#whumprilDay10

[onlythegoodpretzels]

Faelbar isn't quite sure how sleep works, but he watched Shiro fight in and out of it many times before they could speak properly. He tries to help smooth the transition when he can.

______________________________________________________________

I named all the lions for my Roots/Routes AU. Faelbar = Black! He's also quite traumatized and he and Shiro try to take care of each other.

I'm trying to learn how to color faster! This was an experiment that went really well.

Late for the prompt day, but for @whumpril prompt day 10: Adrenaline.

[whump-about-it]

Last Hope

@whumpril Day 10: Adrenaline

CW: Probable misuse of medication (not for plot purposes, but because I'm not a medical professional and am basically making this up), criminal Whumpee, blood loss, fear of death.

Nothing had gone as planned. Whumpee was supposed to get into the compound, download the virus, and get back out. It wasn't supposed to take more than an hour. They weren't supposed to run into anyone. Least of all Whumper. Now Whumpee was bleeding uncontrollably from a knife wound in their chest, and running blindly through the labyrinthian facility trying to escape Whumper and find some kind of exit.

Thank God Caretaker had insisted on coming along. Whumpee had argued that this was a one man job, and they could drive their own getaway car. But Caretaker was a worrier, and apparently a vindicated one now. Whumpee could only hope they would get back to them to hear Caretaker tell them that themselves.

Struggling to stay focused as they ran through the building, trying to remember where they had gotten in from, Whumpee turned down a dark hallway lined with doors. Whumpee hadn't remembered being in this area of the building before, but with Whumper at their heels they could barely complain about the ample hiding places it provided and stumbled forward, one hand staunching their bleeding as best they could and the other grabbing at doorknobs, hoping against hope that one of them would swing open. Finally, at the end of the hall, one of them did with such a loud screech it made Whumpee's blood run cold even as the slipped in and locked the door behind them.

The dark room beyond seemed to be some sort of chemical lab. The walls were lined with counter spaces topped with severely sterile looking machines and locked cabinets. A part of Whumpee's mind drifted towards the idea that there was probably something valuable to steal in the room, before a sudden thunder clap of pain radiated from their chest through the rest of their body so intense that their knees gave out underneath them and they fell to the floor muffling a cry.

It had vaguely occurred to Whumpee before that the only reason they had gotten as far as they had as of yet was because of the adrenaline pumping through their body and numbing the pain and panic coursing through them. It seemed to have been starting to ware off now though and the room swam in front of Whumpee as they rolled onto their back and grasped the bloody hole in their chest with both hands. The contact elicited a disgusting squelching noise and another thunder bolt of pain that made Whumpee's eye site go grey momentarily.

Concentrate! They ordered themselves, their eyes sweeping around the room dizzyingly. There was a window at the far end of the lab. Whumpee couldn't tell if it opened or not, but they could at least be able us it their barings as to where Caretaker might have stationed themselves if they could get to it. That would be no use though if they bleed to death before they got out of the compound, which was a dangerously real possibility right now, so Whumpee continued to scan the room until their eyes finally landed a large metal box screwed to an adjacent wall with FIRST AID written across it in large red letters.

Whumpee pulled themselves into a sitting position and the world wavered in front of them. They could feel the little blood they had left in their body rushing away from their head and heart and towards the open would between their upper ribs. A nauseating feeling washed over them and Whumpee had to fight the urge to pass out. They knew they wouldn't wake up again if they did. This also served to confirm that there was no way Whumpee was going to be able to stand in their current condition. So once they'd gotten their senses back Whumpee resolved to start scooting across the floor on their butt, holding their gushing wound with both hands and fighting for consciousness the whole time.

When Whumpee was halfway to the first aid kit however, they suddenly became aware of the sound of heavy footsteps rapidly becoming louder. They froze and pressed themselves up against the nearest cabinet, holding their breathe as they listened to Whumper's familiar footsteps run down the hall past the room they were in, then back a few seconds later, disappearing back the way they'd come and back into the depths of the compound. Whumpee gasped for air as they heard Whumper's footsteps disapear. There was was a sudden rush in their heartrate that didn't seem so dizzying, and a shock of renewed adrenaline ran through them that they used to leverage themselves to their knees to quickly crawl the rest of the way to the first aid kit.

