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jasmines-library · 6 months

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Catch me If I fall

WHUMPTOBER DAY 12: prompt: self harm

Fandom: Batfam

Summary: after the death of Jason, you can’t help but feel guilty, so you resort to some unhealthy coping methods.

Warnings: SELF HARM, blood, character death, depressive thoughts.

Word count: 1.3k

Note: this one is extremely sensitive and contains many trigger warnings, please read at your own discretion.

Remember, If you are ever struggling, please don’t be ashamed to reach out. My DMs are always open, or you can seek one of many helplines. Please remember, you are not alone and there are people who will help you navigate your thoughts and feelings. You are strong, you are loved, you are perfect.

M ASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

He was gone.

Jason Todd was gone. Dead. Killed in an explosion that would forever be burned into the front of your brain. The sound replayed itself over and over again in your mind; the shattering of the glass and the groaning of the metal frames as they collapsed in on eachother, the deafening booming of the explosive and the scuffing of your feet on the concrete as you stopped dead in your tracks, too far away to help and too late to reach him in time.

At first, the tears refused to fall from your cheeks as you surged forwards racing towards where the warehouse once stood. You arrived at the wreckage at the same time as the Bat. When he pulled Jason’s body from the wreckage, limp with eyes devoid of life, the tears still refused to fall. You just watched blankly as he held his son, trying not to focus on the mangled, blood covered flesh that covered every inch of his skin. Even in death Jason looked pained, his face permanently contorted into an unseeing gaze of pain.

Returning back to the manor and breaking the news to Dick was even harder. You watched as he flung the nearest thing across the room and let it shatter on the floor. You picked the skin around your fingers as he sunk down onto the floor and broke down, tears cascading down his face. Fat and hot like heavy droplets of rain falling from the sky. But still, your own stubbornly refused to fall.

It was only hours later when you had locked yourself away in your room that you let out a shrill cry of anguish, falling to the floor. Heavy sobs wracked your body as you trembled digging your nails into palms and biting down harshly on the inside of your cheeks, You blinked away your tears the fell freely, squeezing them from your eyes as you squeezed them tight, trying to shut out the constant memory of Jason Todd.

It was then that the thoughts came flooding to you. Obnoxious, penetrating thoughts that hit you like a ton of bricks. You should have gotten there quicker. If you had just stuck with Jason or forced him to keep his comms on then. It was your fault that he had gone off on his own. It was your fault that Jason Todd was dead.

Your suit was damp with tears and clung too close to your body. You felt suffocated. As you began to push off your boots, your bowie knife that you usually kept tucked away for emergencies clattered to the ground, You froze. It was the one that you had been given when you began your vigilante training with Bruce all those years ago. You picked it up, flipping the leather-bound hand between your palms and admiring the way that the metal glinted as it caught the light.

Some sane part of your body screamed at you not to do it. That it was wrong, that your family would be disappointed if they found out. But the other overpowering side still echoed with those thoughts. You couldn’t help but sink deeper into the guilt. And so you brought the knife down to your flesh, barely recognising the pain as the red ribbons formed on your skin.

That feeling of guilt never went away. It still sat there like a heavy weight even after Jason returned 6 months later. Although Jay was back, he was changed. Haunted by his own memories, he struggled to re-adjust to his life especially after the memories of his brutal murder flooded back to him. It took him a while to come to terms with his safety. It was only once the two of you had spent many nights clinging on to each other and giving reassurances that he finally allowed himself to relax slightly.

But the boy’s return didn’t just affect him. The sudden shift had troubled all of you, flipping your lives which you had slowly managed to learn to navigate without him upside down.

You began to retreat into your room again, spending more time alone. You slunk around the manor, avoiding the others when possible. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by Dick who often lingered by your door, but was too afraid to knock or barge his way in. Opting to give you space. The space never helped though. It just became a void of guilt and constant reminders of your sluggishness. Although the image of Jason’s frail body never quite left your mind, his return brought it back stronger. It began to plague your nightmares again, causing you to wake up in a cold sweat. It caused the silence to morph into muffled cries and with that came the return of old habits.

Trailing your finger over the lines of scar tissue, your body felt numb. Silent, you left yourself with the stickiness of hot tears trailing down your face; each one a reminder of your failures. Of the times that you weren’t perfect enough to save everybody. The knife ran sharply across your skin, allowing the blood to bead as it trailed. The stinging allowed a sense of relief for a while. That was until it didn’t. After that, you turned to pressing deeper into your complexion, allowing the blood to dribble from your arm.

Dick lingered in front of your door once again. He hadn’t seen you all day and had begun to grow worried. Deep creases lined his brow as he stood, shut out from you by the painted wood. He knew you hadn’t been in the best of places since his little brother had been ripped so cruelly from the world. Dick hated watching you retreat. He loathed that sad look and far away gaze that settled on your face when he thought no one was looking. His hand was hovering as he prepared to knock when he noticed his younger brother waltz around the corner. Jason slowed furrowing his brows.

