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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 6 months

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A Cut

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 14. Set during RttE’s King of Dragons, Part 1. Hiccup almost avoids being hit by the harpoon aimed for the Titantwing Dramillion

Warning: Some violence

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless, Fishlegs, Meatlug, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Spitelout

Pairing: /

Words: 1 243

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Bleeding through the bandages, field medicine, no anesthesia

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: I could've written something really heavy, but I decided to keep it light for this one.

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

Hiccup saw the harpoon coming and made the split second decision to dodge out of the way. His left cheekbone burns intensely after. His heart pounding, unwilling to comprehend how close he's just come with death, he follows the direction it's going. Toothless’ gaze is only on him, having feared for a headless rider. The harpoon strikes the Titanwing Dramilion and it falls.

All he can do is shriek "no!" and give chase, but he and Toothless fail to keep the injured dragon from falling into enemy hands.

Watching as Johann and the Flyers flee the scene with the Dramillion, Hiccup barely notices the blood quickly seeping from his wound. Though Toothless can certainly smell the metallic tang in the air. One peek at his Rider and he's off to find Fishlegs.

-XOXOX-

Most of the Dragon Riders and Spitelout watch in strange fascination as Fishlegs tries his best to stop the bleeding. Hiccup sits on a rock as his friend holds his face. One hand cups his uninjured cheek, the other holds cloth to the cut. Toothless spaces from his one side to the other, keeping a close and worried eye on him.

"Do you guys really have nothing better to do?" He glares at his friends. "Like finding that Dramilion?!"

He’s in a bad mood for obvious reasons. He’s angry that they couldn’t save the Dramillion and that they’re forced to waste time treating his injuries instead of chasing after the Flyers. Fishlegs has a cloth pressed against his cheek, but it just keeps getting redder from all the blood he’s losing. It has already run down his throat and soaked through his tunic. That certainly doesn’t help either.

"Astrid's got it covered," Ruffnut speaks up.

"Yeah, and she's got it covered alone!" Hiccup protests. Another reason to be in a bad mood.

"Except she's not alone, she has Stormfly with her," she reasons. As if one dragon will matter to a fleet and the Flyers.

He can’t help but express his annoyance.

“Hiccup, don’t move!” Fishlegs protests, pulling his friend back. “This cut is very deep, I won’t be surprised if it’s gone down to the bone!”

“Man, your face is half off!” Snotlout remarks in disturbed fascination.

“Snotlout, my face is not “half off!” Hiccup sighs.

“You came close to losing yer face, boy-o. That harpoon almost took your head clean off!” Spitlout says, bellowing with laughter. Without a doubt, it’s going to be a good story to tell around the fire.

“That’s going to be such a cool scar,” Tuffnut helpfully states.

“You mean hot,” his sister argues.

Hiccup averts his gaze away from his friends, looking up at Fishlegs and patting Toothless’ nose. He hates being here when Astrid is all alone out there and when the Titanwing Dramilion- possibly the King of Dragons- is in danger. If they can somehow harness its mind controling powers… that would be disastrous.

Fishlegs' gaze meets his and there's an understanding between the two.

"Hey guys, can you go find me some medicinal herbs? I won't be able to stop this bleeding without them," he requests his friends.

"What? No, you don't," Snotlout crosses his arms.

"Come on, guys, I really need those herbs and Hurry! Hiccup is bleeding through everything I'm using!" He exaggerates.

"Actively dying here!" Hiccup ups the drama.

"No, he-" but before Snotlout can finish his complaint, Hookfang grabs his rider by the scruff and hauls him away. Meanwhile, Ruff and Tuff mount Barf and Belch and exclaim something about a quest before leaving. After Spitelout leaves the four of them have some peace.

A moment passes.

"Thanks, I really needed some peace and quiet," Hiccup thanks his friend.

"Oh, it's not a big deal," Fishlegs pulls the cloth away to see a fresh stream gust out of the cut. "But that cut is bleeding a lot, though."

"Don't most facial injuries?" Hiccup asks, remembering being told as such by the man in front of him.

Fishlegs regards him for a moment. He's right, but this one happens to be very deep. He presses a cleaner part of the cloth to his friend’s face, but it immediately colors a deep red. His hands are stained with it, too.

He sighs. He fears it might only stop bleeding when he stitches it.

“Meatlug,” he calls for his dragon and the Gronckle steps closer. Hiccup takes the cloth over from him to hold against his cheek as he rummages through his saddlebag looking for supplies.

-XOXOX-

“And… done!” Fishlegs remarks as he cuts the thread. The wound has been stitched and the bleeding has stopped.

Hiccup releases a breath, relieved that it's over. Just because his face was already burning as if on fire it doesn't mean that he didn't feel every sting of the needle pushed methodically into his skin or didn't feel his skin being pulled back together again.

"I'm okay, Bud," he tells his dragon. Toothless takes his paw back, he'd given it for Hiccup to take and squeeze in his lap. He licks the back of his hand. "Thanks."

"And thank you, Fishlegs. Both for stitching me up and for giving me some peace, I really needed it," he thanks him. The other Dragon Riders and Spitelout have yet to return from their mission to find botanical help.

He pats Toothless' nose.

"Oh, it's no problem, Hiccup. Really!" Fishlegs smiles at him. It's an expression Hiccup returns to the best of his ability, but it doesn't last long.

"Now we should probably find the others, catch up with Astrid before she catches up with the fleet," Hiccup says.

“Wait, right now? Hiccup, I just finished stitching you up, don’t you want to rest first?” Fishlegs asks and Toothless, too, seems to protest. He wants to chase after Astrid, too, but he would rather do it without risking his human.

