#Internal Bleed

[knifearo]

this year my challenge for everyone is to unlearn the association between love and morality. love is not something that is inherently morally good, and the absence of love is not something that is inherently bad. sex without love isn't morally bankrupt, it's just an action. people without love aren't less kind or less good, they're just people. when we can get past this false (and often unnoticed) dichotomy of good love/evil lovelessness then i think we are going to be able to take leaps and bounds in sex positivity, aro advocacy, certain discussions of mental health...

[elgaberino-mcoc]

Blood Brothers Fan-made kit by content creator Kalantak

Blood Brothers made up abilities. do you think , we could get someone like them in near future since moleman has two models in game as well .any thoughts @xgabo @KabamJ @imaginejim @elgaberino_MCOC @Moo00se_MCOC @MarvelChampions   #bloodbrothers #Marvel #mcoc

- Kalantak

[pokeberry5]

(who's gonna save you, hero?)

i love whump fics where tim ends up on the ropes alone and doesn't know if anyone's gonna reach him in time

i really really love leonardo romero's inks and jordie bellaire's colors from the "i am the gun" mini telling the zur-en arrh backstory (in batman issues #128-130), so this is another loose style study

i had this frame in mind specifically, altho i couldnt quite commit to the hard inks

ALSO the concept was loosely based off the issues in legacy ('tec (1940) #698-99) where tim goes undercover and then gets nabbed by lockup and his comm cuts off in the middle of telling nightwing what's going on, which also gave us this great (but misleading) cover

[technically-human]

To relive a death

@williamvapespeare commissioned me to draw anything with the boys being gentle to each other and Edwin comforting Charles in general, so we went with this!

The idea of a character who is dead having to go through it once a year is very dear and near to my heart (how many dead blorbos do you have, I hear you ask. Too many) but at least these two have each other

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

vaggie, miss "im not used to fighting with long hair" who's out of practice actually battling someone or really stabbing ppl...

...still had the arm and hand strength, the REFLEXES, to do a bare handed blade catch on a SWORD, who's user had been doing an aerial dive with it aimed at vaggie's FACE

then sling around and THROW her opponent with it

i know she wants a peaceful-ish life with charlie, but i really wouldn't mind seeing her getting into just a FEW more fights >:D

also also side note: carmilla was able to eff her up earlier so easily bc vaggie fought like an exorcist, no thought to getting hurt or personal defense, the headspace of 'i can't get killed! wheee! DIE DIE DIE' that got that other exorcist killed

and the main advice vaggie got from carmilla was take advantage of that sure, but first and more importantly, defend yourself better

which kinda plays into the whole "be out for love thing" too

aka the fight isn't important, it's what you're fighting to still have Afterwards that matters- the people you love, having a life with them

(the hotel, the hazbins, charlie)

carmilla doesn't send vaggie off with a 'you're ready to go kill angels'. she's only satisfied and ends their little lesson / sparring match when she can say "you might just survive this"

feels like she wasn't teaching vaggie to take out angels. she was reminding her and showing her how NOT to get KILLED

so it's just so nice seeing vaggie blocking, dodging, and grappling lute later. how good she is at focusing on avoiding or neutralizing those attacks aimed at her. how Seriously she takes them

binding lute's both lute's arms and wedging them into her own body so lute's sword CAN'T be angled towards her

the way this shot emphasis's the THREAT of the sword hanging over vaggie

and how her flash-fast recovery and block shows she's READY for it

dodging, not attacking

she's not in this for blood or vengeance, this lady is trying to stay the fuck alive. she's got things and people to live for

things like the idea of mercy. that thing both her and charlie show their enemies, people who came down to hell for murder and spent this fight trying to kill them and got damn close to doing it.

and sure there's a pretty big tone difference between charlie's "Whoa whoa dad. He's had enough" and vaggie's "No, live. Live knowing that you only do because I let you" but both end at the same place, with someone who hates them still getting a second chance

(UNLESS ITS NIFFTY WITH THE ANGELIC BLAAADE)

and vaggie wants that second chance too. she wants a life with charlie, and fights hard so she can stick around for it

epic fail, lute... have you considered getting a hobby...?

[allgremlinart]

see the REAL reason they killed off Jet was because if he lived and he got the required Southern Raiders-style field trip episode with Zuko they would have like just killed the guy. like no this time actually we're killing the guy. yeah nobody is learning anything its just murder in this one. and also because theyyyyy would have had horrible gay sex about it too. him and you know. the two of them.

[stil-lindigo]

LINK

Israel immediately broke the ceasefire by the way.

[valtsv]

SAINTS OF FIRE AND MUD. SAINTS OF SKY AND EARTH AND RAIN. EVERY ONE OF THEM HUNGERING. EVERY ONE OF THEM GRASPING FOR SPIRIT AND FLESH.

[mishy-mashy]

Something I made in a post that I think'll be lost in the texts + expanded a bit more

These panels are chronological events following AFO's pursuit of Yoichi's Factor.

AFO could tell if people were related through a Quirk. AFO and OFA also are connected to each other. In Kamino, AFO could confidently tell All Might that OFA had been passed on, so all that All Might had left were leftover embers.

When AFO killed Kudo, he asked where Yoichi was. He knew Kudo wasn't the holder of Yoichi's Factor at that time. He also realized when looking at Yoichi's hand that Yoichi's natural Factor was so weak he hadn't registered its existence. This implies AFO could sense Factors since he was young, and Yoichi's natural Factor never stood out to him.

Below are three panels of Bruce (right to left). Bruce fought, AFO killed him, and looked away in disinterest.