The adrenaline had run out by the time they got there, and Whumpee teetered on the edge of consciousness as they pulled the first aid kit from it's box on the wall and flung it open. Breathing was getting so painful that Whumpee was beginning to wonder if the knife had punctured their lung after all.

Hang in there, they told themselves. You just need to stuff the wound. Whumpee collapsed against another set of cabinets. Most of their energy spent, and ran a bloody hand over the supplies in the kit, feeling rather than seeing for the packets of gauze. Instead their hands ran over something plastic and cylindrical. Hovering over it out of exhaustion more than curiosity, Whumpee quickly realized what they were feeling. It was an EpiPen.

It took Whumpee several seconds to figure out why their slowing heart leapt with joy at the feeling of the medical device under their finger tips. They didn't have any allergies, and though they'd been trained in how to use an EpiPen, they'd never had need to before.

Epinephrine. Adrenaline. Their mind sluggishly eked out the thought, followed by a half forgotten memory of Caretaker explaining to them how adrenaline worked by constricting blood vessels.

It was a terrible idea. Part of Whumpee knew that. But they were desperate, and probably not thinking straight. And they knew that if they didn't stop the bleeding somehow they were going to be dead soon anyway.

Slowly Whumpee's fingers closed around the EpiPen and they dragged it out of the first aid kit and towards their body. It took them several tries before they managed to get the safety cap off, but once they did they held it up with a shaking hand and hovered over a space just above their wound. They knew that when being used for it's intended purpose, you where supposed to stab the patient in a larger muscle. But when used for bleeding Whumpee considered that they wanted it as close to the veins they were trying to target as possible. Whumpee sucked in what they hoped wouldn't be their final breathe and bit the inside of their cheeks to gag their own scream then drove the pen into their muscle with all their remaining strength, pressing the button at the opposite end before the pain could paralyze them.

Please let this work. Whumpee prayed to any God that might be listening. This is my last hope. Please let this work.

Authors Note: I just want to reiterate that I am not a medical professional and am nearly 100% certain that Epipens can not actually be used to stop bleeding. Please don't try to use them for anything other than their intended purpose.

[lingeringmirth]

hobbling along

Stranger Things | Platonic Stobin | Rating: G | Words: 222 | Angst, Self-sacrifice, Emotional hurt, Steve has bad parents, self-sacrificial tendencies, S4 missing scene (kinda.)

Also here on AO3.

She looks at her Dingus, her brave stupidly self-sacrificing soulmate, her Steve, and she sees how he’s running purely on adrenaline.

He’s always pushing himself onwards, is her Steve, barrelling on when someone else would have stopped, said enough.

Robin doesn’t think Steve even knows what enough means.

She doesn’t think she’s ever hated Steve’s parents more than she does at this moment, looking at Steve standing shirtless there on the dried up lake bed in the Upside Down, with a nasty scrape around his neck and wounds across his torso and road-rash at his back. He’s panting and keeping upright by sheer force of will, panting and psyching himself up… because his parents, especially his father, that absolute waste of space Richard Harrington, had always told him to push on, that he wasn’t applying himself, that he didn’t need a rest, or a break.

Steve, her reformed schmuck Steve, her Dingus, had taken his absent father’s teachings to heart and had decided that his only worth was in saving others, of gaining their affection through pushing himself past his limits to keep them safe, that it’s all he’s worth.

But she could see him swaying, could see him running low, his energy winding down, sapped.

So she went to him, made him lean on her and they went on, hobbling together.

[losthavenmine]

Whumpril 2023 Day 10: Scared

A Beautiful Mind (2001)

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 10 - Adrenaline

Mariano drives stick for a reason

TWs: blood, field surgery, fast driving, my questionable knowledge of driving techniques, touch starvation

"I wonder if you know how they live in Tokyo," Mariano muttered, easing the gas pedal down to the floor. Manuel lay in the back seat, belt between his teeth as Izan worked on him to stop the bleeding from an awful stab wound. Laredo held Manuel's hands, giving him something to squeeze. Dimitri helped Izan, handing him tools as requested.