“Fishlegs, it’s just a cut.”

“And it almost went down to the bone! You’re lucky you didn’t lose an eye! Or your life!” Fishlegs is exasperated. Of course, Hiccup wants to get right back up on his dragon and get to work.

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

At that, Toothless all but roars in Hiccup’s face. He sits up right, paws using the human’s knees for support. He glares at him while the other stares up at him in surprise.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Toothless,” Fishlegs crosses his arms. Neither of them will be letting Hiccup leave.

The man must be in a lot of pain, because he sighs in defeat and concedes. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to go flying with his face pounding like this.

“Fine,” he says. “But we have to catch up with Astrid.”

“I’ll find the others, we’ll go after Astrid and come back for you. I promise,” Fishlegs tells him and Meatlug approaches to let him mount up. She warbles at Hiccup, who pats her nose.

“Okay… If Snotlout and the twins give you trouble, just tell them that they’ll be doing patrol for a month if they don’t do what you say,” Hiccup tells him and he nods before Meatlug takes off. They leave Hiccup and Toothless behind.

The latter curls up around the former, his head ending up on his lap. Hiccup lays his arms on top of him and his chin follows slowly.

It stays quiet between them and a part of Hiccup is glad to stay behind with his Bud.

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banditthewriter · 1 year

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Bad Things Happen Bingo 2.0 - Bleeding Through The Bandages

Bleeding Through The Bandages requested by anonymous with Tommy Shelby for the @badthingshappenbingo

621 words.

Enjoy!

***

Besides the rain outside, there wasn’t much noise in the room. You shifted a few times in the chair, but didn’t move much beyond that. It had been the same way for the last two days. Besides getting up to bathe once, you hadn’t left this room in two days.

A noise came from the bed across from you and you looked up from the book you were reading. Although he’d made a noise, Tommy hadn’t done more than that. No movement, no sign that he was waking up.

Probably for the best.

The number of bandages wrapped around his body were beyond your count. Part of you thought he looked a bit like a mummy, but you hadn’t said that to anyone. A slice of dark humor could be frowned upon in a hospital.

You weren’t really sure what happened. The police were looking into it, Arthur was looking into it, something even made you think that Polly was looking into it. Whether there were any updates, you had no idea. When anyone came into the room, they didn’t give you information. They just asked if you needed anything.

Did you need anything? Probably. You hadn’t eaten in a while, you couldn’t remember the last time you did more than doze for a few minutes at a time, but those were inconsequential.

All you really needed was Tommy to wake up.

Whatever made Tommy Shelby so special to you, you couldn’t shake your worry for him. The two of you might not be technically together, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. And that also didn’t stop Poly and Arthur and John and the others treating you as if you were his…his something.

As if between blinks, you must have fallen asleep. You jerked awake and forced the tiredness away. There was something in your senses that took a moment to decipher.

Moaning and thrashing. You sat up and then jumped from the chair to rush over to where Tommy was jerking back and forth on the bed. He was mumbling under his breath as he tossed, words you couldn’t comprehend. Instead of focusing on that, you reached out and grabbed his shoulders.

“Tommy, it’s okay. Sweetheart, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

He nearly jerked off the bed, his eyes screwed shut as he thrashed. Between mumbles, you heard your name.

“Yes Tommy, it’s me. I’m here.”

That seemed to make him thrash more, his hands gripped on your wrists as he did. You noticed red splotches on his bandages starting to bleed through. His voice raised as he spoke, words clearer this time.

“Not safe. You’re not safe.”

That made you hesitate. He wasn’t worried about his own safety or well being, he was worried about yours. What that meant for what happened to him, you weren’t sure. Maybe that had something to do with why everyone was being so careful with you.

“It’s okay Tommy, I’m safe. I’m here with you and I’m safe, I promise.”

You hoped you weren’t wrong about that, but your only worry was him. You needed him to settle, needed him to calm down so that you could get a nurse to check his bandages. There seemed to be a lot of blood showing up now.

Tommy strained upwards, desperate to get to you. You smoothed your hand over his forehead and soothed him some more with your words. You bent down to press your lips to his cheek, his forehead, his lips; the few places not overly marred by bruises.

You needed him to be okay. Whatever happened, whatever was coming, you needed Tommy to be safe. And it sounded like he needed you to be safe.

That’s what mattered right then.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #bleeding through the bandages #bad things happen bingo #my writing #peaky blinders

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whumpapalooza · 10 months

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Stitches & Bandages

His foot hit a root. He gasped, stumbling, and let go of the kindling under his left arm. At the same time, he instinctively held out a hand to brace for impact.

Too late, he realized he was reaching out with his bandaged arm. He couldn't stop before he grabbed the trunk of a nearby tree to steady himself.

The pain was immediate. It shot up his forearm and burned. He hissed, knees bending as he cradled his injury. His skin felt like it was splitting, blood pushing through healed tissue.

Someone called his name. There was a clatter of more kindling dropping to the forest floor, and then hands were on his shoulders.

"I'm alright," he said preemptively. He opened his eyes to smile up at his friend.

She didn't smile back. Her face was pale, eyes fixed on his bandaged arm. In a panicky voice, she said, “I thought you stopped bleeding!”

He glanced down at his forearm. A dark red stain was seeping through the wrapped layers of bandages. It was spreading quickly. "I've reopened the wound, it seems," he muttered.

#wij23day3 #whumpmasinjuly2023 #whump #bleeding through the bandages #no character names or context because I'm not ready to publish this fic yet #even though I've been working on it since January #hopefully sometime this month I start uploading it...

