#quivering

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2025 No.5

Prompt: Quvering

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: He won’t let a little thing like a blizzard stop him from finding you.

The snowstorm howled like a wild animal, tearing through the trees. It drowned out everything—sight and sound. Daryl’s boots crunched against the frozen ground as he pushed forward, his breath clouding in the frigid air. He hadn’t seen you since the storm rolled in, and panic gnawed at the edges of his already frayed nerves. He’d been tracking the faintest sign—your bootprints, half-buried—for what felt like hours.

“C’mon, girl. Where the hell are ya?” He muttered, pulling his poncho tighter around his shoulders. His gut twisted tighter with every step. You couldn’t be dead. You couldn’t. 

Then he saw it. A slumped shape against a half-fallen tree, nearly hidden under a drift of snow. He squinted, already moving faster than before, fueled by the hope that it could be—

“Y/N!” Daryl’s voice cut sharp through the wind. He raced toward you, the snow like a current that fought his every step. Dropping to his knees beside you, he brushed the snow from your face with shaking hands. Your lips were blue, your body quivering so hard it seemed like your bones might rattle apart.

“Shit, no, no, no.” His voice cracked as he slipped an arm beneath you, hauling you against his chest. You were limp, even your breath too frozen cloud. “Don’t ya dare die on me.”

He stripped off his gloves, pressing your frozen hands to the warmth of his chest. Damn you. He’d told you to wear your own pair. His own were slid onto your hands with quick movements that he wished could be softer. But there was no time for tenderness. 

The storm whipped at his back, stinging his skin, but he didn’t care. You were the priority. He could turn to ice if shielding you bought you even one more minute. 

“Hey! Ya hear me?”

He adjusted his crossbow over his shoulder and lifted his poncho to maneuver you beneath it before he scooped you up, cradling you close. You whimpered faintly, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Relief surged through him, but he knew it was merely a small victory. He still needed to get you back home. 

“Good girl. Stay with me.”

With every step back toward Alexandria, his heart pounded louder in his ears. Every few beats, he bent his head, whispering over and over like a prayer against the storm.

“I got ya. You’re safe.”

[sabeedraws]

whumptober 5 quivering

oh, Eddie Brock is drenched to his bones? that’s just his regular state of being

[callaeidae3]

Whumptober2025 Day 5 - Quivering

[khanhhaiz]

dr.shark tho……

[344j3diaz]

a joint nde in which they potentially both think the other might be dead......the possibility of a will mention has never been more real......

[alexandenigtscreations]

Inktober/Whumptober Day 5: Quivering

Featuring my favorite twink, Link, in the game Tears of the Kingdom. I just like the idea of Link, newly recovering after loosing his arm, and his health, just trying to get his bearings in the sky islands. The master sword in ruins, his arm a loaner from another undead king, infested with gloom and woefully underdressed for the exposure in the sky islands. Also the stewards are nifty, but I'd imagin abysmal company.

Pen and ink with watercolor, some additional pigmentation in clip studio paint.

[spectralgecko]

[assortedcriminality]

Scared Of The Dark - no. 5

quivering | dream journal | phobia

CW: trauma, scars, panic attack

Night. Darkness. Silence. Tears. Blood, running down their skin, seeping through their fingers, unstoppable, they were alone, they were never getting out, they were going to die here-

Hero jolted awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. One hand clutched at the covers while the other pressed against their chest, as if it could calm their out-of-control heart. As always, their room was as bright as day, littered with a dozen lamps that they never turned off. A sound machine sat on their bedside table, filling the unbearable quiet with constant white noise. Hero’s breath was unsteady, their body quivering—just like it had every night in that godforsaken place. They tried to still themself, to remember that the basement was long gone, they had escaped it, it was behind them forever. 

Slowly, Hero lifted their arms in front of them and examined them for injuries. All they found was dozens of pale marks, looping and criss-crossing over their skin like rivers. They felt under their shirt and were almost comforted by the thick line of scar tissue they felt along their side. No cuts. No blood. Just old scars, physical reminders of the horrors they’d been through. They were all too aware that they’d have to carry them around for the rest of their life. 

Hero sighed, finally feeling the terror lessen. If their panic had started at the ceiling, it now sat a foot above the carpet. They cast a look around the room. They had arranged it in such a way that there was no possible method for someone to hide in it, lurking, unseen. It looked exactly the same as it had when they went to sleep a few hours ago. They took a few deep breaths, focusing on the lights and the noise. It was over. They had gotten out. They were okay. They couldn’t hurt Hero anymore. 

“They can’t hurt me anymore,” Hero repeated in a whisper, wrapping their arms around themself. “They can’t hurt me ever again.” 

They lay down and closed their eyes, consoled by the warm orange-red glow of the lights through their lids. 

Until the glow, along with the noise, vanished, plunging Hero into a black void of pure terror. Alone. Silence. Darkness. 

“Oh, but can’t I?”

@macknus @whumplicity @whumpwritinglover222