#no.25

[breezy-cheezy]

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive

This part really struck me, and I wanted to draw it! Luffy is just trying to protect his little family, and while the Lapins nearly got them killed, he still helps pull one out of the snow....because he recognizes they're trying to protect their family too. And I love that ;v;

BASICALLY A PANEL REDRAW here's the panel

[celtic-crossbow]

Whumptober 2023

No. 25 “They’re not breathing!”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Whisperers Era

Warnings: Description of injuries, mouth to mouth resuscitation

“Y/N. Hey, hey. M’righ’ here.” Daryl sat on his knees beside you, leaning over you. “Can ya open yer eyes?”

“D-Daryl?” You obliged him but found it hard to keep your eyes open, let alone keep his face in focus. “It’s o…okay. It doesn’t…hurt.”

The archer looked at the wound in your side, still steadily oozing blood. He placed a hand over it, his expression sympathetic and guilty when you winced. 

“Okay…I… I take it…back. That…fucking sucks.”

Daryl snorted, but he couldn’t hold on to the humor. Crimson seeped from between his fingers, warm and sticky. “Jus’ hang on, y’hear me? Siddiq’s on ‘is way.”

“Tired.” You whispered, your eyes glazing over. “D…Daryl? Daryl?” There was an urgency in your tone that filled the bowman with panic. He leaned in above you with a loud plea for you to keep looking at him, but your eyes slipped shut. 

“Y/N?”

Carol sprinted over, doubling over with her hands on her knees in an attempt to catch her breath. “She okay?”

“Y/N?! Fuck!” He clumsily shook your shoulder, keeping his other hand over the wound. “She ain’t breathin’!”

“Shit.” Carol whispered, lowering to her knees opposite of Daryl to place two fingers to your carotid artery. “There’s still a pulse.” She didn’t hesitate to pinch your nose and place her mouth over yours to offer much needed oxygen to starving lungs. 

Daryl watched with grief and horror, desperate to hear you take in a breath. “C’mon.”

Carol glanced up at her best friend. “Daryl—”

“Nah. No. Don’ ya stop.” He was shaking his head adamantly, eyes fierce and nostrils flaring. He didn’t give Carol a chance to continue, taking his hand from the wound to proceed with breathing for you. Carol scrambled to put pressure back on the wound. “Ain’t losin’ ‘er.” 

Carol watched, lip quivering and eyes leaking. She pressed her fingers to your neck again. Your heart was still beating but slowing with each passing moment. Daryl continued forcing air into your lungs, begging you to respond. Carol turned when she heard Siddiq calling your name. 

“Over here!”

“C’mon, Y/N. Please.” Another breath, but this time, when he slanted his mouth over yours, you dragged in a harsh gulp of air. “Tha’s it. Good girl.” You remained unresponsive but you were breathing, sparking a flame of hope within Daryl’s chest. “Stay with me.” He could hear Siddiq right beside him now, but The archer’s eyes remained on your face. 

Carol and Siddiq scrambled to stabilize you, leaving Daryl to tether you. The wound was deep with the threat of internal injury as well. Still, Siddiq was hopeful.

“I’ll get Aaron to help us move her. We have to get her back to the infirmary.” 

Carol nodded and watched him go, her hand instinctively reaching out to squeeze Daryl’s shoulder. “She’ll be okay.”

Daryl nodded, stroking your bloody cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I know.” He brushed your damp hair off of your forehead before pressing his lips there. “Y’ain’t goin’ anywhere, Sunshine. Yer too damn stubborn fer that shit.”

Somehow, in the darkness, you could hear Daryl’s voice, leading you back to him. 

[mystery-star]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 25 | Storm

Master and Commander - The Far Side of the World (2003)

[lost-shoe]

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier

Whumptober 2022

No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN

[whumpypepsigal]

Whumptober 2023 | No. 25

Buried Alive

Hudson & Rex s03e09: “I’ve got you.”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[aceofwhump]

Whumptober 2023

Day 25: Storm

The Martian

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[whump-side]

Whumptober 2023 No.25 : Alternative Prompt Lab rat It seems like I always bring back the Barcode Bros for monthly challenges

[jasmines-library]

People are Strange

WHUMPTOBER DAY 25: prompt: “Hunted down/failed escape”

Fandom: The Lost Boys

Summary: Whilst on a hunt for a meal, you come across what appears to be the perfect victims, however things go downhill quickly when you realise that they are hunters and you are their prey. And when you try to run, you realise you have a bigger problem that would leave you trapped in the woods with no where to go: The sun is rising quickly…

Warnings: Failed Escape, torture? (Stakes and Holy water), some weird holy water drip thing?, blood, death.