“What are you doing?” He quizzed. Though not oblivious to your struggle, he didn’t believe in getting involved in someone else’s business. Especially when he was still trying to short his own shit out.

Dick only said one word which sent the two men into a preganant silence. “Listen.”

Your sobs and outbursts of frustration could be heard from the other side of the door frame. The younger of the two recoiled at the noise. Dicks hand moved towards the door handle after knocking and being blanked.

The door shuddered open and Dick poked his head around the corner. He froze, heart dropping to his feet when he took you in.

Your knees were pulled tightly to your chest, where your head rested grimly. Your wrists were a bloody mess like the knife which lay a few feet away from you. You half-nursed them carefully, as though you knew something about them was off, but you couldn’t get yourself to care enough about it.

“Oh god…”

He took cautious, but long strides steps to get to you before taking your arms in his, not caring abou there stickiness that coated his clothes and spilled down his fingers. There was so much of it he was surprised it still fell from your body.

You tried not to acknowledge him in away, but once your lifted your head and spotted his face, the tears began again. Dick pulled you into a height embrace as the tears began to fall again

“I-I’m sorry.” You stumbled, “I..”

“Shh.” Dick coaxed, pulling you into his arms: “nothing is your fault.”

“But I- Jason. I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Oh little bat…” Jason squatted down by his brother. “There’s nothing you could have done about that.”

“Yes there is. I could have convinced you to-“

“Stop it.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmured. “I’m sorry but they won’t leave. Make them leave please.

“We will baby bat. We will.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 11 ⛤ DAY 13 ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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omgiamwish · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022 Day 12 - Cave In

(Relying on your portal guy to get you out of shit is great right up until your portal guy gets knocked unconscious)

#whumptober2022 #no.12 #cave in #rottmnt #art #injury #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #leonardo #michelangelo #raphael #fan art #artists on tumblr

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aprocessionofthoughts · 6 months

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Investigations are attempted

whumptober2023 day 12- red fandom- Danny phantom x batman TW- none summary- Bruce and his kids continue to look into Daniel Nightingale.

ao3 whumptober23 materlist Part 4 of ITR

Bruce stared at the file again.

Name: Daniel Nightingale Family: Unknown Previous employment: Nasty Burger cashier Magical ability: can sense spirits and magical artifacts, can see some mid-level spirits

He frowned. He’d already tried looking up Nasty Burger but no results had come up. He’d tried looking more into Daniel but everything seemed to be in place. Everything was almost too perfect.

It felt like a cover up, like a fake identity. But it was done so well, he was having trouble finding anything else. He’d already had Tim and Barbara try, but Tim didn’t get much further, only discovering that Daniel was his real name but Nightingale had been what was changed. Barbara had agreed and added that she recognized the signature of the hacker who had done the job, but that she had no idea who the hacker was except that they were on her level of talent.

Bruce closed that file and pulled up his search for Manson.

He turned aside to take a drink of his coffee, and when he turned back there was a message displayed on the Batcomputer.

Bruce stared at it before reaching up to his comm. “Oracle.”

“What’s up, B?” he could hear the clicking of keys in the background.

“I need you to run a check on the Batcomputer.”

“I’m kind of busy at the moment, is this something that can wait?”

“I think we may have found the Manson we’re looking for.”

“Okay?”

“But I only know because the name started blinking across the screen.”

Oracle was silent for a moment before he heard her curse, then the clicking of keys continued at a much more frantic pace.

Bruce waited, the message had disappeared already and so he started looking up Samantha Manson. From what he found she reminded him of Ivy, and he could only hope she wasn’t some kind of villain as well. Manson was an avid protester against meat farms and deforestation along with several other environmental issues. She was also heir to the Manson company and fortune. When he looked into her background he found that she came from Amity Park, Illinois. But when Bruce looked the town up, he came up blank. He wanted to bang his head agaisnt his desk in frustration.

“B.”

“What did you find?”

“I don’t know where exactly the message originated from, but it has the same signature as whoever made Nightingale’s files.”

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement and frustration.

“I’ll keep looking but I've never been able to find this hacker before and I’m not sure I’ll be able to unless they let me.”

“Keep me updated.”

Bruce could practically feel her eye roll as she answered. “Of course, B.”

Bruce really hoped Samanthat Manson was the one they were looking for. But why would the hacker tell them? Regardless, it was worth looking into. It had been a month since Daniel had been taken and if this went on too long, Bruce wasn’t sure if Daniel would still be alive.

He looked up Manson’s whereabouts and his suspicions increased when he found that she had arrived in Gotham the day before.

He spoke over the comms again, “I need a volunteer to go with me to investigate Manson.”

