FebuWhump 2023
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Steve’s happy. It’s a good day. He’s adjusting, learning to live here, in this time, with these people. And he slaps Hulk on the elbow, friendly-like, joking, grinning.
Hulk doesn’t take it that way. Hulk, Steve’s realizing, tensing as the behemoth growls and whirls to face him, has never probably experienced a friendly slap to the back in his life, short that it is. (Bruce, he also thinks distantly, probably hasn’t in some time either.)
Series
- Part 1 of FebuWhump 2023
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Arthur unsheathed his sword quickly, in an instant, eyes flickering back to Merlin as he did so.
Merlin flinched. It was a whole-body flinch, a shuddering of every limb, a violent thing that had him stumbling backward, despite the hurt he was already in. His fingers and arms curled inward, his spine hunched more than it already had been, and the furrow in his brow from the pain of his wounds was replaced by shock.
Horror doused down Arthur’s spine. Horror because he knew what Merlin was thinking, and horror because he would have to keep on letting Merlin think that. There was no time to explain the plan, no time to reassure Merlin of what was about to happen.
Series
- Part 2 of FebuWhump 2023
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Rage swelled through Clive, rage, wrath, a storm of fury that threatened to drown him. He’d seen terrible things, during his years on the force. He’d see more of them, in the years to come. But Liv was his friend. Liv, the zombie, the medical examiner, the faux-psychic who helped bring killers to justice, was his friend. For a moment, for an eternity, the sight of that muzzle was unbearable.
It was Ravi’s impatience that snapped him out of it, Ravi’s step forward, bumping into Clive’s back, that brought him back to reality.
Series
- Part 3 of FebuWhump 2023
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John took a practiced step back, careful, treading lightly on linoleum. “I’m not doing anything,” he said, shifting his posture a little. Hands still raised, he buckled his knees a little: it had the dual benefit of making him look a little shorter, a little smaller, a little less threatening, and simultaneously preparing him to spring. The space between them didn’t matter. The space between them was nothing. John was a trained killer; this woman was nothing. If she touched a single hair on Harold’s head, if the blade at his throat let loose one single drop of blood, she was done. John would snap her neck with one move, pummel her head against the plaster wall behind her, wrench the knife from her own hands and turn it on her own pale throat.
Harold was the only one who could stop him, and Harold was the one with a knife at his throat.
Series
- Part 4 of FebuWhump 2023
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Morph, my brain tried to tell me. Morph, and the pain will be gone. It was a tried-and-true tactic, one we used often in battle, but it wasn’t an option right now. My dad was right there, and even I wasn’t that fast of a morpher. Besides, it wasn’t like there hadn’t been times when morphing wasn’t an option, when we had to battle through the pain and wait for healing later. I could handle a little gash and a few bruises. This was nothing.
As my dad came back into view though, goat calm again as he herded it into a stall, I second guessed my own thoughts. Was this nothing? How was my dad going to react? How would a normal teenager react?
I’d never been afraid of blood, or needles, or hospitals, or anything like that, so I didn’t have to worry on that front, but pain… Was I powering through it because I was used to it, or was it really that minimal? Did I have to put on an act for my father, lie to him about even this?
Series
- Part 5 of FebuWhump 2023
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She hadn’t tried to kill him though. His mind was stuck on that. Maybe her mindset had shifted a little. Maybe the truce still held.
Blinking away the last of the spots in his vision, Danny took to the air again, rising above the buildings. It was a matter of seconds to spot Valerie, who seemed to be doing a search grid to track him down. He raised his hands. “Any chance we can talk about this?” he tried asking, as she spotted him a second after he saw her.
Sam would have killed him for even asking. Tuck would have just told him to go invisible and go home. But Danny’d always held a little hope that they could get along someday, maybe even work together.
Except Valerie was already raising her gun as she spun, and she’d always been quick to the trigger.
Maybe coming up from behind her wasn’t the best option, Danny thought, in the split-second before the bolt hit him.
It was much stronger this time.
Series
- Part 6 of FebuWhump 2023
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“It’s difficult to say, but the constructors of this facility might not have been quite, human. Or, close, but…”
Jack doesn’t care if they were Asgard, Nox, or Furling, he just wants to know what it means for them. “Meaning?”
“Meaning something which might only sting them could seriously hurt us.”
“So we don’t fail, then,” Jack says. It’s pretty glib, for someone who was arguing against taking these so-called ‘tests of character’ less than two minutes ago, but hey, if the science geeks tell him it’s the only way out – and the SGC didn’t let him pack enough C-4 – then Jack’ll go along with it.
Series
- Part 7 of FebuWhump 2023
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“I almost died,” Riley said, quiet, muttered, gaze distant, more to himself than anything.
Carefully, carefully, Ben helped him lower himself to the ground. His own heart was racing, even though he knew that this was a logical reaction for Riley to have. As bad as it sounded in his own mind, he hoped Riley got over things quickly; he’d carry his friend if he had to, but they wouldn’t get far that way. They couldn’t afford for true shock to set in, not now.
