#and it just feels like a bleeding wound that can't be stitched closed to heal

[the-mighty-nappa]

random personal ramblings below. continue at your own risk

I'm starting to realize why I haven't been able to be horny with my partners outside of the occasional teasing and joking for the past while and I have no fucking idea how to deal with it lmao..... ugh. tl;dr summary is that the more I unearth all the shit I buried before I transitioned the more I realize that what I thought was my main kink is turning out to be uuuuuugh something of a core that I can't function without. now both of my partners are into only specific aspects of it and my main one has started wearing padding when I request it if she wants to cum but like. i'm not okay with having it piecemeal, especially with my main partner (the one I would like to marry in the future) who is into exactly 1% of it and nothing else. It's also been the cause of depression starting again but I just do not know how to bring this entire topic up with her. I'm losing it and the lack of intimacy from all this has been making me feel like we're starting to drift apart, among other things.

[ddejavvu]

omg tyler owens x shy!reader where they got separated (in a storm or whatever you’d like) and reader is usually so hesitant on public PDA but tyler got hurt and the team is shocked to see reader freaking out over him and he’s just being so gentle and calm

feel free to change whatever 🫶🏼💕 thank you for putting the imagination into words so well!!!

Aftermath - Tyler Owens x Reader

come participate in tyler owens night !

You're typically less obnoxious about your relationship with Tyler Owens in front of his mass of fans, but Tyler isn't typically bleeding from a head wound, so today is different all-around.

One of the windows of his truck had broken, shattered and disappeared into the mass of swirling winds and debris, and an unfortunately sharp chunk of the mess had slashed Tyler across the forehead, leaving an open gash in its wake. Long but thankfully shallow, the cut drips deceptively copious amounts of blood down his face, and your fingers desperately try clearing it away.

"Baby, baby, I'm okay." He vows, keeping his voice low even though it's shaking. Perhaps his adrenaline junkie habits do have a ceiling.

"You're not okay," Your voice wobbles as if you yourself had been in the twister, instead of watching on his live stream as his head was cut open, "That- that thing could have hit your eye, it was so- so close, or it could have hit-" You devolve into deep, choking sobs, one that rip gasps from your throat and leave your heart pounding.

"Breathe." Tyler prompts you, taking your face in his shaking hands the way you're holding his, "Breathe. It didn't go through my eye. It went through my forehead, and it's just a little thing. It's gonna heal up just fine- just need some stitches. And I'll get the window fixed tomorrow, before anything else. 'Cause-" He breaks off, voice still shaky and hollow, "That's- that shouldn't have happened. My truck's supposed to be stronger than that."

"If it happens again," You fret, voice slowly strengthening as you muscle down your aching sobs, "If-"

"No, it's not- it's not gonna happen again." Tyler's hands squeeze your face gently, providing comforting pressure as he holds you steadily against him, "I'll test it myself. I'll- I'll bash the windows with a hammer or somethin', and- and make sure they won't break."

"Don't bash your windows with a hammer," You laugh, and it's a wet, barely-there sound, "That's- that sounds dangerous. And expensive."

"Okay." He nods, and you stare at each other in reverie, one coming off of the high of near-mortality and the other sponging away grief that had already taken up residence over the heart. Tyler is alive, he's injured but he's alive, and you'll reinforce the truck with solid steel if you have to, just to be sure a stray chunk of debris doesn't shatter the window again.

"Can- can you take a little break?" You ask Tyler, and you're not doing it on purpose, but you're pretty sure your eyes are stuck in puppy-mode, and it must be lethal, "I don't want you going back into a storm for- for, I dunno, a few weeks maybe. I just- let your head heal first, please?"

"Alright. Yeah, a- a break sounds nice," Tyler admits, grinning absently at you. You wonder if his body is out of its fight-or-flight response yet, "Maybe even a month? We'll see how the channel does, 'make sure we don't lose too much of an audience. We can pay the bills until then."

"Thank you," You breathe, inches away from Tyler's face as you drink him in, and you're unsure whether you're thanking him for stepping down and playing it safe, or whether you're thanking the universe for sparing him by an inch.

"Mm-hm," He nods, and you really can't tell whether he's talking to you or the universe either. Maybe a transcendent mix of both, but as long as there's still air in his lungs and fire in his eyes, you don't care too much about the details.