“You finally found them? Who are they?” said Nightwing.

“Took you long enough, old man.”

“Did you or Oracle find them?” Tim asked.

“Neither. Someone hacked the Batcomputer to send the message.”

There was silence on the comms for less than a second before a flurry of overlapping voices made Bruce wince.

“Quiet.” Thankfully they listened and Bruce was able to continue. “Oracle is looking into it, but I want one of you with me to approach Manson.”

“I need to wrap a case up in Bludhaven.”

“I’m busy.” Jason said.

“I’ll go.” Robin responded.

“Not you, Robin. Agent A informs me you have a project to work on.”

“But, Father–”

“Do you want to take it up with Agent A?”

Damien grumbled but didn’t say anything else.

“Red Robin?”

Tim sighed, “I guess I can go. Whoever this Manson is probably knows our hacker, and I’d really like to meet the person who can hack the Batcomputer. Who is it?”

“Samantha Manson.”

Tim spluttered. “What! Sam Manson, heir to the toothpick company!”

“You know her?”

“Do I know her? She’s the only reason I volunteer for the annual Baymont’s Gala, you know, the owners of that meat packaging plant. Her family always attends, and she always does something to make the gala more interesting. Last year she somehow put laxative in all the champagne. It was hilarious!”

He could hear Dick cackling over the comms.

“That’s ridiculous. Surely something like that would be in the news?” Damien said.

“I don’t think she’s ever been caught.”

“Then how do you know it was her?” Jason asked.

We’ve been going to that gala for years and she’s always very vocal about her opinions of the Baymonts and their company. And once I saw her slip a fake mouse into Avery Bellmonts dress.”

“I think I heard about that incident.” Dick said. “If she turns out to be good, we should invite her to the next Wayne gala; they are always so boring. No offense, B.”

“I agree, except full offense. And no names in the comms, Dickwing.” Jason said.

“Hypocrite.”

“It’s not my fault you–”

“Boys.” There was silence and Bruce sighed. “Red Robin, I’m sending you the address of her hotel. Meet me there in an hour.”

“Will do, B.”

Bruce silenced his comm and got up to get changed into the Batsuit. If Samantha was anything like Tim said, he was in for a long night.

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober #no.12 #red #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #barbara gordon #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp #dp x dc fanfic

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onceuponastory · 6 months

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an unexpected meeting - bucky barnes x reader

But I'm so fucking lonely, no one really knows me You are still a heart I hope to hold - weekends by freya ridings Plot: Two years after breaking up with his girlfriend, Bucky unexpectedly bumps into her again. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (previously) Warnings: Mentions of a breakup and heartbreak, Bucky isolating himself and blaming himself after what happened with HYDRA/The Winter Soldier, and with the breakup. He also self sabotages himself a lot in this. A few tiny mentions of nightmares, blood and violence but nothing too graphic. And of course, some angst. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This is for @angstober Day 12: "On Our Own." Please ignore that I'm one day late. Sue me. I love this song so much, so I had to write this based on it.

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

Making his way down the street, Bucky shivers, wrapping his coat tightly around himself as another bitterly cold wind blows against his face. The temptation to just go home and forget today is too real. But deep down, he knows he has to do this. Bucky has been reclusive for the last two years, shutting himself up in his apartment and only going out for missions and essentials. His friends tried to convince him to come out, whether for coffee or something stronger, but Bucky still rarely left the safe space of his New York apartment. He prefers to be alone. It’s better to be alone.

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he sat alone in his apartment night after night, hearing the noise of the hustle and bustle outside, as he scrolled through his friends’ countless pictures together, seeing how happy they were together, without him…. And as he tried desperately to ignore how isolated he felt.

That was Bucky’s life until a few weeks ago, when Steve and Sam stepped in and insisted that getting out in the fresh air would do him the world of good. Bucky wasn’t so sure about their promises, but since the alternative was his two best friends dragging him outside themselves, going outside on his own terms sounded much more appealing. And walking to the store to buy some things is small, it’s manageable. It’s not like a mission or something more serious.

And although he’d rather die than admit it to them… he was getting fed up with being stuck inside his apartment all the time, staring at the same four walls day in and day out. Steve and Sam just gave him the push he needed.

That and he’s dangerously close to running out of coffee. Priorities.

He soon reaches the store, grabbing a basket and heading inside. The sooner he leaves, the better. He wanders around aimlessly, looking down at the various fruits and vegetables on offer. No doubt Steve and Sam would tell him he needs to eat more of those. He grabs some apples and plums, tossing them into the basket with little thought.

And then, he sees her, standing alone by the grapes. He’s shocked to see her here, of all places. In fact, most times he’s seen Y/N, she’s been a hallucination, gone in the blink of an eye when Bucky tried to get too close. But no matter how much he blinks, and how long he keeps his eyes closed, Y/N is still there. And she looks just as beautiful as she always does. Bucky’s heart begins to beat quicker, and his stomach churns in a weird mixture of excitement and fear.