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alpaca-clouds · 1 year

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Bad Things Happen Bingo: Bleeding Through the Bandages

Next Bingo Square for the @badthingshappenbingo is done. This one for the prompt Bleeding Through The Bandages. It is chapter 2 for the multi-chapter fic on the bingo.

#bad things happen bingo #bleeding through the bandages #sickfic #castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania isaac #castlevania hector #hector x isaac

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depizan · 2 years

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Almost Perfect

The mission went perfectly, except for the knife-wielding interloper who didn’t bother to ask questions. Such as whether Kyrian belonged in that room, either, or whether he was going to call for the guards. The answers would have been “no” and “no,” and would have saved them both no small amount of trouble.

Whumptober (2021) prompt #21: bleeding through the bandages

26.2.10, night

The mission had gone perfectly. The embassy party served as both cover and a distraction – with the guards occupied fishing revelers out of ornamental fountains, quiet corridors, and unlocked offices, even if Kyrian had been noticed, he would have been assumed to be just another misplaced guest looking for a ‘fresher or an assignation. The fixers at the local Intelligence post had given him everything he needed to access the ambassador’s suite and transmit the data from his terminal undetected. He should have been on his way out through the mingling guests to where Kaliyo waited in a speeder.

He was crouched behind a large piece of statuary, trying to fashion an unobtrusive bandage out of a formal jacket. The material was not terribly thick or absorbent, and the deep gash in his forearm wouldn’t stop bleeding. The only upside, however tiny, was that the current fashion in formalwear ran to very dark colors. No one was likely to notice the blood unless they got quite close. And were sufficiently sober.

The black-clad figure who had emerged from the ambassador’s bedroom had been every bit as surprised to see him as he had been to see them. Unfortunately, they’d also had their knife at the ready.

Kyrian pulled the jacket tighter around his arm and tried to drape the loose end casually. Just a jacket draped over his arm. Never mind the spreading wetness or the awkward way it lay. The lighting in the main part of the embassy was dim – for ambience – and the guests were working their way through the embassy’s wine cellars.

He stood. The hall wobbled disconcertingly. He slumped back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. Down the hall, down the stairs, out through the front doors. It wasn’t that far. He wasn’t losing that much blood.

He took a deep breath and pushed away from the wall. Nothing was really wobbling. Not even him. It was just a little wooziness. And any unsteadiness he did show could be passed off as drink. Just as his slight dishevelment could be passed off as a different sort of exertion.

He walked, very carefully, down the hall, trying not to wonder if he was leaving a trail of blood drops.

#whumptober2021 #no.21 #bleeding through the bandages #blood #fic #i write #Kyrian Nessar

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ottern0t · 17 days

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(Tiny cw- nonsexual nudity) Context: i headcanon all timelords are intersex and ten got human dysphoria from being on earth so long

#he only starts using actual transtape when rose sees his dreaded ace bandage situation #shes like “ill buy you some kt tape” and she does and gives it to him #he looks up how to use it for his intended purpose #and with like 2007 internet there isnt too much #so he sees one before and after image and is like “okay i know how to put this on”#hes happy and rose can tell but one day he offhandedly says #like its nothing #“i hope the bleeding-through-the-tape thing stops with time”#and she's like “what the fuck”#shes like “its not supposed to do that”#and he has a steady progression like that one pedro pascal gif from laughing to crying #so now shes doing lots of research and making sure he binds healthily #lovebirds #tenrose #doctor who #timepetals #timepetalsfanart #rosetyler #doctor who fanart #tenth doctor #trans tenth doctor #doctor who headcanon #nonsexual nudity #nonsexual intimacy #otter-not an art tag 🙄 definently

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linecrosser · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023 - Day 14 - Bleeding through the Bandage

"Hold on, just hold on, I will get you to a physician."

#whumptober #whumptober2023 #Bleeding through the Bandage #blood #injured #achaar djaanib #shakkau #kujuun #whump #whump art

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 6 months

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Whump Prompt #1297

Whumptober #28: Bloody Knife

A: "Yes! Alright, I got stabbed with a bloody knife, can we please get back to the matter at hand?”

B: “Not until you go to medical.”

A: “I patched myself up earlier- don’t look at me like that, I said I’m fine!”

B: *glare deepens*

A: “For goodness sake- I’ll go later!”

C: “Are all you brits so stubborn?”

A: “Piss off!”

C: “Charming.”

#i got my days mixed up :(#apologies for that!#british character #whumptober2023 #whump #writing #prompts #angst #rip hunter #rip hunter coded character #the tag wont stick #i just found it funny #stabbed #swearing #makeshift bandages #bleeding through bandages #stubborn whumpee

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just-here-for-the-whump · 6 months

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Leverage 5x9 The Rundown Job

#leverage #eliot spencer #christian kane #alec hardison #parker #whump #injury #cared for #gsw #shot #medical care #bleeding through bandages #helped to walk #team as family

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 7 months

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What Went Wrong

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 1. Poisoned, 8. Seizure, 14. Bleeding Through the Bandage, 21. Near-Death Experience, 30. Coma, Alt. Prompt: Bloody Knuckles Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag, f!reader Summary: After a mission goes spectacularly wrong, Rick is forced to relay what happened, no matter how painful it is for him to relive it. Word Count: 5033 TW: Poison, Mentions of Death, Blood/Bleeding, Seizure, Hospital, Language, Rick is taller than Reader Note: Written for @ailesswhumptober's event. Thank you to the anon who requested Bloody Knuckled with Rick! It was really a wonderful inspiration! And thank you to @loverhymeswith for all the support and beta reading for me! 💖

Colonel Rick Flag sat in the small break room—now a makeshift interrogation room—oblivious to the world around him. All he could do was stare blankly down at his busted, swollen knuckles and watch as his blood slowly reddened the gauze he couldn’t remember someone wrapping them in. Apparently, someone had also given him something for the pain, but it was doing little to stop the throbbing ache that seemed to intensify with every beat of his heart. Yet, he sort of liked it. It gave him something to focus on, to ground him, even as everything else around him lay in ruins.