Word count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

It was unusually warm in Santa Carla for the time of year, which meant that the boardwalk was heaving. Although the leaves donning their usual golden hues, the chill that was carried through the air was absent. The night was busy and disorientating with swarm of people the bright lights flitting in and out of the shops. All of the extra people created extra noise and with your vampire senses you could smell each and every one of them like someone was playing them through a megaphone. There jangle of change being tossed around in a pocket, the sound of a zip being undone, a chesty cough, a string of laughter in between broken conversations. It was nauseating.

However it was your turn to lure in the night’s feed, so you were left with no choice but to begrudgingly stroll around the centre of activity. Dwayne had offered to give you company but you turned it down, telling him that you wanted to enjoy the scenery. Besides, your story would be more believable if there wasn’t a leather-clad motorcyclist hovering around you. You wandered along the boardwalk, swinging your arms by your sides and keeping your eyes peeled for someone who looked gullible enough to be drawn in. Perhaps an ignorant surf-nazi who only thought with his dick or someone of that sort.

The night was still young by the time you spotted him: tall and tan with a mop of dark, greasy hair, prancing around the boardwalk like he owned the place. He was with another man of a similar age, who donned a similar demeanour. You tailed the pair for a while, creeping around in their shadows as they went about their business. Their behaviour was what you would expect it be: brawny. And childish. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at their ignorance.

Slowly you began to grown impatient as they hung around the boardwalk. The sun would rise soon and if you weren’t home by then…

You shook the thought from your mind. You would be fine, you told yourself. Worst comes to worst you would just have to leave early and snag someone on the way home, but you didn’t like the mess and the fact that it made your hands sticky.

“You okay, Doll?” David asked through your mind link. You could practically picture him in your mind, just from his tone of voice. He would be sat on his wheelchair with a cigarette lit between his fingers. Most likely weed. And his right leg would be crossed over his left as he lounged, pretending that the fact that you weren’t home yet wasn’t nothing him when really it was all he could think about.

“Fine.” You replied. “It’s just taking longer than usual. I’ll be back before sunrise I promise.”

The two boys you had been following were slowly teetering towards the edge of the boardwalk, inching away from the crowds and down the steps to the beach. You swerved through the crowds to trail behind them. When they reached a secluded area under the pier, they stopped and you darted behind one of the pillars.

“We know you’re there, bloodsucker. Are you going to come out or are you just going to stand there and watch?”

Had your heart still been beating, it would have stopped dead in your chest. How long had they known? You stepped out into the light, you face contorted into that vampire look: golden eyes and bared teeth.

The man spat at you. “You think that’s gonna work?”

Someone grabbed you roughly from behind, wrapping an icy claw around your forearm. You let out an animalistic growl, breaking away from his grasp with your vampiric strength. You lunged forwards to try and take one of them down. You had faced worse odds before, but one of them was clutching a vial of holy water which he flicked at you. Your skin sizzled and you howled as it melted your skin.

Snarling, you turned and fled, slipping away from the hunters, but they weren’t far behind. They were smart. You could see the sliver of blue emerging on the skyline as the sun began to rise. The hunters had been stalling to try and trap you under the sunlight. And for a heart wrenching moment, it looked like it was working.

So you ran.

Feet slapping against the ground and scuffing against the protruding roots and the sleeves of your jacket snagged against the trees and thorns, tearing at the hand sewn patches on your jacket. You knew it would bother you later; you had sewn them on with Marko, but right now you didn’t care. They were hot on your heels and you had to get away.

The hunters were gaining on you, trailing behind you as you fled towards the cave, trying to use the woodland as shelter from the rising sun.

You could feel the way that the sun was affecting you. It made your eyes droop and your body feel like it weighed a thousand times more than it should have done as you moved. Perhaps it was the reason that your movements had began to grow sluggish.