He hasn’t seen her since they broke up, and when Bucky decided he was better off alone. Not because of anything Y/N did, though. God no, it was never Y/N’s fault. She’s the most beautiful, loving woman in the world, with a smile that puts the sun to shame. And that’s exactly why he broke up with her.

After everything he’s been through with HYDRA and his work as an Avenger, Bucky's life is an intense and dangerous one. When they were still together, Y/N insisted she was fine with him being away for months and didn’t mind staying up beside the phone all night, anxiously awaiting to hear if he was still alive. But Bucky knew she was lying. Love or not, nobody wants to deal with that from their partner, to say goodbye and wonder if they'd ever come home again. Not just that, Bucky knows he’s a lot to deal with. With his troubled past, he has many... issues, to put it mildly. Issues he doesn’t want to drag Y/N into, ever. With all the innocent blood he’s spilled, Bucky knows he doesn’t deserve anything good.

Especially not Y/N. All Bucky ever wanted was to protect her from certain heartbreak. So, he walked away, promising her it was the best thing for her. And he’s regretted the break up ever since. That’s why he’s locked himself away for so long - he couldn’t bear the thought of life without her, of going to places they loved without her, knowing that a piece of himself is missing, yet being unable to get it back no matter how hard he tried. But most of all, he couldn’t live knowing that it’s his fault everything fell apart.

And now, here she is. Right beside him at the store. Just the two of them.

“Y/N.” His voice is soft, almost as if he doesn’t believe that she’s actually there this time, and no longer a figment of his imagination. His words are nothing more than a whisper in the wind. And yet, despite how interested she’s pretending to be in this fruit, how long it’s been since she’s heard his voice, and how quiet it is, Y/N still hears it. It’s almost as if his words brush against her cheek, just like the way his lips did the last time he kissed her. When she cried and begged him to stay, insisting that whatever it was, they could just work it out if he would just please listen. And Bucky just shook his head, kissing her softly and promising that this was for the best. He still remembers the warmth of her skin as his lips brushed against hers, and the feeling of her tears rolling down her cheeks as she continued to ask him to stay. Although Bucky knows his tears were mixed with hers, too. That day, he savoured every moment he could, knowing it would be the last time he would ever see her.

But like he said, he looked for her, though, being disappointed every time. But this time, it’s real.

Y/N turns to him, locking eyes with him once more. The last time she did that was when he walked out, their relationship destroyed beyond repair. Because of him. And once again, Bucky reminds himself that it’s all his fault. “Bucky. Hi.” She smiles. Her smile looks different, and doesn’t reach her eyes like the usual warm ones that he’s used to. Back when things were great between them. Clearly, the breakup has affected her too.

“Of course it did, you idiot. She loved you.” Deep in Bucky’s gut, that familiar feeling of guilt twinges again. The same one he feels whenever he remembers just what he did to all those poor souls. Y/N never judged him for that, though. She sat with him every night, holding him as he screamed and thrashed around. Running her fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings whilst she peppered kisses across his body, knowing it calmed him down.

He never deserved her. That’s why he let her go.

But it feels so wrong now. The bitter taste of regret seeps through him.

“How are you?” She asks. It’s a polite response, thankfully… but it’s curt. Before, she used to ask him to tell him every aspect about his day, anything he could share about his missions. Just something more than this. And as he spoke about everything and nothing, she’d hang onto his every word. Now, though, she looks like she couldn’t care less.

And despite this raw, aching feeling in his chest, Bucky knows he deserves it. He can't destroy their relationship and then reappear to mend the pieces after two years.

“Good. Good.” He lies. “So, um… what are you up to?” He asks, regretting his words the moment they leave his mouth.

“Getting groceries.” Y/N replies, another curt response. “Like you evidently.” She gestures to his basket.

“Oh. Right.” Because of course she is. Why else would she be here? And then, an uncomfortable silence descends, enveloping the two of them so deeply they could drown in it. But Bucky’s been drowning in the consequences of his actions for a long time.

This time, though, he’s been spat back out… and what a hellish form of karma this is.

“Was I not enough for you?” She asks, bluntly. The question takes him aback. He wasn’t expecting this question, of all things. …But she deserves the truth, and to ask him whatever she wants after it ended the way it did.

“Of course you were enough, Y/N. I promise you that.” She was more than enough, more than he could ever deserve, especially after the things he’s done. In fact, that’s probably why he ruined their relationship. Because whilst Y/N nurtures and supports everything she touches, Bucky destroys them. And he refused to let Y/N be the next thing he destroyed. But with the way she looks at him now, Bucky knows he’s destroyed her too. And that realisation hurts more than anything he’s ever done.

