Tumgik
#dude whump
actress4him · 1 year
Note
For bthb, could you do Keith with seizures? The cause could be something to with him being half Galra? Maybe it happens in the atlas (season 8?) completely optional suggestion I’d love it if you only do the first part (first time suggesting something so sorry if this is worded weirdly)
It’s been ages, and whoever you are, dear anon, I have no idea whether you’ll ever actually see this, but I hope you do and I hope you enjoy.
Tumblr media
@badthingshappenbingo
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Prompt: Seizures
Contains: dude whump, sensory overload, self-deprecating thoughts, seizure, references to past questionable foster care
.
.
Voltron had saved another planet. That meant yet another celebration to thank them, something that the team always had mixed feelings about. Lance and Allura and Coran loved them, always ready for a chance to mingle and socialize (and in Lance’s case, flirt), while Pidge and Keith were less than thrilled, both of them preferring to stay away from social situations whenever possible. Shiro and Hunk seemed to fall somewhere in the middle, only really complaining if they were especially tired, but enjoying themselves most of the time once they were there. 
He didn’t know about the others, but Keith also struggled with seeing the necessity of these events. Sure, he knew that the planet’s people were thankful for their help, but did it really require a party every time? Didn’t they have better things they could be doing, like, you know, saving more planets? This was a war. Allura was always preaching the importance of diplomacy, but he had a hard time believing that it should take precedence over battles.
Plus, they never really knew what they were getting themselves into when landing on an alien planet. Of all the members of Voltron, Keith really should have been the best at getting thrown into new, unknown situations. After all, that’s how he’d spent his entire childhood. But those families had all been human, at least, and therefore mostly predictable. Alien planets were anything but.
For instance, on most planets the celebrations had been rather formal affairs, some even with dancing like a ball straight out of a movie. Others had been more casual, and many focused on food (those were Hunk’s favorites, of course). 
On this particular planet, though, as soon as the president announced that the festivities would begin, the ballroom-like space turned instantly into a club. The main lights switched off, but were replaced by multi-colored beams that spun wildly around the room. Speakers hidden somewhere in the ceiling and walls began blasting what apparently passed as music on this planet, complete with a drumbeat that vibrated the floor.
Keith, taken completely off guard, couldn’t stop his violent flinch. He did, however, just barely catch himself before his hands clapped over his ears. Sucking in a deep breath, he forced his arms back down by his sides. Loud sounds had always been miserable for him. He’d had to learn a long time ago that it wasn’t always appropriate to indulge himself and try to block them out, though. Some people didn’t take very kindly to that, and the last thing he wanted was to insult anyone here. Allura would have his head. 
The lights were awful, too, and he blinked several times in a row before settling on just squinting at everything. Every time one flashed directly across his face he winced, trying not to squeeze his eyes shut and leave them that way. Not that it mattered much if he did, he could still see the colors behind his eyelids.
“Woo!” Lance yelled, immediately getting into the spirit and waving his arms over his head. “Heck yeah, this is what I call a party!” And he was off, sliding and bopping through the crowd, getting everyone around him excited and dancing.
Why can’t you be more like him? that ugly voice in Keith’s head sneered. Everybody loves Lance, no matter where we go. Really, why can’t you be more like any of them?
The rest of the team were all looking far more comfortable in this environment than he ever could. Some were dancing, others eating and chatting. Even Pidge had found someone to talk technology or math with, judging by the passion in her expression. Meanwhile, he just stood there awkwardly, fighting against the strong urge in every inch of his body to flee the room and find somewhere dark and quiet to hide. 
Pretty recently he’d finally realized that his sensitive eyes and ears probably came from his Galra side, thanks to getting to know the Blades and his mom and finding out more about their physiology. That didn’t make him feel any better about it. Sure, he was getting more and more used to the whole half-Galra thing, and getting closer to actually, fully accepting it. But this was just another case of being Galra making him different. More accurately, weird. Another reason why he’d never fit in anywhere he went.
And that’s why I can’t be like them. Because I’m not like them, and I never will be. 