“I know,” he said, gentle, “I know. It’s alright. Ian’s gone now.”
Series
- Part 8 of FebuWhump 2023
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Carefully, carefully, they get Crichton lowered into his bed. On top of the covers for now, but anything else involves too much movement and coordination. D’Argo lets himself fall back (covering the exits, nevermind that they’re on Moya, safe) as Zhaan kneels at his side.
“How are you feeling, John?” she asks, safe, gentle and soft and kind as always.
D’Argo feels something in himself harden at the sound of it – at the need for it – even as he relaxes a little. John’s in good hands, now. They’ve got him here. He’s going to be alright.
Then John tries to speak. Tries being the operative word. His eyes have fluttered open, head limply turned to the side so he can stare at Zhaan, and his mouth opens only to let out a horrid, hoarse croak.
His voice cracks terribly, like shattered glass in his throat, and D’Argo winces at the sound of it, at the awful way John immediately proceeds to slam his eyes shut, to weakly curl his fingers into fist (the only parts of him he can really move). A groan leaves his throat instead, a groan than sounds more like a whine.
Series
- Part 9 of FebuWhump 2023
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“We chasing them down, Hop?” Steve asked.
Well, tried to ask. Intended to ask.
All that came out of him was a wheeze. Shit. Crap. The adrenaline fading, Steve suddenly realized how heavily he was breathing, how desperately his chest was working to bring air into his lungs. Somehow, something wasn’t working the way it should have been.
He wheezed again, bat dropping from his fingers. He curled over where he stood, right hand coming up to pry at the collar around his throat. He couldn’t breathe. An elephant had taken up residence on his chest, a boa constrictor was squeezing, and Steve’s poor, abused lungs couldn’t take in the oxygen that would save him. He dropped to his knees, still holding his collar away from his throat with his right hand.
Series
- Part 10 of FebuWhump 2023
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“Ned? Are you alright?”
The piemaker the question was directed toward blinked, realized he’d zoned out holding a strawberry-that-was-once-dead, and dropped it back onto the cutting board in front of him. “Yeah,” he lied, blinking again as he realized Charlotte "Chuck" Charles was standing across the counter from him, staring at him worriedly.
In truth, the piemaker’s head felt hot, pounding with a minor headache, and the rest of him felt chilly, shivering in the normally warm Pie Hole, but he didn’t want to say this to Chuck. Historically, fevers and illnesses were something Ned had always taken care of himself, usually by pretending he wasn’t experiencing them and downing some cough syrup before he went to bed. He was used to lying about them, and used enough to pretending that he wasn’t sick that it didn’t feel like lying to him.
Series
- Part 11 of FebuWhump 2023
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“Cindy says this is the last one,” Courtney insisted again.
Yolanda rolled her eyes. “Oh, well, if Cindy says.”
Courtney shot her an exasperated look. Pat thought about rounding them up and getting them back on task, but it was rare he had to do that these days. They were joking around, getting rid of some nerves before they breached the cave laboratory and relaxing their muscles after a hard flight up the mountain. Already they were straightening a little, Yolanda taking up position to one side of the door as Courtney approached the keypad. Pat stood a little ways behind Courtney, preparing himself for anything. It was very unlikely there was anyone living here, as hidden as this lab was, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any threats.
Series
- Part 12 of FebuWhump 2023
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The thief gave him a glancing look, then turned back to Kara, a clear dismissal. “And who might you be? Supergirl, he called you?”
To her surprise, Kara didn’t feel any compulsion to answer. No words bubbled out of her throat, spilling forth without her command. She tried to loosen her grip on Oliver, but her limbs were still outside her command.
She tried to speak next. “You should listen to him,” she said. She wanted to straighten her spine, to present the proud, capable hero her home world was familiar with, but though she could speak and think, could move her eyes and breath and blink, the rest of her body was cut off from her. She felt as though she’d been encased in stone, in something harder than stone, strong enough to hold even her. Hopefully the uneasiness she was experiencing didn’t come through in her voice.
Series
- Part 13 of FebuWhump 2023
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Bound Together by justafandomfollower
Fandoms: The Bastard Son and the Devil Himself (TV)
14 Feb 2023
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Nathan had let out a wordless shout, wordless only because he still couldn’t speak. His body had tried to double over, but the man had still held the blade and kept him upright with it digging into his shoulder. At least Nathan hadn’t had to hear the squelch as the blade had pulled from his flesh, but he had heard the man speak.
“Just so you don’t get any ideas,” he’d said, the only sound in the silence. “Don’t worry, you’ll heal up right quick.”
Which had brought him to here, to now, stuffed in a cage in the back of one of the vans, shoulder throbbing. He didn’t know if his partners had been left behind, or grabbed after him and thrown in the other. The stab wound had been just another harsh lesson, just another thing done to him because someone could, because they wanted to, because Nathan didn’t matter, because he was already evil just for having been born.