“You had a funny way of showing it then.” She hisses, loud enough for him to hear. Another strike of guilt. Guilt that he deserves, of course.

“Y/N.” He sighs. “I’m so sorry. Please, just-“

“Hey! There you are!” A man’s voice sounds, cutting through Bucky’s explanation. The man walks up to Y/N, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her temple. Immediately, the icy sting of jealousy wraps itself around Bucky, and his eyes narrow. Who the hell is this guy? He better take good care of Y/N, and treat her like the Queen she is, like Bucky did. Or else… there’ll be trouble.

“Did you, though?” A little voice in the back of his head pipes up. “Because…I don’t think you ever did. At least, not at the end.” The words hit Bucky like being doused in ice cold water. His lungs constrict, and tears sting in his waterline.

Although he still loves Y/N, so much so that he wants to shout it from the rooftops, deep down he knows that the voice is right. After what he did… he has no right to feel so protective of her. He has no hold over her heart anymore.

And besides, maybe Y/N should’ve been protected from him instead.

“Who’s this?” The man asks, looking at Bucky curiously.

“Um.” Y/N murmurs. A small glimmer of hope lightens deep in Bucky’s gut then. Maybe there’s a slight chance for redemption here, to make things right. Maybe, just maybe, she would say something nice about him, proving her feelings towards him have changed, if even only a little. And perhaps she still feels the same love for him as he does for her. Maybe, somewhere down the line, they can make things right again. “He’s just someone I know.”

And that makes the flicker of hope inside of him fizzle out into nothing.

“I’m Bucky. Nice to meet you.” Bucky nods, trying with all his might to not collapse in the middle of the aisle.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chris.” The man smiles. Bucky stares at him, looking for something, anything, that seems off about Chris. Maybe he’s gripping her arm just too tightly, or shooting her dirty looks when he thinks Bucky isn’t watching. But there’s nothing. Chris seems perfect. He’s the perfect boyfriend Y/N deserves, and the one Bucky failed spectacularly at being.

As Chris makes polite conversation, Bucky nods, glancing around for an exit strategy. Usually, he does that to ensure the safety of his team, and protect them against whichever monster or villain they’re dealing with.

Now though, he’s doing it so his ex-girlfriend, who he definitely isn’t over and her new boyfriend don’t see him start sobbing in the middle of the fruit and vegetable section.

“Well, I better get going.” Bucky quickly announces. “It was nice seeing you Y/N.”

“Yeah… you too.” She murmurs. Bucky quickly turns and walks away, abandoning his basket somewhere in the store.

As soon as he’s outside, a few loose tears escape, running down his cheeks despite Bucky's best efforts not to break in public. It feels like his heart is being ripped apart all over again, just like it did when he broke up with Y/N. But this time, though, it hurts even more, like millions of stab wounds to the heart over and over again.

Thankfully, he makes it home quickly, slamming the door behind him. He barely makes it a few steps before collapsing on the floor, his body wracked with sobs. If he could turn the clock back and fix this, if he could reverse his actions, he would.

But he can’t. He made his choice, and now he has to live with it.

Despite how much it hurts. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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aceofwhump · 6 months

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Day 12: Red

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

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losthavenmine · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023 Day 12 || Red

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whumpsday · 6 months

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K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #12

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, broken bones, begging, burns, torture, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumpers

@whumptober Day 12: Red / “I’m up, I’m up!”

Kane’s breaths came ragged and worn, his arms trembling as he tried to push himself back to his feet. His legs were both broken by now, red pooling beneath him.

The blood-slick floor only made it that much harder. What with his trembling, his body screaming at him to rest as if that was a viable option, the heel of his hand slipped and he came crashing down to the concrete once again.

“Oh?” the hunter on his left piped up, interest piqued. “That all you got in you? Come on, aren’t you supposed to be some fearsome thing? You’re a vampire!”

“No!” Kane cried, terror seizing his heart. “I just– I just need a minute! A minute, that’s all, sir! Please!”

“Go ahead.” The hunter waved him on graciously, and Kane reignited his efforts to stand. If he could just get himself leaning upright against the wall, if that could be good enough–

His partner took a drag from his cigarette, a human invention Kane had come to despise since learning of it. He had no doubt that it would kiss his skin when the hunter had finished it, though at least the burn would be mild compared to silver. Hardly the least of his worries.

“It’s done,” this one argued, gesturing at Kane’s pathetic form as he desperately pushed through the pain that coursed through his whole body, chest heaving. “C’mon. You owe me ten.”

“Give it a minute! Jeez!” The first hunter crouched down, level with Kane, still struggling to lift himself off the floor. “What’d I say? You wanna go out there, vampy?”

Kane sobbed, managing a shaky nod. “No, sir,” he forced out, “I’m trying, I’m trying, please, it hurts!”

