#Collapsed Building

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #24: "Collapsed Building" Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No. 24

Prompt: Collapsed building

Warnings: Minor injuries

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Fem!Reader

gif is not mine - google

“Daryl!”

You knew your screams would likely give away your location but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Daryl had just fallen through a roof, half of the structure tumbling in behind him. The dark made it difficult to tell, but the place looked to be in danger of total collapse even before you had set foot on it.

“Daryl!”

The stairs bent and crumbled under your weight, throwing you off balance. The rail swayed as you tried to right yourself only for the process to repeat as you continued your descent. When they finally gave, you fell at least two floors before crashing onto a pile of debris, barely cognizant enough to curl up and protect your head from the wood and metal that rained down after you.

“Ow.” You groaned and rolled onto your back, your arm falling limply against the floor, your fingertips submerging into something cold. Rolling your head, you blinked slowly, your vision blurry and gray at the edges. The floor was missing, dark with water that appeared to go down several feet. “Daryl.” You croaked, wincing as you rolled over. On your stomach, you peered into the black depths, unable to see.

It took some effort to get onto your hands and knees but you managed, crawling toward your flashlight. Shining it down, you squinted. A mop of brown hair flowed back and forth a few feet down, hands up beside it. You were already diving in before he began to flail, walkers appearing beside and below. Your knife drawn, you made slow stabs with just enough force to pierce the softened skulls.

You grabbed Daryl’s arms and pulled even as he began to swim on his own. The walkers’ blood was in the water and the two of you needed to get out quickly or risk infection. Breaching the surface with desperate gasps, you both scrambled to the edge. You were out first, barely dragging your feet onto the concrete before you helped hoist Daryl from the water.

“Fuck.” You panted, falling onto your back beside him.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” You turned your head slightly to be able to see him. He mimicked the action.

“Yeah. You?”

Your hand raised in a so-so motion before it fell between the two of you and grabbed his gloved one. As much as you wanted to lie there, catch your breath, there was no time.

“We need to move.” Daryl grunted, struggling to his feet before pulling you up. Limping slightly, he took your flashlight and began looking for a way out. Try as he might to hide it, you could read him like a book. He was worried.

“We’ll find Laurent.” A small smile was waiting for him when he turned to you, his expression softening. He offered his hand, closing his fingers around yours.

“I know.”

[letthewhumpbegin]

Whumptober 2024, day 24 Prompt: collapsed building @whumptober

Hawaii Five-0, s4e19

[aceofwhump]

Whumptober 2024 - No. 12 UNDERGROUND CAVERNS

Hawaii Five-0 10x02 Tani and Junior must plot an escape for themselves and several civilians after they become trapped inside a deadly tunnel collapse

@whumptober

[pareidoliaonthemove]

What Are Little Girls Made Of

“How far to the lifesigns, Thunderbird Five?”

Virgil stopped the rest behind the ‘mini-Mole’, as he waited for his older brother to respond.

“About twenty meters, Two. You need to veer five degrees right, and one degree down. That will have you breaking through their air pocket at the corner diagonally opposite from their position.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five. Five degrees right one, one degree down. Moving out.”

Virgil keyed in the course change on his wrist controller, and activated the mini-Mole. With a high pitched squeal, the small ROV again started drilling into the concrete and rebar of the collapsed building. It captured all the detritus, mixed it with a quick setting binding agent, and extruded it against the ‘walls’ of its tunnel, ensuring that the resulting space wasn’t going to collapse immediately behind it.

Virgil eyed his wrist controller as he crawled after the machine. Time was still of the essence in this type of rescue. They hadn’t been able to ascertain exactly why the commercial complex had collapsed, and that made Virgil very unhappy.

In front of him, the mini-Mole chirruped, slowed its pace and drill, and pulled forward to show a hole in the ‘wall’ facing a void. Virgil activated his passive line to John, then crawled up to the entryway and cautiously poked his head through. “International Rescue. Is anybody here?”

Stupid question, he knew there were two human life-signs in this space, but the enquiry served multiple purposes. Firstly, it identified him, and stopped anyone from trying to brain him with a rock – it had happened. Trapped people panicked, and if they had fears about running out of oxygen, another person in ‘their’ space, breathing ‘their’ air was a threat that had to be ‘dealt’ with.

Secondly, it told him if the lifesigns were conscious. No conscious victim could resist responding to the magic words...

“International Rescue!”

And there it was. One of the two lifesigns was currently bouncing towards him, a little girl about seven years of age, rushing across the space, her pigtails streaming behind her, pink ribbons fluttering. Virgil watched carefully as he crawled into the space. She was moving freely, despite concrete dust liberally coating her body, and bloody red grazes on the sides of legs and palms of her hand. Her dress, once a pink frilly layered affair was now torn and lank.

She must have felt like a princess when she left her home this morning.

The little girl grabbed his hand and started trying to drag him back with her to the far corner. “You have to come, Mummy’s stuck! She can’t get out!”

“Judy! Calm.” The voice was laced with pain but firm and calming. Two conscious resucees. That was good.

Judy stopped her insistent dragging, but didn’t let go of Virgil’s hand. “Please, Mister International Rescue. My Mummy is stuck. Can you help her get out?”

Virgil smiled, it was a practised smile, confident and calm. “That’s why I’m here. Now, where is your mummy, and what is her name?”

A deep breath. “My Mummy’s name is Jennifer Robson. My name is Judy Robson. Mummy is over in that corner,” she pointed. “And her legs are caught under the roof. Mine were, too,” she added, “but I’m little so I managed to wiggle my way out. Mummy can’t.”

“Thank you, Judy. You’ve been very brave, and very helpful. Can you keep helping me by staying here, while I go and see what’s got your mummy stuck?”

A determined nod, but her fear was betrayed by small teeth gnawing at her lower lip and bright water gathering in her eyes.

Virgil smiled again, and lowered himself down beside her mother. “Mrs Robson?” he asked, it never hurt to check names with parents. Judy had spoken clearly, but a misunderstood name at a rescue site could have consequences later.