Series
- Part 14 of FebuWhump 2023
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Piper didn’t move from her spot in front of Katya and Felicia and Ziv. She knew the saying – an enemy of my enemy – but she didn’t felt that quite applied to strange men shoved into cells with teenage girls. She studied the man. He looked average, for a young adult. Broad shoulders and a tall frame, but not overly muscled. He wore regular khaki cargo pants and common work boots and a garish Hawai’ian shirt. The only thing not average about his was the eyepatch, covering his left eye.
Ziv was the first to move, mere seconds after the door shut and the man spun to face them, but Piper put out a hand, stopping her from moving past her.
“Mr. Xander?” she asked, incredulous.
“You know each other?” Piper cut in, before ‘Mr. Xander’ could reply.
“He’s from the Watcher’s Council,” Ziv said. “Came with the Slayer when I got called.”
Series
- Part 15 of FebuWhump 2023
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When the guards stripped them down, frisking them for any potential weapon, Chuck hadn’t thought anything of it. It was typical guard behavior, and it made sense that they would take his phone and his belt and his watch and even his shoes, anything and everything that he could have used as a weapon, or to call for help. Except his watch wasn’t a watch, and there were only half-a-dozen or so people in the world who knew that. For some reason, Chuck had never even considered the idea that he might lose it one day. He’d made extra, spares in case of emergency, but he’d been thinking of breaking it in a fight, or accidentally jumping into water with it on, not handing it over to some two-bit thugs without a fuss. Not that he’d had much of an opportunity to. He didn’t even have a moment to protest before they shoved him into the cell with Casey on his heels, dragging Sarah away to be questioned first.
Series
- Part 16 of FebuWhump 2023
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Eve reaches for him, long, thin fingers wrapping around his wrist almost absentmindedly, almost without thought, the rest of her being focused on his face, his expression, his frantic energy that signals he’s in the middle of something serious.
Flynn flinches back. He halts in his steps faster than usual, almost lurching backward with how quickly his feet stop and he flinches with a full-bodied motion, tremor shaking through him. Eve releases him in the next instant, pulling her hand back in horrified alarm. For a moment, she remembers how shaky and jumpy he’d been when they’d first met, the way he’d seemed unused to human contact. Then, she sees the pained grimace on his face, and the way he instantly retracts his arm, cradling it against his chest.
“Flynn!”
“It’s alright,” he says, quickly, wiping the grimace away. “It’s alright. No time, anyway.” He shakes his arm out a little, giving Eve a brief look at the angry red lines that encircle his wrist.
Then he’s reaching out in turn, grabbing her wrist instead and tugging her out of the room. “C’mon!”
Series
- Part 17 of FebuWhump 2023
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Rodney feels a brief flare of alarm at that. “What?!” he asks, though it comes out more dampened than his usual screeches. “I told you –” He cuts himself off. John’s blinking at him. Of course he doesn’t remember. Rodney barely does, and he’s the super genius here.
He staggers to his feet, pushing off the desk, stumbles, and slips and falls to one knee. The pain jolts through him, a temporary reprieve from the sluggishness that pervades the room – the building – but also a distraction. He comes back to himself a bit more awake but blinking in confusion. What had he been about to do? Looking around the room he spots John, watching him, and Teyla, still moving fluidly in concentration. Where’s…
Right. Ronon. Ronon went to try and find another way out of here again, when Rodney had explicitly told everyone not to split up. They’d napped in shifts in the beginning, giving each other chances to take a break from fighting the affliction while someone else was still alert enough to wake them up, but as the call to eternal slumber had grown stronger they hadn’t wanted to risk it. Not that they entirely have a choice.
Series
- Part 18 of FebuWhump 2023
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A backhand across his face rattles his skull. His teeth dig into his cheek as his head snaps to the side, and blood fills his mouth again. He spits out yet another mouthful of the stuff and turns back to face his captor.
“You know,” he says, still grinning, grim and menacing. “If you’re trying to get my attention, try not to hit me upside the head so much. It’s making it hard to focus.”
The man leans forward to grab his shirt, bunching it up under his fist. The force of it pulls Marc up out of the chair slightly, tugging at the ropes around his wrists and ankles, pulling at his ribs. Twinges of pain run down his leg as the small knife still embedded there shifts ever so slightly.
“I’ll show you hard to focus,” the man growls out, and rips the knife from Marc’s thigh with his other hand even as he drops him again.
Series
- Part 19 of FebuWhump 2023
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The knife slips between his ribs almost expertly, in and out, clean and quick and easy, slicing through flesh but not touching bone. Lucifer’s mouth parts at the shock of it, though the pain hasn’t quite hit him yet. He turns his attention back to the crowd and meets the eyes of a child. (Not an expert then, just sheer luck.)
I’m sorry, the urchin mouths, looking genuinely regretful, and then they’re gone, disappearing into the masses.
The pain hits then, his hand moving reflexively to press at the wound and the blood that’s pouring out of it all too quickly. Rage follows shortly after, rage that they would dare attack him, rage that they would send a child to do a man’s work, but Lucifer lets it simmer in the background. The target of his ire isn’t here at the moment, and there are far more important things to deal with.
Like the fact that his vision is going blurry and his knees are starting to weaken.
Series
- Part 20 of FebuWhump 2023