#febuwhump can’t stay awake

[whumpinthepot]

@febuwhump 2023

Day Eighteen: Can’t stay awake

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 18 - can’t stay awake

I’m like barely sticking to these prompts anymore but oh well I had a blast with this one hee hee

Some slight explanation might be required here: only a few of the Links are aware of First’s existence. Spirit is the only one who can see him without any sort of assistance, though a couple of the others have items that would work. Does that make sense? I shouldn’t be doing this half awake haha. If anyone’s confused feel free to ask what the heck I’m on about

Spirit is spirit tracks Link, and First is the hero from the manga in Hyrule Historia.

Courage of ages explanation

————————————————————

“F-First?”

“Yes little one?”

“I c-can’t f-f-feel m-my toes an-anym-more.”

First pursed his lip, drawing closer to where Spirit was plodding through the nearly waist-high snow, shivering uncontrollably.

“Can you move them at all?” he asked, and Spirit managed to nod. He let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Try to keep them moving. We must close to some sort of shelter, it can’t be long now.”

Spirit only nodded and kept walking.

First kept his eyes on him as they trudged across the snowfield, occasionally scanning for shelter, but his gaze always flicked back to the boy in front of him, ears red and lips blue. They must have been going for hours now through the snow, and the fact that Spirit was still moving at a fairly steady pace was surprising in and of itself.

First only prayed there was somewhere close for him to shelter.

And that he could make it.

Right as he had the thought he heard a small noise, and turned to see Spirit collapse, falling down into the snow and making no move to get up. First felt a thrill of fear jolt through him and he lunged for Spirit’s side, studying his face and any of the exposed skin that he could see.

“Spirit, you have to keep going, you can’t stop here,” he said frantically. “You’ll freeze.”

Spirit only shivered.

First hovered uselessly over the engineer, fear making itself a home in his chest. How on earth could he get Spirit moving again? He was a ghost, he had no way of helping the boy in front of him get up aside from encouraging words.

Never had he wished he could pick things up more than in this moment.

“Spirit— Link,” he said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice, “you must get up.”

“I-I c-can’t,” he chattered out in a whisper.

“Yes you can Link, you can do it,” he said firmly, meeting his eyes. “Just one foot in front of the other. I know for a fact you have been through worse than this. Keep going. Please.”

Spirit still didn’t move.

Then, frame shuddering as if it was going to fall apart, he put out a hand, pushing himself up to his elbows. Making an enormous effort, he then got to his knees, and eventually back to his feet, shivering so hard First was concerned he would fall over again.

“That’s it Link, come on, the others must be close,” he encouraged, and Spirit gave him the faintest hint of a smile before continuing to plod onwards through the whirling snow.

He only made it another few minutes before collapsing again.

“Spirit!”

First darted back to his side, and noticed his shivering had slowed, eyes half-lidded as he looked up at First.

“Spirit, please, get up,” First begged, crouching next to him and running a ghostly hand across his cheek. “You’ll freeze to death if you stay here.”

Spirit breathed out a quiet sigh, and closed his eyes, looking utterly spent.

“Link, please.”

“‘m s-sorry First,” Spirit said in a hoarse whisper, a tired but accepting look on his face. “Make s-sure... Zel...”

His voice died, and First glanced desperately around for some sort of shelter, a goal, something that could help him—

And his eyes alit on a pinprick of light, just barely visible from his vantage point.

He stared, squinting through the flakes still falling, and realized the light was coming from an opening in a hill nearby, in what must be a cave. Light meant warmth, and a cave meant shelter, and who else would be out in this storm other than their traveling companions?

“Link, the others must be near,” he said quickly, and Spirit’s eyes opened slightly. “I can see light, it must be them. It cannot be more than ten minutes away, all you have to do is make it there.”

Spirit only closed his eyes again.

“Link please,” First begged, but Spirit didn’t react aside from a small twitch.

First looked between him and the light in the distance, the decision he had to make warring inside of him. He could make it there and back in less than fifteen minutes if he hurried, with someone who could carry Spirit and truly help him, but could he just leave Spirit here alone while he retrieved help?

What if he froze while he was gone, not even granted the comfort of someone beside him?

First shook himself, banishing the dreary thoughts as he set his jaw. He had to leave.

There was no other way,

“Link, I’ll be right back,” he said firmly, brushing an unfeeling hand through the boy’s hair. “I’m getting help. Stay awake, okay? You need to promise me you’ll do everything you can to stay awake.”

“‘kay,” Spirit whispered.

“Promise me,” First stressed, and Spirit opened his eyes just a little, meeting his gaze.

“‘Promise.”

First gave him one last smile, trying to ignore how blue the younger hero’s lips were, then stood and took off towards the light in the distance.

He was confident he could find his way back; the light was a straight shot from where he was, and the distance truly wasn’t very long. And if for some reason he had trouble, he was sure the others had lanterns they could use and would easily be able to locate Spirit.

So long as I’m not too late.

He sped his steps, and soon came into clear view of the cave, noting the line of tracks that led inside, stretching away in the opposite direction from where he and Spirit had been walking. He skidded inside, and relief sank into him at the sight of the twelve other heroes all crammed around a fire.

He was right. He’d found the others.

“Thank you Hylia,” he breathed, and stepped forward.

It looked like he’d arrived just in time to hear a frantic discussion of what to do about their missing member, several of them wanting to go out into the storm to look for Spirit, several of the others telling them they’d just get lost and freeze, words growing heated with anger and worry.

First frowned at their directionless squabbling, and stepped forwards into the light.

“I know where he is, we need to act quickly!” he shouted over the ruckus. “Stop this argument!”

None of the Links heard him.

First frowned, but then he froze, and was sure he felt the blood drain from his face as the realization suddenly hit him. How could he have forgotten?

He was a ghost.

Nobody could see him except for Spirit.

“No no no, listen to me, I know where Spirit lies!” he shouted again, standing right in the middle of the group. “He’s freezing out there, if we don’t retrieve him soon he’ll die!”

None of them turned around, focused completely on the discussion at hand.

“LISTEN TO ME!” he roared, but the other Links continued to sit and discuss what they were going to do, having no clue that he was even present.

First clenched his fists and spent several more minutes trying fruitless attempts to alert the others, everything he could think of, but nothing worked. He clutched at his hair, mind racing. He’d already been gone for far too long. Spirit needed help now, and even though help was so close he had no way to communicate a way for him to get it.

First was on the verge of despair and about to leave and try to help Spirit again by himself when Gloam suddenly stood up, catching everyone’s attention.

“Look, I’ll just sniff him out. Even in this weather as long as there’s a scent I should be able to find it.”

First perked up and darted to Gloam’s side as he explained, citing his ability to find his way back, and thick pelt that would keep him warm, the other Links reluctantly warming up to the idea.

“I don’t like the idea of you going out there alone, but you’re right,” Hibiscus said quietly, a worried pinch to his brow.

“It does make the most sense,” Cloud agreed, though he looked even more reluctant. “I’ve seen you sniff out all sorts of stuff.”

“Come on, please just change...” First begged as the Links all slowly agreed. Being away from Spirit was torture, but this was his best chance now. Gloam’s wolf form was able to see spirits, and First was no exception. He would easily be able to lead the Hero of Twilight to where Spirit had collapsed.

We’re running out of time!