The road flew by, Mariano shifting gears as needed. "Drifting." He said, interrupting himself to call back the warning as he threw the car into a curve. The weight shifted, dust flew, and he guided them back into the straightaway.

"You need to give us more warning than that!" Dimitri snapped.

"Understood." Mariano called back, easing them back up to the blistering speed they were at before. He glanced back through the rear-view mirror, catching Manuel's pale face and Izan's steady fingers staunching a bleed.

There was a click and Luis' voice came through the headset, above the roar of the engine. "What's your ETA, over?"

"T minus five minutes, working on making it three." Mariano said, glancing down at the speedometer and the clock. "Emergency services requested, Conduit has lost a lot of blood, over."

"They'll meet you at the gates, Lumen. Drive safe, over."

"You'd better make it three, Rookie!" Dimitri all but snarled. "And also--why the fuck were you singing in Japanese earlier?"

"It helps me with the timing." Mariano said, voice steady despite how his heart thundered in his ears. "I don't need to flip us."

"Wait, wait, is it because it was on my driving playlist when I was teaching you?" Laredo asked, surprise winding into his voice. "I remember that!"

"I mean why were you singing in Japanese?" Dimitri snapped, passing Izan another tool. "I thought you only knew Spanish, there's no way you're bilingual."

"I'm not, I didn't want to just say random syllables." Mariano said, shifting through the gears as they approached another curve. "Fifteen seconds to drift, tools off." He added, raising his voice as he twisted the wheel.

Again, the weight of the car shifted as Mariano took them through the turn. The tires slid, dust flew, and as he hit the accelerator he felt the moment the tires caught traction again and sent them flying forward. "Clear to proceed, that was the last turn. Anyway, it felt racist to not at least learn the words."

"You're so fucking weird." Dimitri grumbled as Izan laughed for the first time since Manuel went down.

"I've just about got the worst of it under control. Thank you for driving us Mariano." Izan said. "I wouldn't have trusted Laredo with those turns at that speed."

Mariano's face burned and he felt his heart race with something other than adrenaline. He suddenly felt grateful that they were all focused on Manuel. "The first one was a little sloppy. I need more time on the track."

"I'm free Friday, maybe you can show me how Tokyo Drift helps you remember the proper timing for everything." Laredo said, reaching forward to grip Mariano's shoulder. "I still can't actually pull off a drift in the moment." Mariano couldn't talk, only nodding and giving a thumbs up in response.

When the paramedics took Manuel, Mariano heard one of them say that it was lucky he'd gotten to them so quickly or it could've been bad. Even an evening run hadn't been enough to erase Izan's quiet thanks. That night, Mariano's shoulder still hadn't stopped tingling where Laredo had touched him. Mind racing, he knew he wouldn't get enough sleep. He'd be exhausted the next day.

It was fine, Mariano thought. He'd acted weird enough to make Dimitri mad, but he'd gotten Manuel home in time, and Izan had thanked him, and Laredo wanted to learn from him.

It was all worth it.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Hypothermia: 0/10 Do Not Recommend

WoW Birthday Whump Day 10: Hypothermia / Heat flashes / "Bind them."

Whumpril Day 10 (Adrenaline), Day 13 (Angry Tears), Day 28 (Fight/Flight/Freeze)

WoW Birthday Whump Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Forsaken: The Doomed City Masterpost

TW: hypothermia, blood, broken nose, bruises, attempted escape, swearing, captivity

Context: Directly after Sam's hypothermia torture at the hands of Blizzard, she attempts escape. She doesn't get far. (guess who fucking finally got a proper working title???)

Rough hands dragged Sam out of the tender grasp of sleep. She blinked, eyelids heavy, and wondered why everything was so white. It was only when the hands pulled her out of the snow-covered cell that she remembered the storm.

Why was it snowing in the cell? They were underground.

“Is she still alive?”

That voice….

“Yes, but she won’t be for much longer without intervention.”

Sam forced her eyes open. Two people stood over her, a man and a woman. The woman was vaguely familiar, with long hair colored an unnatural shade of white. She looked down at Sam with disdain. “I expected more of her. Physical talent and all.”

