#Shoulder Wound

[hood-ex]

This is the second time Dick's been shot in his right shoulder by a cop in Vol. 4.

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #35

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #115

[tildeathiwillwrite]

The Flight into the Swamps

The Watcher and the Thief, Chapter 2 Scene 3

Whumptober Day 16: NECROSIS | Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

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Fandom: Original Work

Words: 1500

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

@the-ellia-west

CW: concussion, burns, running, escape, paranoia, wound cleaning, shoulder wound, getting lost, swearing

A/N: Can our intrepid thief escape with his cargo? Will his wounds slow him down? Will Tumblr execute him for causing a library fire (not entirely on purpose)? Find out in this latest episode of The Watcher and the Thief "The Consequences of Rift's Actions!"

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Rift's head and shoulder throbbed with every step he took. His heart was hammering in his ears, beating too fast, far too fast, and every breath stung like he was still inhaling smoke.

But he still ran as fast as his legs could carry him, sprinting through the double doors of the archives and through the Draigo stronghold. Nobody stopped him. The guards he'd passed before had all run to the original blast, at the Council Chambers, and left the nearest exit completely unguarded. He'd known this would happen, planned on it.

But it still felt too easy.

The back of his neck prickled as he passed through the outer wall and entered the swamps proper, as if unseen eyes were tracking his every move. Or perhaps that was the burns on his back from the explosion. He didn't know for certain, and he sure as the depths were deep wasn't going to stop and check. Every second that he spent still was a second wasted, a second for the Draigo to gain ground, to catch him.

Rift's feet pounded on the worn path through the swamps, one of the only known safe ways to travel in this area. People have vanished in the swamps. Trailblazers, nobles, hunters. Thieves.

He needed to get off this path. He needed to disappear, and soon.

How much longer before the Draigo recovered themselves enough to come after him? Surely not too much longer. Damn, he wasn't even out of the swamps yet, he couldn't afford to stop. He vaguely recalled rumors of vicious beasts who answered to the Draigo, monstrous things resembling normal Valarian creatures but larger, stronger, more intelligent, and more deadly.

How long would he last, on the run? A day? Two days? A week? A month?

He needed to get out of his disguise. He needed to get to Valdove and pass off the gem as soon as possible. And maybe sell the gauntlet and mask to his employer as well. It wasn't part of the contract, but if one fabled artifact was worth a king's ransom, surely three would land him enough gold to buy himself a private island.

If the Draigo didn't get to him first.

Rift finally slowed his pace, acknowledging his body's need to rest. Stitches had formed on both sides, and he took a few precious moments to stow the two extra artifacts in his pack, padding them with the clothes he'd worn on much of the journey to the stronghold. Hands now freed, Rift shrugged off the charred coat, gritting his teeth as the tattered cloth irritated his burned skin.

"Aw, depths," he muttered, holding the coat out at arm's length, "you were such a beauty." He'd been quite proud of that find, a luxurious velvet coat with black satin lining and embroidery. Fit for a traveling Draigo. And now it was ruined.

Carefully folding it, he cast it into the brush, hoping it wouldn't help the Draigo too much in their search for him. He couldn't afford to keep it with him, in case when he reached Valdove someone started asking too many questions. His burns would raise enough suspicion, he didn't need a possibly stolen coat further complicating things.

Rift's employer had better be at their meeting point. If he wasn't.... 

Well, Rift had three Draigo artifacts at his disposal and nothing left to lose.

The reminder of the Draigo spurred him to pick up his pace. He'd idled for too long already.

The rhythmic pounding of his feet on the path and the fear coiling in his stomach like a venomous snake distracted Rift from the pain for a long time. He quickly lost track of the day, until the sun set behind the trees and he was forced to pause and consider continuing or risk resting through the night.

He chose to continue. He doubted he could sleep anyway.

The night was clear, thank the celestials, and the light from the stars and sliver of moon was enough to guide him. Not that Rift couldn't more or less navigate in complete darkness as long as he could feel the firm path beneath his feet. But he was glad for even the small amount of light cast by the sky.