“Not by yourself,” Era interjected, mouth set in a frown. “Take someone with you, I don’t like you going out there alone.”

“I’ll come, I’ve got cold gear!” Slate quickly cut in, but Gloam shook his head.

“Anyone else will only slow me down,” he retorted, arms crossed. “And half of y’all are already on the verge of being frozen stiff, the less of us that are out in this storm the better. I’ll be quick, and if I can’t find him after an hour I’ll come back and we can rethink this then.”

First watched Era sigh, and look around the cave. Gloam was right: more than a few of the Links weren’t dressed for the weather and looked miserably cold, even huddled around the fire as they were.

“I can cover the most ground Era, you know that. I have the best chance of finding him,” Gloam said quietly.

“Just let him go already, Spirit could be in big trouble!” Windy said through chattering teeth, worry thick in his voice. First silently cheered him. At least someone realizes how urgent this is!

Era closed his eyes, and finally nodded.

“Fine. One hour. And not a minute longer, unless you find a sign that Spirit is close,” he said firmly, and Gloam nodded. “Then we reevaluate. And if you think you’re getting too cold, come back sooner. The last thing we need is two people frozen out there.”

Gloam nodded, and finally changed into a wolf, First nearly collapsing with relief as the now-lupine hero closed his eyes to switch to his enhanced Senses. He moved in front of the wolf, and when Gloam opened his eyes, he startled at the sight of First standing in his face, looking downright frantic with worry.

“I know where he is, you need to come with me now,” he blurted out, and Gloam barked and immediately charged out of the cave and back into the whirling snow.

First stayed in front of him, going as fast as he could manage, Gloam running through the snow behind him. The storm seemed to have gotten worse, flakes of ice blowing whipping past, and though First couldn’t feel it, he was sure it was colder than before.

What felt like forever went by, though it couldn’t have been long when First finally caught sight of Spirit again. He felt his heart skip a beat at how still he was now, no longer shivering at all. Just lying there, half-covered by the snow.

“Spirit you promised you’d try,” he choked out, frantically going to his side and studying his face.

Spirit didn’t move.

Gloam skidded to a halt directly after him and changed back to a hylian at the same time, dropping to Spirit’s side with a sharp intake of breath.

“Light spirits, kid,” he gasped, pulling the engineer into his lap. He immediately bundled him into a tight hold, listening to his heart and studying his fingers and other extremities. “Spirit, hey, can you hear me?”

The engineer didn’t react at all.

Gloam sucked in a breath and lifted Spirit into his arms, tucking him as warmly into his hold as he could. His head lolled against Gloam’s shoulder, and First felt fear roll through him, sharper than anything he’d experienced in a long time.

Hylia please.

“I can’t do much for him out here, we’ll have to get him back and warmed up,” Gloam said quickly, getting back to his feet. “Hib’ll know what to do. He... he will.”

Gloam began to quickly trudge back to the cave, First staying as close beside him as he could as they traveled through the storm.

“I’m so sorry First, I should’ve checked if you were around sooner,” Gloam said suddenly as they went. His voice was thick with shame, and First startled at it. “I should’ve known to ask you first, you’re always around Spirit, but the thought didn’t even cross my mind and now...”

He shook his head, looking miserable.

First closed his eyes and remained silent, feeling heavy as he drifted behind. Gloam wouldn’t have been able to hear his reply, but he appreciated the apology.

But the bitter feel of being forgotten, treated as one who wasn’t truly part of the group left a heavy weight in his chest, along with the worry still there for Spirit.

Not that he had any right to feel this way. It had been his decision to keep his existence a secret from everyone except a select few, despite Spirit’s insistence that the others would gladly know him. He’d been content with his anonymity in the group, and fearful of the reactions of the others were he revealed, but all it had led to was Spirit nearly being frozen solid.

Perhaps none of this would’ve happened if I wasn’t such a coward.

He swallowed as Gloam finally reached the cave and began shouting for assistance, the other Links looking surprised at his quick return. They quickly broke into frantic cries once they noticed Spirit though, and the cave turned into a flurry of activity that First couldn’t help with at all.

“I’m sorry little one,” he whispered, looking down at where Spirit still lay cradled in Gloam’s arms.

Spirit still didn’t move.

“I’m so sorry.”

[exquisiteagony]

blooddrunk au!

[whumpacabra]

Day 18 - Can’t Stay Awake

Blood loss, exhaustion, stabbed, knife wound, firearm mention, loss of consciousness

[Follows Not Betrayal]

Mistakes were made. They were self aware enough to acknowledge that - the blood gushing from their shoulder was proof enough. They knew better than to pull the knife out without immediate medical care available - why had they done that? Ghost trained them better than that.

They needed to call Ghost.

RJ gritted their teeth and fished their phone from their pocket, every movement sparking a fresh flush of blood and pain. He was going to be pissed.

“What’s wrong?” He always assumed something had gone wrong. This time he assumed correctly.

“I need a pickup.” They knew he could hear the tremor in their voice. They knew he wouldn’t mention it.

“Damnit kid - you know I’m at least an hour out. More given traffic this time of day.” The muffled sound of a car engine turning over thrummed through the static. “What the hell happend?”

“I’m sorry.” Their voice cracked, and they weren’t sure what they were sorry for. The blood had soaked down their sleeve and was pooled on the ground beside them. They didn’t remember sitting down. “I shouldn’t have - I knew better. You taught me better and - I’m sorry.”

“Calm down.” It was an order, but there was a softness to his voice. “Are you in danger right now?”

“No.” Their voice was small, breathing hitched. Panic and adrenaline were numbing the exposed bone and red flesh of their shoulder.

“Are you injured?”

“Yes.” Their breathing shuddered, a self loathing anger bubbling in their chest. They knew better - they were so stupid for even - they were an idiot -

“Count.” His voice was an anchor, steady and unconcerned with their inner turmoil. Count. They could do that.

It was a well worn exercise they had learned from him when they were small. Well, smaller.

One door, lock broken and handle snapped. Two bodies, still twitching in their death throes. Three guns, three shells. Four knives slick with fresh blood (five including their own, dry and clean). Six…

“Where are you, exactly?”

They were calm enough to answer.

“First floor office. Yellow shudders.” They shivered, unsure why they were cold. It felt like live embers were smoldering in their wound, blood still flowing like molten magma.

“Are you losing blood?”

“Yes.”

“Tourniquet?”

“No.”

“Fuck…” They winced at his grumble. “Nothing vital? Head injury?”

“No. And no.” Their body was beginning to feel far away, hands numb. They managed to fumble the phone to speaker before dropping it to the floor. The blood was soaking down their side now, sticky and warm.

“Keep talking to me kid. You need to stay awake.”

“Hm.” They hummed, breathing deeply and fighting a yawn. “How far are you?”

“Still half an hour, maybe less.” Ghost’s voice was tinged with whining static. “Shit - I’m losing signal - RJ, stay awake. Do not fall asleep. That’s an order. I’ll call again when I’m closer if I get - “

The call ended, garbled and choppy.

Stay. Asleep. Order. Call again. RJ’s blood starved brain struggled to make sense of the words. They were so tired, eyelids drawn together by the tears obscuring their vision.

The time between blinking was getting longer. They weren’t so cold anymore. Just a little nap…

They tossed their head back against the wall with a crack, eyes flying open. Ghost gave them an order. They were supposed to follow orders.

