom harris #ian rider #alexei sarov #frederick grey

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kybercrystals94 · 9 months ago

Text

I can’t believe February is already over! I had so much fun with this prompt challenge, and I am thrilled to be a completionist!

Congrats to my writing buddy @just-here-with-my-thoughts for also completing all 29 prompts this month! And many thank yous for proofreading some of my fics all the way back in January!

And special thanks to @the-little-moment for your notes of encouragement and check ins! THANK YOU!!

But really, this entire fandom’s community is amazing, both here on Tumblr and over on Ao3! I’ve written for many fandoms over the years, but this is by far the most supportive community I’ve had the privilege of being a part of!

Thank you for all the likes, comments, reblogs, kudos, and bookmarks! Y’all, my little writer’s heart runneth over!

🥹❤️❣️💕

Febuwhump Master List

Ao3 Febuwhump Master List

Day 1 | Prompt 1: Helpless

But She Still Cries

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 350

Excerpt: “My heart hurts,” Omega whispers, voice shaky. Crosshair recognizes the affliction with excruciating clarity, the tight fist of loss and regret.

[Character Focus: Omega, Crosshair]

[Tags: hurt no comfort]

Day 2 | Prompt 2: Solitary Confinement

Roaring Silence

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 180

Excerpt: “I don’t like this test,” Omega says quietly, stopping short of the door, resisting the hand that presses against her back between her shoulder blades.

[Character Focus: Omega]

[Tags: human experimentation, childhood trauma]

Day 3 | Prompt 3: “Bite down on this.” & Day 12 | Prompt 12: Semi-Conscious

Grounded

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr: Part 1 - Part 2)

Rated: T | Words: 1736

Excerpt: Blinding pain greets Crosshair’s return to consciousness, and a sharp gasp ejects from his lungs. A hand clasps hard over his mouth…

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter]

[Tags: broken limb, injury]

Day 4 | Prompt 4: Obedience

Up to Something

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1069

Excerpt: “Hunter always sides with you,” Wrecker grumbles. / Tech rolls his eyes, but plays into the argument. “Not true, but he usually sides with reason, which is more commonly provided by myself.”

[Character Focus: Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Hunter]

[Tags: concussion, slight whump, humor]

Day 5 | Prompt 5: Rope Burns

Absolute Privilege

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1091

Excerpt: Omega leans over the cliff, staring into the dark, gaping mouth of the container yawning up at her. She can do this. She has to do this.

[Character Focus: Omega, Tech]

[Tags: sibling relationships, soft Tech, injury]

Day 6 | Prompt 6: “You lied to me.”

Die for a Corpse

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 960

Excerpt: In his arms, the other clone choked for breath, a blaster hole through his chestplate. He didn’t have long. That much Tech gathered as he approached the pair.

[Character Focus: Tech, OC]

[Tags: descriptions of death, hurt no comfort]

Day 7 | Prompt 7: Suffering in Silence

Poisoned

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 328

Excerpt: When Wrecker was too loud in a small space; when Tech couldn’t seem to run out of words to say about an impossibly dull topic; when Hunter lectured them about picking fights with the regs. Crosshair longed for silence in those moments.

[Character Focus: Crosshair]

[Tags: emotional whump, regrets]

Day 8 | Prompt 8: “Why won’t it stop?”

They All Fall Down

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1572

Excerpt: “Hunter,” Wrecker whines, drawing out the last syllable of Hunter’s name to a ridiculous length. “Crosshair won’t stop staring at me.”

[Character Focus: Cadet Batch]

[Tags: humor, sibling relationships, a dash of whump]

Day 9 | Prompt 9: Bees

Hide and Seek and Training

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 2496

Excerpt: Slowly, Omega looks back at where the branch she sits on meets the tree. Tucked into the crook, a muddy looking structure is swarming with the colorful insects. Bees, Omega’s memory supplies frantically.

[Character Focus: Omega, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo]

[Tags: bee stings, slight injuries, sibling relationships, whump and fluff, humor]

Day 10 | Prompt 10: Killing in Self Defense

Flame Snuffed Out

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 457

Excerpt: Wrecker had to grab Tech’s shoulder, give him a shove to get him moving again. Wrecker must’ve told Hunter that. He shouldn’t have hesitated…Death should not influence him. Not him.

[Character Focus: Tech, Hunter]

[Tags: descriptions of death, trauma]

Day 11 | Alternate Prompt 4: Human Weapon

Costly Mistakes

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 542

Excerpt: “How’d you get out here without the others following you?” Hunter asks. / “I didn’t,” Crosshair responds. “But I told them if they didn’t go back to the barracks, I’d make their lives a living hell.” / “And they believed you?” / “Wrecker did. Tech took a hint.”

[Character Focus: Hunter, Crosshair]

[Tags: Cadet Batch, sibling relationships]

Day 12 | Prompt 12: Semi-Conscious

*See Day 3*

Day 13 | Prompt 13: “You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

Exploration

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1781

Summary: An afternoon of exploring takes a slight turn.

[Character Focus: Hunter, Omega, Tech, Wrecker, Echo]

[Tags: minor injury, a touch of whump, fluff, humor]

Day 14 | Prompt 14: “I love you.”

I Love You

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 781

Excerpt: She replayed the words over and over again in her mind, rolling the syllables silently over her tongue. Of course, she knew her brothers loved her, and she loved them. They just never said it. In fact, Omega didn’t think she had ever heard that combination of words in that order out loud in her entire life.

