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makeitmakesomesense · 3 months

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Natasha, did you think you could run away?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

@febuwhump Challenge Day 1: Helpless

Word Count: 1K

Her fingers shook. You watched in surprise, you glanced up at her expression. You could see it now, of course you could see it now. Your gaze dropped to her chest, its stuttering rise and fall.

Natasha noticed your attention. You watched her remember your presence. Her breathing regulated. She gave you a simple smile.

‘C’mon’ She told you, hopping out of the parked jeep. She knew you’d follow, she was right of course. Her stride seemed confident, your legs felt shaky.

You sat in the post-mission debrief room together. A table sat between the pair of you and the two interviewers. Natasha was talking, she’d been talking for almost half an hour. She was mission leader, this was to be expected. Her hands were in her lap, hidden from anyone’s view but yours. They covered a pocket on her mid-thigh. The pocket was empty. Her fingers played with the fabric end of the zipper. You watched them loop through the fabric over and over as she recalled the mission’s events.

She twisted the end tightly as she skipped over the moment it happened.

The interviewers interrupted her mid-speech. Natasha’s words halted immediately. The interview hesitated, thrown by the instant silence. Natasha swallowed, then her features relaxed.

‘Go on.’ She gave a self deprecating nod towards the interviewer. An apology for a social faux-pas.

The interviewer smiled in response.

Natasha’s fingers gripped the zipper tightly. You watched her skin press into the metal.

The interviewer asked about the moment in the mission when the comms had cut out. You felt your anxiety rise automatically.

The interviewer acknowledged it had only been a few seconds, clearly anticipating the response on the tip of Natasha’s tongue. Still, they liked to have a thorough account of anything that wasn’t recorded.

A muscle in Natasha’s jaw twitched with tension. You waited for her to speak, wondering if this was when she was going to tell someone. Finally say something. You watched her dig the zipper into her skin. The silence became awkward. You cleared your throat.

‘By the time Agent Romanoff had calmed me down from my overreaction, the comms were already back online.’ You said with your own self deprecating smile. The interviewer’s attention turned to you. Her expression cleared along with the moment of silence.

‘It was the first time the comms had ever gone down for me.’ You continued to lie easily. ‘I heard the burst of static and couldn’t think what to do.’

Natasha picked up the lie readily, expression calm again. ‘Things like this get covered in mission training, but reality can be different.’

Her tone was protective. Perfect for a mission leader advocating for their learning rookie.

The interviewer’s eyes softened slightly as she used a wrong piece of jigsaw to fill in the puzzle picture. You watched her score off a query about your raised heart rates during the mission.

Five minutes later, you left the interview. You walked together, only because you were heading to the same place. The cafeteria was still serving lunch.

You didn’t speak as you walked. There wasn’t anything you could think to say. Natasha’s expression was calm, unremarkable to anyone walking past you. You wondered if she was still thinking about it. You wondered how she could be thinking about anything else.

The man’s voice that had come through your ear pieces. Just thinking about it raised the hairs on the back of your neck all over again. The chilling threat in his brief words. He hadn’t even been talking to you.

Natasha picked up a plastic tray and joined the line for food.

The eight words played in your head. Like a song that wouldn’t end.

‘Natasha. Did you think you could run away?

You picked up a tray and stood a few places behind her.

‘Natasha. Did you think you could run away?

Just before the cafeteria staff could ask for her order. Natasha checked her watch. She rolled her eyes, swore under her breath and placed the plastic tray back on the counter before heading through a nearby door. No one else gave her a second glance.

You knew her schedule had been cleared for the rest of the day. Just like yours. You hesitated. Just because you caught a lie, didn’t mean you had any right to it.

You counted a few more seconds before placing your own tray atop of Natasha’s discarded one and mumbling about having to pee.

You slipped out the same door she’d left through and found yourself in an empty corridor. You paused, uncertainty undermining your instinct to follow.

You didn’t even know her. You knew the legends of course, about the Black Widow. You’d thought maybe it was a taunt from some arch nemesis. Someone Shield had been hunting for years.

But then you’d seen Natasha’s fear. And then you’d watched her silence when Shield recovered the comms.

You glanced along the length of the corridor, at the plain gray doors on either side. This part of the complex was largely cut off from the rest of the building. Theoretically, you could open each door in order and eventually you’d find her.

‘Natasha. Did you think you could run away?

You recoiled at the taunt still replaying in your head. You didn’t want to hurt her. The words made you feel evil.

You walked to the first door on your left. A stationery closet, presumably for the unlikely event of a pencil shortage at lunch. Your heart dropped. You could hear her crying.

Evil words couldn’t stop you. You opened the door.

Natasha looked up at you from across the room. She was sitting against the far wall, her knees drawn up. Her arms encircling them, like an empty hug.

Shock irradiated from her at your appearance. You could see the immediate instinct for flight. Vulnerability was stamped all over her.

She gulped down a sob. You felt something close to nausea. You remembered the flash of childlike panic when she’d heard that voice. You looked at Natasha again.

She hadn’t asked Shield for help, because she didn’t think they could.

‘He’s bad.’ You surmised calmly, allowing yourself the stupidity of your words. ‘He’s really, really bad.’

Natasha’s lips trembled and you knew she couldn’t answer.

A very familiar terror rose in your chest, the childhood dread of the dark and monsters. You shut the door behind you hurriedly, twisting the lock shut.

Illogically, you found yourself backing away from it. You glanced at Natasha. Tears were rolling silently down her cheeks now. You felt yourself slide down the wall next to her. The brush of her shoulder against yours was familiar, echoes of past missions shared.

You felt her shaky breathing against your side. You reached for her hand, half surprised when she let you take it. You wove your fingers with hers, resting them on top of your touching knees. You gripped her tight. She gripped back tighter.

Together you watched the door. Waiting for the dark and the monsters to come.

‘Natasha. Did you think you could run away?

#natasha romanoff x reader #febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #natasha x reader #marvel fic

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corazondebeskar-reads · 3 months

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I'll take care of you

dark!Din Djarin x gn!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 1 - helpless | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 882

summary: Din takes care of you after a head injury leaves you helpless.

warnings: dark, dark!Din, gaslighting, graphic descriptions of injury, restraints, manipulation, violence, no y/n, reader has hair of unspecified length and no other description

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s blurry. Everything, that is. You try to reach to rub your eyes, but the cuff jerks you still.