The woman smiled up at him from where she lay on her left side. “That’s right, please call me Jenny. It’ll save time.” A glance at her daughter. “It’s a bit more complicated than just being stuck. I think something’s gone through my left leg.” A frown. “My right leg is lying in front of the left, and I can move it freely, but…”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. I understand.” He pulled a device from the satchel he had been dragging under his chest, clipped to his harness. “This is a snake,” he showed Mrs Robson. “I’m going to slide it behind you, and it’ll let me see what’s holding you in place. Then I can come up with a plan to get you out.”

“That would be appreciated,” Jenny smiled.

Virgil eased his way behind her, and activated the snake, sending it slipping down next to her back, and relaying what it ‘saw’ to a little 2D screen on the control box.

He frowned at what he saw. A piece of rebar – entirely too thin for what it was presumably doing, he noted absently – had been freed from it encasing concrete, and had stabbed through Jenny’s left calf. He sent the snake bobbing down, to examine beneath.

They were in luck, the rebar had only just broken the skin, and hadn’t pinned her to the slab below. One cut, a slight jacking of the slab above her, and Jenny could be pulled out.

He informed Jenny as much, and then paused. Judy was sitting cross legged where he had left her, her apparent calm betrayed by the clean furrows tear tracks had carved down the concrete dust coating her face. He couldn’t send the little girl up the tunnel on her own, there were too many side branches that had been carved to reach other victims of the collapse. He couldn’t take her himself, and leave Jenny alone. And they really couldn’t afford the time to have one of his brothers come down and collect Judy, but she was still only young, and he didn’t really want her to see the state her mother was in.

Jenny saw where he was looking, and smiled. “If you’re worried about upsetting her with blood, you shouldn’t. Your biggest problem will be keeping her out of the way to wrap up a wound. Little girls come in two flavours, precious princesses who kick up and fuss at the mere mention of the word ‘blood’, or perfect little ghouls, who delight in it, and must be shown any wound the instant they learn of it.” She raised her voice so her daughter could hear. “Judy wants to be a doctor when she grows up, she is very interested in first aid and how to treat injuries. Judy the Ghoul, we call her.”

Judy perked up. “Oh, does Mummy need first aid? Can I help? I know how to apply bandages! Please, can I help? I’ll be super helpful!”

Virgil glanced at her mother, who was all but laughing at his confusion. “Judy, tell Mister International Rescue how you treat someone with a stab wound.”

“First, never ever ever take the object out of the wound. Take a bandage, and make doughnut, like this,” she held up both hands to make an ‘O’ shape, “slide it over the foreign object, and then wrap other bandages around it to keep in place.”

Virgil nodded approvingly. “Very good. That’s absolutely correct. First I’m going to have to get your mom out, and then we can do the first aid together, okay?”

A determined nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Okay, then, let’s get cracking.” He turned to his satchel, and pulled out a jack, setting it up, again behind Jenny, and then pulling out a version of Mini-MAX. This one programmed for exactly this kind of scenario, and kitted out with a miniature version of his shoulder mounted laser.

Virgil always had trepidations about ‘his’ Mini-MAX. It had taken Brains a lot of trial and error to tone down MAX’s natural enthusiasm. That coupled with a high powered laser had had … interesting results. International Rescue’s high energy equipment testing protocols and test chamber had both needed serious overhauling.

As was his habit, Virgil held his breath as Mini-MAX attached the heat absorbing shield, and activated his laser. But the little robot did his job perfectly, flying back out to his ‘travel’ case, leaving Jenny with a half-inch of rebar sticking out of her leg.

Virgil again held his breath as the jack slowly, so slowly, eased upwards just enough for him to slide Jenny out without jostling the rebar, and, once she was clear, slowly easing the slab back down to its original position.

As Virgil turned his attention to his charge’s injury, he found the little girl, kneeling beside her mother, her face mere inches from the ground, as she examined the injury with a bright-eyed intensity that made him just a little bit uneasy.

Gently pulling the girl, back he helped her sterilise her hands, and they both made a ‘doughnut’ out of bandages, and while Judy held them in place, Virgil started the binding bandage. He then turned to give Jenny painkillers, while keeping an eye on Judy as she completed the binding.

Quickly assembling the hover stretcher from its folded up state in his satchel, Virgil explained his evacuation plan to his patient and ‘assistant’. Jenny was soon installed on the stretcher, and strapped firmly in place, while Judy was more loosely strapped to her right side, so she could ‘monitor’ her mother on their trip to the surface.

Bringing the mini-Mole around to face back up its tunnel, Virgil tethered the hover stretcher to its back, and sent the Mole, the stretcher and its occupants trundling back towards freedom. Quickly packing up his remaining equipment, Virgil started crawling after the Mole, quietly confirming with John the condition of his rescuees and confirming that there was appropriate resources waiting for them top side, and that there was no-one else to pull from the wreckage of the building.

The trip back up passed quicker than had the one down, with Judy chatting happily to her mother, and then relaying regular ‘updates’ back to Virgil. The dying rays of sunlight bathing the scenery in reds and golds seemed unnaturally bright to Virgil as he crawled out of the hole, accepting Gordon and Scott’s help to stand upright again, and pull off his helmet. His back cracking as he straightened, but he bit back the groan as he twisted. That was just a bit too ‘old man’.

Ambulance crews, already briefed by John as to Jenny’s condition, and treatment already provided, had shifted her from the IR stretcher to their own gurney, and Judy was standing, watching intently as they took her vital signs, and unworriedly alternating between talking over, and talking to the little girl.

A woman, dressed in the ambulance’s uniform, drew Jenny away, and briefly examined the grazes on her legs and hands, and Virgil was briefly concerned that he had missed something in his haste to free the mother. But as the woman realised Virgil was watching, she offered a smile, and a thumbs up; and Virgil relaxed.

Beside him, Gordon nudged his arm, pressed an object into Virgil’s hand. It was one of the buttons Virgil had had made up, a test run of item he wanted to propose to Scott for distribution to kids at Danger Zone. A small button with a pin back. In the centre was the IR logo, an around it, in – naturally – Thunderbird Two Green was the words “I Was Brave For International Rescue”.

