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#no.4
bumblingdragon · 7 months
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Whumptober - day 4 - Cattle Prod
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jasmines-library · 7 months
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Tried and True
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WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY FOUR: Prompt - Hiding an injury.
Fandom: Batfam/DC/Young Justice
Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor. Warnings: Bullet wound, blood loss, near death experience, surgery, cursing. Word count: 2.8k Note: I'm super excited about this one. That's all i'm gonna say :)
MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
Bane fired three shots down the alleyway. They ricocheted off the bricks, clattering to the ground with a metallic ping. Dick Grayson hid crouched behind the lip of a building overlooking the alleyway, his mask pulled tight over his face. He watched with cautious eyes, surveying the villain before him. You were hunched over on the opposite side of the street dual daggers pressed firmly into the palm of your clammy hands. Damian and Jason lingered nearby, Tim opted to survey with his older brother. He had his bo staff hooked under his arm, ready to draw back and swing at any second. 
“I know you’re out there little birdies.” Bane sung, drawing out his steps as he paced the length of the alley. “Why don’t you come out for a little chat?”
He fired another round of bullets, this time up into the sky. Your little brother cast a look at you from your left, you held out a warning hand.
“Nightwing?” You asked into the coms quietly, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Even though Bane was outnumbered 5-1, he was still extremely powerful and if he caught one of you off guard, you would be in some deep shit. 
“We need to wait until he gets to the end of the alley. There’s a fork. We can flank him from both sides.”
The five of you watched intently as he walked, monotonously slow. When he was a mere few steps away from the end of the alley, Nightwing gave the signal and the five of you sprang into action, disguised and protected by the thick plating of your vigilante suits each specified to fit your needs. 
Landing roughly on your feet, you jumped from the building, reading your daggers in front of you. Your brothers formed a circle besides you, trapping bane between the three exits. He grinned manically.
“Finally! I thought I was going to miss out on all the fun.” 
He hoisted his gun up onto his shoulder and eyed the five of you up. The look on his face was mad; cynical. His eyes glistened beneath his mask as they settled on Robin. He fired, releasing a fresh wave of bullets, but the youngest was small and quick enough to slip away, behind a crate. 
With his back turned, Red Robin took his chance to make a move on Bane. He swung his staff in an arc, swiping at the giant's feet in an attempt to knock him to the ground. He wobbled, but spun around and knocked him out of the way, sending him flying into a nearby pile of junk.
“Red!?” You called out through the coms.
There was static as he shuffled around, coughing slightly as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out from him. “All good.”
You moved next, Robin at your side. Using the walls, you propelled yourself towards Bane, trying to swing your dagger and lodge it anywhere on his exposed chest, only to have to skid across the floor as he swung his arm out to hit you. Although you weren’t successful, Robin had managed to get in a well placed slice along Bane’s torso. He had been aiming for the thick tubes which pumped him full of venom, but he wasn’t so successful. 
The five of you went many rounds with Bane, swinging, slicing and dodging as you tried to get the upper hand on the giant man. Though despite being outnumbered, he had still managed to get his own in on the five vigilanties. Red Hood was suffering a twisted ankle, and Robin had a trickle of blood running down the side of his temple where Bane had managed to strike him.
“Raven!” Nightwing hollered “Flank left.”
You retreated back round the alley with your eldest brother, twisting and navigating in the dinginess to flank him from his other side. When you returned, he had Tim pinned up against a wall, gasping for air and flailing, his feet struggling to scrape against the floor. You picked up your pace, feet slapping against the concrete. You swung, leaping high into the air and bringing your daggers down in a large sweeping motion, it lodged itself in one of Bane’s tubes, staunching the flow of venom pumping into his veins. You rolled across the ground and onto your feet, skidding against the asphalt as you dodged another swing that caught Robin instead. Nightwing was suddenly flanking from Bane’s otherside, cutting off the rest of the venom’s flow. Pulling Robin to his feet, he raised his katana.
With a signal from your brother cracking out over the coms, you gripped your daggers tighter, shifting them into a more comfortable grip in front of you. The humming of Dicks escrima sticks filled the alley. There was a beat, then you all charged, using bane’s weakness to your advantage. He took a large slice across his abdomen and a shock to his body. He roared, releasing a round of bullets into the brick. Dropping like a sack of flour the five of you pressed your body to the ground, trying to dodge the lethal pieces of metal he flung your way. And that was when you felt it, a raw indescribable pain that radiated across your body above your right hip. You stifled a cry, biting your lip beneath the cover of your mask. Your breath shuddered as you rose, trying to ignore the dark red patch that bloomed across the front of your suit. You readied your daggers, trying to conceal the wound with your arm. You were hoping that the cover of the darkness would help disguise it from your brothers. 
From his place on the ground, Jason fired at bane, distracting him from Tim, who swung his bo staff again at his feet, this time bringing him to the ground. Stepping forwards,you pressed your dagger to his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get the message across. He howled and grunted as Nightwing and Red Hood made quick work of securing him with rope they had stored on their suits, then delivering a quick blow to his head to render the giant unconscious. 
Nightwing took a step back and sighed, dropping his twin fighting sticks to the ground. “Is everyone ok?”
There was a chortle of agreement between the comms. You sheathed your daggers in the hosters at your hip, groaning as your fingers brushed against the pulsating wound. 