Weaving slowly through the crowd of aliens, Keith made his way toward the wall closest to the entrance. He tried his best not to bump into anyone, despite the fact that half of them were in the middle of flailing - ahem, dancing. Still, hands and sleeves brushed against his arms and shoulders. Somehow they felt like pins pricking his skin, even through his jacket. He hurried past, wrapping his arms around himself tightly and tucking himself up against the wall. But the wall was vibrating, like the floor. It shot up his spine into his head, making him clench his teeth even harder, and he quickly stood up straight again. 
He thought he was going to be sick. Which was stupid, it was just lights and music. But it was crawling underneath his skin, pounding into his temples, clogging up his throat.
He wanted to go home.
“Hey, man! You okay over here?” Hunk appeared next to him, shouting to be heard over the chaos of music and conversations. “You look kinda pale.”
The added noise stabbed through Keith’s skull, and he tried his hardest not to show it. “‘m fine.”
Finishing chewing whatever he’d just popped into his mouth, Hunk frowned and stepped a little closer. “You sure? I mean, I know you don’t like parties, but…this seems a bit worse than normal.”
Keith looked over at him. He seemed entirely genuine, as Hunk usually was. “The lights and music are just…” This time he failed to keep from flinching when one of the beams crossed his face. “A lot. It’s no big deal, though.”
“Ohhh.” Hunk’s expression morphed from concern to something that was probably pity, which is not what he was hoping for. “Yeah, Shiro said at some point that you have like, sensitive eyes and stuff, right? I’m sorry, man. You could go back to the Castle, you know. You don’t have to stay if you’re miserable.” 
He shook his head. “No, it’s…it’s fine.” He wasn’t going to disappear and risk it causing any number of problems - alien presidents getting offended, Allura deciding she needed them all to line up and have some sort of ceremony, some kind of further attack occurring. Call him paranoid, but all of the above had happened before. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay.” 
He really needed this conversation to end now, though. Having to talk and focus on what Hunk was saying, and also smelling the food he was holding on top of the smell of a bunch of alien sweat and perfumes was making things even worse. It felt like his head was going to explode with all of the sensations it was trying to process. 
In fact, maybe it was already exploding. Maybe it was slowly frying, at least, because there were stars appearing around him that he was pretty sure weren’t part of the party’s special effects. Hunk was saying something else next to him, but Keith couldn’t process it, staring up at the blinking stars. Everything in the room seemed to be moving in slow motion all of a sudden. Then there was an especially bright burst of light, and he vaguely felt himself falling.
.
.
“I’ll be okay,” he said. “Don’t worry,” he said. But then Hunk was watching Keith stare off into space at nothing before starting to shake and dropping abruptly to the floor. 
“Whoa! Keith!” He dove onto his knees, torn between watching Keith’s whole body twitch and jerk uncontrollably and looking around frantically for someone to help him. Everyone’s attention was on the festivities, though, not down on the floor, and the music was way too loud to call out to anyone. Hunk was the only one who knew something was wrong.
And he was…not really equipped to handle something like this. He’d had some first aid classes, though, so he could…he could do this, right? It wasn’t like there was another choice. Keith needed him. 
This was definitely a seizure. And it was horrifying. But he had to ignore that and focus on what he could do. He knew he wasn’t supposed to hold onto him, couldn’t stop the terrible shaking that had taken over his body, but he was pretty sure it was a good idea to try and cushion his head. So he scooted over, reaching out tentatively and very, very carefully lifting Keith’s head with both hands until he could set it into his lap. 
The Red Paladin’s eyes were open, but only white was showing. Hunk’s heart was in his throat watching him. Vaguely he thought he remembered something about counting when someone was having a seizure, but he had no idea why or how much time had passed already so he didn’t try to start. All he could do at that point was watch and wait and hope that it would be over soon.
And eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, it was. Keith’s body relaxed as quickly as it had begun seizing, going limp on the floor. He looked…dead. Which completely freaked Hunk out for a moment, almost more than the seizure had to start with, until he saw his chest rise and fall once, then twice. Okay. Okay, so he wasn’t dead. He was…not okay, but he wasn’t seizing and he wasn’t dead. Now he just needed to get someone’s attention, and since the shaking was past he was able to scoop him up in his arms and stand. 
It didn’t take long after that for someone to notice them then. One paladin draped across another’s arms was kind of concerning, apparently, and pretty soon they had a swarm of aliens and the other paladins around them, ready to help.
.
.