Virgil frowned at Gordon. These weren’t supposed to be here, but Gordon just nodded to Judy. “She’s earned it. Scott’s busy, go on, Virg.”

Virgil walked over, and knelt down beside Judy. “I wanted to thank you, Judy. You were very brave and very helpful back there.” He held up the button to her. “You’ve earned this. Can I pin it to your dress?”

Judy’s eyes went wide as she saw the button, and she nodded. Virgil reached forward, and very carefully pinned it to the dress, probably a bit high, it was near her collarbone. But Judy stared down at it a moment, before launching herself at Virgil and nearly strangling him with a hug. “Thank you, Mister International Rescue. Thank you for helping me and my Mummy.”

Virgil cautiously returned the hug, “Thank you, Judy.” A shout from the nearby ambulance had Judy’s caretaker gently pulling her away from Virgil and leading her away. Judy bounded as she went, pigtails streaming behind her. Back to her mother.

Twenty Years Later

Virgil lay back, watching the flickering pattern of light tiles rush past over his head. Whatever drugs they had given him on the way to the hospital were working a treat, what had been a fiery burning pain was now a dull throb, annoying but he could live with it.

A new body joined the lineup alongside his gurney, and Virgil turned his attention to the newcomer. A woman, about thirty, her long dark hair was caught in a plait, a pink ribbon incongruously woven into the braid, and formed the tie, candy pink scrubs that stuck out like a beacon amid the soft blues and teals.

A photo ID card at the end of the lanyard bounced about as she ran, and Virgil couldn’t make out then name, but recognised from the colour stripe along the right edge that the woman was an Emergency Department Trauma Surgeon. Attached to the lanyard, near her collarbone, was a pin, and Virgil strained to see it. He frowned, and reached up a hand to tug on the lanyard so he could get a closer look at the pin.

A IR blue clad arm reached about and caught his hand. “Hey, Virg, no grabbing. Hands to yourself, even when drugged, bro.”

There was a laugh, and the woman pulled off the lanyard one handed, and held the pin for his inspection. It was an old button, faded from exposure to light, but Virgil instantly recognised it. Scott had quickly forbidden them when he had found out, but the IR logo in the centre, and the words, “I Was Brave For International Rescue” ran around the edge in Thunderbird Two Green was unmistakable.

A name came to him, an image of a cement dust covered little girl in torn pink dress and pigtails, peering in fascination at the rebar piercing her mother’s leg. “Judy the Ghoul,” he said, voice slurring.

Above him, Judy – Doctor Judy – laughed. “That’s me. I’m honoured you remembered me.”

Virgil lay back and closed his eyes. “Never forgot. Little girls are ghouls. Important lesson t’ learn.” He opened his eyes. “My little girls are even worse. Had’ta keep infirmary locked. Was tryin’ to play ‘doctor’.”

She laughed again, turning her attention to his lower body. Virgil really didn’t want to know what she was seeing. Feeling what had happened was bad enough. A thought. “Did y’ Mum keep th’ leg?”

“No,” was the absent reply. “Sepsis infection at the hospital meant she lost her leg, at the knee. She has a prosthesis; reckons it’s the best thing that ever happened to her. Says it reduced her footache by fifty percent.”

She turned back to Virgil. “But I’m afraid we’ll not be reducing your footache, Mr Tracy. But if you can be very brave and helpful, we’ll have you back rescuing little girls from collapsed buildings in no time.”

Virgil smiled, as half of the people surrounding him, including his brother, fell away, and he was propelled through double doors into the gleaming sterility of a surgical theater. “I look forward to it.”

Notes:

I have five nieces, aged between ten and two. Any bandages or bandaids must be immediately removed for them to inspect the damage. Ghouls. The lot of them. Unless it’s their blood!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the TOS or CGI Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1291

Whumptober #23: "Who's there?"

“I  can’t see inside - who are we missing? Did everyone get out? Who’s hurt?”

"The smokes too thick - stay close everyone. We should do a headcount."

"One, two, three, four - where's [whumpee]?"

"I- I dont know."

A second explosion occurs, and all eyes turn to the entrance of the collapsing building.

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #24

Trope of the day: collapsed building

_

Caretaker cannot remember the last time they have felt such panic. They are in pitch darkness, their body hurts, and it feels like their lungs can’t take in enough oxygen.

How hurt are they?

Are they bleeding?

Caretaker cannot see, they cannot check for themselves, cannot see if anyone else is there with them. Whumpee … they must be somewhere. They were with them when everything turned to shit.

But where are they?

A grunt escapes them as they try to move under the rubble, their leg sending a sharp impulse up their body. They are stuck.

Despite not seeing anything, everything feels like it’s spinning. Caretaker can hear a faint voice as they lose consciousness.

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 24

collapsed building / Comfort Food

Malleus's shoulders were stiff at the table, back hovering a few inches off the back of his seat in his rigidity.

"Malleus," said Lilia, in a slight-castigating tone, "perhaps you'd like to relax a bit."

He was almost as stiff as Sebek, whose shoulders were squared parallel to the hard surface of the table he rested his hands upon.

In proper dining fashion, Sebek did not have his elbows resting on the table, but Malleus did, having cupped his hands over his mouth.

It was difficult to tell whether he was bored or nervous. Likely, it was a combination of the two, as Yuu had been cooking for quite a while.

Their little group had been invited over for dinner about a week and five hours ago. Lilia knew this, because Malleus had told him of the exciting news almost as soon as it had happened, and had then reminded him periodically so they would not forget and miss it.

And now, despite his posture, Malleus was rigid with anticipation.

Lilia had tried to ensure he ate a varied diet as he grew up. Earthworms, the souls of the damned, tree fibers. ] It wouldn't do for a king to be picky, even if he could have anything at the snap of his fingers.

Still, Lilia knew Malleus had never had a 'taco' before. He'd barely tried one himself, and he wondered how Malleus would react to the taste.

He wondered about Silver too, but Silver didn't seem so concerned with the food offerings.