Same shit, different day. You wish you’d start remembering faster when you wake up.

The mornings you do wake up, that is.

You know you’re missing days. It’s hard, with how the room spins, to keep track of anything.

“Good morning, cyar’ika. How do you feel?” says the smooth baritone, like fresh caramel dripping onto a sundae. It’s a warm comfort.

Until it grows cold and hardens, that is. His hand shoots out and grips your jaw. “What have I said about answering me when I speak to you?”

He’s quick to anger today. So you’ll likely be bed-bound again.

“Sorry, cyare,” you mumble. Using the pet name placates him, and his hand relaxes but doesn’t leave you, gloved thumb brushing your bottom lip.

You don’t even know if he’s flesh and bone. His cock would lead you to believe so, but the rest of him is cold metal, and they make good synthetics nowadays.

You don’t want to ask. It’s something you’re sure you should know, and sometimes, the things you’ve forgotten upset him. You guess you’d be upset, too, if your spouse forgot you.

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard when you’re still all scrambled.” He moves like he’s going to ruffle your hair, but all you feel is the grinding, bruising pain as his hand grips and jostles your head.

He’s rustling with the restraints, and you try to tamp down any and all emotion. He says it’s okay, that it’s normal for you to have intense feelings, all things considered.

But sometimes you seem to have the wrong feeling, and he doesn’t like that very much.

Once your wrists are unhooked, he helps you to stand on trembling legs. Walking makes you so dizzy, so he always makes sure he can support you.

That’s one thing you can’t deny despite the pain and forgetfulness. He’s so attentive while you’re helpless. He never leaves you to struggle. It’s obvious he’s a good husband—maybe even the romantic type, doting and considerate.

He lets you use the fresher by yourself but helps you stand up and settle the tunic back down around your body. It’s the only clothing you have on. Other than thick wool socks with rubber grips, that is. He says it’s not safe to walk without them.

You’re sad to be led back to bed, and it must show.

“How about I stay for a while, and you can have a break from the cuffs?” he offers.

It works, and you brighten up a little. “Thank you, Din.”

He still makes you sit in bed, but you can hardly be cross. He’s sitting with you and keeping you safe.

After all, that’s how you got hurt in the first place, he said. Falling off the bed like a silly little thing and cracking your head.

Your dreams recall it quite differently. When you do dream, he’s there too. But he’s bigger. Scarier. And so angry. So, so angry.

You always wake up before your head collides with the wall.

Here, in the waking world, he holds you against his cold steel body. You’re inclined again to think he’s flesh underneath as warmth radiates from the leather and duraweave between the plates. He’s reading to you softly from a datapad since it still makes your head hurt when you try.

Which means he’s right there against you when it happens. You sit up, clutching your forehead.

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“I don’t know,” you say through a dry, tacky mouth. Your head is pounding, and when you look at him, so is your heart. Not with love, that is, but with terror.

It must be written across your face because he stiffens.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Cyar’ika,” he says carefully, raising both hands as if he means no harm. “You had an accident. You’ve had a severe head injury. Your memories keep coming and going.”

You’ve heard this before. You don’t believe him this time.

“You know me. I’m your husband, Din.”

You shake your head, wincing. “I want the truth.” Because what’s undeniable now is that it wasn’t a dream. This bulking beast of a man had cornered you in an alley behind the cantina after your shift.

He sighs, but there’s a new placating lilt to his voice when he responds. “Fine,” he murmurs, standing up. He comes around the bed and you back into the wall. Trapped.

“You want the truth?” he says, voice low and sultry. Smug. His hand comes up to brush your cheek. “You need me, cyar’ika. You were out there all alone and scared. No one to care for you. No one to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“Hardly,” he scoffs. “You’ve always been mine. You just didn’t know it. But now that we’re together…”

He reaches into the many pouches around his waist and surfaces with a small syringe, the overhead light glinting off the needle’s shiny point.

“We can do this one of two ways, cyar’ika. You can be good and do as I say. Or,” and he wiggles the needle in the air. “I can make sure you’re good. Either way, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #dark!din djarin #dark fic #dead dove fic #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday1 #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian x gn!reader #mando x reader #mando x gn!reader #fic: din drabble #toni does febuwhump 2k24

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adrift-in-thyme · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless (Wild & Twilight)

Read on Ao3

And so it begins...

I'm super excited for another whump-filled month! Thank you in advance to everyone coming along with me on this wild ride! Your support means the world to me <33

CW for a panic attack

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Wild looks down at his hands. Maybe, that isn’t the best idea at the moment, because they are trembling so violently he thinks that if he picked something up he’d drop it.

And that is not the only thing shaking either. His entire body is. Like the leaves on the trees in Hateno Village, blown wildly about by a hearty wind.

He breathes in and gains no oxygen from it. This…whatever this is has been coming on all day, squeezing his chest and throat and turning his vision fuzzy at the edges. But now, it has broken free.

He is just glad that he made it to camp before it did.

Why it even came, he hasn’t a clue. There’s some reason behind it, he’s sure. But it’s not often that he can pinpoint it.

This just happens sometimes, an outpouring of unpleasant emotion he isn’t expecting. A feeling so like the one that had hounded his footsteps throughout his journey to save Hyrule. The terrible, inescapable certainty that the world is going to end.

But it’s not going to end…at least from what he can see. The sky is a calm, unassuming navy, speckled with stars. The moon glows a golden hue, innocent and merciful. The cheerful voices of his brothers drift to his ears from where they sit, bathed in the warmth of the fire.

They are safe. He is safe.

Yet, Wild feels anything but. He feels like a hinox has just sat down on his chest.

Nearby, someone laughs. Warriors, he thinks. The sound is like a knife driven into his heart.

Wild curls in on himself. He clasps his hands together, fingernails digging into calloused skin. Desperate tears spring to his eyes and slide hot and fast down his cheeks. Breathing feels useless now, impossible. He’s drowning even as he drags in air.

His surroundings blur into shades of blue and green.