Gritting his teeth, he balled his left hand into as much of a fist as the swelling and bandaging would allow, and almost blacked out as every nerve running from his hand up his arm screamed out in excruciating agony. Squeezing his eyes together tightly, he stifled a groan of pain as he forced himself to maintain the fist.

Focus on the physical pain. Just focus on the physical pain. Let everythin’ else slip away until there is nothin’ but this pain.

“Colonel Flag….Colonel….Sir—”

“Flag!”

Waller’s sharp tone cut through his fog and Rick’s fist instinctively uncurled, lessening the pain to a point where he once again became aware of his surroundings. Blinking, he looked up to stare at the pair in front of him in a slight daze. “W-what?”

Waller nodded at the other man who shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he cleared his throat and glanced down at the stack of papers in front of him. “Uh, yes, well, I understand this may be difficult for you but we need to get your official statement on what happened for the record.”

Rick sighed as he scratched at the gauze on his hand. “Do we really have to do this right now? I got better places to be.”

The man shot him an apologetic smile. “I understand that but the less time that passes between the event and the report, the more accurate it is. And considering there were numerous asset casualties, we need this to be as accurate as possible to avoid any liabilities.”

“Assets and liabilities,” Rick spat, the words like ash in his mouth. “That’s all any of them are to you, isn’t it? Numbers on a page to use how you want. But the members of Task Force X are people. Yeah, people who made some wrong choices or did horrible things, but that doesn’t mean they are just fodder you can throw at your problems.”

“It wasn’t so long ago that you too viewed your squad members as nothing more than that,” Waller said coldly, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes completely devoid of all emotion. “I wonder, did your view on them change before or after you started crawling into one of their beds?”

Rick leaped to his feet, his metal chair clanging loudly on the hard tile as it toppled over. The man jumped and cowered back in surprise, but Waller didn’t even flinch. Instead, she continued to stare Rick down, daring him to try and make a move against her. But they both knew what would happen if he did….

Recognizing he was in an impossible situation, Rick could only point at Waller and snarl, “You leave her out of this. Whatever relationship we might have didn’t affect what happened on the mission. And what I do on my own time is my own business.”

“Maybe, but you fucked her while she was my prisoner, which makes it my business.”

Before Rick could snap back, the man cleared his throat, his face bright red behind his glasses, and he reached for one of his papers. Scanning it, he asked, “Excuse me but are you confirming you had an intimate relationship with Belle Reve prisoner 0806?”

Rick turned his attention to the man, anger gleaming in his hazel eyes. This just proved his point. To them, you were nothing more than a faceless number, something to be used when convenient then tossed back into a cell like the other thousand inmates of Belle Reve.

“Yes,” Rick said through gritted teeth as the man began to write something on his papers. “After several assignments together, a connection developed and we became romantically then intimately involved.”

The man paused his scribbling and glanced up as Waller began slowly walking around to stand behind Rick. “‘Romantically’...so this relationship between you and this inmate was more than just physical?”

A thousand moments with you unwillingly flashed through Rick’s mind: your head resting on his shoulder as you slept on the flight home from a mission; the determined glare on your face as you fought off a swarm of enemies all by yourself; the way he didn't need to say a word for you to know exactly what he needed; the pure adoration in your eyes as he settled between your legs on your tiny prison cot. How could he not have fallen in love with you?

Rick once again tightened his hand into a loose fist as he growled, “Why the fuck does it matter right now? However you define it, it didn’t affect the mission at all.”

“Given how the evacuation team found you, sir, one might say differently.” Rick began to rise up out of his seat but the man put up his hands. “I’m sorry. I have to ask these kinds of questions so we can get the full picture of what went on in that lab. It’s in your best interest as well as ours if you can be as honest and detailed as possible so we have all the information when presenting our findings. Right now, the depth of your relationship with this inmate only matters to me if it caused some sort of misconduct during the mission that led to its failure. Otherwise, I don’t care what the two of you have been up to or how you feel about each other, I promise.”

Rick could feel Waller’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head and he knew that she felt very differently. If she had her way, he would be court-martialed immediately. Not because he had been sleeping with you or because he loved you—no, he was certain she already knew about that. But now that it was public knowledge the head of her pride-and-joy task force was sleeping with one of its criminal assets presumedly right under her nose, it would put a black mark not only on the squad but on her as well. And that was not something Waller took lightly.

But for now, she wasn’t his main concern. He needed to get out of this room and upstairs as soon as possible. So, he nodded to the man and motioned for him to continue with his questions.

“Thank you.” The man gave Rick a small smile and looked back down at his papers. After scanning them for a minute, he looked at Rick and said, “Now then, Colonel, to the best of your recollection, can you tell us what happened? What went wrong?”

What went wrong….. It was the thought that had been plaguing Rick for the past twenty-four hours. He had replayed the entire mission over and over in his head trying to figure out what he could have done differently to save his team…..to save you.