"Sebek," said Lilia, "have you ever had a taco?"

Sebek blinked at him momentarily.

"Yes!" he replied. "There is a restaurant near my house in the Briar Valley that serves them, though I have not been there in many years."

"Hmmm. Malleus, are you excited to try a taco?"

Malleus's joints seemed to pop as he turned to look at Lilia.

"Of course," he insisted. "I am excited for this opportunity of cultural exchange on Yuu's end. There are few things as broad and yet as intimate as food."

"I must agree," cut in Silver. "It's always nice to be able to try... regular human food."

They all nodded in agreement, before falling back into silence.

"Just a few more minutes!" shouted Yuu from the kitchen. "I promise!"

"There's no rush," said Lilia in a raised voice, and the dining room was silent again.

Lilia wondered what Malleus was thinking about. Certainly, there were a number of avenues to consider, especially within the walls of Ramshackle.

Truly impressive, how Yuu had managed to turn around the half-collapsed building from a death trap into one of the most coveted gathering spaces on campus, and he was glad to be able to enjoy it this evening.

Malleus had seemed to be feeling the same way, as though Lilia knew he'd been here before, he'd eaten up everything in sight hungrily, commenting on Yuu's taste in all things interior design.

"Ok, ready everyone!" Yuu suddenly burst into the dining room, light spilling in from the kitchen, and the delicious scent of home cooking wafted in. Lilia resolved to act in a way that would give Yuu the best impression of the group, for Malleus's sake.

They were balancing two large plates on either of their hands, and Grim, who was on their shoulder, appeared to be holding some small bowls. The two of them quickly got to work arranging everything on the table, passing out the plates and napkins with it.

"Ok! So here," said Yuu, pointing to the small bowls Grim had been holding, "are some of the sides. Just take as many tacos as you want, and you can put whatever you want on them. Cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, it's your choice."

Two of the places Yuu had been holding were stacked high with the tacos. They were golden little tubes, filled with some sort of chopped meat.

Lilia took one right away and bit into it, finding it crunchy and savory. He nodded in enjoyment to the boys, and they unfroze themselves enough to take a few for their own.

Instead of eating the rest of it plain, Lilia used the spoons in the bowls to give himself some lettuce and tomato, and found the flavor significantly enhanced.

Malleus took five, not taking a bite before all of them had received his desired proportion of toppings.

Silver ate one carefully, chewing slowly. At first, Lilia couldn't tell if he actually liked it, but he ate his second much quicker.

Sebek tried a number of combinations of toppings, using each bite to its advantage. On his second taco, he poured tomatoes and cheese on it, and ate it with gusto.

"These are delicious, Yuu," said Malleus between bites. "Your skill for cooking is evident."

Yuu's electric smile seemed to spread wide enough to split their face in half, and Lilia realized they were now sitting as rigidly as Malleus was just a few minutes ago.

"Thank you!" they said gleefully. "I'm glad you like the,. It's ultimately a pretty simple recipe, but- well, I'm glad you like it."

Yuu's jitteriness almost seemed like a perfect inversion of Malleus's frozen stoicism, and Lilia realized something he'd already known.

They were perfect for each other.

He grinned to himself behind his taco, and Malleus made a show of eating and tried to maintain eye contact with Yuu as they watched him eagerly.

Ah, young love.

[psychologeek]

Whumptober #24: Psychopomp (pt. 1)

RADIATION POISONING | Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

Psychopomp is standing by a collapsing building, and watching.

(There are few Livings inside– she won't touch them. They won't be able to notice her anyway. Not like that.)

No one died here. Well, not yet. There is a certain feeling of dying around, but that's life. Everybody is dying. Some just take longer.

Yet, something is attracting her to the inside.

She closes her eyes, letting herself follow that feeling.

She opens her eyes and sees a man under a table. 

(He's bleeding. And there's this feeling she already knows. One  which marks a nearby death. She isn't one to stop it, but she can reduce the suffering.)

She touches his arm, the closest body part she can reach, and connects.

~

They are in a library.

There's a man sitting on a rocking chair, basking in the sunlight. It smells like old books and cookies.

She can only see him from behind– black hair and wide back.

“Hello,” she says quietly, trying to gain the person's attention.

(It can be hard, she knows. It can be scary, and painful, and agonizing. It can also be a blessing, sometimes. A relief, a quiet goodbye and a happy reunion.)

In this in-between state, this liminal space, there is no pain. 

Sometimes they remember.

Others don't. 

Both are fine.

(Death is inevitable, unstoppable, the final outcome.

It isn't a bad thing.)

“Hello,” she tries again, and this time the man turns towards her.

“How did you get here?” he asks in confusion.

(She looks at the scar on his forehead, the burn on his cheek, the familiar birthmark spreading up from his shoulders, halfway through his neck.)

“I'm sorry, dear,” she says. “I'm afraid you are about to die.”

(Psychopomp is an abstract concept. A gestalt of multiple thoughts and ideas and prayers. A reply to the oldest cry: Please, I don't want to be alone.)

Pt. 2

Psychopomp is an essence.

(But Jazz is, yet, only human).

(Like it? I have more mini-fics Whumptober index | And full size fics on ao3. )

[charlieeenby]

whumptober '24

day 24: collapsed building/lyric

what would you do for your family? for your home? Duke has to answer that question.

warnings and tags: canon typical violence, hurt duke, duke saves gotham (and the world) collapsed building, angst, some sibling bonding, good sibling jason todd, mention of injury but nothing graphic

His ears were ringing. Everything hurt and his ears were ringing, which was all he seemed to be able to focus on. But, after a… well, he didn’t know how long, but after some period of time, he started to get his awareness of the world back.

At first, he could feel nothing but pain, but now he could feel the pinch of his body armor from an awkward position and what he assumed to be a rock pressing into his back. Then he could feel a chill in his bones, which wasn’t good.

He didn’t get cold, why was he cold?

Duke’s suit was ruined, not that he really noticed. He was more focused on the giant demon destroying Gotham, and also, coming straight at him for another fight. One Duke didn’t think he could win.