Get it together, Link, he tells himself, even as a rushing noise floods his ears, followed up by a high-pitched ring. He remembers that sound from before. He heard it so many times – during ceremonies and dances and every other stuffy royal performance that stuck him at the forefront of the people he would fail. When he kneeled before Zelda too. When Ganon attacked and all he could do was run.

You’re fine. It quickly becomes a chant. Everything’s fine. So, just pull yourself…

The sound of footsteps comes crashing through his tumbled thoughts. Whatever wheezing little air he had been able to drag in sticks in his throat. His pounding heart skips several beats.

Wild scrambles to his feet, eyes wide and feet unsteady. He reaches for his sword. But he doesn’t find it.

Oh, yeah. Because it broke the other day. Great. Just great.

The piercing blue eyes that gaze up at him, however, and the slender gray body that curves through the brush with the grace of a serpent are those he knows. A wolf sits down before him.

The panic that has reached a fever pitch dims slightly. Wild chokes out a half-breath.

“Twi.”

Twilight pads toward him, concern in his eyes.

“Are you alright, cub?” He seems to ask.

“I—” Wild clenches his hands into fists. “I’m…”

Fine. Everything’s fine. Nothing for you to worry about.

He shakes his head, defeatedly. Tears burn hot behind his eyes. In the next moment, his legs give way beneath him, landing him in a pitiful pile on the ground.

“I’m not.” It’s a croak torn from a throat too tight for anything else. A truth that Wild wishes he didn’t have to voice and yet, is certain the rancher already knows.

He has never been able to hide anything from him.

Twilight steps forward, as silent as the moon gazing down on them from above. A cool, wet nose presses against Wild’s forehead, hot breath blowing his bangs. Blindly, Wild reaches out. Thick, soft fur meets his clawing fingers. He buries himself in it.

Twilight smells of the forest and shadow magic — wildflowers and damp leaves and the dew that settles in the early hours of the night. Smoke and something mournful.

Wild breathes it in. His fingertips brush back and forth through the fur, feeling the warmth and fluff beneath them.

Twilight inhales, and Wild can feel his chest move. His breath hitches.

The rancher feels real, sounds real, smells real. His presence softens the blows of the terror thrashing about within him, drives aside the sensation that the ground is crumbling beneath his feet.

He is here. Twilight is here. And they’re okay.

“Okay,” Wild whispers, hoarse and desperate, a plea for his words to be true. Tears streak in steady streams down his cheeks. “We’re o-okay.”

Twilight nuzzles him, gently. “That’s right. We’re okay, cub.”

For now, that traitorous voice whispers, the one that squeezes the air from his lungs and overwhelms him. Until the moment when it all falls apart. When you lose them all. Because you weren’t enough.

“Why?” He can only manage a murmur, strangled and hopeless. “I feel—I feel so helpless, Twi. Why do I — ”

Another sob tears his throat apart. He can’t see past the salty liquid cascading down, can’t feel past the terrible, inescapable pressure in his mind and on his chest.

It’s too much. Everything is just too much. The noose around him tightens until the breathtaking pain of it is unbearable.

If he hears one more sound, feels one more sensation, has to fight one more fight, he will explode. He is certain of it.

So trapped in the prison of terror is he that Wild hardly realizes it when fur turns to the soft cloth of a tunic. Arms encircle him and pull him close. A heart beats steadily in his ears.

He clings to that noise and the promise it contains, however temporary it might be. And he clings to the sound of Twilight’s voice washing over him like a wave, assuring him that it will be alright, that he is safe, that he is anything but helpless.

…That he doesn’t need to be invincible to protect those he loves.

“You’re stronger than you know, cub. And you’ve made me proud. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. You can’t and that’s alright.”

And though Wild can’t bring himself to truly believe that — maybe he never will, maybe that horrible tightness will remain a permanent fixture in his chest — he curls into his brother and tries to trust.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #panic attack tw #whump #angst #linked universe #lu wild #lu twilight #trin writes

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what-the-whump · 3 months

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Febuwhump 2024 | Day 1 | Helpless

Power Rangers Jungle Fury | 1x27 | Tigers Fall Lions Rise

#Power Rangers #Power Rangers Jungle Fury #Casey Rhodes #1x27 #hurt #collapse #weak #support #worry #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday1

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chaotic-orphan · 3 months

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Febuwhump day One: helpless

Oh yeah we’re doing another prompt calendar!! My favourites, I write things I never usually do because there’s a time limit and it’s fun. This prompt was hard, but I tried B)

CW: strained family relationships, dysfunctional family, kidnapping (implied)

*~*~*~*~*

Henchman escorted Villain up the opera-like staircase of the mansion, all marble floors and Greek style pillars to hold up the second floor. The first time Villain saw it they marvelled at the sheer class of it all. Now though, it was nothing more than a means to an end, Villain could be walking through the mud for all they cared, their mind was on other matters.

Henchman opened the door and Villain stepped in. The door closed behind them and Villain didn’t stop walking until they were at the chairs in front of the large mahogany desk.

Supervillain had his back half turned, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“How nice to see you, Villain,” said Supervillain. He didn’t turn his head as he spoke, just continued to stare out the window into the world outside.

Villain clenched their jaw at his easy, blasé tone, but anger never got Villain anywhere, so they took a second to relax it before speaking.

“Hello Supervillain. Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it?”

Supervillain hummed in agreement.

“Harvest season is nearly upon us,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Villain. “Have you been keeping your garden well?”

“I’ve been a bit busy recently,” Villain replied, tone clipped. Far much harsher than they intended for it to come out.

Calm down Villain, they chastised. Clasping their hands behind their back to stop clenching them into fists. An obvious action, one Supervillain would no doubt see through, but it comforted Villain at least. They could pretend that they were hiding it from Supervillain.

Supervillain said, tilting their head down to look at their glass, swirling the honey coloured liquid inside gently, “yes, I’ve heard of your recent escapades. Not from you, of course.”

An obvious dig at Villain. Villain wanted to erupt then and there but they didn’t, they forced themselves to remain calm.

“You can’t seriously expect me to come visit anytime I have gossip,” Villain scoffed running a hand through their hair. “I mean, what with being searched and seized every time I come in here and escorted through the halls like some stranger! Only for you to not have the decency to even look at me when I speak to you.”