“No one gives a fuck. Get up.” The hunter stood back to full height effortlessly.

“I’m giving it five minutes,” his partner announced.

Five minutes or he’s forced outside to burn. It was a low-stakes bet to the humans, but everything to him. He tried again and again, making no attempt to hold back his cries of pain.

His legs wailed in protest as he forced them up, bent at awkward angles as he tried to balance himself against the wall. Blood painted it as he clawed at the rough surface, but it wasn’t rough enough for him to hold himself up, and his legs just couldn’t support him in their state.

“Two.”

Kane choked on horror, his time dwindling. He couldn’t go out there, he’d do anything to avoid the sun, anything–

He dragged himself, his starved body just light enough for his weakened arms to pull along until he reached the bars. Something he could grab, something he could pull.

Kane grit his teeth and grabbed the bars, the silver instantly searing into the sensitive flesh of his palms and the undersides of his fingers. He shrieked, pulling his hands back with a fitful sob.

“Clock’s ticking!” the hunter betting on him shouted.

Three quick breaths, as deep as he could make them. One, two, three.

He grabbed the bars again, the familiar smell of burning flesh returning as he attempted to hoist himself up. He couldn’t get himself quite standing, his hands weeping out and his legs only becoming more deformed by the second as he tried to force them into functioning, but he was close. He could be called ‘upright’, given a generous-enough interpretation.

“I’m up, I’m up!” he cried, tears blurring his vision as the skin on his hands turned angry and red to match the useless blood covering the floor.

“Is it, though?” the hunter with the cigarette asked.

“Please!” Kane sobbed. He couldn’t do better than this, he couldn’t. He just needed to stay out of the sun.

“It totally counts!” the other hunter agreed, and for a man who had smashed his legs to smithereens minutes earlier, Kane had never felt more grateful to him.

“Fine, fine. You win.”

Kane released the bars, torched hands falling on top of the rest of his broken body as he collapsed to the floor. It seemed as though every part of him ached with agony, but he knew exactly how much worse it could get.

He didn’t even flinch at the cigarette pressed to the side of his neck.

#whumptober2023 #no.12 #red #i'm up i'm up #oc #fic #torture #burns #cigarettes #broken bones #kanes whumptober bites #kane and jim drabbles #whump #my writing #begging #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #multiple whumpers #sadistic whumper

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whumpetywhump · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 12 (Alt) - Broken

Adamas - Ep. 14

Bulgasal: Immortal Souls - Ep. 6

Pipeline (2021)

Stranger 2 - Ep. 11

White Christmas - Ep. 7

#whumptober 2023 #no.12 #broken #adamas #bulgasal immortal souls #pipeline #stranger 2 #white christmas #broken bones #tw gore #whump #asian whump #kwhump #gifs

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gierosajie-art · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023 Prompt List | No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?” | Red | Insomnia

It's been like this, night after night.

#whumptober2023 #no.12 #red #insomnia #fullmetal alchemist #art #fanart #the art drawer

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celtic-crossbow · 6 months

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Whumptober 2023

No. 12 Insomnia | No. 29 Panic | No. 31 “Take it easy.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Hallucinations

“Can’ sleep again?” Daryl drawled, voice rougher than usual with sleep. He lifted his head from the pillow when he felt the mattress dip with your weight. You shook your head, not meeting his eyes. “S’been days, Y/N. Yer startin’ ta look like a walker.”

“You say the nicest things, Dixon.” You got up and stumbled over to the railing of his perch, looking out over the darkness of the cell block. Your body ached. Your head was fuzzy. You felt nauseous and short tempered. But sleep wouldn’t come. No matter how hard you tried. You could only see the faces of the ones you’d lost. Amy. Jim. Dale. Andrea. Shane. Lori. T-Dog. ‘I couldn’t save any of them.’

“Ya can’ keep holdin’ on ta all tha’.”

You quickly looked at him over your shoulder. ‘Was I talking out loud?’

“Yeah, ya were.”

“Shit.” You scrubbed a hand roughly over your face. You really were losing it. Daryl was sitting up now, his knees bent under the thin blanket with his forearms lying over them. He looked genuinely concerned. “I don’t wanna be in this world anymore.” You admitted quietly. “I’m scared to be awake. I’m scared to sleep.” Your lip began to tremble, your body too depleted to fight off the sting of tears threatening to fall. “I’m so tired.”

The archer observed you quietly, his expression unreadable. You weren’t sure why you came to him. You weren’t even sure where things stood with him. There had been gentle touches and whispered words, even a few kisses shared in secret, but most days, he just remained impassive and gruff.

“I should let you get some sleep. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Your feet carried you quickly down the stairs, stumbling over the last step in your haste.

