#tw arrow wound

[karoviesart]

This has been sitting in my folders for a bit. it is meant to go with a fic- but life hasn’t allowed me and @colibrie to finish cleaning it up yet <3 sooooo you get the art for now <3 (no permanent mcd intended)

[triforce-of-mischief]

Febuwhump Day 14: Blood-stained Tiles

warnings: blood, arrow wound, decapitation, death

this is a followup to day 11 (alt 8): killing game

[mybeautifulbeautifuleternal]

The roar of disbelief and anger that Daemon let out was loud and heartbreaking. It was the second sign that something had happened to you. Daemon wouldn’t have sounded so sad for anyone else on the battlefield. The first sign was the sharp pain that hit your leg. It was Daemon’s yell that had you dropping to the ground, finally registering the wound. You hadn’t thought much of the pain at first but that yell..

The arrow was still sticking out of your leg and you didn’t have the time or the supplies to remove it. Instead, you painfully made your way to your feet and started to move your way from the fighting. You knew that Daemon wouldn’t stop until he reached your side unless he knew you were safe. However, he was needed on the field — he was one of, if not the best, warrior in the realm. They wouldn’t be able to finish taking the Stepstones and kill the Crabfeeder without him.

Finally back at the boats, you collapsed on the sand. Your leg was on fire but you were in one of the safest places on the island. If you weren’t safe here, that meant nearly everyone else was dead and then it didn’t matter where you were.

Lying prone on the ground, you watched as the sky’s colors began to swirl together. The clouds today looked gorgeous but that could just be because they reminded you so much of Daemon’s hair. They were sooooo pretty…

Time had had lost all meaning for you when Daemon appeared above you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but you liked looking at his lips as they moved. They were so pretty too. Just like his hair. So pretty.

Something was shaking you a lot, sending the ringing in your head clamoring. It was distracting and it really hurt. You wished they’d stop. You tried to tell them that but you couldn’t get your tongue to move. Or was it your lippsss…

When you next opened your eyes, you quickly shut them again. The headache was gods near deliberating and the rocking of the sip wasn’t helping. You were pretty sure the only reason you didn’t barf was because there was nothing in your stomach to come up.

“It’s ok, issa jorrāelagon. It’s all gonna be ok. You’re gonna be ok,” Daemon kept uttering such words as he bent over you. He placed a small kiss on your forehead then buried his head in your shoulder, his hand a vice around yours.

Painfully, you turned your head to bump your chin into the top of his head, breathing in the scent of battle that still lingered on him. “…it’s over?”

“Of course it fucking is. He was the one who fucking shot you. The fucking cunt wasn’t gonna live after that,” he sounded offended that you doubted him but he still didn’t raise his head or relax his hand.

“Good. Back home then?” You carefully started to flex everything, trying to see if anything but your leg and your head hurt. There was nothing but the general ache that you now associated with the aftermath of battle. Good.

“Driftmark. I don’t want to chance moving you further than I have too and Corlys offered you a spot. He saw it happen and he’s pretty sure that Laenor was the actual target. He sends his thanks and his fastest ship,” Daemon finally sat up, carefully swatting you. “Stop moving you brat and just ask me. The only injury you have is the arrow wound in your leg and probably a headache from blood loss.”

“Definitely a headache,” you shifted your hands around, twining your fingers through his.

“Want something to drink?” He had already started to stretch out to grip the pitcher behind him.

“Only if you lay with me. I don’t want to be alone,” sitting up, you took a sip of whatever was in the cup Daemon held for you.

“Of course. For as long as you’d like,” Daemon moved you about to make room for his broad figure.

“…not too long. You reek,” you started to giggle helplessly, Daemon starting to wiggle his fingers against your side.

“Say that again, I dare you,” he growled the playful threat against the skin of your throat, scraping his teeth down the curve of it.

“I wish, my dragon. But probably not the best idea when we’re still covered in blood and guts with my leg having a new hole through it,” Daemon finally settled back, carefully pulling you tight against his side.

“Something to look forward to then.”

“Promises, promises.”

@whumpuary

[onmyo-jin]

Whumptober fill for day 3: "impaled" in which Boya has escaped, and gets shot with an arrow, and is generally very unhappy

This part of the wip doesn't immediately follow up after day 2!

Climbing the walls he has walked so many times on patrols has never been this hard. The Circle still binds him, calls him, has its claws inside of him, tearing, ripping– he can break the spell, with time, with meditation, with qi that he cannot spare right now as he watches for the patrol above him to pass by.