Supervillain stopped the motion, raising their head. The hairs on the back of Villain’s neck stood up at the easy movement and they realised they had gone too far too late.

Supervillain turned their body from the window to face Villain. Villain fought the urge to step back. Why should they? They said exactly what they thought, and it wasn’t their fault anyway. Supervillain was the one who brought it up, not them.

Villain’s hands tightened into fists behind their back.

“Sorry, Villain. You must understand, it is very hard for me to look at traitors.”

The word traitor hit them like a punch to the chest, winding them.

“What do you—”

“Don’t play stupid, Villain,” Supervillain said, tone even, as if he was still talking about the weather. “I raised you better than that.”

Villain clenched their jaw, locked their lips and turned their head away.

“You have been reckless, Villain. Running around the city, fraternising with Heroes. How do you think that makes me look? That my own child is blatantly disobeying me publicly?”

Villain didn’t reply.

Supervillain sighed. From the corner of their eye they could see Supervillain moving around their desk, the barrier between them, Villain’s safety net and coming to leaning on the front of it, arms folded over their chest.

“Can you blame me for having you searched when you come in? I don’t know where your loyalty lies anymore.”

“It—” Villain began in protest but that was all that fell from their lips. “I—” they tried again, but nothing. The truth was that Villain didn’t know anymore. They didn’t know something they used to be so sure of.

They were a Villain through and through three months ago. They were born to it, grew up in it, the heir to their father’s empire. They liked being a Villain, they liked scheming about how to subdue Heroes and intimidate juries and witnesses.

They were unequivocally a Villain three months ago.

Then Hero showed up and turned their entire world upside down.

These days Villain helped Hero with their problems and understanding the inner workings of Villains to properly subdue them.

Other Villains.

Never their father’s.

Never.

They weren’t a traitor.

Burning eyes met their father’s cool gaze. “I’m not a traitor,” they said, voice thick with emotion.

Supervillain pushed off the table and stood in front of Villain.

“I don’t know that, Villain. I only know what I’m told, by people I trust.”

“What right hand?!” Villain demanded, throwing their hand out in a wide gesture, so close to completely losing it.

“Why do you want me to trust you Villain, hmm? Is that it?” Supervillain demanded, fury resting just under the surface of their skin below the calm expression. Villain let out a soft tch before turning their head away again.

Supervillain said, “Villain look at me,” and so Villain did. Supervillain raised their fist and placed it over Villain’s chest. The shrewdness of his age shining sympathetic in his eyes.

“How can I trust you when you are so clearly at war with yourself, Villain?” Supervillain asked, voice soft. It nearly broke Villain.

Very nearly.

The soft voice almost felt familiar, like how Supervillain used to speak with them when Villain had failed something and was punishing themselves for it. If they got less than 90 in a test, if there was someone annoying them, when they failed a mission. More usually when they were late in the night, pouring over every plan, every minute detail, every possible scenario and cursing themselves because why didn’t they see it before?

The times when Supervillain would find them with a cup of tea and a soft, sympathetic smile much like their expression now, coaxing them to go back to bed. That they were being too hard on themselves.

Villain would protest. They would say that they refused to be caught unaware again, to be in a situation where they were stuck. So completely helpless.

They didn’t need to rely on anyone, they shouldn’t have to.

“I will always be here,” Supervillain would say. Then when Villain would stare back at their work, Supervillain would take the seat next to them and sit with them while they worked through the problem.

Sometimes Supervillain would be silent.

Other times he would vocalise the issues he saw with the plan in hindsight that couldn’t have been known before the day.

Villain would wake up in their chair. Supervillain snoring beside them, head resting on their chest.

Villain’s fingers clenched into fists, then unclenched and clenched again. They didn’t know what they should do… what side were they on?

“Let’s make it easier, Villain,” said Supervillain stepping back, dropping all contact from Villain. He slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers, tilting his head at Villain. “Why did you come and see me today?”

“Because—” Villain said without thinking then stopped short.

Supervillain blinked. “Because?”

Because Hero’s missing, Villain didn’t say. And I’m worried you took them.

Supervillain was waiting patiently, though their eyes told Villain everything they needed to know. Business Supervillain was talking to them now, not their father. Which means…

Villain schooled their expression and said, “because you took Hero, and I’m here to get them back.”

The corner of Supervillain’s lips quirked up into a half smirk.

“So bold to assume, Villain.”

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” Villain challenged, taking a step forward. “If you’ve done somethi—”

Supervillain held up a hand to silence them, and Villain hated the way they cut themselves off. Supervillain lowered his hand to the button on his desk that Villain knew went straight to Right Hand.

The door opened not a moment later and Villain didn’t have to turn to know Right Hand was at the door. The snivelling little runt.

“Right Hand, could you show Villain to our guest, please?” Supervillain asked, not breaking eye contact with Villain. “And if they try anything, throw them in beside them.”

“Of course, sir,” Right Hand replied, a smile in his voice. “With pleasure.”

Villain glared at their father who smiled in return.

“Why?”

Supervillain shrugged. “I wanted to meet the Hero who turned my own flesh and blood against me.”

“You met them, now let them go,” Villain said, taking another step closer.

Supervillain tilted his head. “Are you asking or demanding?”

“Whichever gets Hero free faster,” Villain replied.

Supervillain said nothing for a beat. Instead his eyes just searched Villain’s face, for what Villain didn’t know. Answers?

“If you behave, we can discuss Hero’s release over dinner.”

Villain wanted to protest. They wanted to scream and shout, and shove Right Hand down the stairs just because, but they couldn’t. They couldn’t do anything because their stupid gun and knife were taken off them when they arrived and were sitting safely out of their hands.

They hated to admit it, but without them… Right Hand could probably beat them in a fight. Maybe not a battle of wits, but a physical scuffle… Villain was well and truly helpless.

Villain didn’t reply. They turned on their heel and shoulder checked Right Hand on the way out the door, walking towards the cells themself. They didn’t need Right Hand to escort them, they never did before.

This was their fucking house.

All they needed to do was descend to the cells to find Hero — their home.