When he beat down Bruce, he already had a sense that Bruce didn't hold the Factor anymore. That's why, rather than yell in his face to figure out where it is and interrogate for a long time, he pulled up his corpse to inspect him better.

Bruce's corpse isn't resisting anything. Look at his feet; AFO literally dragged him. Bruce is already dead. Yet he's looking for something from him.

Bruce doesn't have anything for him. Nothing AFO wants.

When he looks away, he's dismissing Bruce, because Bruce doesn't hold Yoichi. AFO is wondering where Yoichi is, because he knows now that he's out there somewhere. Thus the pensive look to the wind.

After Bruce is killed, AFO and Garaki meet for the first time. Shinomori has Yoichi at this time, and AFO never comes close to him, so AFO is lost. He doesn't have any leads, and Yoichi has vanished.

Now that he knows Yoichi can transfer, it's possible for Yoichi to be kept out of his reach for the rest of his life. So meeting Garaki and having access to Life Force gives AFO more time to search.

Yoichi is still missing for 18 years though, because Shinomori is in hiding. AFO couldn't find him during the Fourth's turn.

This is why, when he encounters Banjo, the Fifth and active wielder of OFA [Yoichi], AFO is smiling.

It's been a long time, but Yoichi's in reach again. He knows where he is now. And this is the first time he's encountered the current holder.

Thus his shock.

[Yet... you never behave as I wish.]

It was the first time a Quirk wouldn't let itself be stolen. This was AFO's first encounter with this wall: it doesn't transfer without the holder's consent, and requires willpower stronger than all the holders combined to override that.

The holder is never going to give him that consent. To override the collective willpower, he's going to need something greater.

Meanwhile, look at Banjo's arms. Shinomori is the catalyst to tip OFA over the edge, that an unprepared vessel will be destroyed by how strong the Quirk is.

Banjo's arms are both messed up below the shoulder, just like Midoriya used to be. And like Midoriya uses Blackwhip to reinforce himself and stay standing, Banjo uses Blackwhip to hold his fist / arm together. His hand is being wrapped to stay in a fist.

(What I think is) The reason the limbs turn red, and then purple, from breakage, is a matter of blood vessels. Small, itty bitty, fragile things.

Using OFA breaks the whole area, from bones to blood vessels, causing internal bleeding. Thus the redness. But breaking those vessels again in a second go turns the area purple, because it causes instantaneous internal bruising.

But En wasn't ripped apart by using OFA. There's a cut on his thumb that lines up with the path of destruction; AFO sliced him in half. Otherwise, he wouldn't have that cut if it were just OFA.

It's hidden by the text in [... you never behave as I wish], but depending on where you see this chapter, you can see he got cut on the thumb. It's clearer where we see Nana take his hair from him, in [I only want... to make you mine!]

I have a post in drafts about En being cut in half rather than it being because of OFA, but I also hit an image limit, so I'm gonna end here. Ta.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Silver

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two |

CW: Some brief moments of dehumanization, referenced captivity and torture, referenced death/murder

-

“I have no idea where we’re even going.” 

Eden flexed his fingers, stretching them out and then closing them back around the steering wheel. His head felt like it was full of wet cotton, heavy and soft and soaking into every wrinkle of his brain. 

Apparently driving on two hours of sleep wasn’t the best way to handle these things. Not that they had a choice. Well, they did have a choice, but Anaya wasn’t about to let him make it. She was determined to keep going as long as they could.

“Just drive east,” She said, as if she could hear him thinking. “We have a full tank of gas, we can go for hours.”

“Hours?” He couldn’t quite suppress the way his voice sounded pouting, a toddler throwing a tantrum in the middle of a store. He took a deep breath and tried to straighten his spine.

Still, every pothole, bump in the road, or swerving too-tight turn brought an answering whimper or soft whine from the back and Eden’s nerves were fraying more every single time. 

His heart twisted at the simple sounds of pain, sure - he knew it had to hurt like hell, lying there with a stitched-up leg and only some expired hydrocodone from an old surgery Eden had had years ago for the pain, but Eden’s own head was throbbing with a lack of sleep, his eyes felt hot and dry, and a muscle in his jaw had begun to twitch as he kept grinding his teeth.

He had to push down the urge to snap at the boy to quiet down. It wasn’t his fault, Eden knew it wasn’t, but the anger still rose with every pulse of his heartbeat he could feel behind his eyes.

Added to all the other bullshit about today, they were in the middle of nowhere, a good hour from the next place Eden could think of to even grab half-decent coffee. They needed to find somewhere where they could park, somewhere nobody would look in the back and then ask about a thousand increasingly uncomfortable but honestly really understandable questions about the naked teenage boy back there.

The naked teenage boy covered in scars and wrapped in blankets, who badly needed a haircut and a hamburger and who hadn't spoken a fucking word since they started driving.

“Not too many. Four more hours of driving would get us to Missoula,” Anaya said, a little distracted, looking down at her phone. “I have a friend we could crash with there. Vanessa… she has an extra room, she says. Yeah. Four hours and twenty minutes to Missoula and then we can spend a couple days figuring this out-”

“Anaya.”

She blinked and looked over at him. “What?”

“We absolutely cannot take him to Missoula.” Eden had the urge to drop his head into his hands even as he made his careful way on the winding road, the darkly forested mountains they had been camping in rising high and dagger-edged behind them. Like they were angry at them taking the boy out of the woods and towards civilization.

Well, that was a weird thing to think.

“Of course we can,” Anaya said, frowning, puzzled. 

“No. We can’t. Missoula is in Montana."

"Yeah, I'm aware. But it's also only four hours away."