“David?” You implored, racing towards safety. You weren’t sure if you were going to get there before the golden flecks of sunlight rose complete above the ocean to cast a soft glow on the shimmering water.

“Doll? Where are you?” It wasn’t David that replied. No, this voice was too openly concerned.

“Hunters.” You panted. “They knew I was following them. I’m on my way but I- they’re going to get me. I’m not going to make it back…”

“What?!” This time it was David. He growled the word through gritted teeth.

“Babe? You need to keep going. Where are you?” Dwayne urged.

“I’m on the bluff…the woods… I can’t go any further…” the sunlight assaulted your eyes as you stumbled to a stop at the edge of the trees, trapped by the light under the shelter of the leaves. You clung to the trunk.

“Come on, baby. You’re so close. You have to keep going.” Paul? You weren’t sure anymore, your head was too foggy and all you could focus on was that big ball of fiery light that shone. It was ironic really. You had forgotten how beautiful it could be in your many years of slinking away from it. But you couldn’t revel in its beauty as you collapsed to your knees, unable to withstand the affects of its spell.

“I can’t…”you muttered. The hunters approached quickly. “It’s already too late…”

There was a choral cry of your name.

“I’m sorry…”

~

The only thing you could register when you awoke was pain. Raw and fiery as the holy water sizzled on your skin like oil in a pan. You screamed, body bucking against the pain.

“Be quiet.” Someone hissed at you, emptying the rest of their flask on your skin. You muffled a cry by sinking your fangs into your lip, they drew blood.

You weren’t sure where you were. Or what time it was for that matter. You knew from the light that shone through the window that it was still day. You edged away from the light, as far as the beam you were tied to would let you. You knew that as the sun moved, you would eventually be caught in its light.

“What do you want from me?” You wailed.

The man grinned, screwing the cap back onto the empty flask before throwing it over his shoulder. It clattered against the floor. “Don’t worry. We’re not gonna kill you.”

“Yet.” The other interjected. He was leaning up against the wall sharpening a stake.

“You’re just the bait. We’re just gonna make sure to hurt you nice and slow, just until the rest of the bloodsuckers arrive. Then, I’m going to drive that stake right through your heart.”

“You’re a dead man.” You told him.

David and the boys would be on their way soon. You knew it. As soon as the moon replaced the sun they would be on their way. You had tried to reach out to them through the link, but nothing came up but static. They had retreated to the back of the cave to sleep, sheltered from the cruel sun. What you should have been doing, but you just had to make sure you got a good catch, didn’t you?

“We’ll see.” The Hunter tilted his head as he floated towards an old IV stand. He fiddled with the bag filled with clear liquid. It was connected to a thin wire in that led to a small needle. Noticing your curiosity, he flicked the head of the cylinder to remove the bubbles and flicked the switch the start the flow of the liquid before moving toward you. “Holy water.”

You chucked. They were going to try and cure you. “That’s not going to work, dipshit.”

He just shrugged, inserting the needle into the crook of your arm. “Maybe not. But it’ll hurt like a bitch.”

He was right. You held back a scream as the liquid began to trickle into your veins.

“Go fuck yourself.” You gritted out.

“Sit tight, little vampire.”

~

Dwayne couldn’t sleep. He had tried to, but your words swirled around his brain like a disease.

‘I can’t. It’s too late…I’m sorry’

Then there was that fateful silence that gripped his heart tightly and squeezed, tearing at the strings. His brothers had retreated to the cave, deciding that they needed to gain their strength to leave at sunset. But Dwayne was wide awake. It wasn’t unusual for him to be up at this hour of the day. He often chose to revel in the peace and quiet and curl up with a book, but this time he just sat, bouncing his leg up and down.

Dwayne wasn’t sure what was worse. Not being able to feel you, or only being able to feel your agony. Because that was the decision he was faced with when you woke up. He had tried to reach out to you, and could feel you probing around in the link, but your mind wasn’t focused enough to get anywhere.