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oliversrarebooks · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless

tw: forced drugging, restraints, medical whump, forced brain surgery, implied mind control, stun weapon

It was like hitting a brick wall.

One minute, Toshiro was slamming into henchman after henchman, taking them out at a speed faster than the human mind could comprehend. The next minute, his face was rapidly meeting the floor.

His ears were ringing, his vision blurring as his eyes threatened to close on him. His muscles were weak, and it was if someone had pulled the plug on the nerves connecting his brain to his body. The tile floor was cold against his cheek as he fell to the floor with an embarrassing thump, as gracefully as a sack of potatoes, and equally able to move.

Some kind of stun gun. Stunning... thing. Vibrations. His newly fogged mind tried to reason through the situation. He was in the middle of Dr. Moon's lair, and although he'd cut a wide swath through her armored goons and lab interns, he hadn't spotted the good doctor herself yet.

Which meant that this was probably all a trap, and he had obligingly raced into it at top speed.

Fuck. Whatever that weapon was had rendered him helpless. Unless he could recover quickly, he'd be screwed.

He struggled to regain his bearings through the dizziness, managing to force his weakened arms to push him up off the floor, when the low, strong vibrations racked his body again and knocked his tenuous grasp on control far away.

"Well, now, I'd call that experiment a rousing success," said a familiar and infuriatingly smug voice.

Toshiro struggled to focus on the clean white sneakers that stepped in front of his face. Dr. Moon crouched down in front of him, grabbing his chin and directing his blurred gaze into hers.

"Did you enjoy it as well?"

"Fffff..." Toshiro tried to get his mouth to cooperate enough to at least tell her to fuck off.

"Fantastic? Fabulous? Is that what you're trying to say? I think that's what you're trying to say," she said, nonchalantly snapping thick metal restraints on Toshiro's wrists.

Oh, this situation was getting better and better, wasn't it? He could probably use his supersonic vibration to break these cuffs, but it would take some time, and that was at full power, which he most certainly was not. He was still stunned enough that he felt like he might pass out at any moment.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands now, my dear little hero," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Katie, can you get my guest his little party favor?"

A young woman in a lab coat looked confused by the request. "Party favor...?"

Dr. Moon sighed. "The IV. I'm talking about the IV I had you prepare."

"Oh, yes!" she said. "Right away, doctor."

"And let's make him more comfortable! Can two of you get him onto the surgical table?"

"Yes, doctor."

IV drugs? Surgical table? Toshiro's blood ran cold. What the hell was she planning? Her experiments had roughed him up many a time, but she'd never done anything like this.

"Whaaaa..." he slurred pathetically, flopping like a dead fish as a couple of henchmen lifted him onto a padded table. He was still too numb and dazed to fight, and his window of escape seemed to rapidly be coming to a close. As a couple of scrawny scientists effortlessly held him down on the table -- humiliating enough that his embarrassment fought with his growing fear -- Katie returned with a large bag of translucent blue liquid on an IV pole.

"Oh, you're going to just love this, Toshiro," Dr. Moon said, brandishing the IV line's needle with theatrical flair. "You never get enough breaks, do you? I'm about to give you a nice long one."

Toshiro couldn't help his composure breaking slightly. It was one thing to be injured while fighting, or even to be captured and tortured. It was another thing entirely to be rendered unconscious, completely defenseless against whatever the mad scientist wanted to do with him.

"No need to look so upset. This won't hurt at all. You're just going to get very, very sleepy. You'll be just a bit drowsy and slow for the next, oh, let's say the next while. I wouldn't operate any heavy machinery."

She was bringing that IV needle closer to his elbow. He summoned all of his strength to try and pull away, knowing that as soon as he had that drug pumping into his body, it'd all be over. Unfortunately, his muscles were still largely unresponsive from the double stun just a few minutes ago.

Damn it, he had to -- !

The doctor effortlessly got the IV into his vein with a practiced hand, taping it down securely. He looked on in horror as the light blue liquid snaked down the tube and into his arm, willing the drug to somehow stop before it reached him. His arm felt cold and heavy at the injection site as the sedative began to flow freely into his system.

"That should kick in long before you get your bearings from my wonderful stun weapon," she said, stroking his cheek and looking down at him with malicious glee. "And I want to drink every last drop of your fear as you go under."

Toshiro glared as best as he could, testing his powers. Maybe if he could get his supersonic speed working, he could dislodge the IV from his elbow before he absorbed too much of the drug. His fast metabolism meant it took a lot to put him down, anyway.

He was already so groggy from being stunned, and so focused on forcing his uncooperative body to move, that he didn't even notice the buzzing in the back of his skull until it was too late. In seconds, the buzzing transformed into a deep drowsiness, muffling his thoughts like a blanket of fresh-fallen snow, draining him of energy, making his eyelids droop.

"And there it is!" said Dr. Moon with a cackle. "Isn't that the most delicious feeling of helplessness? You look so tired already. Don't fight it, now. Just let my beautiful drugs sing you to sleep. A nice little lullaby..."

Toshiro's efforts to try to shake the IV off had turned into a desperate struggle against the urge to give in and go to sleep. He was so exhausted, and he could feel his mind zoning in and out, his eyelids threatening to close. But he couldn't give in.

"Don't worry, you'll be sedated, but not entirely unconscious. We can't have you fully under for brain surgery, you know."

The shock of adrenaline forced his eyes back open. Fuck. Anything but that.

"No need to panic, it's not a lobotomy. We don't use ugly words like that here. And my methods are far more precise," she said, as Toshiro's heart raced. "I'm just going to... slow you down. Make you more malleable. Easily influenced, let's say. And at only a small cost to your intelligence."

His half-asleep mind woke up enough to panic. Suddenly, he could move. He felt strength in his arm again, enough strength to try and shake free of the IV line that would be the end of him.

He had to get it out at any cost. If he didn't, when he next woke up, he might be some stupefied henchman to his archnemesis, his faculties cut out and left on the floor of her lair. A fate far worse than death -- at least in death, he'd be remembered as a hero. Not remembered as a drooling, dull-witted minion who used to be a hero, cut down by one of his former comrades.

No, he couldn't allow that.