After the stars and the falling, Keith didn’t remember much besides a buzzing sensation, like electricity had taken over his limbs. The next thing he was fully aware of was opening his eyes to blissful darkness and quiet. The only sound was a whispered conversation in an unseen corner of the room, which quickly came to a halt when he shifted. 
“Keith? You with us, bud?”
“Y-yeah.” He stretched out his legs, trying to figure out what he was lying on and why it felt like someone had beaten him with a stick. Every single muscle in his body was sore, even ones he didn’t realize he had. “What, uh…what happened?”
Hunk scooted out to the edge of the chair across from him, catching his attention. “You, um…had a seizure. It was super scary, man. I’d be really okay if that never happened again, but I mean of course I don’t like, blame you for it, I highly doubt you did it on purpose.”
“I wasn’t actually there for the seizure part, but seeing you passed out wasn’t exactly reassuring, either,” Lance piped in, appearing to perch on the arm of Hunk’s chair. “I just thought you were pale before, that was like, ghost quality.”
Keith was still trying to wrap his mind around the concept of having a seizure, but he was surprised to see them both there, especially Lance. “You should still be at the party, not worrying over me. I didn’t mean to interrupt everything.”
“You think I was gonna keep dancing with the ladies while my teammate was in here dying?” Lance scoffed, sounding offended. “The ladies will just have to do without me for a little while.”
“The ladies are probably all waiting to thank Keith for distracting you for a few minutes,” Pidge quipped drily. She draped herself over the back of the couch that Keith was apparently lying on. “And he’s not dying, anyway. He’s fine.” Her eyes cut over to Keith’s face, and he could see concern trying not to show itself. “Right?”
“Um. Yeah. I…think.” He started to push himself up, grimacing a little at the pull on his muscles, but Pidge placed the heel of her hand on his forehead and shoved him back down.
“Cool it, cowboy, you need to rest.”
“I’m fine, really. I don’t know what happened, but…I’m okay now.” He was pretty sure, anyway. He felt relatively normal, other than the soreness, but not knowing what had brought on the seizure and whether or not it would happen again was a bit concerning, to say the least. “It isn’t the first time I’ve had one, anyway. Happened once when I was a kid, too. And I was fine then,” he added quickly.
“Was there a lot of sensory input happening then, too?” Shiro crossed the room, tucking a datapad into his pocket. “Hunk said you were complaining about the lights and music.”
Keith thought back to the first incident, at a foster brother’s birthday party in an arcade. “Yeah. There was.” The foster parents had sent him away after that, claiming they were unprepared to deal with major medical issues. Never mind that it hadn’t happened again for almost a decade, and not until he was all the way in outer space.
Shiro nodded. “I was just talking to the Blade’s medic. Apparently it isn’t a common thing for Galra to experience, but he has seen it before in mixed species. The Galra sensory issues combined with…something that certain other races have, it was a bit over my head. But he’d like to run some tests next time he sees you, just to be sure.”
Keith groaned and shook his head. Just what he needed, more tests by the Blade trying to figure out how exactly his body worked. 
“I appreciate you guys, um…being there for me. Helping me out. Especially, um, you, Hunk. I hate that I caused a scene, though. You all should get back before you’re missed too much.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Hunk waved a hand dismissively. “Allura and Coran are still holding down the fort out there, though we should definitely let them know soon that you’re awake and okay. They were worried about you.”
“We’d all much rather be in here making sure you’re okay, Mullet.”
It never failed to surprise him, hearing the rest of the team express any kind of care and concern for him. A warm feeling invaded his chest and eased some of the tension in his body.
“And Keith? If this ever happens again, will you please let us know so we can help before your body freaks out?” Pidge poked him in the stomach to emphasize her words.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I can do that, I guess.” Part of him still wanted to protest about diplomacy and not angering aliens and such, but he knew he’d just get shut down. Instead he glanced around at the team and smiled a little. “Thanks.”
————————————————
Bingo requests are open, but only for my OCs at this time, and with no guarantee of how long it will take me to fulfill them!
78 notes · View notes
abhainnwhump · 10 months
Text
Been obsessing over the idea of a Whumper who wants to live out a stereotypical family fantasy so they kidnap a few Whumpees to do it.