It was the woman’s expression that clicked the pieces together. She tried to kill me!

A sudden burst of rage and adrenaline fueled Sam. She scrambled to her feet and tackled Blizzard to the ground, screaming incoherently. Blizzard tried to fend her off, to create a snowstorm, anything, but Sam punched her in the face once, twice, three times, disrupting each attempt.

The man tried to pull her away from Blizzard, but Sam turned on him, whirling around and striking him in the face with her elbow. He staggered back, blood gushing from his newly broken nose, and Sam leaped off Blizzard and stumbled down the corridor.

She only got two steps before she was lifted off the ground. Sam struggled and yelled as an unseen force dragged her back to where she’d started. The man’s hand was outstretched, brow furrowed in concentration as blood streamed down his face and dripped onto the floor. Telekinetic!

Blizzard slowly picked herself up off the floor, gently probing the forming bruises on her face. “Shut her up, will you?”

The telekinetic stepped forward and punched Sam in the gut. She gasped, air whooshing out of her lungs, and sagged in the air, struggling to breathe.

“Not so tough now, are we?” Blizzard asked sweetly, tracing a manicured fingernail across the scar on Sam’s cheek.

“Fuck… you....”

“Oh, so terrifying,” Blizzard smirked. “You really should save that ferocity for the arena. You’ll need all the help you can get.”

Arena? “What…?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, darling.” Blizzard turned to the telekinetic. “Take her to the infirmary until she recovers. When you get there, bind her. I don’t want her trying to murder our doctor.”

Sam couldn’t muster the breath and energy required to scream the obscenities running through her head as she was dragged down the corridor away from Blizzard. If I’m ever alone with you, she vowed, tears of fury and helplessness beginning to stream down her face, no one will be able to identify the body.

No one.

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @whumpril

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 10 Adrenaline

Fallen behind, but I'm back hopefully, Day 10 for whumpril

and returning to Familiar faces, set Season 3 ep 14, Esther fails to listen to Elijah, so he decides to make it clear he isn't going back to be her responsible dutiful son.

A little bit of  grand theft auto and joyriding in front of the town should make that clear he hopes.

----

Leaving the house and stepping into the cool air was something he needed, after the many questions about his new family from people who knew his parents, the only ones he wanted anyway, airing out Esther’s past of failing to stay faithful to her husband was completely her fault for revealing his adoption to the town just so she could claim him.

Attempting to force him back into place, as the good dutiful son always there to look after his siblings when she got tired of them. 

He wasn’t going back to that, unlike Finn, he had realised how much Esther had damaged them and was cutting her off, it just seemed she wasn’t listening. He had thought maybe after the morning talks she could accept it or just give him some space, he was wrong.

He had arrived tonight and within moments had been collected by Finn, once again moth- Esther’s errant boy, been warned not to embarrass her when he had tried to remind her he wasn’t her son anymore, let his tongue loose but she still refused to let him go. 

So he had found himself alongside them as they welcomed the town, introduced themselves and he had frozen as Esther relieved the story of the son she had given up and was so pleased to be reunited with.

Thanking the Gilbert's and the town for taking care of him and giving her the chance to have her family back, it was only the fact he was meeting aunt Jenna’s eyes that had stopped him reacting.

Then Elijah had been left to answer the questions, so he had, it wasn’t like they were lies; no he was still a Gilbert, Uncle John was his bio dad, no he wasn’t angry to have been given up, Mrs Mikealson’s husband hurt his children, she has a history of extra marriageable affairs.

The weight of Kol’s arm over his shoulder reminded him of why they had left.

At first he had offered it as something to distract Kol and Rebekah from killing Matt, not quite the same way the dutiful son Esther wanted would have done it but then he wasn’t that son for her and while tonight everyone here would be linking him to the Mikealson name he didn’t need to worry about letting down the Gilbert family image.

Elijah had bitten back his temper a lot throughout his life, he was going to let it out tonight, a lesson to teach Esther that he couldn’t be forced into playing happy families, that the dutiful son he was a thousand years ago was long gone never to return. 