[vbecker10]

The Night Nurse (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part6 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, arguing between you and Loki, you being super awkward and Loki being oblivious, some swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot

Almost twenty minutes later then Loki typically comes to visit, he finally appears in the infirmary. You rush to him, throwing your arms around him as you pull the tall prince into a hug without even thinking. He doesn't respond, his body remaining stiff against yours. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-" you quickly apologize and take a step away from him, worried you've made him uncomfortable.

Just as suddenly, Loki puts his arms around you and pulls you back towards him. "I was just starting to enjoy that," he chuckles and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. He sighs contently as he relaxes into your embrace.

"I heard about what happened on the mission and I was so worried you had been hurt," you admit, resting your cheek against his chest. He moves one hand up and down your back slowly to comfort you and you shift your arms a bit higher, touching the middle of his back.

He winces when you move and you let go of him instantly, looking up with concern. "I'm afraid I am not quite as injury free as I appear," he says in a low voice. His illusion fades and you see a long, fairly deep cut on his right cheek. You reach out gently, touching his chin to move his head for a better view of the wound. He looks into your eyes and says, "There are a few others." You frown then take his hand quietly, leading him into one of the exam rooms.

You walk over to the tall cabinet in the room and start to gather the things you will need to clean and close his wounds. You turn towards him to ask him a question but your mind goes blank. Loki's standing with his back to you, taking off his dress shirt.

Why does he always need to take off his shirt, he's distracting enough with it on, you can't stop the thought from popping into your head. Oh... no, your thoughts shift immediately when you see a long, shallow wound on his back. He turns to face you and you see several bruises forming on his left side as well as a few cuts on his chest and stomach.

You frown again, feeling concerned by the number of injuries. "I'll start with the wound on your back first," you suggest, "Since it's the largest one."

He nods in agreement then sits on the table, facing away from you and you stand behind him. "I didn't mean to worry you," he says when you start cleaning the area. "I had no way to contact you in order to let you know I would be late tonight."

"Is that your way of asking for my number?" you ask as you start to prep the wound for closure. Oh my god, why would you say that? you scold yourself. He's literally bleeding and you think he's hitting on you or something.

"It was not," he says.

You physically cringe at his response, your only saving grace is that he can't see you. Very smooth dummy. First you force him into a hug and now you did whatever the hell that was, you think. What is the matter with you tonight?

"That is an excellent idea though. I would like to be able to speak to you without having to wait until you are working. Would that be okay?" he asks with a smile, turning to look over his shoulder.

"Stay still," you tell him gently, putting your hand on his shoulder so he doesn't move too much. "And, yea," you smile excitedly. "That would definitely be okay. Remind me when I'm done putting you back together."

"I will. I enjoy our talks," he says and you blush, again thankful he can't see you.

"Me too," you agree happily. Okay, so that wasn't a total disaster, you think with relief.

"And I appreciated the hug," he adds. "I wouldn't be opposed to another once you are finished."

"I think that can be arranged," you tell him as you finish closing his wound.

You pause just before you cover it with gauze and realize Loki is humming the annoying song from your favorite gum commercial. I wonder if he is humming it to distract himself from reading my mind or because it truly is stuck in his head again.

He chuckles knowing he has been caught and says, "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"Right?" you giggle.

When you finish you ask, "How does that feel?"

"Much better, thank you," he says over his shoulder. You turn away from him to clean up and gather a few more things to work on the rest of his injuries. He shifts on the table so he is facing forward and he smiles when you come closer again.

"None of these will need any stitches," you explain as you examine the cuts on his chest, side and stomach. "This one will though," you motion to the deeper wound on his right peck. You bring you tray closer and stand in front of him. Looking back towards the tray, you pick up a piece of gauze and your leg bumps into his knee when you move.

"I'm sorry," you tell him. You suddenly feel nervous being so close to him but unfortunately you will need to be a bit closer if you want to do the stitches properly.

"It's quite alright," he responds and you stand with your leg against his, cleaning the skin around his injury as gently as possible. You lean towards him, trying to keep as much distance as you can between the two of you. "Would this be better?" he offers as he spreads his legs then puts his hand on your lower back, pulling you closer.

"Yea," you manage to answer as you feel your face heat up. He doesn't remove his hand from your lower back and you reach for a tool on the tray but miss as you keep your eyes fixed on his wound. He hands it to you and you look up at him, "Thanks."