“Call B, tell him we have Bane.”
“Copy.” You said, flicking through the channels on the comms to call your father. He answered gruffly, signifying that he would be on his way on his way over as soon as he could. You heard the rumble of the batmobile in the background. 
“B’s on his way.” You told your brothers, changing the coms back. “He’ll be here soon.”
You glanced down at your stomach, still oozing blood, crossing his arms in front of you, trying to hide the growing patch and keep some pressure on it. You could feel the warm, stickiness against your skin clinging to the fabric of your suit. You couldn’t feel the exit wound, piercing the back of your flesh. Just the thought of the bullet still lodged inside of you made the pain worsen tenfold. You just had to hope that you would get back to the manor in time to stitch yourself up. 
~~~
Left, Right. Left, Right.
You had never been more glad to see the silhouette of the wayne manor, illuminated by the lights from the many windows that had been left on whilst you were out on patrol. You were trudging back slowly with your brothers after finishing up on patrol and ensuring that The Bat had bane secured and was taking him to Arkham. Your steps had grown sluggish, your vision doubled and your breaths uneven as you tried to keep up pace with your brothers, only to end up falling behind anyway. Your whole body ached, but nothing compared to the stabbing pain near your hip. You pulled your hand away from where you had been discreetly keeping pressure on it. Your head spun as you took in the sight of the blood dousing your hands. 
Left, Right…
Not much further now. You told yourself as you forced your body to keep pressing forwards. Home was so close but felt so so far away. You made your shaky legs push on, but with your hazy vision you swayed on your feet. 
Dick turned around, noticing your absence besides him. 
“Raven?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. His panicked tone alerted the rest of the boys. 
You were leaning on a nearby fence, trying to regain your composure.
“I- I’m fine. I just need-” 
Left…
Your body gave out beneath you as you tried to push yourself away from the wall, you were swallowed by a blinding pain; hot and inflamed as you collapsed in on yourself. Jason, the closest to you, rushed forwards before your body could collide with the hard asphalt. He laid you down tenderly so that your head was lying down on his lap. Dick was by your side patting down your body for the hidden injury, followed quickly by the other two.“Raven?” Damien stared at you with wide eyes. 
“Shit.” Dick cursed when his hand skimmed the tear in your suit, pulling it back with his fingers coaxed in your blood. 
You cried out in pain, eyes flying wide. 
Damien gripped your hand tightly, wincing at your pained expression when Jason hastily tore your mask away. He wiped away the tears which stained your cheeks. 
“AH!” Your face twisted when Dick ripped apart the fabric of your suit to get a better look at the wound; circular and ugly, only around the size of a penny, but it was already an angry shade of scarlet and was leaking more blood than you though you had in your body. The fabric which had matted with your blood tugged at your skin. You squeezed Damian’s hand tightly.
“R, what happened?” 
“...Shot.” You forced out. 
Jason reached around the back of your suit searching for an exit wound then cursing loudly when he failed to find one. “It’s still in there.”
Dick cursed. “Okay. Tim?”
The boy looked up meekly. 
“Grab the emergency pack, we’ll need tweezers, bandages. Something for the pain.”
“On it.”
“Damien? Call Alfred, tell him we need help, stat.”
Hesitantly, the Wayne let go of your hands and scrambled to get his phone. Tim was rushing back over with the supplies. 
“Y/N? This is going to hurt okay?”
You nodded feebly, head lolling around in Jason’s lap. 
“Hood, keep her awake.”
Jason took your head in his hands and angled it up to face him. Your eyes were fluttering closed.
“Hey, look at me, keep ‘em open kid.”
Your eyes opened in fraction as you listened to your older brother's words, though you were in a pained daze, only registering the pain in your side.
They would never forget the inhuman scream that pushed its way past your lips as Dick dig the tweezers into the wound. The pain was indescribable as your fingers clawed against the ground. You writhed in Jason’s hold, squirming away from the onslaught of pain. Dick cringed. 
“Tim, keep her still.”
His hands were like cold vices on your arms as he pinned you down, trying to keep you still as his older brother rummaged through your body. Your screams had morphed into horse shouts by the time he finally got the bullet out. But then came the burst of agony as he pushed his hands down as hard as he could on your wound. You whimpered.
“I know. I know Y/N I’m sorry.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you began to lose a grip on consciousness. Black dots danced in your vision.
“Hey. Stay with us!” Tim patted your face. “We need to move fast.
Jason leaned you up against his chest so his brothers could wrap the bandages tightly around your stomach. Damien had returned, informing them that Alfred was on his way. Once the bandages were secured, you were laid back down in Jason's chest, eyes fluttering. Damien returned to holding your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the flat of your hand. 
“Stay awake, Raven. Talk to us.” Tim prompted.
You were silent for a horrifying moment, before muttering out a few words. “...I’m sorry.”
“No. None of that. You’re gonna be fine.”
“I love you all.”
Your breaths were becoming shallower and you struggled to get the air you needed into your lungs. The black spots began to take over your vision. 
“We love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”
You hummed contently. Your body had begun to go numb. 
A dear ran down Damien’s cheek. You reached up to wipe it away as your older brother had done to you mere minutes ago.
“It’s okay.” You hushed. “It doesn’t hurt bad anymore.”