He ignored the thought that this wasn’t him as he scouted out the car to use, the responsible older brother, Elijah Mikealson was taken a break, this wasn’t even Elijah Gilbert.

This was just Elijah tired of everything and letting it go, not smothering how he feels or caring about how it was going to reflect on him or his family.

Thinking of it that way he made sense why he picked the car he did, it was prefect if a little petty but Elijah had a long memory, and he always kept note of small injustices against them

Marcus’s new car, the one he’d been bragging about since before he got it, new, expensive and important to the one who had never missed a chance to taunt him over the cheer uniform, who had broken his bag when he was nine, had pushed him from a tree at seven.

Elijah smiled to himself as he led Kol towards it. 

When the car proved locked, Kol shattered the window without question only asking what Elijah was doing as he hotwired the car.

—-

Elijah realises why Klaus and Kol used to have their horse races down the streets as he presses his foot down of the accelerator, he felt a rush of adrenaline as the car roared, and Kol whooped as the took a sharp turn around the front of the place.

They could have just taken the car and raced around the town but then he wouldn’t get to see Ether when it finally got through to her that Elijah wasn’t going back to her peacekeeper

Elijah caught view of Esther and Finn as they past the grand entrance the third time and pressed harder on the accelerator.

“You don’t mind if we crash” he called over to Kol, the rushing wind though both broken windows forcing him to speak up, Kol hadn’t bother to wait to Elijah to open the door to him and had repeated the way he had opened the driver side by shattering the other front door window.

“What?” Kol shouted back.

“I’m going to wreck the car.” he explained as they made another loop around getting closer to the parked cars, he was only risking the most expensive one in the lot. The kind of people that impression matter most, and the Mikealson’s ball was about to end with two of the sons crashing a guest’s car into the others.

“You're human.” Kol reminded

“I’ll make sure most of the damage is on your side.” he offered as much as getting Kol injured on purpose screamed wrong to him, it made sense since Kol would heal.

“Alright brother, do your worst.” Kol grinned, Elijah found himself grinning back.

He had spotted Grant’s and two more of the team’s members' cars parked in a line earlier, now it seemed, well that was just asking for him to crash.

He slammed on the break, his loud breath completely drowned out by the rushing air and screaming tyres as the car twisted, back wheels continuing to move despite the brake locking the front ones up.

He braced for impact.

Kol’s side of the car hit the other two, Elijah winced at the sudden stop, the jolt no doubt making the belt leave more bruises but after months of Klaus forgetting his strength or Elijah’s current weakness he was used to them.

Besides Kol had already shown him hold to heal them, earlier after his words to mother had pushed Finn and Klaus to react without thought in her defence. 

In the aftermath of the clash with his ears still ringing from screeching metal and shattering glass he hears laughing, he finds himself laughing too, grinning over at Kol.

If he still had vampire hear he would no doubt hear Marcus’s and Grant’s choked sobs or curses, but he wasn’t so the only thing that mattered was Kol’s joy.

[isamajor]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 6 to 10

6 . Dizzyness

A sort of dizziness greeted the Dragonborn as they climbed the ruined tower. With each laborious step, dizziness seized them more and more. They swallowed heavily, struggling to keep their balance on the worm-eaten wooden staircase. The bandits must have stashed their loot up there. That's what they always did.

At the top of the tower, the wind blew violently, threatening to send them flying below. At the foot, their companions shouted at them to go back down. Sweat beaded on their forehead. They felt their legs weaken, and the Dragonborn collapsed onto the chest in front of him. (101)

7 . Hesitation

Lucien hesitated, staring blankly at the snarling bandit. Magic hummed between his fingers, ready to strike if necessary. Yet, taking a human life seemed abhorrent, something foreign to his sheltered existence. The fight was raging around him and he had seen the Dragonborn plant his sword more than once in the steaming entrails of their attackers. Yet, time seemed frozen, suspended between hesitation and action. The bandit's blade came dangerously close to his blue eyes. His body instinctively cast the ice spell. This survival instinct, which was unknown to him until then, did not hesitate. (96)