"Going to Missoula... that is a full on crazy idea, Naya, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. Why exactly is that crazy?” Anaya, bristling, set her phone down and twisted around in her seat to look back at the blanket lump behind them that was Misae, whose eyes were closed even as his expression was pinched with pain. “We all need sleep, right? All three of us do. Vanessa won’t ask too many questions.”

“If we show up with him, she probably should!”

“Why?”

“Anaya, for God’s sake… Taking a minor across state lines is fucking kidnapping!”

“Sure, if we had kidnapped him, but we didn’t! Somebody else did!”

“Okay, first of all, that isn’t how kidnapping works. We’re not playing fucking flag football with a human being. Also, we don’t know that he was kidnapped at all!”

“He said his family is dead! That means he was kidnapped by whoever killed them!”

“We. Don’t. Know. That. It just means they’re dead, it doesn’t say anything about how they died or how he ended up where he is. You’re… you’re just guessing at things we can’t prove, that might not even be true!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Her voice sharpened.

His own voice rose in response, louder than he intended. “He might have lied to us or something!” 

The boy in the back flinched, hands moving to cover his head, visible as a sudden shift in the rearview mirror. Misae groaned, muttering something to himself. Eden’s chest twisted in dismay as he realized there was a tiny spot of red starting to show through the blanket, which meant the poor kid had started bleeding through his bandages at some point. He needed them changed. Eden must not have done a good enough job putting pressure on the wound. The stitches were doing their best, but Eden’s first aid kit wasn’t great, and stitching someone up in the woods in a hurry was never going to work well anyway. He needed to redo the stitches, hopefully after a few hours of sleep and with steadier hands. Guilt prickled. “Sorry... I'm sorry, man. I don’t really think that you’re lying, exactly, it’s just… Maybe you told us what you thought we needed to hear so we’d help you. I’d honestly understand if you did.”

“Eden!” Anaya smacked at his shoulder. “You can’t just accuse him of lying!”

“I’m not trying to be accusing! I’m just trying to keep us from getting thrown in prison. Taking a minor over state lines isn’t just illegal, it’s a felony. We do not have enough knowledge about this situation right now to commit felonies for total strangers, even if they are bleeding all over my backseat!”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You took out the backseat.”

“... please don’t do that thing where you nitpick everything I say because you’re mad at me even though you know I’m right.”

Anaya opened her mouth, then closed it and looked away. "Yeah, okay." For Anaya, that was a white flag raised high. 

He took the truce she offered gladly. “Okay, so, we don’t know him well enough to commit a felony on his behalf, even though he’s bleeding all over my trunk.”

She relaxed a little - his acknowledgement of the nitpick was his way of flying a white flag, too. Then she sighed. “Well…” Anaya trailed off, then turned back around and looked at the road ahead as if it were personally offensive to her. “Okay, I can see your point. Maybe… maybe you’re right about this. Still, we don’t even know he’s from Idaho at all, he might have already been taken over state lines? We’re… there’s no way we’re the bad guys for helping him, is there?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I don’t think we are, and I absolutely agree that he needs help. I’m just… I’m just too tired to think straight about this, or maybe I’d have a better idea of what we should do. We need to stop so I can nap, so we can all nap. Yeah?”

“Fair enough.” Anaya tipped her head back against her seat, her black hair spilling in messy waves all around her shoulders and down to her ribcage. The clear light of morning turned her skin  Eden fell in love all over again.

He usually did, every time he looked at her. 

“Naptime for everybody,” She said, a little dreamily. “Sounds good. Does that sound good to you, too, Misae?”

The boy had to hear them, they weren’t keeping their voices particularly low, but he didn’t answer. He was lying down in the back of the car, everything but his injured leg curled up as tightly as he could get, existing in a kind of numb silence. 

Shock, Eden had thought at first. Now his mind skipped back to the sight of the scars the kid was covered in, and he wondered if he just was too used to being hurt and simply didn't think this kind of thing was worth even remarking on. Or... maybe he was used to getting hurt worse if he spoke up about the pain. Maybe it had been safer to be silent.

Still... at least the kid seemed to be getting some sleep. He'd clearly dozed on and off for most of the drive. He didn’t even seem to be listening to them now, when they were specifically talking about him. 

When Eden checked the mirror, all he saw was that reddish-brown hair with gray scattered throughout, sticking out like a puffball above the blankets he’d curled himself up beneath, which Eden did not allow himself to think was cute. The red stain on the blanket - was it a little bigger than the last time he’d looked?

Shit.

“Right." He hummed, changing lanes. "Also, not to like harp on this or anything, but… what if somebody’s still looking for him?”

Anaya’s thoughtful frown deepened. “He said that his family-”

“Is dead, no, I know he said that. I’m not talking about family, not exactly. But that guy with the gun, he said something about finding bodies on their land before, remember? Like this isn’t the first time. And he was clearly hunting that wolf. So… would they just give up looking?”

Anaya’s worry had her thumb shifting upwards, until she was absently nipping at her thumbnail, catching it between top and bottom teeth and worrying at a torn spot of skin along her cuticle. “I don’t know. I guess I figured they would, if he wasn’t on their land anymore, but…” 

Eden sighed, half-smiling as he reached out and put a hand over hers, pulling it back down and holding tight. “Stop that, baby.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Stop eating your hand,” Eden said, with long-suffering affection. Her fingers twined into his and he gave a short squeeze. She squeezed back.

“Eden, seriously, I’m not eating my-” Naya glanced down at her thumb, the nail already torn at one corner. She smiled a little. “Oh. I guess I was. Well, anyway, we should still help him, right? We can’t just leave some kid to bleed to death alone. If we don’t go to Missoula, what do we do next?”