One Whumpee is their spouse. Whumpee is beautiful and caught Whumper's eye. They had a promising future before, but now they're stuck in this housewife role and have to suck up to their captor. They feel worse because they already have someone they love.
Another Whumpee is the kid. Whumper chose this one because of their small size and/or cute features. They have a cute bedroom, childish clothes, and limited access to information so they don't get too smart. They're also drugged most of the time so enjoy naps.
The last Whumpee is the pet. This one gets treated the worst. They have to act like a dog 24/7 and play fetch with the kid. Bonus points if this Whumpee was super cocky before and are now treated like an animal.
Whumper is the head of the household and makes sure everyone else stays in line. They want their family to be perfect, but they aren't against violence. They'll torture the Whumpees until "they love them again".
The Whumpees all befriend each other and plan to escape. They have to be careful so Whumper doesn't catch them, but they can't stay here.
1K notes · View notes
whumperofworlds · 3 months
Text
Can I have uuuuuh the gals rescuing the guys?
Don't get me wrong, I love it when the gals need saving. But the guys need help from their gals too.
I wanna see a badass gal with noncombative guy (platonic or romantic!) I wanna see the gal save the guy from distress. I wanna see the gal kick ass, free the guy from his bonds, and carry him to safety like a knight in shining armor, but it's the knight who needs saving.
Let me see badass gals save the dudes. Please? 🥺
363 notes · View notes
marcobodtlives · 3 months
Text
Current mood is Jean napping on Armin and the horse cus he bonked his head during a super important fight
Tumblr media
He’s just having a lil nap, leave him be
206 notes · View notes
pharawee · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"The organs of an athlete whose body is still strong like you. You know what? The price is as good as those Alpha specials."
199 notes · View notes
hyrules-warrior · 1 year
Text
There needs to be more fics focusing on Joel’s PTSD and other issues after returning to Jackson.
I mean the guy has finally opened himself up after loosing his daughter. He was having panic attacks in episode 6, had full on dissociative episode with the events at the hospital. This guy has issues and finally being safe with Ellie in Jackson, those will start to come out as he relaxes for the first time in 20 years.
There are pancakes for breakfast at the canteen one morning. Joel gets in two bites before he goes white faced and barely makes it outside and between the buildings before he violently throws up everything he has ever eaten in his life and sits there hyperventilating and shaking until Ellie finds him and he comes back to himself. Sarah and him were supposed to have pancakes for his birthday breakfast that last day......before.......
Ellie has horrible nightmares, but so does Joel. Terrifying dreams of failure, of dying in that basement and leaving Ellie alone, of failing to make it to the surgeon in time to stop the surgery, of letting David......... He wakes up and has to stumble over to Ellie’s room to check on her just as much as she does for him after her dreams. Sometimes he is so shaken he has to wake her to make sure she is okay. But usually he just sees and hears her breathing and that is enough. He will settle in the window seat of her room with a gun and keep watch the rest of the night. Unknown or maybe just not acknowledged by both, Ellie herself sleeps the best the nights when he does this.
He has moments of high anxiety where he just has to lean against something for a few moments and breathe through it to settle his ringing ears and pounding heart. He isn’t even sure of the triggers most of the time, it seems to come out of nowhere. He also has sudden moments where he totally checks out but still functions. He is thrust back into survival mode and usually after has no idea why and barely remembers what happened during it. He closes right off, seems to stare at something far away instead of who is with him, his responses come out in his “asshole voice”, cold and distant. People just think he is grumpy, had a rough night or something but Ellie knows better. If she is there she works to keep people off of him and remove him from the situation in case that has triggered this shut down moment. When Ellie is with him her voice and touch grounds him, is the lifeline he tugs on to swim back to the present. It takes 10 times longer to drag himself back if she isn’t there.
His stab wound was major and the first aid done on it was understandably not the best. It never really heals right and remains sensitive. It pulls uncomfortably sometimes and aches horribly on cold winter days or when the pressure drops before a storm. And the phantom pains....... He wakes some nights from feverish dreams of the basement swearing he has just been stabbed all over again. The pain so fresh and sharp he thinks someone broke in and stabbed him there with a red hot fire poker. The first time it happens the wounded animal noises he lets out unbidden scare Ellie so bad she thinks he is dying and her extreme fear is what brings him back to the present. In the future he tries to hide it, dealing with his pain in silence (or attempted silence). Ellie still seems to know though and will silently come into his room and curl against his side allowing him to slowly settle. Or if the pain comes during the day she will push him into laying on the couch and get out the hot water bottle. Heat and seeing Ellie alive and well seems to soothe the pain, chase the winter away from his memory. 