The shower area was dark but the small windows let in just enough moonlight for you to at least see where you were going. Maybe you could just hide away there until morning. Your cell was too small, the terror and memories smothering you. The rest of the prison was inhabited by your small group and a few strangers. People you’d rather not give any reason to worry about you or your usefulness. You had already allowed Daryl to see too much.

“He doesn’t feel that way about you, you know.”

You spun around toward the voice to find the space behind you empty. You could have sworn—

“He doesn’t feel that way about anyone. Daryl is selfish.”

“Lori?” You whispered, spinning around again. And again you were met with no one.

“You’re just a silly little girl. You’re not helping anyone. You never have, never could.”

“Dale?” You whimpered, the name barely leaving your lips before you heard Andrea just by your ear.

“At least I was useful! You’re just a burden! They’ll be better off without you!”

“I’m trying! I just—”

“Try harder! Hell, you really wanna help, just go out past the fence and let the walkers take care of you.”

“One less mouth to feed, one less burden.”

“Shane, T… I’m doing my—”

“Your best?” You heard Lori laugh mockingly as your back met the cold tile of one of the shower stalls, sliding down until you were on the floor. “Your best is pathetic.”

“Pathetic!”

Your hands flew to your ears, the word echoing in a flurry of voices and laughter. Your sobs grew louder, your eyes squeezed shut, and your back met the wall over and over as you rocked on the floor to try and get control over yourself. When you felt their hands on your arms, you screamed and flailed. They were gonna to take you to the walkers. They were going to laugh as you were ripped apart.

“Hey, hey, hey. Easy.”

The voices stopped suddenly and you pulled away, flattening yourself against the wall. Your eyes opened to find the space in front of you empty save for a concerned pair of electric blue eyes, the moonlight making them almost gray.

“Take it easy.” Daryl’s tone was soft, his hold on your forearms was firm yet gentle in the most confusing way.

“Daryl?” Your voice came out as nothing more than a small squeak being forced past the lump in your throat.

“S’jus’ me.” When you threw yourself into his arms, he made no move to pull away. He simply remained crouched there, one arm around your shoulders, keeping you grounded for the moment. “Wha’ was tha’ all ‘bout?” He pulled back a little but you chased the feeling of protection he was offering, whether it was intentional or not. You didn’t answer him, but given the way he sighed, you thought he may have already known. “Okay.” He finally muttered and you thought he was going to move away and leave you there.

He hoisted you up into his arms instead, backing out of the stall and then leaving the showers all together. You thought you could still hear whispers as the door closed behind you, your face instinctively burrowing further into his collarbone.

“Is she okay?” Carol’s voice was full of concern, a small gentle touch brushing over the center of your back as Daryl kept walking.

“She’s fine. Jus’ needs ta sleep.” He answered roughly. You were jostled slightly as he began to ascend the steps to your cell. You didn’t want to go there, not now that you had awakened everyone and proven those voices right.

You were a burden.

You sniffled and waited for him to deposit you and leave. Your back met the mattress slowly, gently, and the blanket was pulled over you a second later. But instead of the bottom of the top bunk, you saw the high ceiling of the cell block when you opened your eyes.

You weren’t in your cell.

“Daryl?” You questioned meekly, turning your head just as the blanket lifted once more and the archer crawled under it at your side.

You were in his bed.

“What’re you—” You blinked wide eyes at his chest when you were unexpectedly pulled tightly against him, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“Try ta sleep now.”

Your surprise dissolved into something else, walking the fine line between gratitude and guilt. You nodded minutely, wiping your eyes as best you could given the proximity.

“Quit yer wigglin’.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, sniffling again before you closed your eyes. You could actually feel the lure of sleep pulling heavily at your subconscious, your mind already growing blank and your eyelids too heavy to open. You felt safe and warm and right. You’d have to talk to him about what happened but that was a problem for tomorrow. “Daryl?” You mumbled, almost slurring the syllables.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

His eyes opened, staring at the darkness over your head while the tension left your body and your breaths deepened, soft snores already puffing out against his skin. The archer pulled you a little closer.

“Don’ ever hafta thank me, Y/N. I gotcha.”

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bayothemayo · 6 months

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🎃Whumptober Day 12: Insomnia (Akira Kurusu/Ren Amamiya x Reader)🎃

WARNING: Spoilers after the November 20 Interrogation.

It is pretty silent in Ren's room. You lay your head on Ren's head as you hold him closely. You can tell that he is still awake, since he is moving more than usual. It had been a few hours since you both called it the night. You run your fingers through his hair as you quietly hum, in hopes that this can make him fall asleep. After a few minutes you spoke up, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No..."

"That's fine. Do you feel comfortable like this?

"Yes." His voice is slightly muffled due to his face against your neck. You smile as you continue to hold him close.

"Do you feel any pain or soreness?"

"Only some dull pain."