“Dwayne? Come on man, you’re stinking the place out. Go back to bed.” Marko peered around the corner bleary eyed from sleep. He had shed his patchwork jacket and was wandering round barefoot. He didn’t like the absence of your bodies in the cave, they left an empty, cold hole, but it was your discomfort that forced him to make the move. He knew that his brother would still be in the same spot he was when they left, wallowing in your pain. He couldn’t bare to leave him like that.

“Sorry.”

“She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”

“It’s just…” Dwayne threw his hands up. “I offered to go with her. I should have insisted…”

“Stop that.” Marko almost snapped. “Come on. You haven’t fed and we’re all going to need out strength. It looks like we’re having Hunter for breakfast.”

~~~

You couldn’t take it anymore. The pain had begun to become unbearable as it seemed to burn you from the inside out. It was an agony you had never felt before. And you had lived a long time. No matter how much you writhed, there was no release from the pain and the needle wouldn’t budge.

The two hunters hadn’t returned, but you could smell them nearby. They reaked of fear. You hadn’t given much thought to how you would die, but you never thought you would go out this way. Left alone to suffer a painful death in an unknown building, surrounded by nothing but your own screams.

Unsure of exactly how much time had passed, as your body began to grow numb and your screams faded to whimpers, you watched as the light coming from the windows shrunk. They would be coming soon. You told yourself. Just a little longer. But you were beginning to lose hope as your body withered away. And then you heard it. A faint tickle in the back of your mind.

“Y/n…”

“Hmm?”

“Stay with us doll, we’re on our way.”

“Can’t...”

David knew that. He could feel your silent cries for help.

“You have to try, Doll.”

“M’kay”

Suddenly, they felt a rise of panic bubble up within you.

“Y/n?”

You heard him and could sense them drawing nearer, but couldn’t compel your body to reply. The hunters had returned again.

One of them raised the stake he had been sharpening. “It’s showtime.”

As the door flew open and two of the blonds emerged with angry eyes and sharp teeth in full display, he raised the stake, hovering it over your heart.

“Ah ah.” He chided. “Not a step closer.”

“Get away from her.” Paul growled, observing your state. Your head hung to the side, permanently contorted into a look of pain. You eyes were squeezed shut and you mouth was agape. He saw the IV buried deep in your arm, following it to the half-empty bag. He took in the way your whole body trembled uncontrollably as you fought to keep yourself awake. You were dying. For the second time.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be making demands here.” He pressed the stake harder against your skin and the scent of your blood began to fill the air. But it was off. “See, right now we have holy water pumping through her pretty veins, burning her insides out slowly. If you do what we say, then it stops. And we’ll allow her to heal. If you don’t? Then bye bye baby.”

Paul and Marko gave each other an unspoken glance.

Marko gestured to you. “You back away from her first. Until then we’re not doing shit.”

With a brief nod, they backed away, ripping the needle from your arm, but keeping the stake poised.

“Better.”

“Now. Where are the other two?”

“Right fucking behind you, halfwit.” David grabbed the man from behind, tearing a chunk out of his neck before throwing him unceremoniously to the dusty ground. That was when Paul and Marko surged forward, wrapping their hands and tearing away at the others skin mercilessly.

Dwayne was crouching next to you, running his hands over your skin, it was oddly warm, which concerned the vampire and caused him to knit his brows together in concern. You whimpered at the contact.

“Babe?”

You squinted at him, using your energy to try and lift your head. You made out his dark hair.

“Dwayne?” You slurred “ s’you?”

“Yeah. It’s us. We’re here.”

You hummed, but it didn’t really mean anything. Your mind was beginning to lose control over your body- your world was now just a blur of pain as Dwayne disappeared momentarily.

Then the familiar coolness of David’s leather gloves against your chin as he angled it upwards. His lips moved but you didn’t understand what he was saying. And then there was hot, sticky blood trickling from your lips. It gave you strength, but did little to ease the pain.

“Y/n?” David’s voice broke through.

“Hurts.” It was the only thing you knew at that moment. So it was the first word you mustered up.

“I know doll. I know. We’re gonna fix it I promise.”

He turned to his brothers and they all moved into position and soon the pain that circulated your body was replaced by four new ones as each of them sank their fangs into your skin and began to drink. The thought that the holy water in your blood probably hurt them crossed your mind, but they would do anything to save you. When your body began to grow woozy, something warm was forced into your mouth as you were encouraged to drink.