The two eldest vigilantes swallowed thickly, sharing a wide eyed glance between each other. That was when Alfred turned up, and the next minutes went by in a blur. The boys could do nothing more than watch as they whisked you away into surgery, praying that you would pull through. 
~~~
Dick watched as you began to stir. Your face twitched and you shifted uncomfortably. He had his much larger hand wrapped around yours, and had done for a few hours, insisting that he stay with you. You were his baby sister after all. Bruce had tried to send the other to bed, but like Dick, Jason had insisted that he should be allowed to watch over you too. Bruce was about to protest, but he couldn’t dismiss the distraught look plastered on Jason’s face. He had no doubt that the youngest two were lingering around somewhere, minds too full of opposing thoughts to let them succumb to the sleep that their bodies begged them for. Damian had kept trying to sneak in before being dragged away by Bruce. 
The room had been silent for a few hours as they watched your chest rise and fall. The surgery had been hard on your body, and for a while no one was sure that you were going to pull through. Albeit there you were lying pale but showing signs of waking up, on your bed.
  Alfred and Bruce were frequently in and out of your room where you lay hooked up to all sorts of machines that made Jason cringe. His head was resting on the side of your bed by the hand that Dick wasn’t nursing. His eyes had begun to droop shut as the early hours of the day crept around, when you shifted the let out a pained whimper. When he turned his head, he was greeted by your striking eyes. 
He scrambled off of the floor and into the chair that had been pulled up by your bed. “Y/N? Hey.”
“Boys?” You blinked, your head still groggy from the anaesthesia.
The eldest boy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah kiddo. We’re here.”
Trying to sit up, the tug on your stitches elicited another cry of pain. Instinctively, both boys helped you sit up. 
“Take it easy, little bat.” Dick told you as you gingerly pushed back the sheets. Your hip was bound tightly in a white bandage. “He got you good.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jay pressed. “You could have…”
“I-”
You were cut off by the sound of the door shuddering open and a pair of your ‘not so little anymore’ brothers' heads peeking around it. They were hesitant, glancing around the room until you gave them a gentle smile.
“Y/N,” Damian rushed into the room, wrapping you tightly into a hug. 
“Hey Dami.” You murmured into his ear. 
He was suddenly ripped away from you by a grinning Tim who chided “Hey, be careful with her, you demon spawn. It’s my turn.”
You chuckled as he pulled you desperately into his arms.
“I’m so glad you’re okay Y/N/N. I was so scared.”
You frowned, hoarse voice breaking as you spoke. “I’m sorry-”
“Damian.” A haggard voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. It was followed by a pair of heavy set shoes. “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed-”
Bruce stopped abruptly at the sight of his children crowded before him. His eyes were clad with dark bags and his hair was unkempt on his head. 
“Hi Dad.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. Pushing past his sons, he was at your side in less than a second. 
And that was when the reality of the whole situation hit you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.
“Dad. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”
“Shh.” He hushed. “This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault but Bane’s.”
“But-”
“Listen to the old man for once little bat. All that matters is that everyone is still together.”
🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸
<- DAY THREE ⛤ DAY FIVE ->
🏷️ Taglist:
@senjoritanana
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WHUMPTOBER 2022 - DAY 4 - Dead on Your Feet
You know Kingscholar is very ill when he doesn’t resist your attempts to get him sitting down before he topples over onto his face.
-NO ROMANCE INCLUDED-
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cyberwhumper · 7 months
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It had been a few hours since they strung him up from the rusted metal pillars of the old warehouse. At first Whiskey had tried to stand on his own despite the unbearable pain on his ankle, screaming and taunting and calling them every swear word in the book.
As the minutes ticked into hours, however, that veneer of bravado slowly decayed until there was only exhaustion and pain left. He's too proud to beg, but it's clear he's faltering. By the time Baxter finally arrived, he was unconscious.
"Did I miss all the fun?" He laughs, tosses his jacket aside in a show of excitement. A balled fist connects straight to his captive's broken ribs. The lack of response makes him try again, kicking the compromised ankle out from under him. No response either.
Before he can escalate the behavior, Baxter is interrupted by a smug looking man. Joseph.
"Might wanna cut it out for a sec there, Bax. Not worth spending all your energy just yet."
"He in there?"
"Hard to say. The lights are on but…seems like no one's home. If he's lucky he won't wake up again."
Lucky. Joseph thinks the mutt is lucky. What a joke. How's that been working out for him?
"He'll wake up. Might as well give him something nice to wake up to, don'tcha think?"
Another punch connects.
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whumpneto · 7 months
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Whumptober 2023 - No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
Milo Ventimiglia as Peter Petrelli in Heroes (S03E14)
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aceofwhump · 7 months
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Day 4: Cattle Prod
Agents of Shield 6x02 | Dark Matter 1x04 | Werewolf by Night | The Mentalist 3x08 | Forever 1x08 | Legends of Tomorrow 3x16 | Burn Notice 6x11 | Hawaii Five-0 2x10 | The Rookie 1x16 | Teen Wolf 1x05 | Titans 1x07
@whumptober @whumptober-archive
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nade2308 · 7 months
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I was thinking long and hard about what to do for today's theme. Ultimately I decided on the parallels between Julia and Ilsa bringing Ethan back to life by having to shock him with electricity. These two moments give me feels.