It was supposed to be a textbook in-and-out mission with no foreseeable complications. An underground lab was developing a new weapon that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands—which included the scientists developing it. Though hidden, the lab didn’t appear to have more than the most basic levels of security and it seemed like a cakewalk for a small team to go in, destroy the research and weapon, and secure any scientists on site.

Because of this, it was determined this would be a good chance to break in the newest recruits to Task Force X and Rick found himself leading a team comprised almost entirely of untrained, terrified ex-criminals who wouldn’t shut up or fall into line. Before they even got off the plane, he was ready to detonate every last one of their nanite bombs.

Luckily, you had been allowed to tag along to help keep everyone under control….including Rick. Even if no one realized how deeply the connection between the two of you went, it was obvious that you had a way of calming him down and centering him even in the most dangerous or stressful of situations. Rick pretended to hate the idea that he needed someone to manage him but honestly, he didn’t mind as long as it meant he got to spend more time with you.

On your very first mission with Task Force X, Rick noticed you were special and unlike anyone he had met before. And by the third mission, he had you pressed against a wall in a dark alley as you shoved your tongue down his throat. Since then, he would do whatever he could to be near you, including bribing the guards to turn off the cameras in your cell for a few hours once or twice a month—and still it wasn’t enough. He was counting down the missions until you earned your freedom and he could have you in his bed every night without having to leave.

And this mission would bring that dream one step closer to a reality.

Once inside the building, Rick sent the rest of the Squad to destroy everything in the labs (he figured they could handle unbridled destruction without needing supervision) while you went with him to find the mainframe and extract any information you could before wiping it.

The plan seemed to be going perfectly until you and Rick finished your assignment and were heading back to the rendezvous point. Just as you reached the lab’s exit, there was a whirring sound and a pair of thick, metal doors slammed shut inches in front of Rick’s face. You spun around to try to rush back the way you came, but another door slid shut, blocking your retreat.

“Damn it!” Rick yelled as he slammed his fist against the thick metal door. Sighing, he picked up his radio to call into headquarters. Usually, they would all be on earpieces, but since it was supposed to be such a simple mission, they had forgone them this time. “Control, this is Flag. Do you copy?”

The radio crackled to life. “We copy, Flag. Did you complete your mission?”

“Affirmative, Harcourt. But on the way to the rendezvous, we got cut off. We are trapped between two metal doors and I can’t see a way out. Requestin’ an extraction team to come get us.”

“Launching extraction team now. ETA is approximately fifteen minutes. Stand by.”

“Copy.” Rick slipped the radio back into his cargo pocket and shrugged at you. “Well, I guess we just wait. At least we have a few minutes alone together until they show up.”

Looking around at the tight space you were now trapped in, you took a step closer, pressed your palms against Rick’s back, and leaned against him as you whispered, “Rick…I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Ah hell, darlin’,” Rick muttered. “Now why’d you have to say somethin’ like that?”

Suddenly, the sprinkler heads on the ceiling sprang to life, and a mysterious liquid sprayed down on you. It was clear like water but had an oily consistency and a bitter, acidic smell to it. Rick spun around, grabbed your arm, and pulled you tight against his chest trying to use his large form to shield you from as much of it as possible but it was of little use. Soon, you were both drenched from head to toe.

It lasted for less than a minute before the sprinklers turned off once again. Lifting your head from where you had buried it in Rick’s chest, you glanced around before muttering, “What the fuck was that about?”

“I don’t know. But I think we should get outta here before we find out.” Rick turned back to the metal door and began examining it for any sort of weak point or hidden switch.

From behind him, he heard you audibly shiver and he glanced back to see you rubbing your hands over your still dripping arms trying to warm yourself up. He wished he had something to give you but he doubted his soaked tact jacket would provide you any warmth. Either the extraction team needed to hurry up or he needed to get you both out of here as soon as possible.

However, just as he began to turn back to the door, there was a burst of static from above you, and a voice called out from a hidden speaker, “So, this must be the current iteration of Task Force X. Welcome!” You and Rick exchanged a nervous glance as the voice continued. “I had a feeling Waller would track me down eventually, and it looks like I was right. Good thing I took precautions.”

“Who the hell are you?” Rick called out as his eyes scanned the ceiling trying to locate where the voice was coming from.

“She didn’t tell you? She just sent you out on a mission without briefing you on what you were walking into?” The voice scoffed. “Why am I not surprised? Well, let me introduce myself. I used to be one of the head research and developers at ARGUS before Waller got everything she wanted from me and tried to have me arrested despite the fact everything I did was under her orders. You see, I’m the guy who developed the technology that made the nanite bombs possible, including that one currently residing in your girlfriend’s head.”

You gasped as your eyes grew wide and your hand flew to the side of your neck, your finger tracing the small bump just under your skin that Rick knew was there. His eyes met yours and he knew you were both thinking the same thing: If this maniac invented the bombs then chances were….

Rick glared up at the ceiling and roared, “Now listen here you bastard—”

“I can’t detonate it if that’s what you’re worried about,” the voice calmly interrupted. “Waller is smart enough to change the frequency for every mission which means I, unfortunately, can’t access them. However, I had a feeling she would kick me to the curb once she had my technology so I neglected to tell her about the one flaw in my design. The unintended way to weaponize them. The one I just set in motion.”

A chill ran down Rick’s spine. “What are you talkin’ about? What did you do!”

“Rick…” Your fingers dug into his arm as you reached for him, your shivering intensifying—but whether that was from cold or fear, Rick didn’t know.