But the world was so warm and soft and…

RJ lifted their left hand, fingers shaking as they probed at their wounded shoulder. Sparks dazzled behind their eyelids, pain like a flare pressed to bare flesh as they dug their nails in with a scream. They needed to stay awake. Just a little bit longer. Just a few more minutes. Just until - just until…

Oh fuck they were so damn tired…

Their phone buzzed, a call from Ghost incoming. It sent vibrations through the puddle of blood it sat in, but RJ made no move to answer it.

They were asleep.

[Directly before Pick Up]

(Part of my Freelancers: Changing Tides series)

[febuwhump]

FEBUWHUMP 2023 IS HERE!

the prompts this year were chosen through a suggestion poll and subsequent vote, where over 350 people voted for their favourites. the top 28 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular and this blog’s personal favourites have become the alternatives!

i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, make sure to check out the blog’s FAQ, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog before sending one of your own!

please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2023 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: touchstarved

DAY 2: flinching

DAY 3: muzzled

DAY 4: knife to the throat

DAY 5: "that's gonna scar"

DAY 6: secrets revealed

DAY 7: made to watch

DAY 8: panic

DAY 9: voice loss

DAY 10: difficulty breathing

DAY 11: fever

DAY 12: "can you hear me?"

DAY 13: forced to hurt a loved one

DAY 14: captivity

DAY 15: self-sacrifice

DAY 16: semi-conscious

DAY 17: silent tears

DAY 18: can't stay awake

DAY 19: "you deserve this"

DAY 20: knife wound

DAY 21: shackled

DAY 22: can't scream

DAY 23: "you'll have to go through me"

DAY 24: bloody clothes

DAY 25: assumed dead

DAY 26: forced to choose

DAY 27: survivor's guilt

DAY 28: "you're safe now"

SWITCH-OUT PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: rope burns

ALT 2: caged

ALT 3: soft words

ALT 4: experimentation

ALT 5: time loop

ALT 6: limp

ALT 7: immortality

ALT 8: found footage

ALT 9: natural disaster

ALT 10: inferno

RULES:

SOFT RULES:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce whatever kind of media they want

you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to

you can use the prompts after the event ends

you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days

HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2023)

the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…

nsfw (if relevant)

and any trigger warnings that may be important!

you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump

i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Febuwhump Day 6: "You lied to me"

Content warning: hospital whump, (arguably) bad caretaker

“You lied to me.” 

Those were the words Caretaker was greeted with when they entered Whumpee’s hospital room. They looked small and sickly in their bed, medical equipment seeming to engulf their thin frame. A sickly blush covered their face, looking almost like a rash on irritated skin. Their eyes were still glassy, but far more alert than when Caretaker had last seen them. 

Caretaker hadn’t expected them to be awake yet. Let alone sitting upright in bed. Let alone glaring at Caretaker with so much venom that they nearly took a step back in shock.

:”Baby, what–”

“You said you’d never force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. You lied.”

“I–,” the denial died in Caretaker’s throat before it formed. Whumpee was right, technically. Caretaker had known they would refuse to go to the doctor. The only reason they’d gone before was because they’d been unconscious, and even then they’d demanded to be released as soon as possible. They would never willingly decide to go to the hospital.

Caretaker knew all that. And so when Whumpee, already struggling to recover from what they’d endured under Whumper, had fallen ill, Caretaker knew they’d never agree to see a doctor. 

And so Caretaker hadn’t bothered asking. 

It’d been easy to slip something into their food. They usually would’ve noticed it instantly, but illness had dulled their sharp mind and left them half delirious with fever. It’d been easy to bundle their limp, far too light body in a blanket and tuck them into the car. It’d been easy to ignore the look of betrayal in their half lidded eyes, and pretend their slurred objections were just incoherent mumblings. 

Some part of them had hoped Whumpee wouldn’t remember it. 

“I had no choice,” they said instead. 

“You had no choice?” Whumpee laughed, humorless and unpleasant. “You drugged me and dragged me to the hospital. Who forced you to do that?”

“I had to, Whumpee. You weren’t getting better. You were sick, and injuries from–...from before–,” Caretaker hesitated, stuttering. 

Whumpee did not. “From Whumper? You can say it. I’m not going to fall apart.”

Caretaker nodded, swallowing thickly. “You were already hurt, your body couldn’t handle illness alongside that. You may not remember but–,” the memory of the coughing fits that left Whumpee struggling to stay upright, the unfocused and cloudy eyes staring dully at nothing, the ever rising number on the thermometer, flashed through Caretaker’s mind. “--it was bad. I was worried you’d die. I just wanted to help you, and I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

“So it’s my fault now?,” Bitterness dripped from every word Whumpee spoke. They tried to lift themselves into a more upright position, arms shaking from the effort, and Caretaker had to resist the urge to rush over and help them. “It’s my fault I don’t get to make decisions for myself anymore?” 

“I never said that.”

“You think you just have a right. Because you ‘care about me’, you have the right to ignore every single thing I want. Because you’re smarter, because you know better.” 

“Just listen–”

“No, you listen,” the words came out in a growl. Whumpee’s hands gripped at the bedsheets, shaking. “Everyone’s always–always deciding shit for me! Treating me like I can’t be trusted anymore, like I’m some little kid who can’t think for themselves! Whumper thought the exact same thing, but it’s fine when you do it, right?!”

“Stop it.” the words came out more harshly than Caretaker had expected. Whumpee flinched back as if they’d been hit, falling silent. “Don’t compare me to them. I’m trying to help you, and you’re fighting me at every turn! We just got you back, and it’s like you’re trying to leave again,” the words spilled out of Caretaker, half angry, half pleading. “I’m not going to sit by and let you hurt yourself.”

The two fell into silence. For the briefest moment, a look of fear flash over Whumpee’s face. They shrank back, and in that instant the guilt Caretaker felt nearly sent them to their knees. Whumpee’s look of resentment returned only a moment later, but the anger that had fueled it seemed snuffed out. They wouldn’t look Caretaker in the eye. 

The beeping of Whumpee’s heart monitor, insistent and far too fast, felt like a condemnation in Caretaker’s ears. 

Caretaker let out a shuddering sigh, a hand coming up to rest in their hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Whumpee was silent for a long moment, not turning their gaze upward. When they finally spoke, their voice was quiet, drained of energy. “Just leave.”

“Please, just let me explain–,”

“Please. Don’t make me beg.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Whumpee didn’t respond. They didn’t look up when Caretaker left.

[kybercrystals94]

Sick Day

Read here on Ao3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 29 | Prompt 29: Not Allowed to Die || Bad Things Happen Bingo: Hallucinations

Rated: G | Words: 516 | Summary: Echo is sick with a fever.

“Echo, I’m going to help you sit up.”

Everything hurts, even the soft weight of the blanket over his body. “Ugh, what’s wrong with me?” Echo groans.

An arm wraps around his shoulders, a hand on his bicep, and he is guided upright. “You're sick.”

“How? Clones don’t get sick.”

“Most clones don’t get sick. Clones with compromised immune systems on the other hand…” The arm and hand leave him, and something presses to his lips. “Here, drink this.”

The cool water feels like swallowing glass, but Echo dutifully takes several gulps before pushing the canteen away. “I don’t have a compromised immune system,” Echo protests, leaning back against the headboard of his bunk. He finally opens his eyes and glances at his brother sitting next to him.