You took slow, but greedy sips as the liquid ran down your raw throat. The four of them watched you anxiously.

“Y/n?”

You pulled away, feeling much stronger than before. Still not 100%, but less like you were on the verge of death.

“I’m okay…”

There was a visible shift as they all relaxed to the ground. And then you were surrounded by four pairs of arms, who refused to let you go. You didn’t mind, choosing to cherish the moment, knowing that you would be around for a long time to come.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 24 ⛤ DAY 26 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[whumpetywhump]

Whumptober Day 25 - "They're Not Breathing"

Bulgasal: Immortal Souls - Ep. 6

First Responders - Ep. 7

Kokdu: Season Of Deity - Ep. 6

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble - Ep. 12

Til The End Of The Moon - Ep. 9

[cyberwhumper]

They can see everything through the cameras installed in their cell. When they were finally returned after a day of particularly grueling testing, the prototype was uncharacteristically irritable. No matter how much Vina tried to reason with it, it pushed him away and paced around, the tiny confines of their environment seeming especially constraining to the already overstimulated animal.

The tension was so thick between the two that it was noticeable through the surveillance feed. They all knew an accident was bound to happen, all deliberately under orders to wait until something happened to take action and intervene only if it threatened the life of any of the assets. Dog is able to hold a reluctant conversation with Vina at first, yet there was no amount of grounding he could possibly offer that could have prevented it from growing more and more confused.

In an instant, all that disquiet exploded into violence. It lunged toward its cellmate with calculated precision, shredding fragile flesh as if it were wet tissue paper. Vina didn't even have time to process what was happening until he was getting shaken around like a ragdoll, dragged through the floors and tossed against the walls like he was made of cotton. Begging for clemency had no effect. The animal was so strong it had disemboweled him and painted the floors with his insides, and he lost consciousness from the hemorrhage shortly after.

They immediately cut power to the prototype and ventured into the bloodbath to rescue Vina. He still had many years of his life to give to Watchtower, and they would never let him go so easily.

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[how-much-for-a-whump]

WHUMPTOBER day 25:

Prompt: "They're not breathing!"

Hatırla Gönül 6. Bölüm

[what-the-whump]

Whumptober 2023 | No.25

Storm | Buried Alive | "They're not breathing!"

Connor Temple in Primeval - 5x01 - Matt's Secret

[losthavenmine]

Whumptober 2023 Day 25 || "You're not delivering a perfect body to the grave."

Winter's Tale (2014)

[blaiddraws]

Whumptober day 25: Lost voice

back at it again with fic. two days in a row!! rip emmet tho. lol

> 1000 words

under the cut, or read here on ao3

Emmet shivered, pulling his coat tighter around himself. The ends fluttered in the wind where they weren't weighed down by snow or torn off completely by the wild pokemon he'd encountered.

The cold tore against his skin, a sharp painful wind that felt like blades of ice. The snow was deep, reaching up to his knees-- far deeper than he'd ever seen. 

He had absolutely no idea where he was, or how he'd gotten there.

Everything about this sucked.

It had already been a bad day. Too many unpleasant passengers, too much paperwork, not a single trainer making it to his car on the Battle Subway. He was completely and utterly mentally drained by the time he was able to close down for the night.

And now, he'd suddenly been transported to what felt like a nightmare land. Completely unfamiliar, the wild pokemon were far too aggressive, the environment actively hostile to survival. 

He didn't even have his pokemon! He'd put them in the PC to rest before he took everyone home. But never had the opportunity to do anything past that, because he'd been taken to some dragons-forsaken blizzard hell land.

(He tried verrry hard not to think about the similarities to what happened to his brother. Did Ingo get sent to somewhere as hostile as this? The same place, even? Would he have even survived?)

It was all so overwhelming and stressful and frustrating it, embarrassingly, made him want to cry. But he couldn't, because his tears would only make the cold worse. 

And so, without any idea what else he could do in this situation, he continued to trudge forward through the snow.