8 . Bloodshot

The Jarl had asked their small group to eradicate the vampires from Shriekwind Bastion in exchange for a gold reward. The Dragonborn had come out with many scratches but had not paid attention to them before the illness broke out. There was no doubt about their bloodshot eyes and their hypersensitivity to daylight. They have the Sanguinare Vampiris. The Dragonborn turned their bloody eyes away, unable to meet the gaze of their companions. If they don't find a cure, then in three days they will become a vampire, a predator, a nuisance just to be put down. (98)

9 . Self-doubt

Tormented by the magnitude of the task, the Dragonborn questioned their objective. Could they really end this catastrophic cycle and kill Alduin, the Devourer of Worlds? It seemed insurmountable and doubt sank deep within them. They didn't have faith in their abilities. They felt like a bandit's stray arrow could kill them, and dash whatever hopes the people of Skyrim might have had in them. The fact that everything weighted on their shoulders, and that they were the only one who could defeat Alduin made them feel anguished and insecure.

What if the prophecies were wrong? (98)

10 . Adrenaline

The shadow passed over him and the dragon landed. Taliesin had no time to think and charged. His footsteps echoed to the rhythm of his heart. His bones echoed with the sound of the beast's cry. With Berwhale in hand, he was ready to carve into the scales of the giant lizard. The adrenaline made him forget his fatigue and the pain in his muscles. The Mer was focused on his immediate survival and the threat that stood before him. Fleeing was not an option. He had to fight, his breathing was ragged, but his body knew there would be no rest until victory. (105)

[coffeeangelinabox]

Whumpril #10: Adrenaline

Jemma curls as far back into the corner of her cell as she can. It’s pathetic. She should be better than this. She’s a fighter, a soldier. She’s faced down hordes and liberated whole planets. And in contrast to Darrow - supposedly the mastermind of their little operation - or Jay - the lead singer of their little boy band. She can manage the clean up and the logistical requirements of a newly freed people. 

It’s not, despite what the men might think, as easy as bombing whatever passes for the Domain’s Central Services, making a rousing speech and flying off into the sunset. 

All of which is to say that she has both brains and brawn. Capture can happen to anyone, weight of numbers will, eventually, subdue even the best of strategists and the most fearsome of warriors. And Jemma is confident that she didn’t make a mistake and that she would make every choice that led to this again. 

The Domain will doubtless take her apart. They’ll strip out everything that makes her her first. But she couldn’t have let them put hands on Rosie. The girl’s the same age as the daughter that she doesn’t think about. The one wound she has that never scars over and is just as raw as it was the day she lost her. 

Making dramatic heroic pronouncements:

Take me instead of her.

I’m far more use to you. 

Just…just go. Don’t worry about me. 

That’s the easy part.

Being here, waiting, knowing they’re coming and what they’re going to do her… Even Jemma’s steel quails a little, making her cower and shake. She hates herself for it and hopes she isn’t going to disgrace herself by begging.

Which is when there’s a bang, a crash. Explosion? It makes the whole structure shake. If they were groundside, Jemma would wonder if it was a quake. There’s a brief screech of a siren, abruptly silent, and the many (many many many) fleet personnel running, swearing, shouting panicked questions to each other.

Is…is this enormous floating prison fortress under attack?

Which idiot would-

No. Wait. She knows. 

Adrenaline suffuses her, stiffening her spine. This is foolhardy, it risks everything that she’d given herself up for. The light on her door denoting the lock’s magnetic engagement pulses. The door begins to move. Jemma curls hands into fists, ready to fight her way out of the box she is trapped in. Ready to turn an impossible attack into an equally impossible pincer movement. Ready to help however she can.

She doesn’t even get a chance to leap for the opening door as the taser hits her in the gut and takes her to the floor. 

[pandoramoments]

Adrenaline coursed through Obi-Wan's body as he waited for the gates to open, the surge momentarily holding back the grief and shock that threatened to take control.

Qui-Gon was lying on the ground, the damage to his body likely too severe to be healed by any mild abilities Obi-Wan possessed.

But he couldn't dwell on that now... Not while a Sith paced before him, also waiting the change in the gate. Obi-Wan shivered, letting the feeling rush through his body, and the way to his extremities; he needed to focus on the here and now rather than dwelling on his own inadequacies. He took a deep breath and looked away from the body of his beloved master, not daring to think about the life that was seeping away while he prepared to continue fighting.