@thethistlegirl
@whumptober
AO3 link here
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celtic-crossbow · 7 months
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Whumptober 2023
No. 4 Shock | No. 7 “Can You Hear Me?”
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (Platonic/Early Relationship)
Setting: Post farm / Pre prison
Warnings: Electric shock, blood, CPR
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“M’gonna check the fence.”
“I’ll get the generator.”
It was a safe enough place to make camp. It was freezing, snow coming down in large flakes to stick to the couple of inches already on the ground. Being inside a building was already a blessing but with a fence around it? You couldn’t ask for more! 
The few vehicles left to your group were unloaded, everyone else was inside getting set up. You opted to stay close to Daryl, as you often did. Sometimes, he seemed annoyed. Other times, indifferent. But since the fall of the farm, you found that he didn’t seem to mind your company. Hell, he had even sought you out the nights you had watch. Conversation was always light, but the silence in between became comfortable. The man didn’t sleep much, but when he did, he opted to sleep close to the group so that he was near you. 
It wasn’t until he started putting his arm around you on cold nights, pulling you back against his chest, that you began to question exactly where you stood with him. Friendship was one thing. That was an entirely different animal. Not that you were opposed. Simply confused. Even more so, when it became a common occurrence. 
There wasn’t much you could do right now to help. Staying out of the way, hovering somewhere between Rick and the archer, was probably the best option. You began to check out the treeline, eyes peeled for any signs of danger, living or dead. Thankfully, it was quiet. You felt like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
Glancing down at Daryl, he was pulling on sections of the fence, checking their integrity. It seemed like a kind of heavy wire, not chainlink. If it kept out walkers and unsavory characters for the night, it could have been made of playdough for all you cared. 
A glance back to where Rick worked found him studying the generator. There was barely enough light of day left for him to see without a flashlight. Maybe you should offer yours. You let the idea move about uselessly in your head while your eyes curiously followed some of the cables from behind the generator. Strange. What was out here that needed power? 
The generator was sputtering when you found the metal clips at the end, your brow furrowed. They were attached to the fence. That didn’t make— ‘Oh, shit!’
Y/N, meet other shoe. 
“Daryl, let go!” You cried as the noise from the generator spurred to life, your eyes filled with horror just as the archer turned his head toward your call, both hands on the wire. There was a loud sound, like one of those lights meant to fry mosquitos but amplified. Your feet were already moving before Daryl had hit the ground, tendrils of smoke rising from his clothes. 
“Oh my god, Daryl! Daryl, can you hear me?” His eyes were closed. Small streams of red filtered from his nose and— oh, god — his ears. His palms were burned, charred and smoking from his grip on the fence, while smaller burns were scattered across parts of his skin that you could see. You didn’t know if you should touch him. Your knowledge of anything medical was limited to smacking someone on the back if they were choking. What help could you be now? “Rick!”
The ex-sheriff was already stumbling onto his knees beside you, nervously assessing the situation. You heard the door open, the others obviously hearing your cries. “What’s going on?” Hershel. Yes! Yes, you needed Hershel!
“Fence. Daryl. Shocked.” You stammered, not making much sense but the old man was jogging over anyway. 
“He’s not breathing.” Rick muttered, mostly to himself, with a haunted, panicked glaze over his eyes that you were slowly coming to know very well. He lifted Daryl to remove the crossbow from his back. It’s a wonder the thing wasn’t broken from the impact. Maybe it was. Hershel and Rick moved as if they could read each other’s thoughts. The veterinarian began chest compressions, halting only long enough for Rick to force air into the archer’s lungs with a trembling hand pinching his nose shut. 
Everyone had moved closer but kept distance to let the men do what was needed. Except Carol. Through her own tears, she wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you to your feet. 
“No.” You mumbled quietly at first, shaking your head before pulling against her to get back to Daryl’s side. “No! Daryl! Daryl!”
“They’re trying to help him!” The older woman reasoned, spinning you so that your cheek was pressed against the front of her shoulder. You could barely see through your tears but Rick was shouting in frustration, and Hershel kept shaking his head. “It’s okay.” Carol whispered. Her fingers carded through your hair but offered little comfort. 
“Daryl.” You whimpered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. 
A loud, wheezing inhale came from the ground, followed by a series of coughs. It was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. 
“Glad you’re back,” you heard Rick practically gasp the words, his tense posture relaxing a little. Hershel slumped in exhaustion but it gave you a glimpse of Daryl. He was pale, drawing in quick breaths, and had yet to move. 
“Think… fence s’good.”
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In all your time with your little apocalypse family, you had never seen Daryl sleep as deeply as he was now. It had only been a few hours since the incident, but the image of him, unmoving, was trapped at the forefront of your mind. Everyone was asleep, aside from T-Dog being on watch by the door. The room was warm, the small fireplace enough to keep a little heat going even as the flames burned lower. 
You sat next to where they had placed the archer, giving him the only bed in the building. He protested that Lori should have it, of course, being pregnant and all, but even she had insisted. Exhausted from the trauma, he had fallen asleep soon after Hershel had done his initial checks for early signs of nerve damage or any heart abnormalities. His palms were wrapped heavily, having received the worst of the burns. Dried blood was still beneath his nose and ears, but that could be dealt with later. Gauze covered the other burns on his arms and neck. You were instructed on how to check his pulse and what to watch for while he rested. 