He kept on walking until his extremities were alarmingly numb, hoping that there were humans somewhere nearby and he hadn't been sent to the middle of nowhere. It wasn't like he knew how to survive in an environment like this! The coldest it had ever gotten for him was winter, and on the peak of Twist Mountain. Neither of which were anything like this frozen wasteland. 

He growled in frustration, fruitlessly rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm his ice-cold fingers, before quickly giving up and tucking them under his armpits. He couldn't do anything about his nose or ears, and he didn't even want to think about how his toes were faring. He needed to find some kind of shelter soon, or he wouldn't be surviving. Especially with how the wild pokemon were acting. With his luck, they'd find him shivering next to a measly fire and figure him a nice easy meal. 

Why they were so aggressive, he had no idea. Maybe it was a sign that there were truly no humans in the area -- if they'd never seen one, never been socialized, their aggression would make sense. He suspected. He was not an expert on the behavior of truly wild pokemon.

After a while stuck in his thoughts, he realized he had stopped walking entirely, and was just standing in place. He cursed at himself, and started walking at a faster pace than before. If he was spacing out bad enough he forgot to keep walking, things were definitely not looking good.

And then.

And then!

Much to his relief and joy, as he rounded a particularly tall snowdrift he caught the unmistakable glimmer of a light in the distance.

Something bright and warm colored, completely unlike something a creature native to this climate could naturally produce.

Without hesitation, he altered his course slightly and made a direct approach to the source of the light, increasing his pace even more -- the relief and hope of seeing the light was particularly rejuvenating.

It wasn't long until he could see things more clearly. A campfire! With tents! And best of all, people sitting around it! Real, human people! 

He'd never felt so happy to see another person when he was in such an overwhelmed mental state that he was. He grinned, big and wide. Even with the stress, it came easy with the amount of relief he felt.

They must have seen his approach, or heard his hurried footsteps. Suddenly, one of the individuals jumped up, letting out a wordless shout of alarm that caused the rest of their group to whip their heads around and look at Emmet.

Only… rather than. whatever he might have expected. the people then ran to hide, or pulled out weapons and called their pokemon partners to their side.

What? Wait, what? 

His steps faltered, then slowed to a stop all together as one individual in particular stepped forward, spear pointed directly at Emmet's heart, even from the relative distance. Not far enough to reach him, but he was confident they could throw it and their aim would be true.

They shouted something, certainly words. For a moment, he thought he had just completely missed comprehending what they said, with how mentally and physically drained he was, but as they continued to speak he realized they were speaking in a completely different language entirely. 

That was. not good.

He tilted his head, letting out a confused noise. Perhaps they could be able to understand his plight? No, that wouldn't make sense. But if he himself tried talking in his own language, maybe then? 

He just wanted the spear to Stop being pointed at his heart. It was. quite uncomfortable.

He held up his hands, and tried to speak. 

But all that came out was a pained, wheezy rasp, something awful and horrible even for his bad days. But this was definitely one of the worst days ever, so it wasn't particularly surprising.

Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect of getting the others to understand him. In fact, it seemed it was rather alarming -- not that he blamed them. It was definitely a horrible noise -- as the individual with the spear stepped forwards and jabbed it towards him, effectively pushing him away without touching him.

He whined, upset and confused, but it did little to sway the others, and their aggression did not lessen.

There was no way he was in the world he'd come from. Not with every pokemon and human being so aggressive. Pokemon, he could understand, but humans? It just did not make any sense. It wouldn't fit in his understanding of the world he came from.

He tucked his hands back under his arms, giving up on the peaceful gesture from before. His smile faltered, but he fought to keep it up. He needed to seem friendly! 

He rrrealy did not want to get sent back to that horrible snow and ice. He would certainly perish.

Despite their reactions, he stopped moving backwards and instead pointed at the fire. He tried making a pleading noise, but it clearly didn't come across well, as the person with a spear seemed to get angrier.

They shouted at him, loud and vicious, and jabbed the spear at him close enough that it would have stabbed him if he hadn't moved away in time. Even then, it nicked him in the arm, easily slicing through his moderately reinforced coat.