"I might as well be helpful," he smiles and you smile back.

Stop staring at his face, you tell yourself and you look down quickly. No, not better, you think when you remember you are standing between his legs. Focus, you remind yourself, you've done stitches hundreds of times on good looking guys. This isn't any different. Yes, okay, sure, he's way hotter then they are and he's easy to talk to now that he stopped being a jerk and sometimes he flirts with me... I think and he always smells really good even though I'm not sure what exactly he smells like but whatever, none of that means I can freak out now. I'm a professional.

He chuckles and you look up, your heart goes from fluttering to sinking quickly. He's laughing at my thoughts, you realize and take a step away from him but his hand on your back keeps you from going too far.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes and touches your chin with his other hand gently, trying to have you look at him. "I wasn't laughing at you for thinking those things."

You shake your head away from his touch and don't respond to him. Instead you tell him, "I can close this and your cheek then you should leave. It's late and I need to adjust the inventory so none of this looks like it is missing."

"Y/N," he says softly.

"You promised you would stop doing it, but you've been doing it all night," you say as you pick up the needle and begin to stitch his wound. "Haven't you?"

"I have," he answers, his hand dropping from your back. "I'm sorry-"

"Just stop," you interrupt him. "I'm so tired of hearing you say that." He touches your cheek and you move your head again. "I have to focus," you say without looking at him.

He sits quietly until you finish working on his chest. You concentrate on each stitch, trying to keep your mind clear but it only works for so long. I hate this... I don't want to be annoyed with him again. I understand that he can't always control his telepathy but it still feels like an invasion of my privacy, especially when he laughs at what I'm thinking about. It's awkward enough to have a crush on Loki, but for him to be able to look into my mind and see how I feel about him, it's so uncomfortable. Why can't he understand that?

When you are done he asks, "Will you let me speak now?"

"Fine," you agree and clean off the tray. You gather the garbage on a towel and turn to walk away from him.

"That can wait," he takes your wrist lightly to keep you from leaving. You nod, putting the items back down. "Y/N, I apologize for listening to your thoughts... again. I know I promised you I would refrain from doing it but it is becoming harder to keep it from happening accidentally," he tells you. He waits a moment and when you look at him he adds, "I think it is because I like you so much."

Your mouth falls open in shock and you are unable to speak as you process what he said.

He smiles nervously, "The closer I feel to you, the more often your thoughts simply appear in my mind. It has never happened to me with anyone else but I have never feel this connected to anyone. I greatly enjoy being around you and I wish to spend as much time with you as possible, preferably outside of the infirmary if that is okay with you."

You blink then ask, "You like me?"

He laughs, "Did I not state that clearly enough? Yes, Y/N, I like you very much and I don't think I would be wrong to assume you feel the same about me?"

"Yes, I mean no," you giggle nervously, "I mean..." you take a deep breath to steady your thoughts, "I like you too, I just wasn't expecting you to say all of that to be honest."

He puts his hand on your lower back again and you step towards him. "It is unfortunate you have not been able to read my mind then," he says with a smile, "Because I have done nothing but think about you as of late."

You blush again and look into his eyes but the cut on his right cheek catches your attention. "I really should take care of this, you tell him," touching just below the injury gently.

"You truly are a wonderful healer," he says quietly when you begin cleaning the wound.

"That's not what you called me the other night," you mumble then look at him. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No, you are right as usual," he says. "I spoke out in anger but you are the best healer who has ever treated me."

"I'm probably the only one who ever has," you joke and pick something else off the tray.

He touches your cheek and you look up again, "That does not mean you are not the best in this realm or any other."

"Stop trying to make me blush, I need to concentrate," you giggle. "I don't want to mess up your perfect face." He smiles but before he can reply you warn him, "Don't do that either. I'm going to start stitching now so no talking, smiling or being cute."

You work in comfortable silence, feeling Loki's eyes on you. You look away from his cheek and make eye contact then look back to what you are doing quickly. Biting your lip, you finish the last of the stitches and reach for the gauze. Loki hands it to you, he has been paying attention to your process and it makes you smile. You cut off a small piece of tape and your eyes drift to Loki's lips then back to his now closed wound. You place your tools back on the tray, remove your gloves then roll it away a bit.