“I honestly… I don’t know.” He had to pull his hand back - this road was way too full of curves to be safe to drive one-handed - but the simple gestures, old habits long built between them, settled his racing heart a little. He and Anaya had been together since before he’d dropped out of his residency, even, as friends at first and then they had realized more or less at the same time that 'just friends' had started being more without either of them noticing it. The memory of their simultaneous attempts to officially ask each other out, awkward and sweet, made everything about the day seem suddenly a little easier to handle. He took a deep breath. “I’m just saying that we don’t know anything about this kid, except that he got shot and he’s running from somebody named Bill.”

“We also know that he’s a werewolf,” Anaya pointed out. When Eden didn’t respond, she frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. Eden chanced a glance sidelong so he could see it - her squinty eyes always made her adorable, even if she’d get really, really mad if he told her that.

She saw him thinking it anyway.

Her eyes narrowed even more, but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “Eden Yarrow, you quit that.” Anaya hissed, badly hiding the smile that kept trying to creep over her, “This is not me joking. He’s a werewolf! You saw him being a wolf! We both saw that he’s a werewolf!”

“No, we didn’t. We definitely saw a wolf. We’re agreed on that. Then, later, we saw a kid hiding under my car. Two totally different events that happened literally hours apart.” He paused, letting the silence draw out. The radio droned in and out of whatever stations it could pick up this far away from anything at all. He winced when he heard a scrap of a sermon. The sound was too familiar not to feel like ghosts haunting him down to the bone, the echo of his father’s own thundering disappointment. “We don’t, technically speaking, actually know that they’re even related events.”

Anaya didn’t respond, but the sheer weight of her answering stare burned hot against his right cheek. He could have seen it with his eyes closed. He was vaguely afraid he’d end up with some kind of burn as a result.

Eden tried to wait her out. The silence drew out. The radio played part of a hip-hop song and then went back to static. 

Naya had always been better at the quiet game, though, and after only a couple of minutes he gave up trying and just sighed. “Okay, I admit it would be a really big coincidence-”

“Yeah, I’d say it would be one hell of a coincidence!” She drew the word out, gave it syllables it didn’t even have. “I mean, sure, it’s a coincidence, in the same way that Batman and Bruce Wayne are coincidentally never seen in the same room at the same time-”

“Don’t you bring Batman into this.”

“Fine. Clark Kent and Superman, then.”

“Now you’re just listing every superhero.”

“Look, if you want to play this game, I could do this for days. We’ll die of dehydration before I run out of superheroes and their secret identities.”

He didn’t know if she looked as smug as she sounded, but he knew if he looked he’d start laughing and this whole conversation would be a wash.

“... Fine. Yeah, okay, you win. I’ll accept it. Werewolves are real. Men who turn into fucking wolves on the full moon, totally real. Oh, and cherry on top of the sundae, there’s one in the back of my car right now. Pure insanity, but sure.”

“Insanity. Right. But wouldn't you-... wouldn't-" The corner of her mouth twitched upwards again. She muttered under her breath, and had to put her hands up over her face. Her shoulders shook a little.

Eden sighed. His headache was getting worse. Even his arms felt weirdly heavy. They passed a road sign advertising a rest stop coming up, and he shifted into the right lane, not bothering with a turn signal. There was nobody but them and a handful of tractor trailers and like two other cars on the road right now anyway. “What?”

Anaya shook her head. She still had her hands over her mouth. “You won’t like it.”

“Why not? Just tell me. What’s so damn funny?”

“Would you say it's insanity... or..." She said, her voice slightly cracked with suppressed laughter. “Eden. Listen. Wouldn't it more accurately be... lunacy? Get it? Like the moon? Lunacy? Werewolves and the m-”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Eden muttered. “Isn’t the guy in the relationship supposed to do the stupid dad jokes? Anaya, I am not laughing.”

“Hi, Not Laughing, I’m Anaya.” She threw her head back, the sound of her laughter bouncing around the inside of the car. A little delirious with her own exhaustion. It made Eden feel warm to hear it, even as he heard the boy in the back shift around for the first time. In the mirror, he caught sight of those unsettling light brown eyes, glinting gold with reflected sun, as the kid lifted his head enough to stare at Anaya like she’d grown four new arms. 

Wolf eyes.

He had to admit it.

The kid did not have human eyes at all. 

He took the exit for the rest stop, relieved to break eye contact. It had felt almost like a physical weight, demanding to be recognized even though the kid remained quiet. 

He was unsurprised to see a few semi trucks already parked alongside three regular cars. A small family sat eating what was clearly a kind of picnic breakfast at a small table in the morning sunlight. Another man had a dog on a leash sniffing around the edges of a trash can.

The boy must have seen the man with the dog, too. He made a sound, low in his throat, shifting over to get a better look through the backseat window. The sound he made was like a rumble, eyes laser focused on the man and his dog, and suddenly the mess of his hair seemed almost to stick out more than it had before. He shifted as Eden’s car passed by the two, his injured leg dragging a little as he tried to kneel, hands against the glass. 

Eden pulled into a parking spot at the very end of the row, as far away from anyone else as he could get, and just sat there, blinking. Then the nature of the sound seemed to suddenly make itself clear to him all at once. “What the hell? Dude, are you trying to growl? Anaya, he’s growling. Like a-”

“Wolf?” Anaya asked the question in a tone of pure and perfect innocence. When Eden glanced at her, her eyebrows were raised nearly to her hairline. “Would you say it was a wolflike sound, there, Eden? Canine, perhaps?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” He snapped, but his heart wasn’t in it. Anaya reached out to take his hand, pulling his knuckles to her lips to kiss them, one by one. He found himself relaxing until his head dropped back against the headrest. The world swam in front of him, the trees that lined the rest stop shifting in and out of focus.