Just like with Ellie’s trauma, these things begin to fade with time and attentive care from the one he needs most.
570 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
anyways, meet Kiv, Vic's clone in one of the sci-fi aus. He's got all the baggage that comes with the position:
- has literally never felt a kind touch
- is full of a need to control but doesn't have the memories that make exerting his own power satisfying so he lives in a constant state of frustration
- physically and functionally in his early thirties but only has two years of actual memories and experience (all negative)
- has no real rights because he's a clone
- kind of an asshole so he has no friends
82 notes · View notes
Note
can you write a snippet where hero beats villain for the first time, like completely whips their ass and destroys them but then it turns villain on. Yeah I got this idea from another of your snippets but I wanna read more >:)
“I feel like there’s a lot of unresolved hatred within you.” The hero stared at them, stared at the desk they’d destroyed with their bare hands.
“What makes you think that?” the hero asked. They were out of breath and seemed to be doing better now but if that was actually a positive thing remained to be decided. Even though this was an unusual situation, the villain had sworn to make the best of it.
As far as “the best” could go with a shock collar around their neck and lots of house arrest until the next trial.
“Your knuckles are bleeding,” the villain pointed out and they couldn’t quite look away from the broken table. It had been made out of heavy wood and if that wasn’t a metaphor for the hero’s sanity breaking, then the villain didn’t know what else would be.
“That happens sometimes,” the hero only huffed. They stared at their nemesis, thankfully not with that raw gaze anymore but nevertheless, the villain could only stare back. What even was this arrangement?
“Your happy ever after doesn’t seem so happy,” the villain said. “Shouldn’t all your problems disappear into thin air now?”
“They should.” The hero walked towards them. “Does it hurt?”
They were quick to touch the villain’s neck with their fingertips, pulling skin up until they could see the red and irritated parts beneath their collar. The hero pushed their thumb into the damaged skin and the villain couldn’t help but wince. Although they wanted to push the hero away, they couldn’t bring themselves to do so.
“Do you finally feel the weight of your actions? Do you finally know what consequences do?” the hero asked. Fucking hell, they were pissed. And the villain was fascinated by the anger that fuelled their enemy. The hero pulled their hand away and studied them for a second too long. They looked like they wanted to chop off the villain’s head.
Then, their fingers dug back into the villain’s throat gently.
“I have to deal with the mess you left the city with. Do you know how much work that requires?” they asked. “Do you know how much time I invest into this? Into taking care of you?”
“Interesting choice of words,” the villain said. They could only smile gently but that faded when out of a sudden, the hero’s hand came back down to the collar again.
“Do not even think for a second that you mean anything to me. I eat villains like you alive,” the hero said. They pulled on the collar and the pain around the villain’s neck was biting into them. It was sharp and merciless and it would leave the villain like this for a few more minutes.
“Fuck,” they cursed quietly but it didn’t help. It didn’t ease the pain and it didn’t change the villain’s feelings towards it.
“We may be stuck in this house together but you will not slip up under my command, got that? I’ve come too far to risk everything,” the hero explained. The palm of their hand found the villain’s cheek and almost tenderly, they stayed there, waiting for the villain’s protest.
But that never came.
Instead, the villain’s heart rate spiked and as they stared into the hero’s eyes, they found something true and vile. A darkness that had consumed both of them equally. It bound them together, made them one and even though the hero didn’t want this to be true, the villain feared they couldn’t deny this anymore.
“Did it make you happy when you arrested me?” the villain asked.
“Who wouldn’t be happy to catch someone as pretty as you?” the hero asked right back. They let go of the villain, looking as if they had to clear their head. And the villain was head over heels for their enemy’s growing frustration, for their violence and their tenderness, for their sweet and cruel words.
234 notes · View notes
the-three-whumpeteers · 7 months
Text
The whumpee expected their friends to come to their rescue as soon as they were captured- but that never happened. The whumpee would wait day after day, enduring agony and injuries that would be left untreated in the hopes that eventually, people would help them. They cling onto hope desperately, but a growing part of them keeps thinking about how long it’s been.