As he stood there, teeth gritted in determination, he thought of his parents. Bruce made sure they were well taken care of, in a home more than qualified to do so. And Duke was grateful for that, for everything he’d gained since Bruce took him in. But he missed them. Missed the life he had before him, before Batman, before Signal. Before Bruce.

And as he stared down this demon, he remembered when his powers first appeared, the day he lost his parents.

He remembered laying on the ground and staring up at the sky. All he’d been able to think was “I never knew daylight could be this violent.” though, that was before he’d realized that the daylight he was seeing was him, was his abilities coming to life to save his.

It came to him then, how to stop this demon. So, he took every last ounce of strength in his body, and pulled light into him as the demon came to a stop in front of him.

Then he became the sun, expelling light, more than he’d ever done before and brighter than he ever had. And he killed the demon, though he did cause a few buildings to collapse, the force of his light too strong. Then he promptly blacked out, falling with the building he’d been standing on.

Duke frowned, still not understanding why he was so cold. Was it because he’d used his powers so intensely? Was he dying? Was he already dead, but been unable to come to terms with it?

He decided that whatever the case was, he needed to get up. That would answer his questions, or at least rule out him being dead.

So he gritted his teeth, and tried to roll over, crying out as fire licked up his back, but managed to get onto his belly. “Dad!” he sobbed. He didn’t know who he was calling for.

Slowly, he forced himself to get onto his hands and knees, then to stand up. When he turned around, his body wasn’t laying in the ruble, so he wasn’t dead, which, in the grand scheme of things, seemed good.

Now to get out.

Over the course of a few hours, which he knew because he kept checking his watch, he managed to climb and dig his way out of the collapsed building. When he stumbled onto the street, he sat down on a piece of rubble and waited for someone to find him.

As he sat, he realized he was still cold. In fact, he was shivering. So he tried to draw his powers up because they always warmed him up when he used them.

But they didn’t come.

Nothing happened.

Why wasn’t anything happening?

Duke started to hyperventilate, panic filling his mind. Why didn’t they work? They came from a genetic variation, it wasn’t like they could be taken. At least, he didn’t think they could.

As he stared at his hands, trying to calm down and think, the world started to flicker around the edges, and he looked up, shadows dancing in all the wrong ways. Then the shadows receded, disappeared.

A flash of light, blinding him.

Duke was standing on a building in a ruined suit, staring down a rampaging demon.

Oh.

He’d been seeing the future. If he used his powers like that, if he became the sun, he’d kill the demon, but he’d lose his powers somehow. That part wasn’t as clear, but he knew that’s what would happen.

“Signal, do you copy?” Batman’s voice over comms startled Duke a bit.

“Yeah, I copy. What’s wrong?”

“The demon. Can you see it?”

Duke looked up. “Yeah, I can.” Glancing around, he found street signs. “It’s heading down Main. I’m on the corner of Main and 22nd.”

“Get outta there, Signal!” Nightwing’s voice was loud, scared. “We can’t beat it!”

But he could. He could kill the demon and he knew this part of the city had already been evacuated. There’d be no deaths, maybe a few injuries, minus himself.

And if he had to lose his powers to save the world, he’d do it. Batman, his brothers, his sisters, they all defended Gotham without powers. He’d be fine.

“I can.” he said quietly. “B, a couple buildings are going to collapse. It’ll take me a few hours to get out, but I’ll be okay.” Duke didn’t mention the part where he’d lose his powers.

He heard yelling over the comms, but ignored it, pulling light into his body, so much more than he’d ever done before, and then, he did what he’d done when he’d seen the future.

He became the sun.

Almost four hours later, Duke dug himself out of a collapsed building, and was met by Red Hood, which surprised him. “Hood?” he croaked.

“Signal.” Jason whispered and pulled Duke into a hug, carefully holding him to his chest. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Duke was pretty sure Jason was comforting both of them, but he didn’t care. His brother was here and he was alive and he was okay.

“Where’s B?” he mumbled after a beat.

“Helping to pick up the city. I volunteered to wait for you. Scared the shit out of us, kid.” Jason said, voice gentle.

“Thanks.”

“You’re my brother. And...and I know what it’s like to dig yourself out of a grave.”

He did, didn’t he? “Thank you.” Duke said again, pulling back to look at Jason. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, course we can, kiddo.” Jason pulled Duke with him, and once they were both settled on his bike, he sped off towards the cave, Duke pressed against his back.

And as they drove through Gotham, Duke knew that no matter what happened, he’d be okay.

[bucknerdycore]

Echoes in the Rubble

Ratings: Mature

Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationship: Tommy/Buck

Buck let out a shaky laugh, the sound bitter. "You sound angry." "I am angry," Tommy said, though Buck could hear the worry bleeding through. "Because you promised me you wouldn't get hurt." Buck shut his eyes, feeling a wave of guilt along with the throbbing pain in his arm and leg. "I didn’t plan on this, Tommy." "I know," Tommy murmured, softer now. "But I'm still mad. So you need to hold on.” Whumptober 2024 Day 24: Collapsed building

[tildeathiwillwrite]

June of Doom Day 15

“Get me out of here!” / Rescue / Chainsaw / Presumed Dead

Prompts List | Event Masterpost

Hero x Villain Masterpost | <- Previous Part | Next Part ->

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1500

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf @doctorsawyer @pinkrangerv

CW: swearing, death threats, referenced injury, secrets, collapsed building, paranoia, gun, unconsciousness, burns, handcuffs, ambushed

A/N: Bet you thought it couldn't get worse. It can absolutely get worse.

----------

“I think I might actually strangle Leader. With my bare hands.”

“Mhm…” Villain agreed, eyes on the road as they sped through the darkened city streets. It was long past midnight, and few people were out this late, but the last thing they needed was a car accident on top of everything else.

“It would take thirty minutes, at most, to call up a hero from one of the neighboring cities to come dig them out. But does Leader do that? No… Leader evacuates the fucking area and specifically instructs Techie to not call for reinforcements while they get a damn machine to dig them out.”