God, he needed some sleep. 

Anaya yawned, Eden yawned - and then, in the back, he heard the unmistakable sound of Misae yawning, too. Anaya rolled her shoulders, then shifted to open the door and step out. “I’m going to go check and see if this place has one of those coffee vending machines. You want anything?”

“Granola bar or protein bar, if they got one. Also coffee. Not that it'll do much good. Anything for you?” He looked back at the mirror again when there wasn’t an answer. “Hey. Wolfboy.”

Misae looked away from him. Eden could read his expression well enough, though. He looked… hurt. His shoulders slumped, inching up towards his chin, and he sat back down. 

Anaya frowned. “I think we just insulted him.”

“Oh.” Eden cleared his throat. “Uh… Misae. Is ‘wolfboy’ bad? Not a good nickname?”

The boy’s eyes dropped down as he licked at his lips, taking in a deep breath and then slowly letting it out. His eyes cut off to one side, refusing to look back. An uncomfortable, heavy silence weighed all of them down. 

Just as Eden was about to give up waiting for him to speak and tell Anaya to go on and get the food, Misae cleared his throat. His words came out halting and hesitant, speaking slowly. “It’s fine. Just water, please.”

Anaya nodded. “You got it. Any food for you? You’ve got to be hungry by now, right?”

Misae didn’t respond this time, no matter how long they waited. He just blinked. 

Anaya sighed and then shrugged at Eden. “I’ll get him something,” She said, voice low, and then walked away, the car closing gently behind her. Misae watched her go, eyebrows furrowing a little in something like worry. The two men watched Anaya disappear into the rest stop building.

After a couple of minutes had passed, Misae whined. The tone was a little different than it had been before - not pain, but… concern. It was a deeply familiar sound, one Eden had heard a hundred times in his life or more. 

“Oh, stop it, she’s coming right back.” 

Silence from the back. 

Eden caught himself, and then made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. Even he wasn’t sure which he meant to do. “Sorry. I know you’re not a dog.”

"Was... shifted, for too long. Can't remember which I am sometimes."

"Oh. Uh... Sorry?"

Silence.

Eden sighed. “Boy, you are not a talker, huh.”

The quiet drew out for a while longer. Eden’s mind wandered, and he found himself picking up the silver bullet, turning it in circles so he could run his fingers over the markings carved into it. They looked almost like… runes. Only not like them at all. But the idea was the same - symbols drawn in straight lines and dots, the occasional half-circle curve. Some of them had been partly obliterated by being fired into a human being - or not a human being, maybe, at least not all the way - but he could still get a sense for them by running his fingers over the curves of the thing. 

It felt oddly heavy in his hands. When he tipped it to one side and then the other, something seemed to shift inside it. Was it full of buckshot? It was a miracle it hadn’t filled the kid’s body with shrapnel. If it had broken apart the way Eden had thought it would…

Well, sewing up the wound wouldn't have been enough to save him.

His lips pressed together into a line. Then, he turned to look back at Misae, who was watching Eden and the bullet, his eyes locked with unconcealed dread on the way the silver glinted in the sunlight. Eden’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Hey.”

Brown-gold eyes flicked to his, then back to the silver. 

“Will you hold this for me?” Eden held the bullet out, only to watch with wide eyed as Misae flinched violently backwards, crying out in pain as his injured leg was forced into motion. He stopped only when his back was pressed against the back windshield. He had to clutch at the blankets and pull them back up to cover himself, but briefly all his scarred-up nakedness, the parade of bruises in various stages of healing all over his body, the mix of uneven welts and sharp, perfect straight lines of damaged skin were all on terrible display.

Eden looked nervously out the windows, but nobody seemed to have noticed them. Good. The idea of having to explain what Misae doing in his car was... not even scary, just something so exhausting he couldn't even stand to think about it. He dropped the bullet back into the cupholder. “Silver really freaks you out, huh?”

Misae slowly nodded, but he didn’t relax or move back close. “Bad,” He said, hoarsely. “It’s bad.”

“Silver is bad? Like, it hurts you? Like mythology?"

“It hurts.” Misae’s chin jerked down in the nod, and he crossed his arms in front of himself. His face was pale, white under the darkened freckles. “It… burns me, cuts me, doesn’t heal.”

“It doesn’t heal?” Eden thought of the wound that was still, somehow, bleeding even though he’d stitched it up and bandaged it heavily. “Like, ever?”

“If it comes out, it will. Different then.” Misae’s shoulders hunched near his ears and he looked down, hair falling forward to shadow his eyes. “Heals too slowly. Always scars. I don’t… like to see silver.”

“Oh. Uh… sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t think… that it would scare you like that, but that makes sense. Hey, about earlier… do they call you that? The, uh, the people… where you’ve been living? Do they call you ‘wolfboy’? Is that why it bugged you when I said it?”

Another long pause. Speaking with Misae felt like dropping a coin into a well and having to wait way too long before you hear it splash. Eventually, those narrow shoulders shrugged. “Sometimes they call me that. Sometimes other things.”

“Other things?”

“Worse things.”

“Like what?”

Misae looked at him through shaggy bangs, lips thinning.

“Yeah… okay. You probably don’t want to just tell me the nasty bits, you barely know me.” Eden sighed, leaning over until his forehead touched the steering wheel, closing his eyes. He wondered if he’d just… doze off, if he kept them shut for too long. He started talking just to try and keep himself awake. “This has been… the weirdest day, man. I have a werewolf in my car. An injured werewolf. An injured teenage werewolf.” With his level of exhaustion, it suddenly seemed like a reasonable possibility. Sure, why wouldn’t there be werewolves? Why not? Why wouldn’t there be a werewolf with knobby elbows and long legs in the back of his stupid old car? 