130 notes · View notes
aussiepineapple1st · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
63 notes · View notes
whumpfish · 7 months
Text
I know International Whump Day is Daniel Jackson's birthday, and that's fair. But I would like to propose a National Whump Day on September 15th in honor of absolute whump icon Jason Todd, the single most whumped character in DC canon, to commemorate the time they did this
Tumblr media
...resulting in the penultimate canonical Bad End Whump scene of all time.
Come on. It's the least this guy deserves.
97 notes · View notes
actress4him · 7 months
Text
Whumptober 2023 - Day 14 - Querencia
This is the next chapter of Querencia, following Whumptober Day 1!
Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps (thank you for beta reading!), @bookworm2107
Previous | Next | Masterlist
Tumblr media
No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” | Water Inhalation
Contains: dude whump, electrocution, water whump, Deaf whumpee, captivity, restraints, revenge, death mention, noncon drugging, needles, superpowers
.
.
Quinn jolts awake in an unfamiliar room, still half-expecting to be in charge of steering an out-of-control vehicle. Instead, he finds himself in what looks like a warehouse, but definitely not the one they converted into their home. This one is dingy and in sore need of a good cleaning. The events of the evening come back to him in flashes - the park, the drive home…the spike strips in the road and his inability to avoid them or prevent the crash afterward. 
This was planned, whatever it is. And now he’s alone, without his team, and he can only hope they’re all alright.
He doesn’t remain alone for long. The trio that enters the room looks vaguely familiar, but with his head still swirling from unconsciousness he can’t quite place them. Besides, his thoughts are more caught on the fact that none of them are wearing masks or anything else to conceal their identities. Kidnappers without masks generally don’t plan to allow their victims to leave alive.
“The great Electric Eagle himself,” the woman begins, strolling closer. “Right here in our grasp, isn’t it exciting, boys?”
The bigger man circles him where he sits. “Somehow he doesn’t seem quite as intimidating without the whole superhero getup.”
“That could also have to do with the handcuffs,” the second man laughs. 
“True!”
“Where is the rest of my team?” Quinn asks, careful to keep his expression and voice steady. They normally wouldn’t seem very intimidating, but they’ve already proven themselves rather capable of causing trouble. At the moment, though, any fear in him is for his team, not himself. 
“Oh, he’s British! Did you know he was British?” The woman puts a hand to her heart, looking at the other two. They shrug, unimpressed. “I do love me a British accent. But sorry to tell you, honey, it isn’t going to keep me from making you pay.”
“And…what, exactly, is it that I’m paying for?” He knows these three from somewhere, it’s driving him mad that he can’t place where.
“He doesn’t remember.” The bigger man crouches down and grabs a fistful of Quinn’s shirt, yanking him in close to his face. “What, we weren’t important enough for you to think about, once you’d ruined our lives and moved on with yours?”
“You got us arrested, that’s what. None of us even had records until you and your cutesy little team of superheroes came along and ruined it all. We lost all the money we’d gotten, lost our jobs, can’t get hired anywhere else, Greg’s wife left him…”
Oh. Now he remembers them. Criminals, of course, as he’d assumed, but more specifically a gang of three bank robbers that they’d worked together to stop. Which means that it shouldn’t be just him that they have a complaint against.
“Where…is…my team?”
The bigger man, Tommy Lewis, shoves him backwards so that he sprawls on the floor, hands trapped behind his back. “They’ll get their turns! But you’re the leader, so you get first go at paying up, how does that sound?”
He has no idea what they have in mind, but no doubt that it will be unpleasant. Maybe by the time they’re done with him, the others will have come up with some kind of escape plan and will be able to avoid having to go through whatever it is, themselves. If anyone is going to get hurt here, it should be him. 
Greg Sanders, the other man, comes closer, and Quinn’s eyes immediately go to a syringe in his hand. “What’s that, then?”
“Sheila may have lost her job at the lab, but she didn’t lose all of the formulas she was working on in her spare time.” He smirks, waving the syringe a bit. “You all will get to try out a couple of different specialties of hers while you’re here!”