Boya has never thought to wonder how Shasheng Shi made it inside their sacred walls, not just past the walls, but deep inside their perimeter. He hasn't the energy to spare for it now, but resolves to ask him about it when he sees the man again (*if* he sees the man again).

"Man the walls! Man the walls!! Archers to battle positions!" There's another alarm, more insidious, something that yanks at the hooks the spell still has in his qi.

The first alarm has been sounded already, set off as soon as Boya broke free. The second joins it now, and, exactly as they should, as Boya trained them to, the patrol rushes for the tower with its high vantage point, and the arrow staches it contains. Which leaves this bit of wall empty, and mostly unwatched for the brief moments it takes the guards to run to their position. Once there they will have an excellent view of the wall, the courtyard, and the stretch of green rocky fields cleared of forest and growth for exactly this reason. 

Boya gives up on stealth, and *runs*, climbing the last steps quickly, and then faces the great gap of darkness outside the walls. He doesn't hesitate, there's no *time* to hesitate, and he swings himself up the ledge, and down the wall. The jump is steep, but not impossible for a man in good condition. And for someone not trying to do this sneakily, in the dead of night.

He makes it, but it's far from elegant, and air escapes from his lungs. He tucks and rolls and he can only hope he was fast enough, silent enough–

The ground is suddenly closer, not at his feet, but at his knees when he looks down. The fire-in-the-wrong-place, the pain that makes all other aches and hungers seems absent, unimportant: an arrowhead, slick with his own blood, sticks out of his thigh.

Distantly Boya wonders if someone got a lucky shot, or if someone actually *aimed* to slow him down... no, unlikely. If any demon escapes their orders are shoot to kill.

He tries to stand again– he has to keep moving, he cannot be found now, *shoot to kill* is the order– and manages to move one leg. His good leg. The other leg is on fire, it must be, melting like metal, going up in smoke like paper money, like– Boya blinks, and looks down again. It's still there, leg and arrowhead both. It's worse than anything he's felt before, and forcing himself to stand only makes it worse. But Boya does it: he stands, and he limps on into the forest, that must surely catch fire from all the heat blazing through his leg, with every step of weight that he puts on it, has to move through it, has to *let go* of the tension to take a step with his good leg–

[gryphonlover]

Whumptober 2023 Day 15

Prompt: makeshift bandages

Victim: Sky

Words: 651

Notes: I'm going to say that technically hands count.

Twilight and Warriors found him. He'll be fine, I promse!

Okay, so, he was currently in the middle of nowhere, didn't have any of his supplies with him, and his leg was bleeding a concerningly large amount of blood. 

This was not how he wanted to spend his day off.

The original plan had been to send Sun a letter and treat himself to some good food and sleep, maybe even a drink or two if Twilight was in the mood to go out to the tavern with him later. What had ended up happening was drastically different. He'd had the time to drop off the letter and then accidentally discovered a human trafficking ring and taken down the men in charge.

They wouldn't be touching any more children any time soon.

The good news was that enough of the children were familiar with the area and were largely unharmed, so their escape had been successful due to Sky being able to… take care of… the perpetrators.

Unfortunately, he was now very lost and losing more blood than he'd like to see outside of his body. 

Stupid traffickers and their stupid arrows.

He took a deep breath and settled his hands on the shaft of the arrow, braced himself for the pain, and snapped it in half as close to the entry point as he dared. He clenched his jaw, the remnants of a scream trying to pry itself out of his mouth.

He allowed himself some time to breathe, counting as he did so in the way that Zelda always did when he woke up from another nightmare. What he wouldn't give to have her here now, her soft voice in his ears and her gentle touch pushing against the blood leaking out steadily.

He tightened his grip around the wound. She wasn't here now, though. He was by himself and he needed to remember his first aid training so he didn't bleed out all alone before their child was born. 

Blood loss made it surprisingly hard to think, though. 

What he did remember was put pressure on the wound, don't pull it out, tell someone to get help. 

Well, his hands were shaking but doing a decent job at applying pressure around the arrow. He definitely wasn't pulling it out, and he couldn't exactly remove it correctly since he didn't have any supplies with him and was also wounded person in question. Getting help would be… he didn't want to think about it through the haze the pain was wrapping his awareness in, but it was currently his highest priority.