Maybe Bigfoot was out there, too, and they’d catch him hitchhiking. Or fucking little green aliens in flying saucers. Why the hell not? Or even vampires, maybe. 

Maybe they’d find a vampire staked through the wrong part of their chest next with a thumb out for a ride and have to take them on a road trip, too. Like a fucked-up road trip movie. Maybe he’d walk into a fairy circle of mushrooms one morning and vanish, never to be seen again. Or wake up in three hundred years the same age he was when he went to sleep, or…

Maybe all of it was real, legends and myth. Maybe he didn’t notice because he’d never tried to read between the lines of reality before. 

If he was having thoughts like that, he desperately needed sleep. He had to force down a half-hysterical giggle and make himself focus on his next train of thought. It was getting more difficult to think at all. “The guy who shot you. The one we saw in the woods. Who is that?”

Pause. “Austin.”

“... Is Austin one of the people… you live with?”

“Sort of.”

“What… what does ‘sort of’ mean?” God, it was like pulling teeth that just kept growing deeper roots every time he asked a question, fighting harder to give him nothing. Kid didn’t exactly make himself easy to rescue, now did he?

No. That wasn’t fair. He’d gotten right into the car, he’d let Eden and Anaya drive him away without protest. He just… didn’t seem to find it easy to speak. 

“Austin lives in the house.”  

“Where do you live?”

Silence again, other than the soft sound of Misae breathing. 

Did he not want to answer? Or did he not know what Eden was asking, not pick up on it? Maybe he thought Eden was making fun of him somehow. Eden frowned, trying to think, to reword the question. “I’m asking seriously. Did you not live in the house? Where did you sleep? Come on. Talk to me, I’m trying to understand.”

Misae shrugged again. “Outside.”

That seemed to be all Misae was willing to give him. 

Eden listened as the boy behind him just laid back down against the back of the car, hissing through his teeth at the pain in his stitched-up leg. Eden glanced back in time to see him cover himself until even his hair vanished beneath the layers of quilted cotton blankets. Just an unmoving lump with a red splotch near the bottom. 

The boy was literally hiding from having to continue the conversation.

“Okay, guess we’re done with that, then,” Eden muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. His stubble was scratchy under his palms along his jaw, and the sensation sent a warmth through him. Felt pretty damn good, even though he knew it would drive him crazy if he didn’t get a chance to shave in the next couple of days.  

He decided, glutton for punishment that he was, to try one more time. “Are these people going to keep looking for you, even though we got you off their land?” After a long pause, he let his frustration bleed into his tone, and stopped trying to gentle it. “Just fucking answer me, okay, man? Are the people who shot you going to keep looking for you now?”

Misae’s muffled voice came, barely audible from under the blankets. “Yes.”

“What happens if they find you?”

Silence.

“God damn it, kid-”

“Containment!” Misae’s voice trembled, now, enough for Eden to hear it. The word seemed forced from him against his will, spat out like poison. He wondered suddenly if he wasn’t hiding from the conversation itself, but trying to hide his tears from view. Ashamed or even afraid of his own emotions. “Quarantine.”

A pit opened somewhere between Eden’s chest and his stomach. He shivered, despite the warmth of the sun shining on him through the window. Goosebumps raised on his arms until he rubbed at them with one hand. “What?” 

He glanced over at the rest stop building and saw Anaya through the glass doors. She stood off to one side at the vending machines, choosing something, looking down at her phone while she waited.

“Been in quarantine so he could fix us. But… but I left.” Misae hitched in an uneven breath, a whine at the edge of his exhale. Twisting canine noise into human speech. “Left.”

“Why did you leave?”

Misae looked to the side, his hopelessness a heavy weight in the car, pressing the both of them down. “Bill decided no one would ever get better. Can’t be fixed.”

“What does that mean? ‘Getting better?’” 

“Not… becoming. We might still hurt people. Make them sick, too."

“... You hurt people?”

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Misae licked at his lips again, looking away and then back, and Eden had trouble with the combination of a very human body echoing very canine traits over and over again. 

“So you were… kept in quarantine to keep you from hurting people?”

"From making them sick."

"... oh."

Eden felt like the next pause between sentences like a hammer bashing at his brain. His heart beat too hard. He looked up and saw Anaya heading back their way, a coffee in each hand, somehow balancing a water bottle between her arm and her side and with protein bars stuffed in her pockets. He swallowed, feeling a surreal and completely pointless urge to tell her to stay away. Get out, run, get help.

To what? Save him from the exhausted, frightened, injured boy in the back who clearly couldn’t have hurt a fly in his current state? The thought was ridiculous. Misae was the epitome of fucking harmless. 

Bill, whoever he was, was clearly a liar.

Then again… Eden thought of the wolf racing in the moonlight, stumbling through their campsite. 

In the end, Misae was the first one to speak again. He just said, voice flat, “Silver was supposed to fix us. Make us safe. But Bill said it wasn’t enough. It’s… it’s like rabies.”

“What’s like rabies?”

"The bite."

Eden cleared his throat. “Okay, so… that’s why you’re on your own? Because of what this Bill guy said about it not being treatable? So you ran away?"

Misae’s throat moved, adam’s apple shifting up and down. His lips twisted into something like a snarl before he closed his eyes tightly. He pulled one knee to his chest, the injured leg still stuck out straight, and closed his arms around it, hiding most of his face. His shoulders shook, and the tears in his voice couldn’t be hidden no matter how soft and hoarse he kept his words.