Not good! 

He tried one last, desperate attempt at speech, tears gathering in his eyes as everything threatened to bury him in an overwhelming wave of everything.

And surprisingly, it must have done something, based on their slight hesitation.

But it was only slight, giving him just enough time to dodge another swipe of the spear. The tears began to fall, and the person in front of him growled at their hesitation.

A moment later, it seemed as if they'd come to a conclusion of some kind, their countenance relaxing --

Before they quickly flipped their spear around and whacked him in the head with a blunt end.

(The last thing he saw, an instant before he blacked out, was a dark silhouette in the background, quickly approaching, and a comfortingly familiar voice.)

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 25: "They're not breathing!" + Storm

Read it on Ao3

- Hyrule & Legend

- Summary: Hyrule uses the last of his magic to save his brother's life

CW for temporary character death, blood and injury

-------------

He’s not breathing.

Hyrule stares down his brother, his predecessor (for goodness sake, they just figured that one out), broken and bleeding and pale. 

“Legend…”

He murmurs his name as a prayer, a plea, a demand. His voice cracks at the end, betraying the sorrow that swells within him like the waves he has seen in Wind’s Hyrule.

He waits for the response, reassuring and teasing, probably with a hint of sarcasm. And while he waits, the rain pours down and the thunder shakes the earth and the lightning streaks across the sky. It storms in a mockery of the boy who hates storms, yet faces them with all the ferocity they embody, all the fervor and bravery.

The boy who has fallen before them and risen again.

“Come on, Ledge.”

Shaking fingers press to a pulse point, searching for the weakest flutter of a heartbeat. Nothing.

No response. No thunder of a hero’s pounding heart. 

Hyrule chokes on a ragged sob.

It had all happened so fast, too fast to understand, too fast to stop. The fight had been long and arduous. The monsters just kept coming and with it only being the two of them, it had begun to grow exhausting. And when a towering stal-monster had swung its claymore there had been no time to lunge for his brother.

Hyrule cringes, remembering the nauseating sound of the weapon connecting with Legend’s body. He had gone flying, hit the ground in a tangle of bloodied limbs, and not moved since.

But I need you to. Please, Legend. 

Their potions are gone, horribly understocked to begin with (they hadn’t thought they were headed towards a fight; it was just supposed to be a quick patrol), and drunk early in the battle. He’s all but drained of magic. There is hardly enough to perform something simple, much less a healing spell. 

But he has to do something, he can’t just sit here and wait for the moment when the others arrive (if they ever do, if some of the plentiful monsters didn’t slip away and attack them too). He can’t just sit here and watch Legend die.

(No, he’s not already dead even though his chest no longer rises and falls and he is limp and pale and devoid of the life he holds and fights for. Hyrule won’t let himself believe anything else.)

Doing nothing isn’t an option. So, Hyrule takes a deep breath and steels himself. Using magic that isn’t truly there is always excruciating (he would know, he has done it more times than he’d like to admit). But he’ll live. And most important of all, so will Legend.

The rain beats down and the thunder still rolls across the plains. Hyrule turns his face up into it, eyes closed, allowing it a moment to wash the blood from him, the fear. Lightning flashes so bright he can see it through his eyelids.

And in one swift movement he reaches out and places his hands on Legend’s chest. 

Usually, magic pours out of him, an effortless waterfall of the power that fills his very being. This time he drags it out kicking and screaming, forcing it through his veins, scraping as it goes. It shoots through his trembling fingertips, hot and agonizing, and Hyrule directs it into Legend. Every little bit of it.

He will give everything until that heart beats again. Even down to the last drop of magic. 

His body protests, desperately trying to hang on to the fading shreds of power, shrieking in warning. Hyrule’s vision swims with shades of light and darkness. The rushing in his ears drowns out even the thunder. Everything hurts. His insides are on fire, his veins burning up, his head pounding out the rhythm of his erratic heartbeat. 

Let go, everything within him screams at him, begs him. Stop this before you lose everything.

He cries out, sharp and strangled and hoarse, face upturned to the sky. The rain is like molten lava now, yet he shivers beneath its touch. His world has narrowed to nothing except this – pain and the goal he endures it to achieve. 