“Ya ain’t tired?”
Your eyes had been glued to the rise and fall of his chest, so engrossed that you hadn’t noticed his eyes open. Those pretty, pretty blue eyes. 
“No, I’m, uh…I’m good.” You sniffled and moved forward to the edge of the chair, reaching for his wrist. He flinched but didn’t pull back as he would have only a few months before. “Just checking your pulse.” He gave an almost imperceptible nod, eyes slipping closed. Satisfied, you sat back and rubbed a hand over your face. You really were exhausted but letting someone else watch over him wasn’t an option.
“Y’alrigh’?” His eyes were still closed. He must’ve picked up on your uneven breaths or the tap of your foot. Clever jerk. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you feeling?”
“Like a human Pop-tart.” He turned his head toward you, eyelids heavy and expression pinched. He was in pain, though he’d never admit it. Hershel had left some Tylenol but you’d have to wrestle him to get him to take it. 
Still…
“Hershel left—”
“Don’ need it.”
“Of course you don’t.” You pursed your lips and crossed your arms. “Go back to sleep.”
“Ya need ta sleep too, y’know.” 
“I have to keep an eye on your heartrate.” 
He hummed, eyes opening a little wider. Without warning he pushed himself up onto his elbows with a wince and moved to the opposite side of the bed, collapsing back onto the pillow. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” You whisper yelled. You hoped he could see your irritation in the glare you were giving him since you couldn’t verbally express it at the moment. 
“Shuddup an’ get in.” Daryl gave a jerk of his chin toward the now empty space in front of you. 
“Daryl, I need to—”
“I gotcha covered. Jus’ get in, damnit.” With an annoyed huff, you toed off your boots and climbed under the blanket, flopping onto your side to face him. “Now c’mere.” The archer stretched out the arm closest to you in invitation. You hesitated. Sure, you’d slept next to him before but he was behind you, keeping you warm. This was…not that. “C’mon, ain’t got all night.” Gulping audibly, you scooted closer, gently laying your head against the front of his shoulder. His arm came around from behind you to rest against your side. 
“Won’t this irritate those burns?” 
“Nah, s’fine. Gimme yer hand.” You lifted your hand from where you had it sheltered in front of you and allowed him to gently grab your wrist with his fingertips. He was carefully avoiding his wrapped palm coming into contact. Your hand was placed, palm down, against his chest, his fingers pressing it flat. “There. Monitor away an’ get some sleep.” His heart thudded strongly at a regular pace, the feel of it soothing. You found yourself smiling at this sweet gesture, only to look up and be met with his raised brow. 
“You’re such an ass. Go to sleep.”
“You firs’.”
“Fine.” A beat of silence. “Think I’ll dream about Rick kissing you again? That was kinda hot.”
“Stop.”
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whumpypepsigal · 7 months
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Whumptober 2023 | No. 4
Alternative prompt: Examination
Star Trek: Strange New Worlds s01e03: “Any closer and that could have hit the carotid.”
@whumptober @whumptober-archive
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bayothemayo · 7 months
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🎃Whumptober Day 4: "You in There" (Kris x Reader)🎃
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You fiddle with your Dark Word outfit. You were walking with Kris in the Cyber World. You two were alone due to a fork in the path and Susie dragging Ralsei with her. At this moment, it was silent.
You notice that Kris have been weird since yesterday. They've always been weird, but they have been more weird lately. They have been a little robotic at times. You are not sure if they were in a mood or something else is going on.
"Hey uh...Kris?" You turn towards Kris, "Sorry if I am intruding, but are you doing okay?"
Kris just simply looks at you, "Yes." They then look away. You notice that there is something off in their tone. You don't want to push Kris to telling you on what is going on.
"Alright then..." You spoke up again after a few seconds, "You can talk to me if you want to, you know? Even if I can't help on whether is bothering, I'll listen." You pat Kris's shoulder. You can see a small smile on their face.
You hope they are okay.
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sowhumpful · 7 months
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No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”
Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”
Hawaii Five-O Season 8 Ep 15 Forever Season 1, Ep 08 Supernatural Season 12, Ep 01
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whumpsday · 7 months
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K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #4
Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist
content: vampire whumpee, starvation, electrocution, torture, captivity, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumper
@whumptober Day 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.” / Cattle Prod / Shock / “You in there?”
-
The hunters laughed as Kane lunged forward again, pulling his chain taut. It wasn’t even silver this time, the steel more than enough to hold him in his starved state, but it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was the blood. Right there, glistening and red and rich and delicious and everything he’s ever wanted, dripping decadently from the hunter’s finger, forming a lovely red trail down his hand. Kane needed it more than anything. He couldn’t even find it in him to be afraid, in that moment, every ounce of his mind devoted solely to his desperate need for food.
He whined, eyes wild, trying to scramble forward as best he could, broken nails scrabbling against concrete floor. It was no use. The chain pulled at his ankle, stopping him from getting close. From sinking his fangs into that hand, into its owner’s neck, from drinking and drinking until he’s finally had his fill–
“You in there, parasite?” One of the other hunters poked him in the head with something plastic, but Kane couldn’t focus on that right now.
Fangs bared, he pulled and pulled, reaching his arms out desperately toward the bleeding hunter. His whines were louder now, and he managed to express a coherent thought: “Please, I need it! I’m so hungry!”