“I thought I did a good enough job pretending."

A pause.

“I didn’t know Austin would see me when I climbed out of it.”

“Out of what?”

“... The hole.”

Eden stared sightlessly ahead, feeling somehow like it would be easier for Misae if he wasn't looking. His heart beat hard and ice pushed through his veins. "The hole?"

"We were all buried together. I had to wait. I was... I was the only one who climbed out of the... it was a g-grave..." Misae began to cry, sobs shaking thin shoulders, hoarse rasping sobs that filled the whole space inside the little car.

Anaya returned, balancing coffee and water and granola bars stuffed into her pockets. She opened the car door and then froze, staring. Her eyes went from Misae to Eden. "What-... what happened while I was gone?"

Eden felt like his own eyes were too wide, ringed in white, when he met her gaze.

"We, uh." He cleared his throat. "Get in. You were right. Let's stop to sleep in Missoula."

-

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

By the way internal bleeding would make hypothermia worse (lack of heat) and hypothermia would make internal bleeding worse (lack of blood clots). Charles was FUCKED fucked

[whumpypepsigal]

Chicago Med s09e10: “Probably not a tension pneumothorax.” — “Hemo pneumo. You're bleeding into your chest.”

[quietbatperson]

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Okay, I'm way late on the prompt thing, but if you happen to still take them - or as something to hold onto for later - I'd love to see a little snippet from the ill-fated cruise ship HC Legend worked on!

Hadn’t there… been a storm? What…?

Link squinted against the bright sunlight, feeling sore and overheated, strangely stationary but still somehow dizzy. He heard seagulls, and—

Seagulls??

Groaning, Link opened his eyes, the sun seeming to shine directly into his eyeballs. What had happened??

“Link? Oh, you’re finally awake!”

He knew that voice. “Marin?”

The familiar face appeared in his vision next, red hair nearly radiant in the sunlight. She looked haggard, clothes a little torn, face flushed, hair a mess. “Oh, Link, I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“We’re on a beach,” Link slurred, completely disoriented. “Did we…? Weren’t we in a storm?”

“We were,” Marin answered, shadows covering her face all of a sudden. “We were.”

The heaviness of her tone made him nervous. Sitting up, Link looked around, seeing several life rafts strewn along the beach, alongside a handful of other people in various states of disarray. He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

They were… they were stranded, weren’t they?

“The ship…?” He looked at her, asking for confirmation.

She shook her head. “It’s gone.”

He already knew, really. He could put the pieces together. But hearing her say it made him feel his entire world flip. What were they supposed to do? Who had survived? How had he even gotten here, anyway? He just remembered the storm.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Marin repeated. “When you got thrown I was so worried.”

When he got thrown? He remembered huddling in the medical bay with Marin; they’d both known it was too dangerous to be anywhere on the deck, exposed to the weather. He must have hit something.

“How did I get here, though?” He asked.

“Well, you were awake for a bit, just kind of groggy,” Marin explained. “The captain said the ship was sinking, we all got on life rafts, but the storm flipped some and… we managed to make it here with the rest.”

“And the other medical crew?”

“They’re… they’re gone, Link. They’re all gone.”

Gone?? How could they--he knew those people, had worked with them, they were--

Link grimaced as he moved his arm, staring at a large gash slicing along it. Marin helpfully grabbed a first aid kit, noting, “This is all we have left for medical supplies. This and one other, that is. But… it isn’t much.”

It… he… they…

This was insane. This couldn't be happening.

Shaking his head, Link tried to orient himself to the situation, slowly straightening his posture as he reached shakily for the first aid kit. “How many others are injured?”

“A few,” Marin answered, hastily adding, “I’m okay, though, don’t worry.”

Link looked her over. She was certainly run down, but he didn’t see any immediate signs of injury. Based on her story, they… hadn’t been thrown around too much, right?

Right?

But how had he gotten this wound, then?

Shaking his head, Link tried to focus. “Can you help me triage the others?”

Marin nodded, determined, reaching to help him stand. Link refused to let everything sink in all at once.

They had work to do.

[whumpetywhump]

Fairyland Lovers - Ep. 26

[jasmines-library]

Hidden On The Inside

WHUMPTOBER DAY 21. Prompt: “Near death experience” Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: During a hunt, you take a nasty hit which at first seems fine, but it's what's hidden deep under the surface that creates a problem. (I get it, i suck and writing summaries.)

Warnings: Internal bleeding, hospitals, surgery.

Word count: 1.5k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You were a force to be reckoned with when it came to a fight. You were a strong and fierce opponent with an even stronger will. You had always been a fighter. Like Dean’s, your temper would flare up quickly in the face of any kind of challenge or injustice, and you typically responded with physical aggression.

You had been a hunter for many years, having grown up in the life much to your dads disapproval. When you were finally old enough, and after a lot of convincing, you were finally allowed to join your Dad on small hunts in the area. A ghost here, a vampire there. It was always the same routine—they'd enter a town, slip up, you and your dad would hunt them down before returning to the motel for some take out. But, one day when you were in your mid-twenties, your dad never made it home. It was that night that you met the Winchesters. They had given you a shoulder to cry on that night. It was a strange, yet kind gesture; to give a grieving stranger somewhere to feel safe. The three of you were thick and thieves after that night. You lived and hunted together and soon you began to feel as though a missing part of you had been filled. 