It was about halfway through the night when he turned off the path, the surrounding ground now firm enough that he was confident he wouldn't be easily tracked by footprints. Even so, he moved about erratically, first heading east, then southeast, then meandering north in a way that he hoped would confuse his pursuers and grant him more time.

And still, Rift couldn't shake the notion that he was wasting his time, that no matter what he did, he would be found eventually. And no amount of running and hiding and distraction could stop it.

"You're being paranoid," he muttered as he paused to catch his breath. "Paranoia keeps you alive. Keeps you out of prison. You've taken all the necessary precautions, and even some unnecessary ones. You got away with robbing the damned Draigo."

Didn't get away scot-free, but that's beside the point.

Unfortunately, when dawn finally arrived, Rift was forced to conclude that he had gotten himself lost. Sure, to go north was to eventually leave the swamp, but he was no longer certain how much further north he needed to go. Or if he had gone too far east and overshot Valdove.

He elected to stop for no longer than an hour to finally tend to his injuries and change out of his charred clothes. The latter would raise questions, and the former even more so. He could probably bluff the shoulder wound as an attack by a wild animal, but the burns were another story. Happened during the animal attack, perhaps?

It really didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was getting the wounds cleaned and covered at the very least so they wouldn't get infected. He only had a couple ounces left of augri, he would just have to make them count.

Rift hissed as he pulled off his shirt, no doubt pulling off dead skin along with it, not to mention the movement jarring his shoulder. Like the coat, his shirt had been burned badly by the explosion, practically useless as a garment now. But it would suffice as a makeshift bandage, at least until he could get his hands on something better.

He gritted his teeth in anticipation, holding the tiny bottle of augri over the wounds on his shoulder. The creature had sank long claws into his flesh, leaving deep puncture wounds made worse when it was torn away from the blast. He certainly needed to seek a professional's care, a doctor or magician, as soon as possible to tend to this. But for now...

The alcohol was like fire on the open wound. He cried out, nearly dropping the bottle, tears springing to his eyes. The cuts stung in a haze of agony, and all he could do was wait as what felt to him like a second burn formed on his shoulder until finally, the pain subsided to the original throbbing.

Wrapping a shoulder with only one hand was more difficult than he'd anticipated, and took a lot more time than he liked, but eventually, he managed to tie the cloth in place. The worst injury dealt with, Rift hesitantly probed at the skin of his back, trying to gauge the extent of the injury. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as he would've expected, though he did find some blisters on his upper back that did. The skin around it was dry under his fingers, and almost leathery, which wasn't great, but he guessed the burn wasn't as serious as he'd initially assumed.

When he finally found someone to look at his shoulder, he would have to ask about the burn, as long as they didn't ask too many questions. A risky proposition, that, as he would first need to figure out if they were the type to not ask prying questions. The animal attack and campfire story would probably cover both bases.

That wouldn't happen until he found his way out of the swamp, but still, it was good to have a contingency plan just in case---

Movement from the corner of his eye startled him out of his thoughts. Rift glanced around wildly, trying to find the source, hoping it was just a branch moving in the wind. Hoping it wasn't the---

A man stepped out from behind the cover of the trees. He was human, older than Rift if he had to guess, with dark skin and long black hair pulled into tight, ropelike locks. He wore a long cloak dyed in shades of green and brown, and he held a loaded crossbow pointed to the ground. He was trailed by a younger woman with lighter skin and brown curly hair who wore a similarly-colored cloak in a different cut, and a teenager who had the same dark skin and hair, albeit a shorter style, as the older man and a similar face shape, suggesting they were related.

Rift exhaled slowly, but not in relief.

He had been found, not by Draigo, but by someone almost worse.

A Watcher.

Three of them.

[whumpookies]

You know when I see your username I kind of think of the Wookiees from Starwars lol but anyway. What is your favorite place for a whumpee to acquire an injury? Definitely the abdomen for me I just love it when they clutch their side and blood pools through their dingers 😍. Also what's your favorite British Whump and what's give flavorite Turkish whump, and last oh all just for the fun of it favorite icecream flavour? YOU BETTER NOT SAY VANILLA that answer would be vanilla

Anookie...