“The bombs are not the only thing injected into the subjects,” the voice continued. “A small amount of a typically harmless chemical surrounds it to help the body not reject the foreign object or start breaking it down. I say ‘typically harmless’ because it only becomes toxic when mixed with another rare compound….the same compound that was just released from the sprinkler system moments ago.”

“What did you do to me?” you asked, addressing the voice directly for the first time. “What’s going to happen?”

“Oh, not just you, my dear. Those sprinklers went off all over the building so I’m sorry to say your entire team is about to suffer the same fate as you…except for the Colonel that is. Or did Waller implant a bomb into you as well? It wouldn’t surprise me if she did.”

“Shut the fuck up and just tell us how to stop this!”

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that. I need Waller to pay for what she did to me and show her she was wrong for ever doubting my abilities. And the best way to do that is by eliminating part of her precious Task Force X. I am sorry you had to be a casualty of our war but just like any game of chess, pawns get sacrificed. I would hurry up and say your goodbyes if I were you. The toxin forming in her blood should begin to take effect any time now and her body will destroy itself before your backup arrives. But Colonel….tell Waller I said hello.”

The speaker crackled out, leaving the two of you standing in a horrified silence. Rick’s mind was spinning with everything he had just heard. What the voice said couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t be. After all, Waller would have known about it.

“Rick?”

Waller was the one who came up with Task Force X and she oversaw every single detail as it came to fruition. She couldn’t have overlooked something like this….could she?

“Rick.”

But then again, what if she had? She wasn’t a scientist and wouldn’t understand all the uses of the different chemicals they were using with the technology. So what if the voice wasn’t lying and you only had a few minutes before—

“Rick!”

He whirled around to see you slumped against the far wall, your eyes wide as you wiped your fingers under your nose and watched them come away bloody, a bright smear still left on your face as more began to trickle out of your nose.

“No….”

He closed the distance between you in two long strides and took your face between his large hands. Your body was shaking slightly as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes and your voice broke as you said, “Rick, I can feel it. It’s already happening. Oh God—” you frantically grabbed onto his wrists as his hands still cupped your face “—I’m scared. I’m not ready to die. Not now. Not when I’ve found—” The rest of your words were lost as you broke down sobbing.

Rick pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Resting his chin on the top of your head and rubbing soothing circles across your back, he whispered, “It’s okay, darlin’. You’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you outta here and get you help, you hear me? I can’t lose you either so I need you to fight. Fight and just hold on, for as long as you can. We’re gonna get outta here…together.”

He felt you nod into his chest and gently moved you away to look at you. Red-tinted tears trailed down your cheeks and more blood was smeared under your nose. Rick glanced down and saw some of it had wiped off on his jacket, but it didn’t matter. He bent down and pressed his lips furiously against yours—trying to ignore the metallic taste of blood coating your lips— then turned back towards the exit door.

He had already searched every inch of it for some sort of switch but maybe he could pry it open. Rick tried to get his fingernails to dig into the seam where the two doors met, but the seal was just too strong. Maybe if he could find something to wedge between them….

As he quickly scanned the room for something—anything—he could use, he saw you clutch your chest as you began to cough. It started out small, like just clearing your throat. However, within what seemed like seconds, it had evolved into a wheezy, rattling hack that wracked your entire body. Rick watched helplessly as fresh blood sprayed across the floor as a particularly deep cough forced you to double over.

As it subsided and you looked up at him, he inhaled sharply as he saw blood now not only trickling from your nose but from your eyes and mouth too. You tried to say something—it seemed like his name—however, from your rasping gasps, it was clear you weren’t getting enough air to breathe properly, let alone speak.

“No…” Rick couldn’t believe he was being forced to stand here and watch you die with no way to save you. “No!”

Throwing his entire weight behind it, Rick smashed his fist into the metal door. Logically deep down he knew there was no way he would ever be able to punch his way through it, but right now, logic was the furthest thing from his mind. Instead, he wound back and drove his other fist into the door.

Over and over again, he pounded at the metal, ignoring the pain as he felt his skin split and bones crack. The door was now smeared with the blood from his ruined knuckles but it was nothing compared to the blood that was spilling from you just behind him. Hearing you struggling and in pain yet knowing he was helpless to stop it was too much for him and he increased the strength of each blow.

It was only when he saw you collapse to the floor as your body began thrashing and convulsing that Rick abandoned his fruitless attempts at breaking through the door and he dropped to his knees beside you. Pulling your writhing body into his lap, he held you tightly against him and pressed his lips against your ear, muttering empty promises that everything was going to be alright.

As you continued to seize, blood began to flow more steadily from your eyes, nose, and mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your back arched and your entire body went rigid. You seemed to hold that pose for a moment, the entire room suddenly dead silent. Then, slowly and with one extended exhale, your body relaxed against his and your head lolled to the side.

Ice spread through Rick’s veins as he stared at your motionless form. No. This couldn’t be happenin’. Not to you. Please God, not you.

He gently took your face between his hands and turned it so he could see you better. Several trails of blood streaked down your face and though your eyes were mostly closed, he could just make out the dulled, faded color beneath your lids. And though you were lying on his chest, all he felt was an unnatural stillness—no heartbeat, no intake of breath. You were gone.

Tears began to stream down Rick’s cheeks as he buried his face in the top of your head. And though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he softly whispered, “Please, darlin’, come back to me. I need you and I love you and I can’t do this without you. So, please….come back.”

And that’s how Waller’s extraction team found the two of you moments later: Colonel Rick Flag with tears in his eyes as he clung to the limp body of one of the Belle Reve inmates.