Villain hissed through their teeth. “Antihero tells me they’re trying to pin the fire on them. Or me. Or one of the other villains so that they can go on a city-wide manhunt. Or something. Hell if they know, but they’re lying low.”

As we should be doing. Villain didn’t voice the thought. It wouldn’t be fair to Hero, who’d just discovered that Youngest had gotten buried and abandoned beneath a building. Once they’d learned that there was the slightest possibility of Youngest being alive underneath all that, they insisted Villain drive them out to the collapsed building so they could get them out.

Hero hadn’t revealed the source of their information, but Villain had their suspicions. The back of their neck prickled, and they checked the rearview mirror. Nothing. But that didn’t mean they weren’t being watched.

They reached the site of the apartment that had collapsed only a couple hours before. Hero’s former team had just departed, and although emergency personnel were still around, it was the perfect time to sneak in and dig Youngest out before their team returned. Villain parked their car as close as they dared, and as soon as they shut off the engine, Hero darted out the door, scrambling silently over the rubble. 

Villain followed cautiously, their gun pointed at the ground. The air reeked of dust and burned plastic, and much of the building’s remains were still soaked from the water used to put out the remaining fires after it collapsed. Charred pieces of furniture were scattered about the site, a reminder of all the victims had lost. A red velvet loveseat, the upholstering blackened and melting. A shattered television. A broken bunk bed, blue paint peeling away from the frame.

They hurried to catch up with Hero. They would be distracted while moving the broken concrete and wood and plaster, and they couldn’t afford to get ambushed. “Be quick,” Villain hissed, eyes darting to the emergency vehicles. Most of them had left by now, ferrying victims to the hospital, and the area had long ago been taped off. Villain’s back prickled. They didn’t like how exposed they were.

Hero paused at a spot that appeared no different from every other spot in the mess of debris. “They’re under here,” they whispered, reaching a hand out, brow furrowed in concentration.

“How do you know that?”

“I’ll explain when we’re safe.”

Villain clenched their jaw and glanced over their shoulder. Since when were they ever “safe”? They both lived in constant fear of discovery, of Hero’s team finally tracking them down, killing them, or worse. Villain didn’t have an infinite amount of favors to call. They’d been forced to relocate safehouses twice since Villain had rescued Hero, and although each time had been a fair trade, Villain was keenly aware of the amount of danger the pair of them presented.

Villain. So-called crime boss who supposedly took control of their part of the city through force. It wasn’t entirely untrue, but the people who resided in the area insisted that the previous crime boss had been so much worse. They’d declared Villain their protector on live television several times. And yet the media still framed them as a villain, someone to be imprisoned for standing up for their people.

In a way, the people Villain watched over also protected them. Their generosity surprised Hero sometimes, how they seemed to genuinely like Villain.

Hero. Presumed dead to the public. Still wanted dead or alive by their team. Perhaps they were the source of some of Villain’s current problems, but Villain didn’t care. They would rather die than see Hero return to their team, willingly or otherwise. Endearing in their morals and personality and their crooked smile and the way their shoulders shook when they laughed and how—

Villain shook their head. Now is not the time to be daydreaming. Hero needs you to keep watch, dammit!

They turned in a slow circle again, narrowing their eyes at the paramedics the next block over as Hero continued to burrow through the rubble. “Almost… there…” they muttered, both hands now over the spot where they claimed Youngest was buried. 

Villain heard a faint scraping sound from deep within the pit, and Hero’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Got them!” They briefly glanced at Villain. “I need you to get down there and pull them out. I don’t think I have the focus to keep the pit stable and drag them up at the same time.”

Villain hissed between their teeth, tucking their gun into its holster. “Okay, but you must get down as low as possible. I can’t keep watch down there.”

Hero nodded, doing as Villain suggested and carefully lowering themself to a seated position, hands still above the pit. Villain peered down the hole, noting the faintest reflection of something at the bottom. They exhaled slowly, steeling themself, and slid inside, using large chunks of stone as handholds to keep from falling.

The stink of burned wood and plastic was much stronger down here. Villain breathed shallowly, glad their mask could filter out the larger particles, even if it couldn’t block the smell. Despite the precarious nature of their descent, their handholds were surprisingly stable. They’d have to thank Hero when they got out. How they would blush at the praise, their ears turning as red as their cheeks—

Focus.

Villain reached the bottom of the pit to find a thick layer of ice between them and Youngest. They must’ve constructed it hastily to protect themself from the falling debris. Clever.

Hero had managed to unearth the majority of the ice barrier, so Villain was confident they could break it without worrying about the hundreds of tons of rubble collapsing on their heads. Finding a thick piece of metal—likely had once been a sculpture of some kind—Villain began to hammer the sharp end into the surface of the ice.

Slam!

Slam!

Crack!

The ice broke on the third strike. Villain slammed the sculpture into the break a fourth time.

A fifth.

A sixth.

On the seventh hit, the ice shattered. Villain pitched forward and barely managed to catch themself on the edge of the pit as the surface crumbled beneath them, revealing Youngest.

They were in bad shape. Their costume was charred, with bad burns on their hand and their shoulder, their face pale, their eyes closed, and they were covered in dust and ash. Villain crouched next to them, letting the sculpture fall to the ground with a clatter.

Youngest still breathed, their chest rising and falling shallowly, and their heart beat weakly. Even as Villain carefully picked them up, as they draped Youngest’s unconscious body across their own and fixed it in place with straps, their mind raced with the sheer amount of injuries that they didn’t see. 

Smoke inhalation. Power exhaustion. Oxygen deprivation. Potential sprains. Hidden bruises. The possibilities ran through Villain’s mind as they scaled the edge of the pit. Caring for Youngest would be far beyond Villain’s capabilities. They needed a hospital. Or at least a hero with healing powers. Villain could think of one they might be able to convince to help.

They exhaled with relief as they scrambled out of the pit. “I got them Hero,” they said, unstrapping Youngest and lowering them to the ground, “but I think we’re going to have to get help from—”

Villain’s words cut off abruptly as someone grabbed them roughly from behind, pinning their arms behind their back. They cried out, slamming their head back against their unseen attacker’s face. Their assailant grunted but did not loosen their grip.