Another round of laughter.
“Oh, I dunno, I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Let’s see if we can get you under control another way.”
The plastic thing came back, but turned around this time, poking him in the chest with the other end– not plastic. Metal. He yelped at the burn, flinching back. But this was different from silver, not the same kind of burn.
As his eyes focused, Kane realized it wasn’t a burn at all, but a shock. They’d poked him with a cattle prod.
“I– I’m s-sorry, sir–”
The bleeding hunter squeezed his finger, another drop of blood oozing from the small cut. The last of the coherent thought vanished as the intoxicating smell intensified, and he leapt once more, his chain pulling tight and forcing him back to the ground.
He screamed as the other hunter stuck the prod into the back of his neck and held it there, not letting up.
“Not sorry enough. Don’t worry, we’ll teach you.”
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losthavenmine · 7 months
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Whumptober 2023 Day 4 || Drugged
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adrift-in-thyme · 7 months
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Whumptober Day 4: "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes" + "You in there?"
Read on Ao3
- Wind & Warriors
- Summary: Wind is forced to fight a malice-possessed Warriors
CW for possession, blood and injury, and mild body horror
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Wind has seen Warriors in many different states. He has seen him pale and haggard from stress and exhaustion, ashen and white-faced from deep wounds. He has seen his eyes crinkle with laughter and his expression fall as he cries. He has seen him angry and joyful, heartbroken and terrified.
But never has he seen him like this.
The knight stands before him, wavering unsteadily on his feet. One half of his face is pale – too pale – and his eye shines abnormally bright from within it. But the other half is coated in a mass of sticky-looking purple-black goo. It clings to him like a mask, burrowing beneath his eye socket. The usual Hylian blue of his eye has turned to black and his pupil is a golden, cat-like slit rimmed in crimson.
The purple stuff travels down his body from there. It trails along the curve of his neck, spreading around his chest, creeping across his abdomen, traveling down to wind about his left leg. It gurgles as he takes a stumbling step forward.
“What’s the matter, sailor?” He grins, cracked lips pulling back to reveal crimson-tinged teeth. “Do you not like this new version of me?”
Wind takes a step back. His sword feels heavy in his hand.
“You-you’re not you, Warriors.”
Even saying it makes his throat feel tight. But he has to. He has to speak the truth.
When the Captain had gone missing last week, he had feared the worst. They all had. And when Wolfie had tracked his scent to Hyrule Castle, the mood had only dipped further.
(“No one goes in this place, anymore,” Wild had said, gazing at the castle with something akin to bitterness. “Not unless they don’t want to come out. There’s malice hidden in the walls. Zelda and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning it up yet.”)
But even that hadn’t completely dashed Wind’s hopes. Warriors was tough – is tough – and he had thought…well, he had thought he would find him when he had walked into the castle. Injured maybe, and in need of help, but not like this. Not unrecognizable, a monster in the form of his brother.
That is who he must face, however. And now with the rest of the heroes locked outside, he is left to face him alone.
“You’ve gotta fight it,” he pleads as Warriors comes steadily closer. “I know you can do it! You’ve just gotta try!”
“Try?” Warriors laughs and the sound seems to echo off of the stone walls. “There is nothing to try. This is what I am now, and I am better for it.”
He raises his sword. His breathing is haggard, every inhale sharp. Wind can’t say he’s afraid of him…not truly, not when he knows there is still a part of him, hidden deep within that is the Warriors he knows and loves. But when the goo begins traveling along the floor toward him, he can’t help the way his heart leaps into his throat.
“I was a servant of the goddess for so long,” Warriors continues, his voice hoarse and crackling. “I thought she gave me purpose, made me strong. But now I see that that was all a lie.”
Wind swallows. He can feel the tension in the air, building up for the knight’s next words.
“Why would I serve her, when I could have the ability to resurrect one infinitely more powerful?
“Ganondorf.”
He had known it was coming, but the name hits him like a massive wave anyway. Wind takes a step forward now, anger and fear coursing through him.
“He’s the bad guy and you know it!” He cries. “I know you do!”
Warriors only chuckles, the sound grating and sinister. “You’re foolish, just as I was. But you’ll see soon enough.” He grins, eyes glinting. “Or you’ll die.”
“Sailor!” Twilight calls from behind him. His words mingle with the curses and sounds of frustration of the other heroes. Their voices are muffled by the thick walls that stand between them and Wind, but he can hear them well enough. “What’s going on in there? Are you okay?”
Wind drags in a breath. His palms are sweaty, his hands trembling.
“Wars is…he-he’s covered in purple gooey stuff.”
“He’s what?!” It’s Wild now, panic sharp in his tone. “Sailor, is he acting weird?”
“Yeah.” His voice trembles and he clears his throat. “He…I-I think he’s possessed.”
“Possessed?” He can hear Legend groan. “That’s just our luck.”
“I’m going to find another way in,” Time says, voice brittle as ice. “You all remain here and aid the sailor any way you can.”
“There is no other—” Wild cuts off with an audible sigh. Wind guesses the old man went off before he could finish.
“He’s still fighting,” Wind says, even as he steps back again, trying vainly to keep some distance between him and the slowly advancing captain. “There’s gotta be a way we can help him.”