The problem was that he had no idea how to get help in the first place. He couldn't call for his loftwing because he was in the wrong time period and he couldn't get up and walk because that was a horrible idea and he preferred to keep his leg, thank you very much.

He decided that he couldn't really do anything except stay calm and not bleed to death while he waited for his brothers to find him. He hoped that it wouldn't take too long because he was starting to feel ill, like he'd run too far for too long on the Surface.

His perception of time was quickly discarded in the fogginess that was overtaking his brain and forcing him to spend all his energy applying pressure to the wound and breathing through the pain and anxiety.

Everything kind of just… started blurring together after a while. He sat in that hazy, dizzy state struggling to remain focused on keeping his hands from shaking. He was losing his grip, but too afraid of what would happen if he let go to give up yet.

Then there was something on his hands, prying them off, pressing against his leg far harder than he had been, the pain washing away that last bit of consciousness he had left and knocking him into the dark sleep he'd been resisting.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Bigfoot shot an arrow at my foot accidentally. The wound was minor, so I asked one of my uncles to give me a Band-Aid.

[serickswrites]

This Is Gonna Hurt

Warnings: blood, wounds, arrow, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

Villain limped towards the med bay, stumbling any time they put any weight on their right leg. The leg throbbed with each beat of their heart. The swath of bandages they wrapped around their leg was stained red and was no longer stabilizing the arrow that Hero had shot them with.

Villain cursed as they stumbled once more, nearly falling on their injured leg. They threw themself to the side to avoid landing on the leg.

Supervillain poked their head out from a nearby room. "What's with all the noise?" They frowned at Villain.

"Hero shot me. With an arrow," they said through clenched teeth as they used the wall to stand. "Who the fuck uses arrows?"

"Hero apparently." Supervillain offered Villain their arm. "Let's get you to the med bay and get you cleaned up."

Villain gratefully leaned on Supervillain. "We gotta get the arrow out."

"I know." Supervillain helped Villain climb up on the exam table. "This is gonna hurt. A lot."

Villain swallowed. "I know. Just do it." They braced against the table.

"I can give you something for the pain," Supervillain offered.

"I metabolize painkillers too quickly. You know that. Besides my body is already trying to heal around the arrow. You need to pull it out. Now."

Supervillain nodded grimly. They put one hand on Villain's leg and the other on the arrow. "On the count of three then. One," and they yanked the arrow out of Villain's leg.

Villain screamed as the arrow tore through their flesh once more. Screamed and sobbed, but realized he worst of it was over. Their body could heal properly now. And soon they would be out of pain.

"Thank you," they said breathlessly to Supervillain.

"No problem. What do you say we make a plan to get Hero back, eh?" Supervillain smiled. "Meet me in my office once you can walk again."

[landonkirbyappreciation]

insp.

[hurtcomfortguaranteed]

In The Almighty Johnsons 1x01, Axl is shot with an arrow by a vindictive goddess, and his big brothers rush to his side!

[reflections-of-mobius]

@emeraldtied asked:

"You're not meant to look like that." // for murk or whomever you'd like~

[Blood, blood, and some more blood! | Accepting!]

"H-huh?" Murk's head slowly turned towards the blue hedgehog- his eyes slowly dilating. He'd been caught in the middle of a mugging- a few mobians trying their luck at taking the rings of 'a weaker mobian'...he'd let them rough up his false body,- a split-second penance that he willingly served out- but now, when he'd thought they were gone...

"---don't come any closer...!" He was still in the shadows of the alleyway. He still had a few seconds- so long as the hero didn't move--- he'd thought it was safe. He'd thought it was safe- his wounds were recovering in the darkness, inky black smoke flowing from each injury- falling like a fog-bank to the ground, where it rolled. "I know I shouldn't look like this, but- I'll be fine."

He'd already learned by now that the hero seemed to have had no encounter with one of Murk's alternates before- but that didn't stop the terror that laced his heart.

Just leave-- that was all he wanted. He moved to pull himself further into the darkness, feeling his disguise falter. Let me deal with this on my own-- go be a hero somewhere else--- words he felt catching in his throat.

"--Leave. Please." His voice had tapered into a nearly broken whisper.

[alterkrystal]

Goretober Day 29: Arrows "Why's she still standing? Oh, the answer is simple. You can't kill what's already DEAD." ----------------------------- Yep, a while ago I decided what Kizuki is now. She's a Ghost, though how she died won't be explained until later on. But it isn't from the arrows.