The three of you were hunting a pack of wolves. Child's play. But these wolves were abnormally strong, and it took almost all of your strength to push them back and kill them, but they were wearing thin too, and soon there was only a small handful of them left. One charged, baring its teeth at you. They two of you scuffled; quickly locked in a fight. As the fight dragged on with neither of you making much progress, the two of you tired quickly. But then in a flurry of moves, your opponent landed a series of punches and finally managed to fling you into the wall in a fit of rage. You hit the wall hard but didn’t make a sound. You just gritted your teeth and shrugged it off; you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. As the fight went on, the blows came harder and faster, with neither of you giving an inch. Until finally, he slipped up and you managed to jab him with your silver blade. 

“Are you okay?” Sam questioned as he sauntered back over to you after tossing the match onto the bodies. “I saw you hit the wall pretty hard.”

You rubbed the back of your neck dubietly. “Yeah. I’m fine. It was just a little unexpected.”

“Are you sure?” He drew in his eyebrows, creating little wrinkles on his forehead.

“Positive.”

~

When you told Sam that you felt fine, it wasn't completely a lie. At the time, you did feel ok, a little sore, but ok. Though as time went on and the world sped around the Impala, you began to feel off.  You ignored it, of course. You hadn't been injured that bad, you assured yourself. Nothing could be wrong. You had endured much worse and been fine, yet the uneasiness continued and a dull ache began to grow throughout your body as your skin paled.

“You okay back there sweetheart?” Dean asked, glancing back at you in the rear-view mirror when he noticed your absence in the conversation. Your silence was loud. 

“Peachy.” You hummed, avoiding his gaze. You knew you looked into his eyes he would know exactly what was up. It was like a 6th sense of his. 

“I’m only asking ‘cause you look a little pale.” He added. 

“I skipped breakfast this morning. It’s probably just that.” You shrugged “Quit worrying, Dean.”

He was right to worry though, because the moment you stepped out of the car, a wave of nausea hit you and you lost your footing slightly. Sam picked up on your stumble. 

“Woah. Careful Y/N. Are you sure you're okay?”

“I’m fine, Sam.”

He eyed you slyly. You weren’t one to be clumsy. Sam followed you closely as you hauled yourself down the steps of the bunker, much slower than usual as you fought the unease that contaminated your body. By the time you reached the bottom, a sheen of sweat had broken across your forehead, and you were short of breath, panting against the pain in your abdomen. 

You had barely made it halfway across the room when the lightheadedness kicked in and you had to grab the table to keep you from doubling over with your vision. Taking a step forwards and letting go of the table, your body swayed, causing bile to rise in your throat. You had just about stumbled to your room by clinging onto the walls when another wave rolled over you causing your legs to buckle and your body careen to the side and hit the ground with a groan of pain. You clutched at your stomach. 

Your vision swam as you lay there in a dazed state, fading in and out of your pain laced world. You weren’t sure how long it was before your heard footsteps escaping down the hall.

Sam knocked on the door. He hadn’t heard from you since the three of you arrived home over an hour ago and he had begun to grow worried. You didn’t look well at all when you forced yourself out of the impala. Your skin was paler than usual and clammy and alongside that your footsteps were all out of beat. When there was no reply, sam asked for you but his words went through one ear and out of the other, not even stopping in your mind.

He pushed the door open and froze at the sight of your body sprawled out across the cold floor. Your chest barely rose and fell.

“Shit.” Sam dived forwards, dropping his bags on floor. “Y/N?” He patted your face lightly, but all you did was groan. 

Gingerly, Sam eased your arms away from your stomach and rolled up the hem of your shirt. What he saw made him gasp. From your chest all the way down your abdomen, were deep purple bruises. 

“Dean!”

His older brother raced into the room at his brother's cry of distress, staggering to a stop when he saw the state of your body. 

“Get the keys.” Sam ordered, before scooping you up into his arms. 

The two of them made it to the car in record time. Sam manoeuvred himself into the back with you, as Dean made his way to the drivers side and started the engine. In typical Dean fashion, the car was going too fast, but neither of them cared. Sam held you close to remind you that everything was going to be alright even if you weren’t completely coherent. Dean focused on the road, cursing every red light they hit. At some point, he gave up stopping. 

When the Impala peeled into the parking lot Sam rushed inside carrying you still, Dean followed close behind. The two were frantic as they called for help which didn’t seem to come quick enough. It was a blur as the hospital staff took your fading body and rushed you into surgery. 

~

Dean’s leg bounced as he waited for the nurse to return from your hospital room. The pair of them hadn’t moved in hours, waiting anxiously for.. well anything. 

When the moment finally came and called out your name, they didn’t waste any time in going to meet her. And then came the news.

“Miss Y/n has suffered severe internal bleeding. The doctors have managed to stabilise her with surgery, but she will need to stay in observation for a while.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’ll be happy to know that she is awake and asking for the two of you.”

The nurse didn’t have time to say anything else because the two brothers had already left and flung the door open. 

“Oh Y/n/n…” Sam breathed when he saw you, hooked up to a multitude of machines. Despite your tired eyes, there was still a soft grin on your face. 

“Hiya Sammy.”

He took your hand. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore. Whatever drugs they have me on are working miracles.” You let out a small chuckle. “I keep telling them I’m fine, but they won’t let me leave.”

“You’re not fine. Y/N.” Dean said sternly. “You’ve just come out of emergency surgery. You need to rest.”

You were silent. 

“I hate hospitals.” You murmured. They reminded you too much of your failures. 

“I know. It’s just a few more days and then I’ll take you home.” 

“Okay.” you sniffled. 

Sam ran his hands through his hair. “God, Y/N you had us so worried.”

“I’m sorry. I thought it was nothing, I really did.”

“It’s okay.” Dean reassured. “You’ll be alright. That’s what matters the most.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 20 ⛤ DAY 22 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

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