“There is,” Wild replies. “Listen, Wind, he’s trapped in malice. So, you’ve got to shoot the…”
A piercing scream drowns out his next words. Wind startles, grip on his sword tightening in preparation. But Warriors has stopped short and the malice with him. 
He is curled in on himself now, hunched figure looking so much weaker and more broken than seconds before. He presses a hand to his face and instantly the goop oozes over his fingertips. The scream trails off into a moan that quickly turns into a croaked word. 
“Wind?”
The sailor inhales sharply at the sound. Hope leaps inside his chest.
“It’s me, captain! I’m here! We-we’re all here! We’re gonna save you!”
Warriors falls to his knees. Wind can’t help but take a step towards him. But then the captain lifts his head and there is such anguish in his expression that it breaks his heart. He comes to a halt, throat dangerously tight.
“Wind….” The word is softer this time, more breathed than spoken. “I-I can’t…”
“You can!” Wind takes another step, ignoring the warning signals blaring in his brain. This is his brother and he’s not about to abandon him now. “I believe in you, Wars! You can fight this!”
The edges of Warriors’ mouth lift just slightly. A tear rolls down his cheek.
“Sailor,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry…please…run.”
There’s a beat of silence. And then, he begins to cackle.
He rises on shaky legs, stumbling upward like a redead rising to consume its prey. He moves forward, every step slow and jerky. The malice spreads out like a carpet before him.
Warriors grins, all sharp teeth and deathly pale skin. Blood dribbles from his mouth.
“You thought you’d won, didn’t you? You thought you wouldn’t have to fight me. So sorry to disappoint.”
He flicks a finger and suddenly the malice speeds up. It zips toward Wind in a blur of violet and black and bits of crimson. His heart jumps into his throat and he leaps sideways. Not a moment too soon either. The malice collides with the wall behind him with a sickening splat.
Wind cringes.
Is that how it had attacked Warriors? He wonders. But there isn’t time to imagine how such a horrifying fate had befallen his brother. Because Warriors whirls with startling speed and strikes again.
This time Wind is better prepared. He drops into a somersault. The malice rushes past his ear, so close he’s almost sure it’s going to hit the tip. But then he’s up again, just behind Warriors. Taking a deep breath he raises his sword and brings it down on the mass of malice that trails in the captain’s wake.
The hit does nothing.
The malice retracts, then with an unholy screech reaches for him. Wind’s eyes go wide.
He dodges, shoulder colliding painfully with the wall. Warriors turns to him with a leering smirk. Wind is unpleasantly reminded of the little imps in the Forbidden Fortress — the ones that poked at his heels and chased him up the walls. The thought makes him sick.
Warriors isn’t supposed to look like that.
“You’re fast,” the captain says. “And skilled. No wonder I loved you. At first I wasn’t sure how I could’ve cared about  some kid. But now I know. You were useful.”
Wind swallows, hard. The words hurt him more than he’d like to admit.
It’s not true. He doesn’t mean it, he tells himself, firmly. It’s the malice talking, not him.
Warriors leaps toward him again, this time bringing his sword slicing through the air. Wind is forced to hurl himself sideways to escape being pinned against the wall.
But he doesn’t have time to even catch his breath. Malice surges toward him across the ground, grasping his feet even as he turns. He struggles, fear running hot in his veins. Its grip is strong, however, and it holds him firmly in place.
Warriors stalks up to him. Wind forces himself to meet his crazed stare.
“You can’t run anymore,” he sneers. “Fight me or die. There are no other options.” He steps closer, hand outstretched inches from Wind’s face. Malice encases his fingertips. “Unless, of course, you would rather join me.”
He tilts his head and the way the light falls upon the still-human side of his face almost makes him look like himself again. Almost. 
“You could help me resurrect him. You could help me bring an end to this world.”
Tears run in rivulets down his cheeks. He tastes salt. But Wind curls his hand into fist. 
“I won’t help you. Not like that. I’m gonna set you free!”
Warriors straightens, sword clasped tightly in his fist. The eye of malice narrows, as though seeking prey. Its contrasting array of colors seem to gleam.
With it so close, Wind finds it hard to take his gaze off of it. His hands almost itch to lose an arrow into it like he has done in so many dungeons.
Legend’s voice echoes in his mind, colored with peals of laughter.
“Always shoot the eye.”
Then, comes Wild, tone panicked but determined, muffled by the thick walls, cut off by Warriors’ cries of agony.
“You’ve gotta shoot the…”
Wind inhales sharply.
That’s it! 
There is still hope, after all.
The malice continues to climb sluggishly up his body, weighing him down. The darkness that emanated off of it is suffocating. Lifting a shaking hand, Warriors aims the tip of his sword at his heart.
“Then you’ll die.”
Wind takes a deep breath. Swiping at his tears, he steels himself. Hand heavy, heart in his throat, he lifts his sword.
Please let this work, he prays.
And then, he plunges the weapon into Warriors’ face.
There is a nauseating squish, a skull-splitting scream, and Warriors crumples. The malice around Wind’s legs dissipates in a cloud of dark violet specks. The goop on and around Warriors follows suit seconds later.
Instantly, Wind is on his knees, sword sheathed, hands on Warriors’ shoulder. He turns the knight over, choking out his name as the windows and doorways of the Sanctum slide open and the sunlight streams in. It illuminates the captain’s — now completely human — face in blessed light.