And fun fact: This is the only character from last year's Goretober that I'll draw for this year. All the others I drew were OCs I never showed before, and some were from my friend, who gave me permission to draw his characters.

Kizuki belongs to me.

[red-viewe]

general lilia x reader thoughts🔫

COLORED TEXT IS FAE LANGUAGE (tw metions of blood and war) lilia is tall here btw

(Part 2)

Lilia Vanrouge was a name known far and wide, infamous for his metals and successful attacks on humans, he quickly became the queen's most trusted aid. You've heard many stories about the man, being the owner of a bar located near the borders between briar alley and your country, you prayed that the war wouldn't come near you. You heard stories from retired soldiers who've come to your bar, and many would share stories and tips on surviveming against a fae. You thanked each soldier for their stories and made a promise to yourself that you would never hurt anyone with them hurting you first. These days were peacful and simple, and you liked it that way.

You quickly closed the bar at 10pm, quickly walking home into the woods after a busy day. You heard news from passing civillains that the faes attacked north of your village, not a good thing' I should temporarily somewhere else, before the war reaches here.' You quickly approached your home, but your heart dropped and you paused.

Why the fuck was there a dead guy on the middle of your sidewalk?

The man had long dark hair with red highlights and was in armor you haven't seen before and was very clearly bleeding out.

....Damn it

If only one of your year revolutions wasn't 'Stay true to your promises', you probably would have ignored the body. But with a badly written medical book, alcohol and bandages, you successfully wraped this man's wound and stoped the bleeding. ' Is he a fae?' Of course the fuck he is, y/n. His ears weren't round and the arrow was iron.

'But what do i do now?' Bored, tired amd temped to sleep, you decided against it to fall asleep, but hours of working as a barista can do stuff to people.....

---

Author's note

lemme know if i should continue this

[serickswrites]

Do Unto Others

Warnings: blood, wounds, injury, arrow, shot by an arrow

Whumper stalked through the woods, keeping close behind their quarry. They had spotted their prey just over an hour ago and knew they would make the perfect mount for their home. Or perhaps they could keep their prey for a time, learn more about the prey before making a mounted piece. 

Whumper stopped moving, remaining hidden in the shadow as the prey suddenly froze. They turned in circles trying to see Whumper. Whumper smiled as they remained hidden from sight. This prey was smarter than others had been. Had made for a good hunt. And now it was time to end it. 

Whumper raised their bow and drew and arrow. They took a breath and loosed the arrow. A blood-curdling scream filled the clearing as the arrow pierced through their prey’s shoulder. Whumper frowned. They had missed their target. 

As they bounded forward, they realized perhaps it was a good mistake. They had the option to keep the prey for a time like this. They regarded the prey with a certain coldness as it thrashed on the ground, desperately trying to pull the arrow from its shoulder. 

“PLEASE!” Whumpee screeched, their hands already covered in blood. “HELP! ANYONE! HELP!”

Whumpee scrambled back and away from Whumper, desperately trying to get away without jostling the arrow in their shoulder. “HELP!”

“Now, now, none of that.” Whumper said as they kicked at Whumpee. 

Whumpee howled with pain as Whumper’s boot connected with their injured shoulder. “PLEASE! I....I...I won’t tell anyone.”

Whumper began to grin. They pinned Whumpee with their boot, hand immediately going to the arrow in Whumpee’s shoulder. Whumpee’s blood began to cover their hands. This was the most excitement they’d had in a while. “There’s no one to tell, little one,” Whumper said as they twisted the arrow. 

Whumpee’s wails of pain were cut off as they suddenly went limp, the pain clearly too much to keep them conscious. “You’re going to be fun,” Whumper said as they tossed Whumpee over their shoulders like previous mounts. “We’ll see how long you last,” Whumper murmured as they began to make their way to their cabin, an extra pep in their step. 

[mitsvriii]

Hate

TW’s: pure angst, hurt no comfort, cursing, death, detailed wounds

Pairings: Wanderer x reader

Word Count: 360+

Why? Why did you have to take that arrow for him? He would’ve gladly token it and survived….so why did you?…

“You’re an idiot. You’re a fucking idiot”, he laughed bitterly as he cradled your now dead body. It had been instant, after all, no human can survive an arrow to the heart.