[Character Focus: Omega, Hunter]

[Tags: fluff and emotional whump, sibling relationships]

Day 15 | Prompt 15: “Who did this to you?”

Left Handed

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Word Count: 574

Excerpt: Omega drapes herself further over the back of the seat, arms dangling. “What happened? Were you in a fight?” / “Something like that,” Echo grumbles, avoiding eye contact.

[Character Focus: Echo, Omega, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker]

[Tags: humor, whump, sibling relationships]

Day 16 | Prompt 16: Came Back Wrong

Stay

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 741

Excerpt: Crosshair watches from his perch on a wall as the sun sinks into the sea, dissolving into swatches of reds, yellows, and oranges. Discolored by twilight, sky bleeds through with deep blues and purples. It is beautiful here. Peaceful. Quiet. Safe. He does not belong here.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Hunter]

[Tags: emotional whump]

Day 17 | Prompt 17: Hostage Situation

The Hostage

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr - Part 1)

Rated: T | Words: —

Summary: Omega is taken hostage.

[Character Focus: Omega, Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker]

[Tags: action, kidnapping]

Day 18 | Alternate Prompt 1: Human Shield

Shields

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 730

Excerpt: “Why can’t you keep your mouth shut once in a while?” Crosshair asked, shoving roughly into Tech as they went into their barracks.

[Character: Cadet Batch]

[Tags: sibling relationships, bullies]

Day 19 | Prompt 19: “Please don’t.”

“Please don’t.”

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 497

Excerpt: Crosshair has experienced headaches. More than his fair share with his optical enhancement. While they were never near as severe as Hunter’s over the years, he’d learned to take them in stride, work through the pain. But this time is different. It is insistent. A sharp, isolated pain that feels as though a blade is being driven through his skull. It’s putting him on edge. Well, this and Hunter.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Omega]

[Tags: chip activation, Order 66]

Day 20 | Prompt 20: Truth Serum

Embroidered Skulls

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1092

Summary: Exposure to truth serum uncovers some secrets.

[Characters: Tech, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker]

[Tags: humor, barely whump]

Day 21 | Prompt 21: Unresponsive

The Fact Remains

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 641

Summary: After Wrecker is injured on a mission, the brothers wait for him to wake up.

[Character Focus: Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker]

[Tags: guilt, sibling relationships]

Day 22 | Prompt 22: “You weren’t meant to be there.”

Impeccable Timing

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 563

Excerpt: The target in his sights moved the moment he pulled the trigger. Gone was the neck shot that would decapitate the battle droid and in its place was the familiar pale gray armor of his brother. There was nothing he could do but watch in horror as the bolt made contact.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Tech]

[Tags: friendly fire, injury]

Day 23 | Alternate Prompt 6: Immortality

Merriest Days Ahead

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr - Part 1)

Rated: G | Words: —

Summary: A month long holiday on Pabu prompts the Batch to wonder about the legacy they will leave behind.

[Character Focus: Omega, Tech, Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker]

[Tags: sibling relationships, fluff, emotional whump]

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

Belong

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 351

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

[Character Focus: Omega, Hunter]

[Tags: what-if, alternate ending, emotional whump]

Day 25 | Alternate Prompt 7: Last Words

Last Words

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: T | Words: 392

Excerpt: Famous last words they say, because, in reality, most last words are not spectacular or special. They aren’t deep or poetic, they don’t inspire greatness or alter the course of history. Often, they are pathetic and small, underrated and thoughtless. Because, often, you didn’t know they would be the last words you ever would speak. Even as you lay dying, you cling to that threadbare hope that you might have a moment longer. But you don’t. You die. The words you said are the last, whether you meant them or not.

[Character Focus: Kix]

[Tags: what-if, alternate ending, descriptions of dying moments]

Day 26 | Prompt 26: “Help them.”

Brave

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 428

Excerpt: She tries. She tries so hard to keep the tears from falling, to keep her breath even. But another hiccuping sob makes her guardian cast her a disapproving glance.

[Character Focus: Omega]

[Tags: big sister, baby Batch, emotional whump]

Day 27 | Prompt 27: Left for Dead

Stories

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 1624

Excerpt: “Crosshair! We’ve been looking for you,” Omega announces, unabashedly intruding on Crosshair’s peace and quiet. / Crosshair cracks open one eye to glare at his sister looming over him. He had found a lush patch of grass under a tree about a five minute walk from their Pabu abode, hidden from the prying eyes of curious neighbors and meddling siblings. Well, evidently not hidden enough.

[Character Focus: Crosshair, Omega, Tech]

[Tags: sibling relationships, emotional whump/angst]

Day 28 | Prompt 28: No…Not like this.

Coded

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 289

Summary: Missing scene from Season 3 Episode 4

[Character Focus: Hunter, Wrecker]

[Tags: emotional whump]

Day 29 | Prompt 29: Not Allowed to Die

Sick Day

Star Wars: The Bad Batch

(Ao3) | (Tumblr)

Rated: G | Words: 516

Summary: Echo is sick with a fever.

[Character Focus: Echo]

[Tags: sick fic, hallucination, hurt no comfort]

#febuwhump 2024 completionist #febuwhump 2024 #Master List #star wars #the bad batch #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #the clone wars #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tcw kix

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