You stand in front of Loki, his legs still on either side of yours, his hand slides ever so slightly up and down your back. Your chest is close to his bare chest and you allow your thoughts to wander for a brief moment.

Loki's other hand moves to the side of your neck, touching you lightly in the same place it rested in the image that was in your mind only seconds ago. He pulls you gently closer, your fingers graze his back and he smirks at you. "That was a very interesting little thought you had, darling," he says as his lips inch slowly closer to yours.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @msdjsg7 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @talesofadragon

[envysparkler]

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

It's Whumptober time! 🎃🎃 Prompts are currently closed; it's time for writing!

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.”

stician

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.”

unrefusable offer

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

purr

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.”

Shrike!verse

No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far."

geolocation

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

leash

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

no hard feelings

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on."

exhaust

No. 9: OBSESSION Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.”

unrefusable offer

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

cling

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.”

grave secrets

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part."

inhibition

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted”

the other wayne kid

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

haphephobia

No. 16: NECROSIS Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

Reconciliation

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

sink or swim

No. 18: REVENGE Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.”

Godfather

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?"

unrefusable offer

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

pretty robin

No. 21: BODY HORROR Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.”

leash

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

whiplash

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

blood of the covenant

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure |  “I never knew daylight could be so violent.”

favored

No. 25: SURGERY Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

hot wheels

No. 26: NIGHTMARES Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.”

paying dues

No. 27: VOICELESS Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

muzzled

No. 29: FATIGUE Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

padded cuffs

No. 30: RECOVERY Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

robin's roast

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well."

wibbly wobbly

Alt 3. Finding Old Messages

paying dues

Alt 4. Forgotten

we're all ghosts

Alt 5. Friendly Fire

burn at the stake

Alt 8. Regret

paying dues

Alt 9. Secrets Revealed

groundhog day

Alt 10. Shivering

the other wayne kid

Alt 11. Survivor's Guilt

unfinished business

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Taking Care of Injured Ellie•°

Like most things in life, Ellie's first response is to try and deal with it herself. So, it stands to reason that that initial reaction stays the same even when she's hurt.

On more than one occasion you've walked in on her stitching a bloody gash up herself with a dirty needle and some janky knotted thread.

Other times, you've seen her wrap up a scrape using ductape. Just ductape. No gauze. No fabric.

There's a reason Ellie doesn't help out at Jackson's infirmary after all. If she did, many people would get even more hurt by her contaminated ministrations than if they were just left alone.

See, because of Ellie's immunity she's developed a poor way of managing her own health and hygienic practices when wounded.

Her seeming to think that being immune to the undead infected makes her not susceptible to other things too, like human bodily infections.

Also, because she's immune she often charges into danger with less caution than the average, not immune person would.

Hence why, she gets more hurt. Being reckless with her life. Going in head first.

Because of the poor way Ellie patches herself up you've sort of become her own personal physician.

Even reading up on medical books in Jackson's library to better assist her.

And you being her nurse? Now she can't complain about that. Her always ready to make a joke about it.

"Hey, babe. Where's, uh, your sexy nurse costume?"

"Ellie, shut up. Tell me what's wrong. How badly hurt are you?"

"Yeah, I need some medical attention. I hurt myself pretty bad falling for you."

"Ellie, you're literally bleeding out onto the rug."

Being a bit touch starved (though she'd never admit it) she quite enjoys when you fuss over her and take care of her.

It reminds her that someone cares about her. That her life matters to the one she loves most of all.

Ellie may gripe whenever you tell her to rest and heal up (and she'll never agree to proper bedrest.)

She also may always downplay how hurt she is, cracking jokes and sugar coating gritty details as to how exactly she got so banged up.

Though she'll forever be grateful to you. For your gentle assistance and the soft, affirming words you say to her while cleaning her body up.

You sometimes catch her staring at you so intensely while you bandage her up.

Her green eyes piercing, unaffected by even the sting of the alcohol you rub into her raw wounds.

Ellie will still your treatment with a firm grip of her calloused hands and pull you close to her, fervent.

Crashing her lips against yours in a desperate attempt to make you understand how much you mean to her.

Hoping her eager mouth, parted and inviting, will make you feel her love beyond her lacking, stilted words.

You'll try to protest, your hands awkwardly searching to rest upon the parts of her body which aren't injured or bruised.