Adrenaline coursed through Obi-Wan's body, and he used it to centre himself in the Force as he fought for the light.

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

@whumpril Day 10: Adrenaline

Everything had turned out fine. After an elaborate chase they finally, finally had their elusive suspects in custody, minimal collateral damage. That realization and relief was a rush. It was over, Connor was fine, and Hank was mostly fine. He’d be finer if his body would catch up to his brain and calm the hell down. His heart was still going like a jackhammer, his breathing was staggered and everything was kind of swimming. Not that he was unfamiliar with operating on swimmy vision; he’d seen worse after more than a few bottles. That being said—

“Hank?” Connor’s hand was suddenly on his arm, making him jump. “You’re shaking. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just…think I better sit,” he panted, gelatinous legs dropping him heavily onto the nearest sturdy surface. Head in his hands, he sucked in an unsteady breath. “Phew. Just give me a minute.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

[em-writes-stuff]

“i’m scared”

@whumpril day 10

villain, doctor, hero

683 words

warnings: hospital setting

part one here | part three here 

---

Villain pushes into the hospital with Hero in his arms, “I need Doctor! She knows I’m here, please get her.” 

A nurse looks him over, and sighs, “She’s in room 403, I’ll tell her you’re on your way.”

He nods his thanks and presses the button for the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently for the doors to open. With every second the doors stay closed, more people look his way, their eyes boring into his skin and into his soul. 

The elevator opens and he sighs in relief. He steps in the elevator three people step out, two others get in with him and he presses the button for floor four and waits. 

A mother who got on with her child holds his hand tightly and shuffles him behind her, Villain instinctively makes himself smaller. He sinks into the non-existent shadows of the elevator and looks at the ground. 

The elevator stops and even though the mother pressed the button for the fifth floor, she gets off at the third. Villain doesn’t blame her. Two more people get on, both of them press to the wall opposite of Villain. He purses his lips and nods to them, they don’t nod back. 

The doors open to the fourth floor and Villain steps off and hurries to room 403. Doctor’s sitting on the side of the bed with her head in her hands. 

“Thank you so much for doing this, I know it’s not your favorite way to spend your day,” Villain says. 

She stands up and helps him settle Hero in the bed, “Well, what else could I do? You’d have brought her here anyway and someone else would have to deal with you.” 

“And I thought you loved me,” he said, holding his hand over his heart. 

She smiles and presses a kiss to his cheek, “You caught me. So, what's the story?”

He groans and falls back into the uncomfortable hospital chair, “Oh, the story. Can we get a cup of coffee first?” 

“You can, I have to get her hooked up to an IV and everything. Make it quick though.” 

He hums and leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him. Doctor stares at Hero and huffs. She starts to get Hero changed into a gown and start an IV and then makes some calls and starts on paperwork. 

Villain knocks on the door and pushes it open a crack, then all the way. “I got you a cup just in case. And if you don’t drink it, then I get two.” 

“Very clever,” Doctor says, closing her laptop, “So. The story?” 

“I was going to the bank and she stopped me. Fell once, but got back up, then again and that time she passed out. Brought her here.” 

“I thought it was going to be longer. Do you know how these bruises got there? And what about the bullet wound in her calf?” 

“No idea,” He says, shaking his head, “As far as I know, she’s not gotten into any trouble with anyone since last month and it was just Vigilante. She should be fine.” 

“So this is…” 

“Hero, yeah. I thought I told you that.” 

“You did not.” 

“Sorry,” he takes a drink of his coffee and grimaces, “I always forget the coffee here is shit.” 

She sits down next to him and leans her head on his shoulder, “She’s going to be here for a while from the looks of it. Wasn’t Sidekick with her?” 

He shakes his head and sighs, “Nope, which is weird, right? I mean, I’ve never seen them not together. I’m scared something happened to them that is actually really bad.” 

She looks up at him and presses a kiss to his cheekbone, “You worry too much. I have other patients but you should stay close in case she wakes up. Not the best situation we’re in but I think the less people that know she’s here, the better.” 