Fives shrugs. “I’m not a medic, that’s just what I was told. Either way, you’re sick. You’ve got a fever.”

“I feel like I got hit by a speeder and then trampled by a rancor,” Echo grumbles.

“You’re so dramatic,” Fives huffs.

“I prefer poetic,” Echo says, letting his eyes slip shut again.

“Hey now,” Fives says, giving Echo a small shake. “No falling asleep yet. Tech still needs to run diagnostics. He wanted to wait until you were awake.”

Echo’s eyes snap open and he looks at his brother. “Who?”

Confusion and concern battle for dominance across Fives’ expression. “Tech,” he says, slowly. “You know who Tech is.”

Echo shakes his head, not because he doesn’t but because…Fives doesn’t. Fives can’t know who Tech is because they’ve never met.

“Echo, do you know who I am?” Fives asks, leaning forward.

“Of course I know who you are, Fives.” Echo tries to laugh, but it comes out strangled of any humor.

Fives’ face falls. “Oh, Echo,” he breathes. “I think…I think the fever is messing with your head.”

“No it’s not. I can see you. You’re right here.” Echo reaches out to grab Fives’ arm, but Fives pulls back, narrowly escaping being struck by Echo’s scomp.

That’s not right.

Echo’s takes a shuddering breath.

“Easy, Echo,” Fives soothes, moving closer again, hands up in a pacifying way. “I need you to stay calm.”

“No,” Echo cries, “You’re not dead! Fives, you’re here. You’re not dead.”

Fives looks heartbroken. “Echo…Fives has been dead for a long time.”

Tech steps up behind Fives, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Maybe it would be best if we sedate him…just until his fever is under control.”

Fives stands and steps to the side, letting Tech take his place at Echo’s bedside. “Tech,” Echo pleads, “Tell Fives he’s not dead. He’s right there. You see him, don’t you?”

Tech shakes his head. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, Echo.”

Echo tries to pull away when Tech lifts the hypo to his neck, but it is like his energy has evaporated, and he can do nothing but weakly protest as the needle pricks his skin. “No…He can’t be dead.”

Before the world around him melts into darkness, Echo thinks he hears Fives whisper, “I am so sorry, brother.”

END

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[kabie-whump]

Not Allowed to Die

This was gonna be my last Febuwhump entry but then I changed my mind so enjoy <3

Content: Suicide attempt, drowning, nightmares, supernatural whump, cults/religion

First | Prev

~~~

Solstice’s parents - it still feels so weird to call them that - seem to be under the impression that everything is okay now that their baby is home.

It doesn’t matter that they spent 10 years being tortured and drained by a cult, their celestial essence used as fodder for some demon they revered as a god. They’re home now. Everything’s fine.

But that doesn’t keep the nightmares from coming.

Their parents call them nightmares. Solstice knows better. The awful demon isn’t confined to that dark compound like His worshippers are. He can move freely through the planes, and He refuses to let Solstice rest.

He appears in their dreams every night, determined to take what Solstice had tried to deprive Him of when they escaped. Not a single morning comes that Solstice isn’t already awake, watching the sun come up with tired, red-rimmed eyes.

Solstice’s parents try everything. Hot teas before bed, prayers, staying at their bedside throughout the night, even sleep spells. Nothing grants Solstice a moment of rest, and they’re reaching their breaking point.

It doesn’t help that they can’t bring themselves to care about the temple’s day to day worship of Berronar. Every mention of the goddess’s name fills them with bitter memories of darkness, of screaming for her help and getting nothing but silence in return.

Solstice can’t help but hate her. Nevertheless, they continue to seek help in the only way they know how: on their knees at their bedside begging for her to let them rest.

(Sometimes Solstice doesn’t know what they mean by ‘rest.’ A full night’s sleep? Or something more permanent.)

That’s the idea that has them wandering in the forest one night, their pockets heavy with stones. There’s a pond somewhere up ahead, deep enough to do the job. It’s peaceful there, water lilies and whistling reeds and uninterrupted moonlight.

The moon’s full tonight, lighting their way to the water’s edge.

They take a moment to feel bad for their parents. Going a whole 10 years thinking their child is dead only to have them return and then die again. It’s going to hurt them.

Solstice starts to shiver as the water soaks into their cloak with every step towards the pond’s center. They go in to their chin, then a step deeper.

Fear threatens to take over and propel Solstice back out of the water but they push it aside. If there’s any chance that doing this will take them somewhere that the demon can’t find them they have to try. They can’t take another night with those eyes presiding over their dreams or another day of conducting ceremonies for a goddess who created them with her light and then abandoned them in the dark.

It’s peaceful under the water, even though their lungs burn. Solstice opens their eyes, looking up one last time as the stones in their pockets weigh them down, dragging them further into the depths. The moon is a rippling spotlight above them.

Instinct takes over, forcing them to hold their breath until the moment that their lungs can’t take it anymore and then they gasp, pain blinding them as they inhale green water. Cold rushes into their chest.

And then gentle arms are holding them, lifting them from the water. Solstice begins to sob as they cough up water.

They just can’t catch a break.

A gentle voice is whispering in their ear as they continue to cry. “Shh, Solstice. It’s alright. Please, do not be afraid. You are safe.”

“Please,” Solstice gasps, too exhausted to fight. “Just let me go. I want to go.”

The woman holding them frowns. She’s beautiful - silver skin and blue eyes and long white hair that floats in a glowing cloud around her. She holds Solstice in her arms as she drifts above the surface of the pond and lands on the bank. “I do not understand. It is not your time yet. Why are you doing this?”

Solstice just shakes their head, shivering from the cold. “I just want to sleep,” they sob. “Nothing else works. I pray to my mother every night and she’s never helped me, not even once. This is all I have left.”

The woman studies Solstice carefully, her glowing eyes full of compassion. “I am your mother, Solstice,” she says. “Not Berronar. You’ve never prayed to me.”

Solstice just stares at her. They don’t understand. Their parents have always been devout worshippers of Berronar. It only made sense that she would be the one to have blessed them with a divine child. “Who are you?”

“I am Selune. You were born on one of my most sacred nights. I blessed you as a gift to your mortal parents. They must have misinterpreted the circumstances of your origin.”

Selune. The goddess of the moon.

Solstice has been praying to the wrong goddess this entire time.

Selune brushes Solstice’s wet hair out of their face. “I will take you home.”

Reality warps, and then they are inside the ceremony hall of the temple. Solstice’s parents are there, quietly lighting incense.

When they turn and see Solstice and Selune they stand in shock for a second before dropping to their knees, heads bowed in the presence of the goddess. Selune places Solstice on a pew.

“Our child is safe now,” she says softly. Then she melts into the moonlight that passes through a stained glass window and disappears.

~~~

Solstice taglist: @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @hauntedroseart @sapphicccici @altvaggie @alivenova @lolrpop

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Day 11: Time Loop / Cabin Fever

@febuwhump prompt: Time Loop @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Cabin Fever

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Wrecker Set after Season 2 Word Count: ~770 Click here to read on AO3

Synopsis: Hunter feels trapped in an endless loop after losing Omega.

Wake up. Breakfast. Dress. Follow another lead. Evening meal. Check in with Rex and Echo. Bed. Listen to Wrecker snore.