His powers responded, and he willed his super speed to vibrate his arm hard enough to loosen the tape, to dislodge the needle. As soon as he got rid of the threat of the drug, he could break free of the bonds and escape.

"Oh, dear," said Dr. Moon. "Katie, be a dear and take the fight out of our guest again."

Toshiro's eyes widened just before he felt the stun weapon rumble through his body. His hold over his power slipped, his limbs sinking back onto the table. Disoriented and unable to move, the sedative quickly took hold of him once again.

"There, there." The doctor replaced the tape on the IV line. "Just relax, go to sleep, and it will all be over soon. Poor, helpless hero."

He groaned weakly, Dr. Moon's evil grin fading from sight as his vision tunneled.

"He's almost out. Finish preparation in the operating room," she said over her shoulder, before turning back to him. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, running a hand through his hair. "If all goes well, you won't be waking up as yourself ever again," she cooed. "You're going to go to sleep, and I'm going to win."

Her voice sounded muffled, from far away, and his tongue was too thick and clumsy to respond back.

"Go to sleep. Just go to sleep..."

----

I've been struggling a bit with writing and the Febuwhump prompts looked delicious, so I decided to do a few of them!

New Bookseller chapter soon, promise.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday1 #helpless #whump #whump writing #superhero whump #medical whump #laboratory whump #drugged #sedation #capture

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maybeitsalivescribbles · 3 months

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Febuwhump 1) Helpless

(tw mentioned explosion )

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry !” chanted Superhero, their head buried into their shoulders.

“Sure you are,” groaned Hero. “You always are.”

Superhero wrung their fingers, glancing shyly at their friend on the ground:

“But it's true ! Every time ! Medics are on the way and everything. I just -”

“You just forgot, I know.”

Superhero blushed. Hero looked in pain and also very much done.

“That was just a tiny little explosion,” pleaded Superhero. “A tiny bitty one. And you were out of the house anyway -”

“I was not far enough. Would it have killed you to just warn me it was going to explode ? Because it nearly did the trick for me.”

“'I'm sorry ! But there wasn't anyone in the house but me so I didn't think it was this important. I – um, I kinda forgot it could hurt you all the same. I mean, so many things hurt you it's really hard to remember all of them and-”

“Oh, it must be such a bother to you ! What a burden you must bear ! Newsflash: when someone is too close from an explosion, they can feel like they were set in fire even if they're not caught in it, and they can have the burns to show for it. You're lucky I'm able to heal ! I would punch you, but -”

“I could pretend I could feel pain if you want me too,” sheepishly proposed Superhero. “If that can make you feel better.”

Hero turned their eyes away:

“Nah, I'll pass.”

They sighed:

“Look, we'll try again. But it's going the last time, okay ? If you forget one more time a “tiny” detail like this, I'll get a new partner.”

“Y-Yes, okay. Thank you.”

Hero groaned and said nothing. When the medics arrived, they were passed out since a while.

“What happened ?” asked a doctor.

“A house exploded behind them.”

“From this distance ?”

“They can heal.”

“And that's a very good thing they can, too. They're lucky they're still alive.”

Superhero winced, and the doctor caught their expression.

“Are you okay ? Where were you when it happened ?”

“I was in the house, but my body can't be damaged. I don't need to feel physical pain. Walking in an explosion is like...I don't know...it's like walking in a carbonated beverage for me. It's fuzzy. It's not unpleasant.”

“You don't look all right to me. How do you really feel ?”

Superhero looked at the inanimate silhouette of his friend and answered:

“Helpless.”

Back to Whump/Horror Masterlist, or to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #whump #whump community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #my writing #writing snippet #writing drabble #writing dialogue #creative writing #villain and hero #hero and villain #hero villain community #febuwhumpday1 #hero x villain #hero x superhero

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rebelwriter99 · 3 months

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I have begun a thing!

I am daft and will be attempting @febuwhump 2024!

Here is me having a go at Day 1: Helpless. Yes it got finished late-in my humble defense I got diagnosed with hEDS after 6yrs today. My brain has been busy 😅

And so I’ve finally posted a fic in the Marauders fandom on AO3!

This one was loosely inspired by @industrations stunningly adorable and moderately heartbreaking black brothers art. (Here. Gaze at it and weep. I did and then wrote about 2,500 words about it apparently)

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday1 #the black brothers #sirius black #regulus black #wolfstar #(it’s blink and you’ll miss it but I couldn’t help myself)#the ancient and most noble house of black #mind the tags

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kybercrystals94 · 3 months

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But She Still Cries

Read here on AO3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 1 | Prompt 1: Helpless

Rating: G

Words: 350

Summary: Omega tries to comfort Crosshair…Crosshair doesn’t know how to do the same. (Character Focus: Crosshair, Omega)

Omega is waiting by the door when they return him to the cell. She doesn’t say anything when she wraps an arm around his waist and accepts his weight when he leans against her a little too heavily. They stumble to the cot, and Crosshair sits down with a sigh that wheezes out like a whine.

“Do you want water?” she asks.

Crosshair shakes his head.

“Okay,” Omega says. She sits down next to him, presses into his arm, takes his hand in hers and twines their fingers together. “Do you want to hear another story?”

Crosshair doesn’t respond, but he grips her hand. It is answer enough.

Omega tells the story about Tech winning the pod race. Details like names and places are omitted, their absence replaced with lies obvious to Crosshair, but confusing to anyone who is listening in. Omega embellishes with laughably exaggerated details — a skill she learned from Wrecker undoubtedly.

Crosshair listens, eyes closed, heart broken. It is strange, listening to memories of his brothers that he does not share, from a person – a sister – he does not know. While she is chronologically older than him, biologically, she is much younger, a child. A being that should be cared for and comforted; and yet, since her arrival in his cell, she has taken the role of nurturer. It feels wrong, but he accepts it, telling himself that it is for her benefit. Obviously, feeling useful keeps her calm. She doesn’t cry as much since he’s relented to being coddled.

But she still cries.

Like now.

Her story cuts off sharply, and she takes a shuddering breath. Her hold on Crosshair’s hand tightens. “I miss them.”

Crosshair is exhausted and pained, every muscle protesting movement. Even his mind aches, a throbbing pulse. He doesn’t know what to say or do that would bring her solace, because, really, there is nothing he can offer. Not when his decisions put them here.