“I hate you-I fucking hate you. Why couldn’t you be selfish for once in your life. I-“ he could’ve finish without a sniffle, harshly wiping away the tears that were brimming in his eyes.

He could only stare down you, one of your lifeless hands holding his. He felt a lump grow in his throat. The last thing you two did was argue. It was about something stupid that he failed to recall, although he was pretty sure it was about him erasing himself which wasn’t so stupid when you thought about it.

He had chased you outside of Sumeru City, grabbing your wrist and stopping you both. You must’ve seen the hilichurl get ready to shoot with the way your eyes widened. So you naturally pushed him.

He didn’t know if you had forgotten that he could take it or if you just acted on instinct. He believed it was the latter, although now of that mattered now.

Wanderer blinked as he saw his tears fall onto your corpse frantically. He pulled you close to him, your head lolling back lifelessly. He sobbed, burying his head in your neck, grasping onto your hand.

He let out a pained cry as he rocked you. You were alive, you had to be. This was just some sort of…delusion. But it wasn’t. He would find that out as your body went cold as ice on a few minutes. And he would sob again, praying to every archon to bring you back.

But none of them would work because they couldn’t bring you back if they tried. You had died, proving you loved him even though it wasn’t your intention to prove it. While you died, most likely thinking he hated you.

He hated you for doing what you did. But soon it would be reflected on that he hated himself for not protecting you.

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *3*

! TW GORE !

The members of the Justice League Dark have seen many things. But nothing was so dangerous and stupid at the same time, as these laws.

Constantin was the first to hear about them. While he was dealing with more supernatural threats than normal over the last two month. After the last five being he banished - who all have screeched about white monsters who stole him -, he couldn't ignore the pattern.

He didn't get an exact answer, to who this him was, but Zatanna and Captain Marvel also heard some rumors.

After some time, they found out about the Ghost Investigation Ward and... if they didn't do something quickly there would be war. And a war with the dead would be a losing war.

Who ever they took seems to be important to the realm, so they could possibly retaliate any moment.

So while Zatanna, Superman, Aquaman and Green Arrow where discussing these laws with the president, the rest of the Justice League would summon the Ghost King to offer negotiations.

All the magicians had felt when the tyrant Pariah Dark had been dethroned. And it had been like there was fresh air for the very first time. The new king was rumored to be kind and fair, but also fiercely protective. So hopefully he would be open to talk.

They even used a form of summoning that was more of an invitation, so that he could choose not to speak to them. It wouldn't be good to further anger the realms or their king.

While they tried to summon the High King of all the realms, the gentle Tug that they sent his way was answered with a desperate hold.

It was hard to hold the spell with the being clawing metaphorically at the line. But after a far to long time the pressure eased and a rift in reality opened.

A body landed with a dull thud in the middle of the summoning circle.

Everyone in the room has seen something horrific, but even someone as stoic as the bat, seemed to be sick.

In the middle of the watchtower laid a boy, maybe sixteen. His right eye was lifeless, despite the fact that he was looking around. The other one was missing and the eyesocket was bleeding sluggishly in green. His white hair had flecks of green in it. The right hand seemed to be broken, but more concerning was his left hand. Half of his pinkie finger was missing, as was the entirety of his middle finger. The rest of his fingers were without nails. And then there was his left foot... only attached by a thin strap of flesh and muscle. But all of that was nothing in comparison with the Y-shaped wound in his torso.

All of it was so distracting that they at first all missed the crown of ice above his head. The realms had screamed at them to get their king back.

As fast as they could the heros rushed the boy king into the medbay. At least Flash was here, so that they could get everything ready asap.

And Danny?

Danny was finally able to close his eye and drift into unconscious without white, orange or teal suits hovering over him.

[youngfcs]

— Poppy Drayton | The Rising Hawk gif pack.

By clicking the source link or [ THIS LINK ], you’ll find #117 gifs of Poppy Drayton (1991) in the movie The Rising Hawk (2019). Poppy was born in England, UK and is of English descent, so please cast accordingly. All made by me from scratch, so please, don’t repost or claim them as your own! You can use them in editions, or crackships, but please credit me (@youngfcs). If using, like or reblog ❗

[ ! ] TW: arrow, archery, wounds, bruises, sword, war, fight, blood, hatchet, food, kissing, death.

[ Don’t include them in any gif hunt, don’t crop these into gif icons without my permission, don’t use them in any smut threads/rps or for taboo roleplays and don’t use to rp the celebrity itself ]