Since that moment, Rick had been going on some sort of autopilot, letting himself be shuffled from place to place and doing what he was told. But now that his official statement had been taken and he had been released, there was only one place he needed to be. So, taking the hospital elevator up to the third floor, he stepped out onto the intensive care unit and followed the signs towards his destination.

When he reached the end of the hall, Rick stared through the window into the hospital room, his forehead pressed against the glass as he struggled to maintain some sort of composure. He could barely see your face past the countless machines and equipment hooked up to you in an effort to keep you alive.

By the time Waller’s extraction team had shown up and somehow managed to revive you, the poison had done its job and destroyed or seriously damaged most of your internal organs. It was a miracle the doctors were able to keep you alive this long, even if machines now controlled every aspect of your life support. The rest of the Task Force who had been in a different area of the building hadn’t been so lucky. The two of you were the only survivors—if you could call it that.

The doctors had done everything they could to save you and now the rest was up to you. Rick had heard the full spectrum of possible prognoses ranging from you making a full recovery to you being incapable of cognitive thought or movement—and all of it was dependent on you waking up which was an uncertainty on its own.

But for now, you lay motionless in your hospital bed just as you had for the past twenty-four hours.

Fury boiled in his gut as Rick’s eyes landed on the pair of handcuffs chaining you to the bed. Did they seriously expect you to jump up and sneak out of the hospital? Your heart was struggling to beat without assistance and air was constantly having to be forced into your lungs yet they had to make sure you wouldn’t miraculously make a daring escape. It made Rick sick. As did the fact he wasn’t permitted to be in the room with you. All he wanted was to hold your hand or press a soft kiss to your forehead, but Waller made sure no one except for her and the doctors were allowed in. Just another one of her attempts to punish him.

As if summoned by the very thought of her name, footsteps echoed off the tiles behind him growing louder and louder until Waller stepped into Rick’s peripheral vision. He ignored her, instead keeping his gaze firmly locked on you, and Waller seemed to do the same.

For several minutes, they stood in complete silence, the sounds of your rasping breathing and the beeping of machines the only sound in the dim hallway. Finally, without turning, Rick asked, “Did you know?”

“I know a lot of things, Flag, but you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Did you know the chemicals in the nanites could be used like that?”

Waller was silent for a moment before she answered curtly, “No. We knew about the chemical surrounding the bombs of course, but we were not aware it could be turned into a weapon. Our lab is already researching alternatives.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure my team would be thrilled to hear that if they weren’t all currently down in the morgue.”

“Mistakes happen, people die. But that’s why we formed Task Force X. Nobody cares when those dying are criminals.” Waller’s eyes shifted slightly from the window to Rick and back again. “With a few exceptions.”

Rick clenched his fist at her words then immediately regretted it as a sharp bolt of pain ran up his arm from his busted knuckles. He wanted nothing more than to make Waller feel the pain he was feeling. For her to understand how much he cared about you. But he knew nothing he did would make a difference. If anything, it would only make it worse.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, he asked, “So…what happens now?”

Folding her arms over her chest, Waller said, “Despite my objections, the board determined you did nothing wrong on the mission. They said there was nothing you could have done differently to save your team and you are not responsible for their deaths and thus will not receive any formal reprimand or punishment. However–” Waller raised one eyebrow as she glared at Rick “–I have not forgotten your…indiscretion with her and it will not be overlooked.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t known about us since the very start. You’ve just been waitin’ for the moment it best suited your interests to bring it up,” Rick growled. “I don’t care what you do to me but when she’s better I want her released from Belle Reve. She only had thirty years left on her sentence—twenty after this mission. And this….this more than makes up for the rest of her time.”

“Possibly,” Waller said thoughtfully. “First, we have to wait and see if she even pulls through, then we can have that discussion. But until that happens, I expect you to do your job.” She slapped a file down on the ledge of the window. “Your next assignment. You leave tomorrow and you better be on the tarmac on time. Otherwise all of this–” she gestured to the hospital equipment surrounding them “–goes away. Do we understand each other?”

Rick clenched his jaw tightly as he just barely managed to hold back the slew of curses he wanted to direct at his boss but he knew that was exactly what she was hoping for. So instead, he gritted his teeth and in his most Southern twang said, “Yes, Ma’am.”

The “fuck you” was loud and clear in his tone but Waller thankfully ignored it. Shooting him one last glare, she turned sharply and began marching back down the hall. However, Rick called after her, “And I want those cuffs taken off of her. Now.”

Without turning or breaking her stride, Waller replied, “When are you going to learn, Flag? You don’t call the shots around here. I do.” Then she turned down another hall and disappeared from sight.

Sighing, Rick gazed back at your unconscious form. Pressing his hand against the glass, he whispered, “It’ll be alright, darlin’, I promise you that. You don’t worry about anythin’ except gettin’ better and wakin’ up. You do that, and I’ll take care of the rest. And no matter what happens or how bad things are when you do wake up, I’ll be right by your side for all of it, Waller be damned. ‘Cause I love you, now and forever.”

He waited, hoping beyond hope you had heard his words and they helped rouse you from your sleep. But this wasn’t some feel-good movie or romance novel where his bedside pleas would make everything better and you would wake up to fall into his arms once again. No, this was real life and in real life, people didn’t get their happily-ever-afters.

At least…..not yet. As long as your heart was still beating—artificially or not— there was hope. And for now, hope was going to have to be enough.