Ellie won't care.

Invading your mouth with her tongue and pulling your clothes up and aside to feel the warmth of your skin.

When overcome with need, the pang of a touched scrape or the press against a gash going completely unnoticed.

Ellie will bite your bottom lip and pull you beneath her. Her shirt already discarded from when you were cleaning the blood off her.

"E-Ellie, what about your injuries!?"

You'll squeak, her rough hands yanking your jeans down, slender pale digits finding purchase upon the flesh of your freshly bared thighs.

"I think this is more important, babygirl. Yeah?"

Ellie will rasp, sucking a no doubt vibrant mark along your neck.

What can she say? Whenever you play nurse for her it turns her on.

And though you worry about her wounds, it's not like you object for long.

Not when your beloved Ellie is alive and safe in your arms, cuts and all.

[fishsticksloser]

Hello! How are you?

If requests are still open(If I was somehow mistaken when I read open sorry ;-;) can I request Y/n as turtles s/o tending their wounds?

I mean, during the fights they get hurt, mostly after the movie

It's okay if you don't want to do that, you can ignore it <3

Have a nice day/afternoon/evening/night!

- 👾

Tending to Wounds

RotTMNT + gn!reader

Warnings: injuries, blood, angst, platonic fluff, swearing, alcohol but in the sense of cleaning wounds, not written as headcannons

A/N: Thank you for your request! ☺️ I hope you have a great day/afternoon/evening/night. I moved the order around because my idea for Donnie is... Very angsty... And long... Platonic fluff cause there's nothing saying whether you're dating or not in the drabbles so it's up to interpretation

Leo

Leo hissed as you applied pressure to a decently sized gash on his leg. He placed his hand over yours, a silent plea to be more gentle. Of course that wasn't optional as stopping the bleeding was more important.

"That was incredibly reckless." You grit, wiping away dirt and dried blood.

"I know- Fuck." Leo groans as you apply alcohol to the wound. "A warning would've been nice."

"You get a warning when you stop being reckless."

"I'm sorry..."

You start stitching him up, making sure your not hurting him too bad. You wrap up Leo's leg and start to take care of all the bloody supplies. You stop in front of Leo as he stared at his leg.

"Leo..." You sigh, placing your hand on his shoulder. "You're more important than you realize. You can't just keep throwing yourself out there like that and expect everything to be fine. Your brothers need you... I need you."

Leo reaches for you, pulling you towards him. He rests his forehead on your chest, you feel sobs rock through him. You gently rub his shell and the back of his neck, letting him fall apart peacefully.

Mikey

Mikey's leg bounces anxiously as you gather supplies. It wasn't that Mikey was badly injured, you could just tell that there was a lot. You settle in front of Mike and start to set up.

"Are you okay?" You ask, his knee bumping you. "I mean other than physically."

"Yeah." Mikey answers. "I just... I don't like this part."

"I'll be as nice as I can."

You clean up around the wounds with water, making sure there's nothing in them before you have to apply alcohol. You lean over him, trying to take his attention away from the cuts.

"I'm gonna need you to be the bravest you've ever been." I got this from a comic and :( /pos

You apply the alcohol. You glance at Mikey and see he has his eyes closed tightly. You pat the wounds dry and bandage them up.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" You gather the ruined supplies and throw them away.

"No..." Mikey squints in confusion. "I didn't even feel it."

Raph

Tending to Raph was pretty easy. He stayed very still and didn't pay attention, opting to talk instead.

"You know, there's this new...." Raph talked about the new teddy bear store opening, you zoned out, focusing on the cut on his arm.

He continued to ramble, very excitedly. Soon enough, he was all set. He looked over his bandages and started to leave before turning back to you.

"I should take you there sometime." Raph smiles.

"I'd love that."

Angst Below

Read At Your Own Risk.

Donnie

If you knew how bad it was going to be, you'd have set up before they brought him in. Raph carried Donnie into the lair, yelling for your help. He was quickly rushed to med bay, in and out of consciousness.

"What the hell happened?" You ask, applying pressure to the gash.

"I-I don't know!" Raph stumbles. "I turned around and he..."

"He lost his battle shell getting me out of the way..." Mikey sniffed. "It's my fault..."

"Mikey, it's not your fault." Leo held Mikey, his own tears rolling down his cheeks. "But, you can help, right?"