“My heart hurts,” Omega whispers, voice shaky.

Crosshair recognizes the affliction with excruciating clarity, the tight fist of loss and regret.

And there’s nothing he can do.

END

A/N: I am absolutely ecstatic to start Febuwhump 2024! Most of the stories will be TBB themed; however, I might toss some TCW stories in the ring for your consideration.

✨Let me know if you’d like to be on my taglist! ✨

Taglist: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424

#Febuwhump #febuwhumpday1 #febuwhump 2024 #Prompt 1: Helpless #The Bad Batch #Star Wars the Bad Batch #Star Wars #TBB #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #TBB Crosshair #TBB Omega #Whump #I know that season three is going to totally throw this story out of the canon and into AU territory #stories by Kyber #fics by kyber

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whumpinthepot · 3 months

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@febuwhump 2024

Day 1. Helpless

—

Dialogue prompts:

“I hate feeling so helpless.”

“You’re not helpless, get up.”

“Stop acting so helpless.”

“You’re so fucking helpless. C’mon. Get up.”

“I was helpless to stop them.”

“You’re not as helpless as you think you are.”

“You’re helpless, you know that?”

“You’re helpless to do anything.”

“Seeing you so helpless like that excites me.”

“How could you do that to someone so helpless?”

“Leave that helpless person alone!”

“I want them helpless and begging.”

“So you’re saying I’m helpless to do anything?”

“Ohh, you poor helpless little thing.”

“How helpless are you, really?”

“You helpless piece of shit.”

“Pretend you’re helpless to get close to them.”

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #dialogue prompts #whump prompt #breezys post #whump event #febuwhumpday1 #febuwhump helpless

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 3 months

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Febuwhump 2024 Day 1 — Helplessness

Time wished he’d listened to his gut.

A portal had dropped them off in Hyrule’s Hyrule that afternoon. It was a blighted land—wilted grass and trees, a dark sky, riverbeds empty of both fish and water. There wasn’t any civilization nearby, at least none that Hyrule disclosed, so the rest of the boys grumbled underneath the baking heat of the sun and slapped at mosquitos—the only thing that seemed to live in this particular section of the wasteland that was Hyrule—as Hyrule led them on towards “somewhere they could find some shelter until they figured out where they were going.” Time looked over them all, counting heads: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, himself making nine.

It had been a hard day—a hard week. Running from hordes too large and too dangerous to fight, little injuries and little arguments that piled on and on until all of the boys seemed like they’d shatter underneath them. Wild and Twilight walked apart, some spat about dinner the night before driving them away from one another. Legend hung at the back of the group, brooding over something Hyrule had said when they’d been first dropped into this world. Four seemed lost inside his head, so much so that Time had to occasionally prod at his back to keep him from going off of the trail or falling behind. Each time he just mumbled, swiped at his eyes, and corrected his course until he went off it once again. Sky’s near-permanent smile was absent from his face, and his expression was twisted into a tight frown. Even Wind and Warrior were silent, their usual banter absent from the air that seemed to drone and drone in a high-pitched whine. They'd all had a fight earlier that day, one that Time had stepped out just in time to miss, but it left the atmosphere tense and bitter.

As they walked, they were given a reprieve from the sun by dark clouds that rolled in from the south. Some of them seemed relieved; others, Legend particularly, flinched at the first frigid raindrops and the rumble of thunder in the distance. Time noted it.

“We’re close,” Hyrule promised. “Just a few more minutes out, and we can all take it easy for the night.”

“Where are we going, anyways?” Legend snapped from the back of the group. “We’ve been walking forever, and there’s still not a building in sight. Gonna park us under a tree or something? Got nothing better out here?”

“No, no.” Hyrule let out a little strained chuckle, like he was trying to play it off like a joke, but it was clear that the jab had cut him deeply. Time shot a disapproving glare at Legend, but he just rolled his eyes and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a cave ahead we can stay in while we wait for the storm to pass.”

“Cave?” some of the travelers sounded dubious.

“Yeah, just a cave, not some dungeon. I’ve stayed there many times—it’s perfectly safe, unless we run into some rogue Keese.”

Even that sounded like too much to deal with. But the rest of the boys’ protests petered off under the strengthening rain, and they trudged in miserable silence, scarves and sailcloths and cloaks held over their heads, until they reached the cave—a dark opening in a cliffside. As predicted, a few keese flew out to confront them, hissing and flapping their wings so loudly there seemed to be millions of them instead of just a few in an enclosed area. The boys dealt with them, then ducked into the dry cavern, complaining of aching joints and wet clothes as they started a fire and set down their equipment.

It was a convenient cave. Almost too convenient.

“When were you here, Hyrule?” Time asked, standing in the mouth of the cave as he did another headcount. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Good. “You know this place well?”

“Oh, just here and there,” Hyrule answered, looking up from setting out his bedroll. Time couldn’t help but notice that he and Legend had set up on opposite sides of the cave, as had Twilight and Wild, as had Warrior and Wind. Time would have to talk to each pair. But tomorrow. “It’s perfectly safe. There’s even an air draft up that a way, so if something did happen to block the opening, we can all still get out.”

If only that had been true.

That night, they all settled down to sleep, and it was peaceful for the first time in days. Unnaturally so. Time took first watch, and he sat facing the opening of the cave as his boys snored. Some of them, at least. Legend’s eyes shone from the opposite side of the cavern, and he seemed to get smaller with each concurrent flash of lighting, followed by an earth shattering peal of thunder. It was getting rough out there.

With the next rumble of thunder, Time stood and crossed to Legend’s side of the cave. The boy didn’t look up at him, so Time didn’t say anything as he lowered himself down next to him with a groan. Wind or Wild or Hyrule he could’ve broken with a simple “are you all right?” Sky or Warrior or Twilight or Four would’ve cracked under whatever horrible pun he managed to come up with in the moment. But this was Legend, so Time sat, and he waited for him to be the first to speak.

“They’re all just a bunch of kids, you know?” Legend mumbled into his knees at last.

“I know,” Time answered, because there was nothing else to say. They were, to Hylian standards, all still children.