Wake up. Breakfast. Dress. Follow another lead. Evening meal. Check in with Rex and Echo. Bed. Listen to Wrecker snore.

Wake up. Breakfast. Dress. Follow another lead. Evening meal. Check in with Rex and Echo. Bed. Listen to Wrecker snore.

Nothing was bringing them closer to finding Omega. For all he vaunted his resistance network, Rex’s operation was in its infancy and even with Echo’s assistance the Advanced Science Division was beyond their reach. The tid-bits of information they were able to provide Hunter and Wrecker with were no more than rumours, ghost-stories.

The two clones spent days in each hyperspace jump, travelling to remote locales to chase down any clue that might lead to some concrete bit of evidence they could use. Anywhere the ephemeral ASD was rumoured to have been, Imperial presence was heavy. Every day demanded the utmost caution.

Even trained as they were, it was hard. Tempers frayed.

Evening meal, eaten in sullen silence. Check in with Rex and Echo. Bed; together, crammed into the same bunk, the only comfort in the day. Listen to Wrecker snore.

Wake up. Breakfast. Dress. Follow another lead. Evening meal. Check in with Rex and Echo. Bed. Listen to Wrecker snore.

“I don’t want to sleep on the Marauder,” snarled Hunter, physically digging in his heels and bringing them up short. “I just… I can’t.”

Another day of fruitless searching. Exhausted, bone-weary, lashed by inclement weather. The Marauder, their only home, haunted by the ghosts of their missing vode. Hunter couldn’t bear the thought of lying awake another night, listening to the echoing silence, staring at walls so familiar he wanted to tear them down.

“Give it up, Hunter,” growled Wrecker wearily. “We got nowhere else to stay.”

The big clone shouldered past his brother, heading up the ramp to the ship. Hunter dropped to his haunches, twisting his fingertips into the damp grass and swishing them back and forth.

“Sleep out here,” he called, an uncertain waver of command in his voice. “Wrecker. Come sleep out here with me.”

Wrecker stopped and peered back down at Hunter in the gathering darkness. “It’s rainin’.”

“It’s dry under the belly of the ship.”

For a moment they locked gazes, mutual stubbornness at war. Then Wrecker rolled his eyes.

“I’ll grab blankets from the bunk.”

Hunter whooshed out a sigh of relief and got back to his feet. Steeling himself, he followed Wrecker into the Marauder.

“I’ll fix dinner,” he offered, sounding guilty.

The way Wrecker bumped their shoulders together let him know he needn’t have worried. Hunter made sure to clasp a grateful hand to his brother’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he gathered their meagre rations and carried them back outside.

Wrecker had laid out a groundsheet and chucked the blankets and pillows haphazardly on it, as far as he could from the rain that gusted in under the Marauder’s protecting canopy. Hunter settled at his side, offering the larger portion of food without comment. Wrecker accepted. They ate, as usual, in silence.

“Thanks for this,” muttered Hunter after a bit.

“’S okay, vod,” was Wrecker’s reply.

“I just…” Hunter trailed off in thought, pulling his bandana off and running a hand through his hair, then scrubbing it over his face. “I need a break. Just for one night.”

Wrecker wiped up every morsel of food with his fingertips before discarding his bowl. He leaned his weight against Hunter, swaying them both to the side.

“Go to sleep. I’ll take watch.”

Sleeping outside. Not as safe as in the Marauder. Hunter felt a pang of responsibility.

“No. It’s okay, I can take first–”

“Hunter.” Wrecker’s voice was low and serious, but when Hunter looked up at him he was smiling. “I know yer sleep better planet-side. Get some rest. I’ll sleep tomorrow, whils’ you get us in the air again.”

Hunter rubbed a hand over his face again – because of tiredness, surely, not the sudden stinging in his eyes.

“Thanks, Wrecker.”

He settled onto the ground, letting his senses stretch out to sample the sounds and smells of the sodden night. Wind rustled plants, damp earth, the faint aroma of crushed grass. Storm-warmed air tickling over his skin in erratic gusts. The solid, reassuring bulk of his brother.

Hunter looped an arm round Wrecker’s middle, burrowing close into his side. One giant hand settled tenderly on his head, stroking his rain-damp hair.

“Night, Hunter.”

“Night, Wrecker.”

And whispered into the empty chasm of his heart:

“Night, Omega.”

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Who Heals the Healer? Day 21 – Unresponsive

Continuation of Day 7. Hyrule passes out from his injury. Legend takes care of him with Warrior’s help. He berates himself for not noticing. TW: description of injury, discussion of death

“How did it get this bad?” Legend whispered in horror. Hyrule’s condition had grown no better over the hours since he’d fainted. The hole in his side, tinted green at the edges, had been stitched up and bandaged, but the sight of it still burned itself into Legend’s mind. “How did we let it get this bad, Warrior?”

“He… I don’t know, Legend,” Warrior answered quietly. Crickets chirped in the rustling grass, announcing the coming morning. In the east, light only just brushed the low hanging clouds. Legend hadn’t slept a wink that night, keeping a vigil beside Hyrule as he tossed and turned in his sleep, whimpering when his side caught with a flare of pain that he wasn’t conscious to feel. Warrior had taken it upon himself to stay up with him, no matter how much the vet fussed about being babysat. “It… it was a chaotic situation. He just wanted to make sure that Four was safe. We all did.”

“But someone should have noticed that he wasn’t well! I should have noticed. If he hadn’t spent all of his magic healing Four—we had potions, and once Four’s life wasn’t in danger—or even fairies, Time could’ve—Hyrule wouldn’t have to be this hurt,” Legend finished finally, dropping his head into his hands. He let out a small sniffle. “I can’t believe we let it get this bad.”

“There’s nothing to do but wait it out, now,” Warrior said. “He’ll be okay, I’m sure of it.” “But what if he wasn’t?” Legend shot back tearily. “I saw that he was looking unsteady, but I didn’t even do anything about it until he was already collapsing and—I already knew that he has this stupid self-sacrificing tendency that we all do, but I went and let him heal Four without making sure that he wasn’t—!"

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the others,” Warrior hushed him. Indeed, he was sure that half of the camp was awake by now—Time’s breathing was too even to be natural, Twilight’s ear flicked irritably, and Wind grumbled out some sort of protest and turned over, pulling his pillow up over his head. Across camp, Wild sat up, made eye contact with Warrior, and slipped out of camp silently. Legend noticed none of it, and if he did, he didn’t care to mind his interruption. Warrior reached out and put a hand on Legend’s arm. “I understand that you’re upset. But it’s no one’s fault. And Hyrule doesn’t blame you. None of us do.”

Legend shoved him off irritably. “I do! I blame myself!” he protested. “Christ, he could have died, and I just—!”

Hyrule’s face twisted. He squirmed where he lay with his head in Legend’s lap, turning towards the older boy’s voice even in sleep. 

Legend ran a hand through Hyrule’s curly hair. “Rulie, are you awake?” he whispered, his voice so soft and gentle, so unlike his normal acrid jibes. It made Warrior… sad. “Rulie, can you hear me?”

“Link, can you open your eyes? Warrior found Hyrule’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Can you squeeze my hand? Let us know you're in there, buddy.”