Seriously a Wookie 🤔

You know what I'd be a damn cool Wookie 😂

Anyway...

Let's see..injury, best place..ah that's easy.. shoulder, you can not beat a good shoulder injury..

The wincing, the flinching not to mention the possible arm in a sling and they can't really do anything 🤔 ahh yes the shoulder injury is best...

My Favorite British Whump..robin hood is few and far between.. but there were so many different series and films made...

Best Turkish whump jeez I've gotta go with çukur/pit hands down can't beat it! So many injuries so worth the series

Okay, favorite ice cream..that's so easy it's understated..vanill...

😂 nah...

Rum and raisin all the way, you can't beat it! Be it ice cream or fudge 😁

[thewahookid]

Friends, today is Friday, a day dedicated to Jesus. Besides having a devotion to the Divine Mercy, it is good to have a devotion to the hidden Wound of Jesus which He had on His shoulder as He carried His Cross. Please do your best to spread the devotion.

PRAYER TO THE SHOULDER WOUND OF OUR LORD JESUS

O lovable Jesus,

gentle Lamb of God,

in spite of the fact that

I am a sinful, wretched creature,

I adore You

and worship the Wound

caused by the heavy weight of Your Cross,

that burst open Your skin,

uncovered the bones of Your Sacred Shoulder

and on which Your sorrowing Mother Mary

so much sympathized with.

I as well, dear Jesus,

also sympathize with You,

and from the bottom of my heart,

I glorify You,

and thank You

for this painful wound

to Your shoulder

on which You carried your Cross

for my salvation.

Ah! for all the sufferings

You deeply experienced

that increased the enormous weight

of Your Cross, I humbly request,

have mercy on me,

a poor sinful creature,

forgive my sins

and conduct me to heaven

by the way of the Cross.

Say the "Hail Mary" 3 times.

Holy Mother,

imprint in my heart the wounds

of the Crucified Jesus Christ.

O Sweet Jesus,

please do not be my Judge,

be my Saviour.

[inkskinned]

"don't make it political!" .... what proportion of death and suffering must occur before politics are involved. if this isn't political, what is even the point of any politics, ever. of democracy. the words are "by the people for the people." if i am going to be left alone by my elected representatives to "figure it out" - to undergo damage, hardship, fear. what the fuck did i elect them for. what was their job. the entire point is that they handle this shit. this is why we were supposed to be electing leaders.

poverty is political. misogyny is political. gun control is political. climate change is political. how much aid a community gets is political. what the fuck are you talking about. it's been political this whole fucking time.

[doctorsiren]

I have an idea (concept sketch that I will make a more refined version of in the morning since it is midnight)

[rhinexstone]

I think one of the many reasons Clark likes Bruce so much is because the only being capable of killing Superman at any given time without any prep (partially because it’s already been done) is a human without any powers or special abilities

[atroquinine-my-love]

"one thing about me is that im leaving" ~apollo justice, 2027

[id in alt text]

[lotus-pear]

regret

[fun-esta]

[scatterbrainedbot]

the trouble with being the one who survives is you must keep on doing it

inspired directly by @onionninjasstuff 's heart wrenching comic of Future Donnie's death (read it!!)

[possessable]

also, why did she call him that

[sableeira]

regardless of whether Chuuya’s involvement in the prison break was planned in advance, I think it would be really funny if the shot in the shoulder wasn’t planned. Because Dazai’s reaction felt PERSONAL

[crushedsweets]

If u consistently choose kindness on the internet in comment sections and dms and content I love you.

[dykedvonte]

The second fic idea is a what-if scenerio where Jimmy dies in the crash due to and altercation with Curly and how Curly would navigate being Captain once he has to notice the little things and how he and Anya's relationship develop as he adopts an identical view point to hers rather than just keeping the peace.

And maybe i will write it but only time will tell tbh but it's stuck in my brain dome for the time being.

[battybrownboodeactivated]

Thank you @andiwatt for this stunning piece of fan art. I am blown away by the attention to detail! You captured the angst of this scene perfectly.

Here we have Joker completely lost to a special formula of fear toxin in my fic As We Go Along