He comes at him with the syringe, and Quinn kicks out with his restrained feet, trying to knock it from his hands. If it’s just something she’s been working on at home, there’s probably a limited supply. He doesn’t know what could possibly be in it, but being poisoned isn’t high on his list of fun activities for himself or his team. 
Greg dodges the kick, and before Quinn can try to roll further out of the way Tommy is on top of him, sitting on his legs and pinning his upper half to the floor. With his hands beneath him he can’t summon any lightning, and the man is too heavy to fight off without leverage. The needle sinks into his arm.
The three criminals step back and stare at him as he scrambles to at least sit upright. He takes it that something visible is supposed to happen, then. His heart is pounding in anticipation, waiting to start feeling excruciating pain or to grow an extra limb or whatever horrible, drastic thing they have planned. 
Then lightning crackles in his palm, without his permission. 
“Aha!” Sheila screeches. “It’s starting to work!”
Quinn swallows hard. If this is something that affects his powers, it could be much worse than he’d feared. As if in response to his thoughts, another bolt arcs from one hand to the other. The trio starts donning long rubber gloves.
“If my powers go out of control, you’re going to need a lot more than rubber gloves and soles to keep you safe.” He’s imagining the whole room filling with streaks of lightning, taking out the lights and the people and charring the walls and floor. 
Meanwhile, electricity snakes up to his wrist and hits the handcuffs, and for the first time since he was just learning to use his power, Quinn actually feels the effects of it himself. He jolts and grunts in utter surprise as it buzzes through his skin. There’s a reason why he and Nari have to be careful to keep their abilities separate. Metal and electricity do not mix well. 
Greg smirks. “We’re not really worried about it.”
Distracted by getting shocked, he doesn’t notice the hose in Sheila’s hand until a blast of cold water hits him in the chest. “Let’s speed this up a little bit, shall we?”
“This is a bad ide-” He gets a faceful of water before he can finish the sentence, leaving him sputtering. 
“Oh, I think it’s the best idea we’ve had in a while! This is going to be fun.”
He tries to scoot himself backwards, away from the persistent stream of icy water, but they just follow, laughing at him, soaking his whole front. They haven’t managed to get his hearing aids yet, thankfully, but he imagines at this point it’s only a matter of time. 
He’s trying to come up with some other way to dissuade them or a way out of this situation when his power activates again. This time it crawls all the way up his arm, hitting both metal and sopping wet fabric. From there it takes on a life of its own. Quinn’s body jerks backwards, his head slamming into the concrete block wall he’d moved up against, before uncontrollable shaking sends him to the floor. Everything burns like there’s fire inside his veins. He’s fairly certain he screams at some point, without meaning to. He knows for sure he bit his tongue, because his mouth is full of the bitter taste of blood when he can finally breathe and see straight again.
The trio is laughing at him some more. He can see that, though he can’t hear it, which means his hearing aids are fried. Fantastic. At least he doesn’t have to listen to their annoying voices anymore. 
Before he’s fully caught his breath, it’s happening again. And again. And again. It seems to be getting worse the longer the drug is in his system, and of course the more they soak him down with the hose. Sometimes he screams, sometimes it gets trapped somewhere inside and feels like it’s ripping through his throat. He doesn’t bother trying to pick himself up after each round. He’s too exhausted, and everything hurts. 
After a while, they must get bored with that method, because Tommy comes over and yanks him up off the ground with gloved hands. He’s saying something… “new game,” Quinn’s pretty sure is in there somewhere, but his lips are a bit of a blur. 
He can’t walk, not with his ankles chained together, so he gets dragged across the room and deposited on his knees…in front of a bucket full of water. He can already see where this is going without needing to hear whatever taunting they’re doing. 
Sure enough, a hand grabs onto his curls and shoves his head down into the water. Instinctively, he pushes against it, struggling to get up while holding onto what air he was able to gulp in. 
He can’t let them kill him. The team needs him, he has to help them get out of here. They can’t go through this. Just the thought of it makes him sick to his stomach. 
His head feels like it’s going to explode. A burst of bubbles escape his lips, relieving a little of the pressure, but now his lungs are aching instead. He needs to breathe, he needs to breathe…
He’s jerked up out of the water by his hair. Rivulets run down his face, over his eyes and into his open mouth as he gasps loudly for precious air. Greg and Sheila are across from him, big grins on their faces. 