Shitshitshit—

They kicked and squirmed as they were dragged away from the pit. Away from Youngest. Away from—

“I would suggest you stop struggling, Villain. Unless you want Hero to die an unpleasant death.”

Villain froze as they were spun around and took in the situation. Hero knelt on the uneven ground, hands now in the process of being cuffed, Sound Gun’s weapon inches from their head. It wasn’t Sound Gun who had spoken, though. It was Leader.

Leader smirked at the shocked look on Villain’s face. “I must thank you, really, for rescuing one of my team. I’m so grateful, it almost makes me want to let you both go free.” Their expression darkened, their smile becoming one of a twisted sort of glee. “Almost.”

[hywenhei]

RADIATION POISONING: Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.”

CW: swearing (towards the end)

"The tracker- it isn't working. We don't know where Whumpee escaped to." "Ah, a clever little trickster that one is. Oh well, they won't get far anyways. Not in their state."

Character A and Character B are on opposite sides of a war, and one day, during a battle, one of their teammate's attacks is so powerful that it brings down a building on top of the fighters. A and B find themselves trapped in a small air pocket in the rubble, with both of them having to sit and wait for rescue. During this time, A and B get to know each other, able to talk freely about their lives without being punished for fraternising with the enemy. The only problem is, Character A has a fatal wound that they're struggling to keep hidden from B; so what happens when they manage to spot a growing bloodstain on A's shirt?

Alternate ending to the last prompt: A's rescue team shows up first to the wreckage and manages to uncover A and B. A is easily welcomed back into the team, but they're now given a choice by their teammates: help B out and let them live, or seal them back into the rubble? (Bonus points if A used to hate B's side more than any other team member.)

"Whumpee- Whumpee, can you hear me? No, don't go into that room with them, it's a trap! Shit, why aren't the comms working properl- Whumpee!"

me when florence and the machine recognition: o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o so so so excited to watch the bbc proms performances :]

anyways see you tomorrow for day 25!!

[aceofwhump]

Torchwood 2x12 "Fragments"

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2024 - Day 14

Left for Dead

Contains: generic characters, collapsed building, mild blood, abandonment, trapped

The shriek of metal scraping, the deafening crash of concrete and wood, the dust billowing into the air seemed like it was never going to end. 

Then it did, and somehow, Whumpee was still awake.

Somehow, they were still alive.

Their entire body was alight with pain as if it was on fire. Tipping their head back, they opened their mouth to scream, but their throat was coated with blood and dust and all that came out was a fit of coughing that felt like it was ripping them in half. 

“Whumpee!” 

The voice echoed from somewhere above the rubble. Again, they tried to force out words, a scream, something. Anything to let their teammates know that they were still alive down there. 

“Teammate, we’ve got to go!” That was Leader, their voice just barely audible. 

“No, but…Whumpee! They’re in there, we’ve got to -”

“We can’t. I’m…I’m sorry, Teammate. There’s no way they could have survived that, and we have to get out of here. It’s not safe!”

No, please don’t…don’t leave me down here! I’m here, I’m alive, I can hear you!

“I can’t just leave them!”

There was a distant rumble, followed by more crashing. The impact vibrated the ground underneath Whumpee. 

“Teammate, please. It’s too late for Whumpee. Let me protect the rest of you.”

Whumpee strained to hear a reply, but was met with only deafening silence. 

They were trapped and alone. 

[crimsonlyinglilly]

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING Collapsed Building

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure |  “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

Here's Day 24 of @whumptober 2024, a little late still on catch up.

Familiar Faces - Elijah Gilbert finds he's not as okay with the ancestors as he claimed and even with a thousand years of memories, his temper is that of a nineteen year old boy.

Set TO 1x14

---

Elijah had been angry before, Niklaus and Rebekah missing, Celeste finally acting after he had mistakenly allowed himself to play her game, but that had taken a back seat to the white noise of rage he was now feeling.

“Aunt Sophie was a casualty of war.” Monique had smiled.

Seeing Sophie’s body had caused him to freeze, they had at most been distant allies due to their goals, but she had reminded him of aunt Jenna.

Everything she had done was for her niece and this was how her niece repaid her.

“Now listen her you-” his brother started

“Kol” he called lightly, “Leave us.”

“I'm not leaving you, in case you’ve-” Kol tried to argue normally he’d have a point but he couldn’t be here for this, he’d be a target if Elijah lost control, and he knew he wouldn't be able to regain control if he harmed his family.

“Go.” he ordered, watching the tremor of the brick dust, Kol looked between it and him “trust me on this.” he smiled tightly. “Please” he added after a moment.

“Fine.” Kol snapped before vanishing with inhuman speed.

“Monique,” he turned his clipped words to her, “I recommend you give me what I want. Unless, of course, you'd like me to level this place and everything in it.” he warned.

No promise of her life, he wasn’t going to offer something he knew he would break.

“That won't be necessary. I have a message for you from Celeste.” she told him as she raised her hand towards him.

Elijah allows it, keeping his breathing calm and a control of his magic that wished to lash out at the invasion as he feels the uncomfortable sensation on his skin. He unbuttons the top of his shirt to find an unfamiliar name stark against his skin.

Theresa

Monique continues the spell as he feels what was likely more names until he pulls his shirt sleeve up to find a name he knew.

Sabine

Celeste’s bodies, he assumed and had a brief thought that he hoped the spell maintained itself beyond Monquie’s death.

“To find what you're looking for, follow the path she left behind.” Monquie told him cryptically.

He looked at her and smiled.

He was well aware of the difference between himself now and that of him two hundred years ago, of his original body; Kol’s protectiveness, the time it took him to heal if he didn’t use magic to speed it up, the need for sleep, the lack of hunger for blood. The fact, he now needed to concentrate to channel his original senses, speed and strength and couldn’t keep it up for long before he had to face the backlash of a human body.

But more insidious was the mental change he rarely notices until it was too late, he took foolish risks he wouldn’t have before, acted on impulse.