Distantly, Wind registers that the others are racing into the room, calling his and Warriors’ names, punctuated with panicked questions. But he can’t bring himself to reply.
Warriors’ eyes are closed now, his freed body still.
…Too still. Wind watches his chest, waiting for it to rise.
“Come on.” Tears spring to his eyes anew and roll down his cheeks, tracing the paths of their predecessors. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “Come on, Warriors, wake up.”
Please don’t be dead.
Time is dropping down beside him now, already uncorking a bottle. A fairy flies free and heads straight for the fallen captain. Wind watches as she begins to whirl around him.
Her dance seems to last forever. But then, at last, she zips away and disappears.
Wind leans forward, holding his breath.
Abruptly, Warriors jolts upward coughing and gasping. He looks around the room, wildly, eyes wide and panicked. But they are blue as the Great Sea and full of the life he knows so well and Wind can feel nothing in that moment except joy and relief.
“Warriors!” He wraps his arms tightly around the captain, half to support him and half to cling to him. To remind himself he is still here, alive. That he is safe.
Warriors stiffens and pulls back, eyes roaming his body.
“Sailor,” he croaks in the voice that is so unmistakably his. “Are-are you alright? Did I hurt you?”
With a shaky smile, Wind drags him back into the hug. “I’m fine! Promise! Don’t worry about me.”
Warriors makes a sound like a half-sob. He shudders.
“I-I’m so, so sorry.”
The sailor shakes his head, viciously. “Don’t be! It wasn’t you.”
“But I should have…I could have fought…”
Time leans forward, setting a hand on both of their shoulders. Emboldened by his presence Wind sucks in a breath, nearly choking on tears.
“You did fight, captain! I saw you. You-you fought all you could!”
“There is nothing else you could’ve done,” Time adds, quietly. “The champion hasn’t known anyone to resist the pull of such evil, save for Flora. And it seems you continued to battle it for quite some time.”
Warriors doesn’t reply. He slumps, defeated, and Wind holds him tighter.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. I-I was really worried.” He raises his head to look Warriors in the face. “You…are okay now, right?”
There are tears running down Warriors’ pale cheeks, blood trickling from his mouth and various wounds Wind can see now that the malice is gone. But he cracks a broken smile.
“Yeah, I’m alright now, sailor. All thanks to you.”
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atimeofyourlife · 7 months
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Whumptober day 4
rated:t | wc: 506 | prompt: Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?” |cw: minor emetophobia Steve has Hanahaki AU
Steve tried to keep quiet as he coughed over the toilet, bringing up mouthful after mouthful of bloodstained petals. He didn't want anyone else to hear or to know that he was struck by hanahaki. It had steadily been getting worse over a couple of weeks, and Steve knew he didn't have much longer before he would have to make the decision on the surgery. But he didn't know how to go about any of it without making anyone, especially Eddie, feel guilty.
A hacking cough forced it's way out of his chest accompanied by his first whole flower, a partially open black rose.
"Steve, are you in there?" He heard Robin call after a knock on the door. "You've been a while, everyone's getting worried."
"I'm fine, Rob-" He started but got cut off as he started coughing up even more petals.
"Please let me in. I need to know that you're okay?"
Steve leaned over to unlock the door, then had to throw himself back towards the toilet as the next round of petals made their appearance.
"Oh, Steve." Robin said as she took in what she could see.
"Lock it." Steve mumbled between coughs.
Robin did as asked before kneeling behind Steve to rub his back.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Robin asked after Steve's coughing had slowed down.
"Didn't want anyone to worry." Steve admitted.
"Steve, we love you. Of course we're going to worry about you. Some of those kids were practically climbing the walls once they realized how long you'd been gone. They all wanted to come and see if you were okay. I didn't think you'd want them to see you if you were unwell so I convinced them to let me check."
"Thanks." Steve replied, leaning against Robin's shoulder.
"Do you know who it is?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "Is it Nancy? Because I know she's still kinda with Jonathan, but I'm sure-"
"No. It's not Nance. I. It's Eddie." Steve said quietly, knowing it wasn't just him admitting having hanahaki, but also him coming out to Robin.
"Oh. Have- have you thought about telling him?"
"No. I, uh. I asked him out a few weeks ago. He turned me down, said he only saw me as a friend. It started after that. I don't want him to feel guilty or like he has to try to love me or that he has to be the one who saves me. It's not his fault." Steve explained, hating how it made him feel unlovable.
"What are you going to do?"
"I think I'm going to have to get the surgery. When you knocked on the door, I coughed up my first whole flower. So I know it's getting worse."
"Do you-" Robin started, but was cut off by another knock on the door.
"Steve, you in there?" Eddie's voice came through.
"He's sick, can you get everyone home?" Robin replied as Steve lurched back over the toilet, violently coughing up even more petals and blood.
all my whumptober fills
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omgiamwish · 2 years
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Whumptober 2022 Day 4 - Hidden Injury
Casey: Are you okay, Sensei?
Leo, startled: What? Yeah! Yeah, of course!
Casey: Oh. That’s good. I was worried you were hiding an injury. Which would be bad, because then your team wouldn’t know to compensate for it, endangering all of our lives.
Leo:
Leo: *sweating*
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