"It'll take a long time for his shell to heal..." You sigh, Raph hands you the rest of the supplies. "But yeah, I can do it. Can you all wait outside?"

They didn't argue, filling out of the room, slumped. You return to Donnie who lay on his stomach, giving you a clear view of his bleeding shell. You grabbed a pillow, resting it under his head and chest to make him comfortable before setting to work.

You now sat next to Donnie, holding his hand, your head resting against them. You feel Donnie's hand tighten around yours and you shot out of your seat.

"I feel like roadkill." He groans, stretching his limbs slightly.

"You kind of look it." You sigh. He turned to face you, humor dancing in his eyes. Donnie crossed his arm, laying his head on them. "Are you in pain? I can get you some meds if so."

"A little..." He yawns. "I think I'm okay right now." He looked around, seeing his brothers laying together on the floor, fast asleep. "How long have I been out?"

"A few hours." You get him some water, letting him soothe his scratchy throat. "You're okay now. Rest."

Donnie began to doze off again. You kissed his temple and turned off the lights, letting the 4 turtles sleep.

[that-basic-simp]

Blood & Bruises PT. II

Mizu x Fem!Reader Continuation of Part I. CW: Blood WC: 1.9k+ A/N: Thank you @oriiii1133 for requesting a second part! Also there are multiple changes in POV. Each change is labeled!

"Well, you're all healed now. You don't need me anymore," I chuckled.

"I can't thank you enough for all you've done," Mizu said as she was getting ready for her mission once more.

"Just promise me one thing, Mizu?"

"I know. Try to come back in one piece."

"Please. I-I don't know what I would do if you didn't come back."

"I'm sure you'd move on from me," she turned away.

Even though I couldn't really see her eyes that well, I could tell there was some form of yearning. That she wanted me to tell her that I would and could never move on from her. She would be right. I couldn't. Taking a step towards Mizu, I reached down and grabbed her hand, well, more of her fingers. Holding them lightly in my hands, I smiled down at how very feminine they were. I mean, yes, she's a woman, but they were nothing like a woman's. They were rough, calloused and there were some scratches and scars on them. When compared to mine, mine were soft and gentle.

"I don't think I could, Mizu."

She turned to face me, her head tilting to the side slightly. I giggled. She was cute when she was confused. Especially with her little head tilt. Letting go of her hand, I stepped away from her.

"Be safe, Mizu."

"You as well, Y/N," she said.

"Before you go," I tried to find a way to ask her.

Stepping towards me, she grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a hug. It was rare for her to initiate a hug. But there was something in this hug that I never felt before. Her hugs were usually light and careful. Now, they're tight and there is this lingering feeling when she removed herself from me. Like she didn't want to go. I didn't want her to go either, but if she must fulfill her hunger for revenge, she must go. I can't hold her back. No matter how I felt towards her.

"Y-You should be heading out. Y-You're losing light."

Mizu nodded and turned towards Ringo. I watched as the two of them walked away from my house. I was about to turn back and head inside, but a motion caught my attention, causing me to turn back. Facing Mizu, she was waving to me and so was Ringo. I smiled, some tears forming in my eyes as I waved back to them. They disappeared and I was left by myself once more, hoping and praying that Mizu would return safely. However, it would be my own safety I would need to worry about.

~Mizu's POV~

"Something doesn't feel right," I said to Ringo as we were walking back to Y/N's house.

"Well, you are bleeding more than normal."

"I thought you stitched up that wound."

"I did, but you're still bleeding."

I looked down and found there was a trail of blood splotches on the ground. I let out a sigh, but I knew we would be close to the house. But, something felt odd. The air was colder than it normally was, despite it being the middle of winter and where the snowstorms were the harshest. Quickly walking towards the house, my eyes widened with fear as my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. It began to pound against my chest that I instinctively grabbed my sword, removing it from its sheath. Rushing towards the house, the door was removed entirely and there was a stench of iron filling the air.

"Y/N?! Y/N?!"

I rushed further into the house and found there was blood splattered all over the floor, walls, and even the ceiling. I took in deep breaths, trying to control the fear that was slowly rising to where I could feel tears starting to form. What was I feeling? I had never felt this much fear for someone. Shaking those thoughts away, I slowly walked around the house. For all I know, the intruder could still be here. I heard rustling coming from the closet. