#blood and bruises

[aggressiveviking]

billy

[fantasyismyonlyrealescape]

Whumptober 2024: No. 17 - Nowhere Else To Go/Ruined Map

Title: Stitch Me Back Together

Fandom: WWE (Professional Wrestling)

Characters: Sami Zayn & Kevin Owens (Zowens)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 816

A/N: Welcome to another addition to Whumptober, Day 17. Cheers!

Summary: Kevin Owens shows up at Sami's door in the middle of the night, injured and lost. As Sami tries to tend to Kevin's injuries, he reflects on what brought them to this point.

Cross posted on AO3 under user wrestlinginjeans.

A battered Kevin Owens showed up at Sami’s door late into the night, dejected and broken. Blood was strewn across his face, down his arms and chest, his black t-shirt torn. Sami could see bruises blossoming under his collarbone and across his shoulders. Sami’s eyes widen, immediately reaching out and grabbing Kevin by the shoulders, his hands moving over Kevin’s body, probing his limbs to determine if he might have any hidden injuries.

Wincing and taking in a harsh breath as Sami’s hands find a particularly sore area of his right wrist, Kevin takes a staggering step back to escape Sami’s searching hands. Sami immediately closes the distance between them again and Kevin holds up a shaking hand.

“Sami, please. I need to sit down…” Kevin manages to gasp out, swaying on his feet as Sami grabs him by the arm.

“I’ve got you…” Sami says quietly, transferring part of Kevin’s weight to his own by slinging one of Kevin’s arms over his shoulders, just in time as Kevin’s knees begin to buckle. It’s slow going, but after a few minutes Sami has settled Kevin in his sparsely furnished apartment, the dark-haired man collapsing heavily on Sami’s couch.

              Sami lingers just outside of Kevin’s line of vision for a moment, wringing his hands together nervously before running a hand through his hair as he observes Kevin’s body language. His partner was in a considerable amount of pain, that was certain. Kevin rarely showed anybody he was operating at less than one hundred percent. He had grown more comfortable with showing Sami over the years, but he was still not as open as Sami would like. So, seeing Kevin in this state was doing a number on Sami. Taking a steadying breath, he approaches Kevin and stops in front of him.

“Kev…” Sami prompts, noticing that Kevin had closed his eyes. After a heartbeat, Sami sees grey orbs appear from underneath sluggish lids. “There you are, Kev… I’m going to need to take a look at you, see if you have any hidden injuries.”

Kevin gives Sami a tired nod, his eyes closing once again.

Sami nods in response, knowing that Kevin couldn’t see him. Crouching down beside his friend, his eyes and hands begin to brush over Kevin’s skin, his heart aching at the amount of damage done to his partner’s body. Kevin groans every so often at the redhead’s probing and Sami notices Kevin was biting his lip to keep from crying out as Sami presses on his body.

“Kev, what happened?” Sami asks, trying to distract his injured friend with conversation as he continues his examination.

A shuddering breath escapes Kevin as he opens his mouth to speak, a cry ripping itself from his throat. As Sami presses down on the right side of Kevin’s ribs to check the extent of the damage, Kevin tries to shy away from the contact. Sami immediately starts whispering reassurances in English and French as he makes quick work of the rest of his examination. Standing swiftly, he bends down to give Kevin’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“I’m going to go get some supplies from the bathroom. I’ll be right back, okay?” Sami explains gently before dropping his hand and striding towards the bathroom to get the required items.

Half a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a roll of gauze, a box of band-aids and a bag of cotton balls later and the pair are utterly exhausted. The supplies, strewn across the floor next to a bowl of bloodied now cold water and several bloodied towels accompanied the medicine cabinet items. Sami had stripped Kevin of his torn t-shirt, tossing it into the corner before he started tending to Kevin’s wounds. So, Kevin was laying back heavily against the throw pillows, bare chested except for the wrap of gauze around his ribs.

After Kevin got some rest, Sami knew that he would have to get checked out by a proper doctor, his knowledge only stretching so far, but for now Kevin seemed to be out of harm's way. Sami’s emotions were completely shot, reaching out a bloodied shaking hand to adjust the blankets around Kevin. Sami knew that Kevin’s anguished cries while Sami tended to his wounds would haunt him for longer than he cared to admit. Sami’s eyes rake over Kevin’s prone body, his eyes coming to rest on Kevin’s face. For now, his partner appeared to be asleep, his face only slightly pained. For now, that would have to be enough.

Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens have been and always would be intertwined, two connecting puzzle pieces, two sides of the same map. Over the years, their friendship had had its fair share of challenges, creating tears in the fabric of their friendship, but they had always found a way back to each other. Even a ruined map could lead two wounded souls back to each other.

[bhaalbabebardlock]

Astarion's words of wisdom: Lili always gets us into trouble

[draculaswidow]

[cookiencupcake]

X

[zimithrus]

Heroes don't stay down

[dragonpyre]

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck I need to hurt The Character

[sethdomain]

where is this quote from seem familiar

[somnoir]

Down Bad in Distress

Bruce Wayne is kidnapped... A lot. And it's always so weird that only Batman is allowed to save him. That this dumb, charming, but kidnap-able Billionaire doesn't have a bodyguard.

Now, Bruce can simply go "Oh, we've got Batman. No need to worry for that!" But people are fussy nowadays. He underestimates just bow much Gotham loves their disaster of a prince with a golden heart. Even his company employees are begging him to hire a bodyguard. (This is from the many files being sent to his office, obvious recommendations on competent bodyguards)

Cut to the new bodyguard for hire—who was recommended by Alfred of all people (something about him being the disciple of a good old friend of his). The man was large. Fucking huge. Taller than Jason, if one would like to admit (Jason is his 6'4" baby and this fucking fridge if a man looked 6'6").

But he was all soft and warm. Like a golden retriever the size of a bear.

Anyways, Danny was a rather kind man. When he wasn't following Bruce around and playing bodyguard, he was indulging the kids. Entertaining them with the most obscure things and stories from his childhood. Better yet, Danny would be the kids' bodyguard rather than Bruce's whenever they went out.

It was a miracle when they realized that Damian wasn't reacting badly to the man. Very strange since Damian would think it'd be shameful for someone to protect him during the day. But then again, Bruce once saw Danny effortlessly pick up Damian so his son could coax a cat out of a tree. That was most likely the kicker.

Anyways, Danny looked and felt soft.

It wasn't easy for him to settle into the man's ever present presence, but it's been almost four months since Danny's been hired and Bruce doesn't even flinch when the man brightly greets him from the bottom of the stairs.

"Good morning, mr. Wayne!" Danny would say, all teeth and bright eyes in his suit.

"Bruce," he'd correct immediately.

And then Danny would pause, laugh, and— "Good morning, Bruce."

Then his kids would follow and Danny would affectionately greet them all, ask where they plan to go and if they needed Danny to follow.

His bodyguard was like sunshine and warmth incarnate.

But if course, Danny was a bodyguard.

There were instances where Bruce would have to take a second to remind himself that this man that would look down at socialites like he's ready to crush their hands is the same one who once gave him puppy-dog eyes to back up Damian when his son asked to keep the kittens.

That the same man who grabbed someone by the scruff of their collar like they were weightless was the same one who talked about poetry and literature with Jason.

That the man who once hauled Bruce off the ground and walked right out the gala when the smoke alarms blared is the same one who would gently coax Tim off the coach and into a proper bed.

But right now, that's not his concern. No. Bruce is more concerned about the fact that he's gotten kidnapped again.

Everyone was most likely alerted. They were. He could hear Red Robin, Blackbat and Spoiler talking over the comms, checking in on Red Hood and Robin in case things went off.

"B, don't move. These guys are more prepared than the usual ones." Tim's voice filters into the comms, evidently annoyed. "I've got Oracle checking if there are any bombs in the place."

Bruce stayed silent, watching the masked men and women walk around, guns in hand and crates surrounding them. He had been knocked out during a party. The last thing he saw was Danny's eyes—god, it frightened him a bit. How those pretty blues suddenly turned green like Jason's.

Then he was here. Most likely with a concussion.

"B?"

"I'm okay... Be careful..." He murmurs under his breath, hearing his children sigh in relief.

"Good. We've got Red Ho—What the fuck is that?" Barbara immediately cut herself off, her voice strained and pitched with surprise.

"Oracle?"

"Spoiler—Do you have a view on that?" Oracle frantically asked. "Shit—the cameras just went down. Guys?"

"is that—" Stephanie chokes out, "Is that Danny?"

Bruce froze. Danny?

Jason always knew that Danny was kinda off. The first time he met the man, it wasn't his size that Jason immediately noticed. It was how his eyes flashed green when they met his. At first, he felt threatened, ready to attack whatever the fuck thought it was a good idea to infiltrate his family.

But then... Then Danny smiled at him. Offered his hand with a kind greeting. Jason took that hand and... And felt calm. Like the buzz in his head melted away, like the Lazarus was cleansed.

And Danny most likely knew. Because the man was smiling in satisfaction, like he was pleased that Jason suddenly didn't feel starved and angry and hurt.

"I don't know what happened to you kid, but whatever the hell did, it wasn't good for you. Hopefully you'll get better now." Danny whispered softly and then withdrew his hand, tucking it behind his back.

Jason doesn't know what the fuck Danny was but the man was worth keeping around.

Admittedly, he turned to Danny a lot nowadays. Jason can't call Bruce all the time. No. His relationship with Bruce still isn't good enough to warrant Jason to call him constantly.

But Danny? Again, Jason doesn't know what the hell this guy is but whenever Jason was in trouble, he dialed Danny's phone immediately. And he came... Every, single, fucking time. No questions asked, just pick Jason up and patch him up like nothing.

Danny was a good guy. Like sunshine, like golden retrievers. All teeth with some fangs.

And that same guy just snapped a man's neck with his bare hands.

"Hood... Are you seeing this?" Robin asked beside him, equally stunned as they watched their usually kind and sweet bodyguard effortlessly tear through the group of men with his bare hands. There was already blood around. Everywhere, maybe. Some already on Danny.

"He's on a fucking warpath." Jason murmurs. Every bit of admiration he had for Danny just multiplied by a thousand when he watched him grab a gun right out of a guy's hand and slam it into their head. Fucking amazing.

If Bruce doesn't square up and ask this guy on a date, Jason would have to start planning to parent trap them.

Fucking shit, he needed this guy as a dad.

The doors don’t just open—they explode off their hinges, a violent crack echoing through the warehouse. Guns swing up, barrels glinting under harsh light, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the figure in the doorway.

Bruce’s pulse slams against his ribs.

And then Danny walks in, dragging a half-conscious man by the leg, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. He doesn’t even look winded.

Blood stains his usually pristine uniform—smeared across his face, streaked over the white of his shirt, soaking into his knuckles. His tie is gone. His collar is open, a few buttons undone, exposing a sliver of skin beneath the mess. There’s blood on his face, drying in streaks, and his knuckles—his knuckles are raw, dripping, alive. He looks… disheveled. Lethal. Gorgeous.

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! THAT'S DANNY!" Spoiler screeched, "HE'S BODYING THOSE FUCKERS! RED! RED, ARE YOU FUCKING SEEING THIS?!"

"SOMEONE RECORD THIS! SHIT! SOMEONE RECORD THIS!" Red Robin replied, equally loud and frantic as if trying desperately to find the old camera he used to stalk Bruce many years ago.

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t hesitate.

Danny launches the man he was dragging, sending him crashing into the nearest gunman with a sickening thud. Before anyone can react, he moves—crossing the room in impossibly fluid strides, twisting a wrist until a gun clatters to the floor, elbowing another man so hard in the ribs that something audibly cracks. A shot goes off, a wild, panicked attempt—Danny doesn’t even flinch. He snatches the arm holding the gun and bends it the wrong way. The scream is immediate.

Bruce’s breath catches.

Another man rushes Danny with a knife—big mistake. Danny catches his wrist mid-swing, wrenches it to the side with bone-snapping efficiency, then drives the same blade into another attacker’s thigh. The man howls, but Danny is already moving, slamming someone’s face into the nearest table hard enough to leave a smear of red on the wood.

They never stood a chance.

Two minutes. Two damn minutes, and the entire room is a battlefield of unconscious, broken bodies.

And Bruce cannot focus.

Bruce barely registers Jason swearing at him through the comms, telling him to get it together. He can’t.

And then Danny turns to him.

His face is splattered with blood, his chest rising and falling steadily as he steps forward. His hands, bruised and raw, reach out, and Bruce swallows hard.

Danny kneels, gaze flicking to Bruce’s bound wrists, and his touch—gentle, so gentle—works at the ropes with precise care. The knots had been tight, biting into his skin enough to bruise, to draw blood. Danny’s jaw clenches at the sight.

Bruce should say something. Should thank him. Should not be thinking about how unfairly attractive he looks like this—wild, wrecked, utterly devoted.

But he can’t help it.

He’s so gone.

"Mr. Wayne."

On instruct, Bruce corrects him. "Bruce."

And Danny pauses.

The chaos settles—not in the room, where bodies lay crumpled, groaning, and barely conscious—but in him. Just for a second. Just long enough for Bruce to see it.

Blue flickers into green. A warning. A promise.

Bruce doesn’t look away. Can’t. Even as Danny tilts his head, something unhinged curling at the edges of his smile. His chest rises and falls, slow, deliberate, the blood on his face catching the dim light. His knuckles, split and raw, flex at his sides before he exhales a laugh—low, sharp, guttural.

Almost a growl.

And Bruce—God help him—feels something thrill in his spine.

Then Danny takes his wrists. Carefully. Reverently. Those same hands that had snapped bones and silenced screams mere moments ago now hold Bruce’s bruised, bloodied skin like it’s something precious.

Then—cold.

Not warm. Not comforting. Cold lips, pressing soft against each wound, his touch featherlight against the raw skin. Bruce shudders.

Danny pulls back just enough for Bruce to see his lips—stained red with his blood. And he grins, sharp fangs more prominent than ever, his eyes molten with something Bruce can’t name.

"Bruce…"

Danny says it like a prayer. Like a promise. Like a goddamn claim.

Exasperated. Excited. Fond. And something else entirely.

"Try not to get kidnapped again, Bruce… Or I might just end up blowing up Gotham to get you back.

Bruce’s breath stutters.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Bruce is so utterly gone.

(Someone laughs in the background, shadows curling at their feet. Lady Gotham is pleased.)

Part 2 | Masterpost

[dr-mohan]

JACK ABBOT + hands

[citricacidprince]

The twins are all having very different experiences lmao

[lil-lemon-snails]

🧸

[cookiencupcake]

X

[jobycewl]

I really liked @cybershock24601 ‘s idea of it only being SVSSS’s Mobei-jun who always had his tits out so I made this 😭

[mcnotok]

[putrecabra]

hi i come bringing a lot of sketchy sketches :| this is kinda me just journaling my way thru the game lolol (i put them in chronological order, which isnt necessarily when i drew it lol) (also i put the first aid perk even tho i know it was changed to survival but like. ... yknow whatever alskdfjsld) ok bye (rolls away)