You hum in response, "Tell me when you need anything okay?"

"Alright."

You give him a kiss on the head and holds him tighter, "We can get through this." Ren holds you a bit tighter as you said this. Within a few minutes you can feel him starting to snore. You quietly chuckled to yourself as you kiss him on the head again.

#whumptober2023 #whump #angst #no.12 #fanfiction #Fic #Persona 5 x reader #Persona 5 protagonist x reader #akira kurusu x reader #ren amamiya x reader #insomia #hurt/comfort

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 6 months

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Maintenance

When Sam’s phone rings and he sees Castiel’s caller ID, he can’t quite suppress the old sense of alarm. Their lives have been peaceful for a while now - maybe too peaceful. And although Dean and Cas have seemed happy since moving into Bobby’s old cabin last year, Sam doesn’t trust that happiness. From experience, good things never last for the Winchesters.

Warily, he picks up the phone. “Cas, hey, what’s going on?”

“Can I seek refuge at the bunker?” As usual, the angel isn’t one for preliminaries.

“Why?” Sam asks, immediately worried. “What happened? Where’s Dean?”

“He’s at the farmer’s market.”

“The farmer’s market? What for?”

“To buy food.” Cas sounds annoyed. “That’s what you do there.”

Sam rubs his forehead. “I know that. But I didn’t know Dean did. But what does that have to do with you seeking refuge? Is someone after you? Something? Do you need help?”

“I definitely need help.” A nuance of desperation bleeds through Castiel’s grumpiness. “The situation is dire.”

Sam is squinting into the phone now. He still has no idea what the hell Cas is talking about.

“Cas, what happened? What the hell is going on?”

On the other end of the line, the angel sighs deeply. “I sent Dean for a check-up.”

“A check-up? At the doctor’s?” Sam’s heartbeat picks up.

“Yes. Humans are feeble creatures. They need maintenance, Samuel,” Cas lectures him.

“I know that,” Sam all but snaps back, his patience wearing thin. “And Dean went? Is he sick?”

“Not yet. But he could become sick if he doesn’t watch his-... wait, I forgot what it’s called.” There’s a pause, and Sam hears paper rustling in the background. “... his cholesterol. It’s too high.”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to sigh. He has a hunch where this is going. “Did his doctor put him on a diet?”

Castiel grunts gloomily. “He told him to swap meat for vegetables.”

“Let me guess,” Sam says, battling a feeling somewhere between relief, worry and laughter. “He’s eating greens and hating it.”

“...and being unbearable, yes,” Cas adds. “I know he’s doing this for me, Sam. He wants to be healthy for me. But, dear God, he’s killing me.” Sam can literally hear the misery written on the angel’s face.

“That bad?”

“He’s angry all the time. Even when he sleeps.”

Sam can’t help it. He chuckles.

“It’s not funny, Sam.”

“I know, I know.” Sam disguises his inappropriate mirth in a cough. “I’m sorry, Cas. I can imagine.”

He hears Castiel scratch his ever-present stubble.

“What shall I do, Sam? Can I stay with you and Eileen for a while? Until he's less... like this?”

Sam takes a moment to think. “Of course you can. But I don’t think it’ll help Dean’s mood if he thinks you’re leaving him.”

“I’m not leaving him!” Cas is appalled.

“No, but he’ll take it that way, Cas. You know how he is. He’s always afraid that you will. And he’ll blame himself. And that will make him even more angry.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Glumly.

“That bad?”

“Demon Dean was a ray of sunshine compared to him.”

“Oh.”

They both fall silent for a moment. Sam is just about to suggest something when, on the other end of the line, he hears a door slam.

“Sam, Dean’s back,” Castiel hisses.

“Hey hey! Who are you talking to, Cas?”

Dean’s voice. Bright and cheerful.

“I’m… I’m talking to Sam…”

“Oh yeah? Tell him and Eileen to come over tonight! I’m putting steaks on the grill. And burgers. I’m gonna show that doctor where he can shove his cholesterol.”

Dean laughs, defiantly and wholeheartedly, and Sam can imagine the i-don’t-give-a-damn joy in his brother’s eyes.

Then Castiel is back on the line. “Did you hear what he said?” He sounds very relieved.

“Yes.” Sam smirks. “Problem solved, I guess?”

“For now. But I’ll need you to teach me some heart-healthy recipes. Maintenance, remember?”

“I’ll be happy to. But it’s you who’ll make him eat them.”

Castiel sighs again. “God help me.”

Sam chuckles again. “I’m afraid you’re on your own, buddy.”

He hangs up, to the sound of Dean whistling gaily in the background.

#suptober23 #no.12 #swap-meat #fanfic #it's not what you think #will you look at that #i thought i'd burned out on suptober #but apparently there's still some juice left in me #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester #humor #destiel

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