“Yeah,” he takes another drink of the coffee and shakes his head, “Yeah, that’s a good idea, thanks. I’ll get you if anything happens.”

[bg-sparrow]

Fandom: Back to the Future || Rating: T || Genre: Whump, Angst, Some Humor || Summary: In which Marty finds himself living an outlaw’s life alongside Buford Tannen in the Old West, where danger, death, and disease abound.

whumpril 2024 || day 10 - adrenaline

CW: stab wound

When provoked, an outlaw demonstrated a range of unnerving albeit impressive skills. For some reason, Marty didn’t apply that to Buford. Buford’s acclaimed skill necessitated a gun in his hand, and his temper paired well with his trigger finger. But he was all bark, no bite without his gun. Or so Marty thought. Forget “Mad Dog” – Buford became a bear in hand-to-hand combat. Ferocious, formidable, unstoppable; all teeth and brawn. Fury didn’t need good form. But Buford rarely walked away unscathed. Marty’s eyes doubled when Buford sat down at the fire that night. “There is a knife in your back.”

[uuuhshiny]

Russell Crowe in State of Play

Fear

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Whumpril 2023 - Day 10

Ahhh I've missed Lux, he's such a good character!! Lux is @friendlylocalwhumper's oc!

TWs: captivity, imprisonment, blood mentioned

Shiver | Breathless | "I'm scared."

The young mage in front of Mariano had been shaking since the night before. He'd curled up in the corner of their shared cell after being tossed back in. It was obvious he hadn't given their captors what they'd wanted--the bruises and blood spotting on the back of his shirt spoke volumes.

He was sniffling, but he wasn't crying. He was curled in on himself, curls trembling as he breathed, but it wasn't the rough shaking of someone unused to these circumstances. He'd been routinely beaten before.

That mage was too young to know how to cope with this.

Mariano shifted where he sat against the hard concrete walls. Heavy footsteps walked past their steel door, purposeful but leisurely. The guards passed by every fifteen minutes. He waited until they faded.

"Hey." Mariano started, his own voice muffled by the remnants of a bloody nose from earlier. The young mage looked up, blue eyes wide as they met Mariano's. "I'm Mariano. What's your name?"

The mage hesitated. He was used to watching out for himself, and names were important. "...Lux."

Mariano didn't move closer. Lux didn't need more people invading his space. "Lux, pretend to be asleep the next time they come in." He said, keeping his voice low.

"Wh...what?" Lux's voice wobbled as he readjusted how his arms were wrapped around his knees.

Mariano glanced back at the door. They still had a few minutes before the next round. "Let me take them. Pretend to be asleep."

Lux looked at Mariano for a good minute, seemingly trying to figure out what his angle was. The mages here were cautious, and prioritized survival. They couldn't trust just anyone. "Why?" He finally asked.

"They've been hard on you. Haven't even broken out the whip on me, yet." Mariano said, finally looking back at Lux. "I've got someone coming for me soon, he's just a day or two away. I can handle it."

Mariano couldn't read the expression that passed over Lux's face. Disbelief? Distrust? Hope? It was there and gone before he could nail it down. "...Fine." Lux settled on after a soft hum. "Okay. If you're sure."

Mariano smiled, small and stiff. Some tension fell from Lux's shoulders as he settled back into his huddle. The shivers that had been constantly crawling up his back seemed to slowly die down.

When the guards came around the next time looking for someone, Mariano upheld his offer. He fired his magic at them, aiming wide. He didn't need to hit them. When terrified, furious eyes locked onto his smirk, he knew he didn't even need to say anything.

The getting punched in the face and hauled out of a cell had never tasted so sweet.

[binarydreams1010]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Reigen Arataka/Serizawa Katsuya Characters: Reigen Arataka, Serizawa Katsuya Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Mutual Pining, Sickfic, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Domestic Fluff, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Protective Serizawa Katsuya Summary:

December is off to an unseasonably cold start, and Reigen's apartment building losing heat a few days before a major snow storm is expected to arrive. Considering how bad Reigen tends to be at taking care of himself, Serizawa really ought not to have been surprised when he showed up on Friday with a raging fever.