They both waited with bated breath, but there was no more response from Hyrule. He settled with a huff and fell back into an uneasy slumber. Legend sighed and dropped his hand back into Hyrule’s dark curls. Warrior sat back, frowning.

“He’ll be awake soon,” Warrior promised the empty air. “He just—just has to heal a bit.”

“It’s not just the injury, it’s magic exhaustion,” Legend said, his expression clouded. “It… It can be a lot more dangerous than just a simple injury. Both combined…” He trailed off and didn’t start again. 

“I’m sure he’ll be alright,” Warrior repeated, as it felt he had dozens of times before. “He just has to get through this… this magic exhaustion thing.”

Legend gave no answer. By the look on his face, he didn’t believe him, either.

Read the whole story here! Who Heals the Healer

Or check out my Febuwhump Series here! HotCheetoHatred's Febuwhump 2024

[kydrogendragon]

Febuwhump - Rope Burns

Pairing: Dreamling (ish) Words: Warnings: Dark!Hob, Captured Dream Ao3 Link Here

Dream tugs at the bindings on his wrists and ankles. The bed is soft underneath him, but that does nothing to ease the steady thrum of fear that courses through his body. The rope, lightly glowing in the dimly lit room burns in a way that he has not felt before.

Here, in the bedroom of the man he called friend just days ago, he is trapped. He had been in the Waking when he was pulled within these walls. It reminded him of the summoning he’d experienced a century past, but gentler in some aspects. When he’d awoke from his state of unconsciousness, he was here, bound and held with rope that he should not even feel let alone have it burn his flesh.

Hob enters, the smile upon his face the same one that greeted him when he first walked into the New Inn, into the temple that had been built for him. And now he lies prone, vulnerable, like a sacrifice upon an altar to himself.

“Ah, you’re awake!” Hob says, his voice cheery. “I was hoping you’d come to soon, my friend. I was starting to get worried.”

“Hob, please. Release me.” He says, his voice a whisper. He finds he cannot speak much louder. Whatever magic is within these bindings, it saps at his strength. Dream can feel himself weakening, now, with each second.

“I will,” Hob says, nodding as he drags forward the chair tucked in the corner to the edge of the bed. He sits down, resting his elbows on the edge of the mattress, head in his hands. “I will, dove. But first, I have to make sure you’ll stay. Can’t have you running off on me again, after all.”

Dream frowns as he glares at Hob. “You would keep me?”

“Oh yes. Yes, that’s what all this is for, isn’t it?” He says, gesturing to the rope and the room and to the faintly glowing runes Dream can now see painted along the walls. As Dream’s eyes scan the room, a sinking feeling of horror falls over him. The magics in this place are strong, stronger than those that Burgess had lain across his floor. These are older, more personal and true to who and what Dream is. As his eyes snap back to Hob’s face, he can see the manic glee within his old friend’s eyes.

“Why?” Is all he can say.

Hob sighs and tilts his head within his hands as if pondering the answer. “Well, for one, I got really tired of seeing you always walking away from me. You’re the only friend I truly have, after all. No one else gets me like you do. But mainly, it’s to protect you. You said it yourself, someone took you, held you. They kept you away from me. And we can’t have that happen again. I made sure that my claim would be stronger than anything else. So now you don’t have to worry! You’re safe here, with me.” He reaches a hand out and places it along Dream’s cheek, as tender as a lover’s caress. The touch makes Dream sick.

Hob stares down, with eyes full of care and love that in any other circumstance, Dream would have done anything to see. “You see? This is all for you. For us. You don’t have anything to worry about anymore. And once I figure out how to make the connection stick, we can take off these nasty ropes.”

Dream pulls against the bindings which only seem to tighten further, the burning intensifying. Hob tisks, running his fingers over the bindings. “They hurt, don’t they?” He doesn’t look back to Dream, though he nods anyways. Hob hums. “I am sorry about these. But it was the only thing I could figure out how to do that would keep you here and make sure you didn’t run out, you know? But they won’t be permanent. Just temporary. You can handle it until then, right, love?”

Dream inhales sharply as Hob’s eyes flick back to his. It is not a question, not truly. There is challenge in his eyes and Dream knows that this will go one of two ways: either Dream cooperates, lets Hob play in this fantasy he has concocted in his mind, and the pain will be minimal or Dream fights. And he gets the impression there are further tactics Hob has to ensure Dream’s full cooperation, given or not.

So he nods, slowly, and lets out a breath as Hob’s smile returns to his face. “Good. Knew you could.” He stands up, clasping his hands together. “Right! Well, I’m running late for class. Should be back home around five. I’ll make sure to pick us up something tasty to celebrate with. I know you’re not much for food or drink, but those bindings’ll make you hungry.”

Hob leans down and presses a kiss to Dream’s forehead. His eyes shut, his heart lurching in his chest. “Be back soon, dove.” Hob whispers against his skin. The heat of his breath sends shivers down Dream’s spine.

His eyes remain shut as he listens to the sound of footsteps fading away. It is only after it has been silent for a while that Dream dares to open his eyes again. He lets out a shuddering breath as he stares up at the ceiling. There are no faux stars to be seen here. He is unsure if that is better or worse.

Dream tilts his head to the side and gazes at the window with it’s blinds pulled shut. Perhaps Matthew will find him. He does not believe Hob Gadling would injure him as Alexander had Jessamy. But he did not also believe Hob Gadling would bind and trap him here.

He lets out a breath and waits. What other option does he have, after all?

[em-writes-stuff]

too weak to move

day 18 of @febuwhump

whumper, villain, whumpee

711 words

warnings: captive whumpee, tied up, implied torture, torturing for information

part one here

~

“Villain,” someone says, drawing out her name. “It’s time to wake up.” 

She blinks awake, bright lights assault her eyes and she tucks her chin to her shoulder, trying to block it out. She can feel something digging into her wrists and ankles; she's tied to a chair. She mumbles, trying to say something, but the words don’t come. 

“Oh, no need for words right now, dear. Just open your eyes for me.” they say, voice smooth as honey. 

Villain forces her eyes open and she sees Whumper standing over her, their face inches from hers. She tries to pull away, to get away from their hot breath on her face, but she can’t. 

Whumper chuckles, “Good job, just like that.” 

They back away from her, hands clasped behind their back. Villain looks around the room, trying to gather information. “What’s-” 

“Shhh,” Whumper says, putting their finger to their lips. “No talking. You’ll wake him up.” they gesture to a sleeping Whumpee on the other side of the room. 

“Oh god,” Villain breathes. “What did you do to him?” 

Whumpee hangs from the ceiling, wrists high above his head. They’re nearly purple from lack of circulation. His chest looks…lumpy and is covered in bruises, the rest of him looks similar. His feet barely touch a stool, supporting a small amount of his weight. 

Whumper sighs, “I wanted to have a chat with him, but he wasn’t very cooperative. Decided to persuade him a little bit. Maybe now that you’re awake I can get what I want to know, huh?” 

Villain shakes her head, “No, just…let him go. He doesn’t know anything.” 

Whumper rolls their eyes and looks at her, “I know he doesn’t know anything. I also know that you’re not going to turn on Supervillain if I try to get it out of you the typical way. The only way I can think to get the information I need is to use him to get to you.” 

Villain shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to block everything out. “You’re insane.” 

They wrinkle their nose at her and walk over to Whumpee. “Oh, Whumpee. It’s time to wake up.” 