Not much longer now and he will have no choice but to succumb to the rising darkness.

It comes like the onward march of life, inevitable and terrifying. Hyrule battles against it.

Not yet. I can’t stop yet.

Come on, Legend. Breathe!

The chest beneath him jolts and spasms. Someone begins to cough, hacking and breathless. A slumbering heart flutters to life.

Hyrule drags open his eyes. A pair of sharp blues meet his hazel, blinking dazedly at him. 

“R-rulie?” 

Hyrule lets out something between a sob and a laugh.

It worked. Oh, thank Hylia, it worked!

“H-hey Ledge,” he slurs, voice thick with exhaustion and remnant pain. His body still aches, phantom agony snaking up his limbs. 

You pushed too hard, it whispers, in his veins and in his head. He ignores it.

It’s nothing he doesn’t already know. And to be honest, he doesn’t care. Legend is alive, and that’s all that matters. 

“What happened?” Legend glances around, pupils dilating slightly as he tries to comprehend the rain-drenched destruction around him. Then, he looks back at Hyrule, taking in his undoubtedly sorry state. “Rulie did…did you...” 

He drags his gaze up to meet his once more, something broken within them. It makes Hyrule startle slightly. He has never seen Legend look like that before. So open and vulnerable, so hopeful, yet so sad.

“Did you save me?”

Hyrule gives him a shaky smile. “I couldn’t just let my best friend die.”

Legend swallows, throat bobbing with the effort. “But…but your magic…”

Hyrule leans forward and puts a hand on his shoulder. The ground tilts threateningly in response. It won’t be long and he’ll be lying down beside Legend. 

Ah, well. A nap sounds nice anyway.

“I’m…I’m okay, Ledge. It’ll replenish. It’s not the first time I’ve done something l-like this.”

Legend just stares at him for a moment. Then, he lets his head fall back into the mud with a defeated splash. A shaky chuckle escapes from cracked, bloodied lips. But it is a triumphant sound, a declaration that he is back, that he is alive.

“You idiot.”

The urge to lay down is too strong to deny any longer. With a trembling sigh, Hyrule settles down beside his brother, cringing a bit as the chilly mud clings to his battered body. His hand travels down to find Legend’s and he entwines their fingers, smiling a bit as he realizes his grasp is warm. 

It had been growing cold just a few moments ago. And Legend is all flame and fire, all blinding light that can’t be put out. It isn’t right for him to look and feel like ice.

“You’re the idiot who almost died on me,” he mumbles, scooting a little closer. “Don’t you dare do that again.”

Legend gives his hand a weak squeeze. For a long moment he is quiet and Hyrule begins to drift off in the serene embrace of the dwindling rain. When he speaks his voice is hardly above an exhausted, strained whisper. But Hyrule hears it all the same.

“Thanks, Rulie. I owe you one.”

And as Hyrule fades away, he smiles.

He’d do it again. A thousand times, he would do it again.

[celira]

day 25

She wondered too, you know. She wasn't an idiot. The more people asked her how come God, her deadbeat half-rate Most Divine of the Divine father, of all people, hadn't been able to bring her back more completely, the more she circled the drain. 

Kiriona was not here to circle the drain. She was here to finally get to fucking use her hard-won status for…something. Anything. A consolation prize for being partway alive.

So when Mumfucker Prime had the gall to keep looking at her askance after the most frigid bitch of the century had disappeared with her– with Harrow, who somehow had finally gotten whacked back into the proper body and then promptly buggered off– anyway, it got on her last deadened nerve. Which is why it made perfect sense to whip around and demand, “What, you could’ve done it better?”

Pyrrha’s face blanked. “Done what, kid?”

“Don’t call me that. Done better with–” she gestured– “this.”

“‘Course not.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“What do you think I’m looking at you like?”

“Like– I don’t want your fucking pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” Pyrrha said levelly. “I do wonder what John’s endgame is.”

“What?”

“You’re not– well. He’s not delivering a perfect body to the grave."

“What.”

“If you don’t want pity, don’t get mad when someone’s straight with you. I’ve said it before: he’s done the bare minimum. Why?”

And if that didn’t fucking taste like ashes in her mouth, the idea of her tattered soul being a glorified meatsack propeller and not much else, she didn’t know what else could. Why did she try? Why would anyone make the mistake of engaging Pyrrha Dve and her myriad of experience being a wrecking ball?

Pyrrha was looking at her closely. “It’s a raw deal, kid, but it’s not on you. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of this.” 

Kiriona didn’t bother pushing back this time, and she didn’t want to think about why.