One last gasp - not nearly enough - and he’s back down again. This time, though, his power comes to life, shooting up through his body with a force that makes his back arch. His lungs spasm involuntarily, and then he’s choking, coughing, taking in more water, until mercifully the bucket tips over with his erratic movements and he hits the floor, water spilling across him as he continues to shake and cough. 
He can see open air but he can’t breathe. Water rattles in his throat and chest. The lightning stops, but he still kicks and squirms, trying desperately to draw something in or expel something out, anything. 
Someone flips him over onto his side and kicks him hard in the back, and he’s finally able to spew out the last of the water, coughing until his ribs ache and his throat is on fire. 
He’s not even aware of anyone that’s around him until another needle pricks his arm. No, please, no more… They’re talking amongst themselves or maybe even to him, but he doesn’t know what their plans are anymore. If his power goes even more haywire, though, he’s not going to survive it. They’re going to kill him. 
Minutes pass, though, and the only lightning that happens is small, more like the first few times. Enough to make him jolt, but not writhe. It seems to be calming down, much to his immense relief. 
His ankles are released and someone pulls him to his feet. His legs feel leaden, but he stumbles along beside them as they lead him out the door and down a hall, eventually unlocking another door and shoving him inside. 
Immediately he drops to sit on the ground, no strength left. It’s only then that he sees Liliana sitting there, staring at him wide-eyed and fearful. He forces himself to turn, and there are the others, too. Safe.
Everyone’s lips are moving, probably asking a million questions, but he’s too tired to try and comprehend. He just shakes his head. “Aids got fried.” He hates talking out loud when he doesn’t have them in, but signing isn’t exactly an option when his hands are still cuffed and Liliana still doesn’t know much sign, anyway.
Nari’s face is etched with concern, her eyes darting to his ears, then across his soaking wet body once more. “What did they do to you?” Her mouth moves, but she also signs it as best she can with one wrist cuffed to the wall. “We were so worried!”
Quinn’s eyes drift shut, and he shakes his head again. “I don’t…want to talk about it. Not yet.” He'll have to, eventually. He has to prepare them for what they might face. 
They have to figure out a way out of here before that happens. 
14 notes · View notes
caughtonwebcam · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
“Alastor altruist died for his friends”
47 notes · View notes
lili-loves-whump · 9 months
Text
lili-loves-whump presents:
Faded
written listening to Faded
Hero watched intensely as Villain scoured the rubble.
They scooped crumbly rocks away from their cape, tugging at the fabric harshly. It came away with a swift rip, and they scrambled to their feet.
Hero stepped back, half-hidden by alleyway shadows.
Villain continued to scramble, clawing at the dust. Even Hero, from their precarious hiding spot, could see the pink rawness of their hands. The criminal was dripping blood, and paused to wipe their mouth before rushing to another section to paw through.
"Where are you?" They squealed, tossing a rock to the side. The little nub on their pinky caught on the jagged edge as they tossed it, and Villain hissed, pulling their right hand into their chest and kicking at the dirt. "Please don't go," They said slowly.
Hero couldn't see their face. Villain had hunched away from their spot, back to the alleyway they were hiding in.
Hero slowly stepped out from their spot. They walked carefully, trying not to disturb the half-collapsed remains of the building they were in. They heard sobbing, and turned their head slowly to see Villain crouching on the ground.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," they whispered to themselves. They were clutching their hand, slick with blood, tears in the edges of their eyes.
"Why are you crying?"
Villain jumped to their feet. "HOLY SHIT, HERO!!" they screamed, "YOU'RE NOT DEAD!!"
Hero chuckled. "No," they replied, eyeing Villain's dripping hand, "I got out before it crumbled. What were you doing?"
Villain shuffled their weight haphazardly. "I was, uhhh, looking for you." they mumbled.
Hero smirked, and reached out. "Let's get you cleaned up."
126 notes · View notes
hood-ex · 1 year
Text
Dick got his legs burned by acid!! And nearly!! Bled out!! Let's go!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Batman/Superman: World's Finest #15
194 notes · View notes
clickerflight · 6 months
Text
Y’all want to watch something super whumpy?
youtube
I list my mind a little
73 notes · View notes