They kick the stool out from under him and he jolts awake. 

He cries out, writhing weakly. “Please…” 

Whumper frowns and shakes their head, “We’ve barely started! Don’t start whining yet.” 

“Stop it,” Villain says, pulling against her binds. “What do you want to know?” 

Whumper smiles and turns to her. “Something small to start, I think. How well does Supervillain know Whumpee?” 

“He- he doesn’t. I mean, I’ve talked about him, but they haven’t met yet.” She stammers. 

Whumper frowns and sighs. “I guess I’ll have to get him here using you then.” 

She forces a laugh. “He won’t care.” 

Whumper tilts their head, “Of course he does. You’re his little pet project. He took you in, trained you, and got you to work for him. He won’t just let you stay here and rot. He’s put too much time and energy into you.” 

She shakes her head, trying to put on a brave face. “I betrayed him. He knows it. As soon as he saw the computer when he woke up, he knew. I’m dead to him.” 

Whumper clicks their tongue and takes a step closer to her. “We’ll have to find out, I guess.” 

Whumpee tries to say something, to pull their attention to him for just a second, but he’s too tired. Even if he could manage a few words, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. 

Whumper waves him off, “Remember, it’s time to be quiet, Whumpee.” 

Whumper takes their phone out of their pocket and turns it on, “Ok, Villain. Big smile now, I’m going to send it to Supervillain.” 

She looks down at the ground, ignoring them. 

“Villain…” Whumper warns. “It’s in your best interest to look at the camera right now.” 

After another few seconds of her ignoring them, they grab a fistful of her hair and pull it, forcing her to look up. They snap the picture, the flash blinding her for a second. 

“There, was that so hard?” they chide, sending the picture to Supervillain. “And now…we wait. I suppose we could have a little fun though, couldn’t we?”

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 20 - alt. "I love you"

Inspired by this art

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 698

BNHA manga spoilers below

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

He remembers seeing Kacchan’s lifeless body on the grounds of UA. He remembers how his chest was torn open and his blood was splattered feet away from him. He remembers seeing the All Might card lying at his boyfriend's feet, the one they'd opened together a decade prior.

He remembers the way his mouth was open, the ghost of his last breath still coated in blood on his lips. 

Kacchan's body had rustled unnaturally, Edgeshot's needle-thin body occasionally visible as it moved. 

He remembers seeing red, pitying the man who dared put Kacchan on the ground and laugh at him. 

His hope for Shigaraki’s rehabilitation was obliterated the second the villain killed his best friend. 

The rest of the fight was a blur; Hearing Kacchan’s first breath, pulling the boy into his arms, and wiping Shigaraki’s blood from his face. 

And suddenly, he’s in a hospital, four hours post-operation, arguing with the nurse. 

“You are in no position to get up, Midoriya-san. You definitely shouldn’t be trying to use the stairs!” He gripes, tugging at Izuku’s gown like a bratty child. 

“Fine, I will take the elevator.” 

“SIR!” 

Izuku turns, glaring at the man, “If you will not take me to Kacchan, I will take myself there.”

The nurse sighs, “Bakugo-san is not ready for visitors yet. You can visit him when you’re both ready.”

“I don’t need to visit him, I just need to see him. No one has even told me if he’s stable! I just assumed and you didn’t correct me!” Izuku throws his hands up, refusing to wince at the ache in his ribs. He leans back against the hallway wall, tugging his IV stand with him, “I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

The nurse shoots a quick glance down the hallway as if expecting to be reprimanded for even letting Izuku past the door, “I know it must be hard, I saw the fight on TV and I can’t even imagine how it was for you actually being there, but I can’t let you stay out here any longer.”

Izuku rubs his forehead, avoiding the staples, and walks the few steps over to the elevator. 

“You misunderstand. I am going to see Kacchan whether you allow me or not. So you can either tell me where his room is, or I find it myself and slowly bleed out in the hallways.” He smiles kindly, dark eyes betraying his irritation. 

The nurse gulps, even being several inches taller than Izuku, looks rightfully threatened. “He’s in a room on the 5th floor, directly above yours.”

Getting to Kacchan’s room was the easiest part of the excursion. 

Finally, he shuts the door behind him and takes in the room. 

The curtains are partially open, allowing moonlight to filter into the room. Kacchan is centered in his bed, nasal cannula and a new scar similar to Kirishima’s the only evidence of his fight to the death with Shigaraki. 

Izuku knows his nurse is outside the room, pacing. He disregards the warnings and moves to sit on the edge of Kacchan’s bed, the room silent aside from the hum of an oxygen machine and the grind of wheels on the tile floor. 

He lets go of his IV and takes one of Kacchan’s hands in his own. He knows Kacchan would call him sappy if he were awake, but he knows the blond is just as bad when Izuku isn’t looking. 

The boy looks so beautiful, even pale as he is, with eye bags that rival Izuku’s own. He can imagine those deep red eyes meeting his own. Kacchan would curse him to hell for being awkward, but Izuku only ever wants to commit that color to memory. 

His lips are chapped and there’s a little dried blood on his chin, but Izuku wants to kiss him more than anything. 

Kacchan’s hair is getting long, the blond spikes pushed back with a headband. His forehead is making a rare appearance, smooth and unmarred by the battle. 

Izuku leans down and places a gentle kiss to the skin there. 

The hand in his is a heavy, reassuring weight. 

“Hey Kacchan.”

I love you. Thank you for living.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist

Woe a massive list be upon ye

You can also find all these on Ao3

Day 1: Experimentation (Wild & Twilight)

Day 2: Flinching (Warriors)

Day 3: Muzzled (Twilight/Wolfie & Four)

Day 4: Knife to the Throat (Warriors, Wind, & Time)

Day 5: “That’s Gonna Scar” (Legend & Everyone)

Day 6: Secrets Revealed (Time & Everyone)

Day 7: Made to Watch/Caged (Twilight/Wolfie & Four)—continuation of Day 3

Day 8: Panic (Warriors & Legend)

Day 9: Inferno (Hyrule & Wild)

Day 10: Difficulty Breathing (Legend & Sky)

Day 11: Fever (Time & Warriors)

Day 12: “Can You Hear Me?” (Wind & Warriors)

Day 13: Forced to Hurt a Loved One (Time & Twilight)

Day 14: Captivity (Sky)

Day 15: Self Sacrifice (Warriors & Mask)

Day 16: Semi-Conscious (Twilight, Wild, Warriors & Time)—continuation of Day 7

Day 17: Silent Tears (Four & Everyone)

Day 18: Can’t Stay Awake (Warriors & Fierce Deity)

Day 19: Time Loop (Time)

Day 20: Knife Wound (Wind)

Day 21: Shackled (Sky & Time)

Day 22: Can’t Scream (Wild)

Day 23: “You’ll Have to Go Through Me” (Warriors & Fierce Deity)

Day 24: Blood on Clothes (Legend & Hyrule) (psst there’s art for this one, created by the talented @la-sera)

Day 25: Assumed Dead (First & Everyone)

Day 26: Forced to Choose (Wild & Time)

Day 27: Survivor’s Guilt (Warriors/Artemis)

Day 28: “You’re Safe Now” (Twilight/Wolfie, Wild, & Four)—continuation of Day 16

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

@febuwhump DAY 18: Can’t Stay Awake

After being bitten by a genetically modified spider on his class field trip, Peter is too disoriented and weak to climb into bed, crumpling to the floor for a bad night’s sleep.