Tag List: @loverhymeswith, @green-socks, @yespolkadotkitty, @heresathreebee, @tavners, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @mayhem24-7forever, @lovearne, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @that-sarcastic-writer, @indig0nebula, @katjnordstrom96, @wildbornsiren, @princessmisery666, @writercole

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whumpdoyoumean · 12 days

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I don't think there's ever been any doubt that The X-Files is an absolute treasure trove of whump, but man the season 2 finale is actually legendary. In the course of a SINGLE EPISODE we get:

-drugged Mulder -uncharacteristically angry, lashing out Mulder -grieving Mulder -feverish sweaty Mulder -Mulder semi-collapsing onto Scully -Mulder being led to bed and cared for by Scully -Mulder getting shot by Scully -Mulder with red-tinged bandages -Mulder walking around with his arm held to his chest to avoid aggravating his wound -fake death Mulder

It's just 45 minutes of physical, mental, and emotional suffering for him. If you haven't seen it, please do. Absolutely wonderful episode.

#the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #whump rec #2x25 #physical whump #emotional whump #drugged #fever #shot #angst #care #bandages #bleeding through bandages #whump #whump gifs

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lemissingmask · 6 months

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[ID: Sketch of Redemption-era Parker, Hardison and Eliot, with Hardison in the foreground, turning around to look at Parker and Eliot, and Parker and Eliot looking at each other. Parker is looking disapprovingly at Eliot's shoulder, which has some blood soaking through his shirt, and Eliot is half-glaring back at her with his arms folded. End ID]

Day 14: Bleeding through the bandage

Eliot bleeding through bandages beneath his shirt. Silly little random ficlet below the cut.

“Do you have scurvy?”

Hardison was pretty immune by now to the unusual things that Parker sometimes said, but every now and then, one still got him.

Like that.

It could have been directed to him or Eliot, the only other people in the room, and turning he saw that it was the hitter who had just been accused of a vitamin C deficiency.

Understandably, Eliot was looking bemused, with that edge of irritated that came when he was trying not to be amused or endeared by them.

“Do you have scurvy?” Parker repeatedly, glaring back at him.

“What?”

Parker sighed and jabbed her index finger at the right side of Eliot’s chest, “You’re bleeding.”

And, he was. Deep red seeping through his shirt. Not a lot, and not quickly, but it was definitely there.

Eliot didn’t bother looking at where Parker was prodding. He was presumably already aware of the blood.

“People’s injuries reopen and bleed again when they have scurvy,” Parker pointed out, accurately, and demonstrating the very bad idea it was for Eliot to have decided to introduce her to historical naval fiction, “And you’re bleeding. Where you got shot.”

“I’ve been shot in a lot of places,” Eliot rejoined, “This ain’t an old wound.”

He jerked away from her finger when she made to poke again, but the thief followed and he didn’t bother attempting the escape more than once.

“If it’s not an old wound, when’d it happen? You said the hitters we ran into on the last job were amateurs. You went on a whole hour-long rant about useless hitters and the idiots who hired them,” Hardison asked, turning fully away from the screens with the job they were planning.

This seemed more important right now.

“Incident at Paul’s place yesterday,” Eliot said, offering no further explanation, and trusting them not to be indiscrete enough to ask for details.

Eliot had started visiting Paul regularly, sometimes for social visits, occasionally with invites extended to the team, and sometimes to help out at the clinic.

Yesterday, he had been there to help, and somehow had got injured.

Hardison could guess explanations: a patient caught up in the trauma of war grew violent, a fight between people who once served together or maybe a grieving loved one and someone their lost companion had served with, anti-war violent protestors deciding to cause trouble in a small clinic, a slippery scalpel sliding out of Paul’s hand and coming to rest in Eliot …there were thousands of explanations ranging from simple and realistic to Sophie-soap opera level dramatic.

But he could imagine all day and Eliot would only tell them if they pressed, and if it involved no one but him.

“Need a hand with it?” Hardison asked as Parker poked at the injury again, now more out of revenge for his not having told them sooner.

Eliot shook his head, “Tore the stitches trainin’ this mornin’. Didn’ have time to redo ‘em.”

“Okayyy, well, you have time now, so…”

“I’ll do it later,” Eliot glared, “Just carry on with the…keep doin’ the…briefing!”

The words were broken by a combination of his own ever-present discomfort at expressions of concern directed towards him, and Parker getting in one last prod before they got back to work.

Reassured that Eliot wasn’t in any actual danger, Hardison smirked and turned back to the screens, picking up where he had left off while Parker gave Eliot quiet advice on how to avoid scurvy.

Hardison was pretty certain that the next time Eliot had a beer, Parker would be trying to put lime juice in it.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #day 14 #bleeding through the bandage #leverage redemption #parker #alec hardison #eliot spencer #cw blood

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whumpetywhump · 5 months

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Remember 15 - Ep. 4

Do not watch this show if you are under 18

#remember 15 #thai drama #aftermath #bandages #bleeding through bandages #too weak to move #concern #bedside vigil #protective boyfriend #caretaker #cradled #coughing #pain #comfort #jimmy karn #tommy sittichok #whump #thai whump #asian whump

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 7 months

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What Went Wrong

Focus on the physical pain. Just focus on the physical pain. Let everythin’ else slip away until there is nothin’ but this pain.

“Colonel Flag….Colonel….Sir—”

“Flag!”

Rick sighed as he scratched at the gauze on his hand. “Do we really have to do this right now? I got better places to be.”

“Maybe, but you fucked her while she was my prisoner, which makes it my business.”

Rick once again tightened his hand into a loose fist as he growled, “Why the fuck does it matter right now? However you define it, it didn’t affect the mission at all.”

But for now, she wasn’t his main concern. He needed to get out of this room and upstairs as soon as possible. So, he nodded to the man and motioned for him to continue with his questions.