He might have the memories of a thousand years of life but he was still a teenager, he was starting to understand why he had so much trouble managing his siblings' chaos, it seemed half the time they weren’t going out of their way to make his life difficult, they just truly weren’t thinking.

Most recently it was his attempted relationship with Katarina after she killed Jeremy, the rift between him and Elena and his foolishness of playing along with Celeste’s game. 

Now though he was well aware he was about to do something he wouldn’t have two centuries ago, but he didn’t care, he was too angry.

“I'm sorry.” he told her, honestly.

“What for?” she asked, all pride and confidence, why not she was chosen by the ancestors, had more magic than most witches could dream of.

“I liked your aunt.”

“She didn't believe-” she started,

“In your ancestors,” he finished for her, “that's fair, it's their fault you're going to die.” he paused before adding “Again.” 

“What?” she asked with a smirk, her eyebrow raised in surprise but not a hint of fear, foolish but teenagers made mistakes and it seemed the Ancestors hadn’t paid attention to what their actions had brought forth, fair Elijah himself had been hiding it from himself for two, nearly three lives.

“Had they not led to my current circumstances, you'd get to live.” he said, it was true two hundred years ago he would have left her alive for future use and to maintain peace with the covens in case they needed a witches assistance now there was nothing they could offer that he couldn’t manage himself or get help from others.

He rolled his shoulder and lightly spread his arms while glancing at those around him, the adults who had tensed at his threat to her but did nothing when the ancestors were the ones to threaten and lead them to their deaths, ‘Sheep’ he thought disappointingly, had the witches of New Orleans always been so pathetic? Or it was the teenage arrogance he was letting himself fall into. 

“Interfere and you all die.” he warned.

“What are you talking about?” Monique laughed, gesturing to the rest to step back. “You can’t do anything to us, one half trained witch against us.”

They thought he was just a witch with the memories of his old life, easier to kill than before, but a witch alone without a coven, without ancestors to back him up. A mistake for them and by doing this he would be showing his hand, not all. as long as he kept control but he would be making himself a threat to them.

He was without a coven by choice, Grams had tried, Bonnie too but Elijah couldn’t allow his mistake to affect them. He had made that decision before he knew what it was, back when Grams had first channelled him to find the source of his magic and reacted with horror

“I liked your aunt,” he repeated, “she reminded me of my own and I hate betrayal.” 

He always had and yet forgave his family when they betrayed him and had failed and betrayed those they trusted. Maybe he was a hypocrite but he had never denied that, he would do anything for his family even those he wasn’t happy with.

“She betrayed her kind, went to a vampire to-” Monique began only to stop when he started to chuckle.

He was reminded of Elena with her humanity off coldly threatening aunt Jenna, Monique had no such excuse, other than perhaps the ancestors had forgotten their own humanity over their death and spread it to her.

In a way they weren’t any better than vampires.

“Would you like to know the difference between us?” he asked somewhat patronisingly. 

“I’m stronger, a true witch while you're just a vampire in a temporary body.” she sneered and he almost grinned as he realised he had gotten onto her nerves, understandable he had discovered his own hatred for being spoken to like a child, but it was far truer for her than him.

“True and true,” he nodded, “but I mean between those who like you use ancestral magic and those who use Nature.”

“Do you want a lesson?” she scoffed at him “the ancestors amplify and guild us, they may act as a conduit between us and that of nature but the rewards of their knowledge and wisdom he worth it.”

“There’s another,” he added “witches nature allowed to make a mistake who gain too much power within themselves or find a more twisted way of gaining it.” he explained. “I was taught how to channel nature by a Bennet witch because the magic I hold within me was that type.Normally it isn’t a problem as long as I don't use too much of it I have control.” he shrugged “but my patience and temper isn’t what it once was.”

“You can't beat me.” She claimed, he smiled sadly, all inexperienced and young, a waste of last words but it was her second chance at life, perhaps they were better than her last ones.

Poor Davina, her friend was going to die before she was returned, but with Monique and Celeste deaths, it would increase the chances of Davina’s return.

“You are stronger than me, that is true,” he admitted before changing his words “or better said able to use more power with control but I only need to be stronger for a second.” 

He appeared in front of her channelling his original body’s speed and placed a hand on her chest, the pendent Kol found for him from one of his collections, in hopes to help control his own magic, in his palm.

It hadn’t been of use to them, his magic too entwined with his soul but it was perfect now as he used his magic to tear at hers, it took more than he had used before, to combat the full force of a harvest girl and the ancestors but as he had said it only took a second of surprise to weaken her.

Monique died quickly, faster than her aunt most likely, as he tore her power from her and stepped back letting her body drop.

Her wide eyed confusion might have haunted him if he truly was a nineteen year old witch, but he wasn’t and she was just another person he killed in a thousand years.

He wondered if the ancestors would return her again, when he returned the magic they would need to do it.

“It seems you all forgot who I am,” he declared to the witches surrounding him to ignore the laughing cheers within his own head. “You aren't playing with my baby brother, Niklaus.”

He felt the magic build around him as his own built within him, before the witch could finish their spell he projected his own forwards to send a warning to the witches around him and the ancestors.

The Deveraux mausoleum in front of him cracked and crumbled and the ground and other tombs around him shook.

The magic around him faded as he looked at the witches and they stepped back.

“I'm done playing nice with the ancestors and I'm done allowing Celeste's toy with me.” he told them as he locked the power back away, ignoring the arguments from his mistake as he did so. 

Come one boss, you can do so much more.

“You want your harvest girl’s power back, I want the shard of my soul that Celeste has been using.” He told them as he made eye contact with several of the collective before he turned and walked away. “I’m sure your ancestors can pass that message along.”

The rage he felt towards Monique faded leaving him with the feeling of her last spell on his skin and again his anger towards Celeste returned.

His nose didn’t start bleeding until he left the cemetery and Kol appeared in front of him with a handkerchief and a concerned judgemental frown.

“Really?” Kol asked.

“Please don’t start.” he pleaded as he held the cloth to his nose. His younger brother sighed before slipping an arm over his shoulder and whisking them away from the witches.