“And I know that, and I still get surprised when they act like it. Wild was picking at Hyrule for not knowing how to read, and Wind joined in, and I just lost it on them. If you want to know what happened earlier,” Legend offered up. “Pissed Twilight off for yelling at his kid, and Warrior scolded the rest, and now everybody is mad at each other, apparently.” He buried his face into his knees, hugging his arms around his shins. “How do you do it? I just seem to treat them like they’re fully functioning human beings when they’re just little shits.”

“It’s an art.” Time said, “Doubt I would have found that balance without Malon. You know you aren’t much older than them yourself, you don’t have to be a leader.”

Legend looked like he was going to scoff and launch into some tirade about responsibility and the number of his quests, but a peal of thunder that seemed to shake the whole world cut him off. Instead he chuckled drily, dragging a hand up through his bangs. “Yeah, I guess… I just... this world and all... I'm supposed to be the hero before Hyrule... but..;”

The thunder was still rumbling, growing louder and louder, shaking the walls and the very air itself. Time and Legend looked at one another with wide eyes, realizing what was happening at the same time—an earthquake.

“Boys, get up!” Time shot to his feet, clapping his hands. Heads raised blearily, some of the travelers reached for their weapons. “We’ve gotta get out of—”

The ceiling exploded. Rocks fell down onto their fire, dust clouded the air, and everything was cast into darkness.

Screams followed Time into the darkness.

When he woke up sometime later, it was quiet, so quiet.

It was dark. For a moment, Time couldn’t tell if he’d opened his eye or not, met with such an inky blackness as he was. He blinked a few times, then, groaning, tried to raise a hand to wipe at his eyes. He couldn’t—it was stuck firmly at his side, weighed down by something pressing against his back.

Time furrowed his brow, closing his eye to think. His thoughts felt sluggish, dragging through molasses to reach him. There had been… a cave in? The boys had been situated towards the center of the cavern, sleeping soundly through even the largest peals of thunder outside. They hadn’t even been able to stand before the ceiling caved in. Legend… Legend had been just to his right, hadn’t he?

Time tried to draw a breath to call out to him, but something in his chest caught painfully, and he choked. He tried to move, but found that he couldn’t—his left side seemed to be pinned down to the floor of the cavern, and he realized then that he could feel nothing, nothing at all, on that side of his body. Not pain, not cold, not even pins and needles. The absence of half of his body unnerved him. He still had feeling in his right arm, though, and he could move it. Gasping shallowly for air, he grasped blindly with it, feeling around his surroundings blindly. Rock below him, rock to his left—had he been hit by a falling boulder? He’d still been wearing his armor, when the cave-in occurred. Had his armor protected him, and he was merely pinned? Or had the weight turned the metal of it into a weapon against him, which was why he couldn’t feel his own body? Finally, his fingers hit the soft texture fabric.

“Legend?” Time managed to draw enough breath to wheeze. There was no response. He gripped onto the fabric and pulled. “Legend!”

A hacking cough—the most blessed sound Time thought he’d ever heard—filled the air, and then that fabric pulled out of his grasp.

“Time?” Legend’s voice asked. “Time, where are you? What happened?”

“Down here.” Time shifted with a breathless groan, testing how trapped he was. Little bits of debris spilled down onto his head, clattering against the stone floor. He stopped moving before he brought whatever was holding up the rest of the cave. “I’m a bit… indisposed, at the moment.”

Legend gave a little inhale. It seemed so loud in the small place they were trapped in. “Is everyone else okay?”

Time… didn’t know. He went back in his mind to where everyone had been positioned, before the ceiling fell. Wild and Wind had been on the far side of the cave, sulking after their respective scoldings, apparently. Hyrule had been curled up near the back of the cave, his back turned to the fire. Twilight and Warrior and Sky each had been around the fire, dealing with their armor and swords. Four… he didn’t remember where Four had been. Why couldn’t he remember where Four had been.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine with himself sitting with Legend on the near side of the cave. Now reduced to two.

“GUYS!” Legend called. The sound reverberated around the tiny space they were in, making Time’s ears ring. “GUYS! Rulie? Warrior! Can anyone hear us? Are you guys okay?”

In the wake of his shout, stifling silence fell. No one called back.

“They… maybe they… got out,” Time managed to gasp out, though he didn’t believe it. It was getting harder to breath, and his side was starting to hurt now, with pins and needles so fierce that they made his teeth chatter. “Do you… do you have… have anything? A light… or… or something.”

“No, no, I don’t.” Legend sounded so small. “It was all on the other side of the cave, with the rest of my stuff. D-do you?”

“Same… same situation here… I’m afraid.” Time swallowed with difficulty. “I think… I think we’re going… going to have to wait for rescue.” The sentence left him completely out of breath, and he struggled to regain it. His own breathing seemed so loud in the small area they were trapped in.

“No, no no no no.” Time heard Legend’s breath speed up as he started to hyperventilate. “We can’t be trapped here, there must be something we can do, we have to make sure that the others are okay, if we just…”

He heard fabric shift as Legend stood, then a curse as he apparently hit the ceiling of their stone prison. Time just focused on nothing other than breathing. He could feel some sort of metallic liquid pooling in the back of his throat, and he determinedly swallowed it back down without giving it another thought.

“What if the others aren’t okay? What if they’re trapped too. What if some of them were killed? Time, we’ve gotta get out of here.” Legend paced and paced around their stone prison, growing more and more frantic. But eventually, he ran out of energy, and he collapsed back down to his starting position by Time’s head. “Are you okay? I-I can't see you.”

“I’m fine, don’t—” a wet cough interrupted him, and his mouth suddenly tasted coppery. He spat out the taste. “Don’t worry about me,” Time finished vaguely. It was a lie, they both knew it. “Just… just pinned.”

“O–okay. Time, I don’t know what to do. There has to be something that we can do, isn’t there?”

Time didn’t answer, and they didn’t speak to one another again. The silence was deafening, the air thin, the darkness all-consuming. Time was suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness to help his boys he knew must also be trapped. So he laid his head down, listening for any sign of life, and he prayed they were all right.

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #cheetowrites #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday1 #febuwhump #linked universe fanfiction

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