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump day 11 - fever

Starting febuwhump in the middle of the month with my Links from my own au Courage of Ages, because I looked at the list and basically gave into temptation 😅

I’m going to try and keep these short so i don’t get stressed, just fun oneshots and an excuse to write my Links more :)

Here’s an explanation of courage of ages, as well as who’s who, but in this fic only four of them show up. Gloam is tp Link, Hue is albw & tfh, Era is hw, and Sprite is oot & mm.

————————————————————

“Gloam?”

The Hero of Twilight blinked his eyes open, looking up at who’d addressed him. Hue stood next to the tree that he’d been dozing against up until a few seconds ago, looking like he felt extremely bad for disturbing him.

“Hey Hue, what’s up? You need something?” he yawned, and the younger hero shifted his weight nervously, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Era isn’t awake.”

Gloam tilted his head. “And..? Is that a problem? I mean, we weren’t going to head out until tomorrow morning anyways, he may as well take a nap.”

“No, I mean he hasn’t woken up all day,” Hue stressed. “I was going to tell you earlier but I couldn’t find you or anybody else, so I figured I’d just wait, but now...”

Hue glanced behind him at the inn in the distance where they were all staying.

“He’s barely moved. He was making weird noises before too, I’m... I’m kinda worried Gloam.”

The goatherd furrowed his brow and stood up, forgoing his comfortable spot against the tree to instead follow Hue back inside to where Era had apparently been sleeping all day.

If it were almost any one of the others Gloam would brush it off as them just taking a nap, but Era was one of the Links in their group who barely slept under normal circumstances.

Maybe he was just really tired?

They entered one of the rooms several of them were sharing, Gloam noting the lump on one of the beds. Drawing closer with Hue on his heels, Gloam saw Era tightly curled up under the sheets, already odd since he tended to sleep ramrod-straight on his back. His blanket was tight around his shoulders, breath wheezing in his throat, and when Gloam leaned closer he could see his face was flushed.

Wait...

Gloam leaned down and pressed a hand to Era’s forehead, then winced at the heat under his palm.

“Darn it, he’s got a fever,” he muttered, and at his touch, Era’s eyes flicked open.

He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and hair limp with sweat. He was always so put together, Gloam had to admit it was weird seeing him this... disheveled.

“We moving again?” the knight rasped, and made to sit up, arms trembling. Hue pushed him back down, and shook his head.

“No way, you’re sick Era. We’re not moving anytime soon.”

Era’s face paled.

“Sick? No. No way, I’m not sick I can’t be sick—” he said thickly, panic leeching into his voice.

“Era calm down, you’ve just got a bit of a fever,” Gloam soothed, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “You only need some rest, you’ll be fine.”

Era swallowed, and Gloam could see him mentally push the panic down.

“But... we need to get going tomorrow,” he protested with a cough. “This was only supposed to be a quick stop, and then—”

“We can spare a day or two,” Gloam interrupted. “We switched pretty recently, I doubt we’ll leave this time for a little while yet. And you can’t go anywhere in this condition.“

Era looked like he was about to argue, but instead sneezed several times in a row, each one getting progressively louder.

Hue muffled a giggle at the surprisingly high-pitched sneezes, then shrank back at the look Era gave him.

“Umm, I’ll go get some soup I saved from the other night,” he said, then quickly escaped out the door. Gloam watched him go with an amused smile, then pulled a chair to Era’s bedside, sitting down as he looked down at the other hero.

The knight’s eyes were half-lidded and weary, but he made an effort to look more awake once he realized Gloam’s gaze was on him.

“I really am all right,” he rasped, and Gloam shook his head, sighing.

“No, you really aren’t,” he countered. “Hue said you’ve been sleeping all day.”

“So?”

Gloam eyeballed him. “You are always up at the crack of dawn, same as me. The only reason I didn’t notice you sleeping in earlier was because I was preoccupied,” he said a bit guiltily, then resumed his stern look. “You. Are. Sick.”

Era shrank in his blanket, looking away from Gloam.

“But I’m holding us up,” he rasped quietly. “We were going to try to make it to the castle, we might not have time if we w-wait—”

Era broke off into a stream of thick coughs, raspy and painful sounding. He groaned when he finished, and Gloam handed him some water, the knight weakly sipping at it. Once he’d finished, Gloam put his hand back on his forehead, trying to get a sense of just how bad his fever was. Era flinched, but relaxed after a minute, eyes drooping.

“I think your fever could be worse, but I don’t know how long you’ve had it either,” Gloam murmured, then pulled his hand away with a sigh. “Either way... it’s certainly not the greatest. We can see if this town has a healer, but in the meantime try and get more sleep?”

“Slept all morning,” Era mumbled. “Don’t need more.”

“You’re practically dozing off Era,” Gloam said dryly. “Just go back to sleep. Or I’ll get everyone in here and they can yell at you too.”

Era winced. “...don’t do that.”

The door creaked as he finished speaking, and Gloam turned, expecting to see Hue. But Sprite walked in instead, looking a little out of breath, like he’d run all the way here then stopped right at the door in an effort to seem nonchalant.

“Hue said you’re sick,” he blurted out, then crossed his arms and gave Era a foul look. “How on earth did you manage that?”

“You think I know?” Era croaked, and Gloam watched the worry in Sprite’s eyes grow more prominent at how weak his voice was.

The kid hesitated, then stalked over and jumped up on the bed next to him, ignoring Era’s immediate protests.

“Kid I’m going to get you sick, get off,” Era said sharply, but Sprite only crossed his arms behind his head and laid down.

“You shared your canteen with me yesterday, I’m probably already doomed,” he snipped back. “And I heard you and Gloam arguing, just go back to sleep, huh? It’s going to take you forever to get better if you don’t rest.”

“This from the kid who sleeps like two hours every night,” Era said with an eye roll, and Sprite elbowed him.

“Just go to sleep!”

Era still looked reluctant, and Sprite sighed, then creamed the knight with a pillow he’d grabbed without an ounce of apology. Era let out a affronted hey! and Sprite glared at him, holding the pillow threateningly under his arm.

“Era. Captain. Old Link. Go to sleep,” Sprite stressed. “Or it’ll be even longer ‘til we can leave.”

Era continued to glare half-heartedly at him, which Sprite returned with an equally fierce look, and Gloam decided to leave them to it.

“I’ll go see if Hue found that soup or not,” he said, trying not to smile, and began to leave the room.

“Wait, make sure nobody else comes in here,” Era rasped before he could go, grabbing Gloam’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. He gave him a serious look, and Gloam paused. “We don’t need it spreading. Keep Cloud out especially, you know h-how—”

He broke into a coughing fit again, and Gloam pulled his blanket back up around him, Sprite giving the knight a thinly-veiled look of worry.

“We’ll try and keep everyone out, calm down,” Gloam assured. “We’re serious though, obviously you need more rest. At least try and go back to sleep, I’ll go bring you some food in a bit.” Era didn’t reply, and Gloam left the room as Sprite rummaged in his pouch, already wondering how he was going to keep all the other Links out.

The sound of an ocarina followed him down the stairs, the slow notes of a lullaby ringing softly through the inn.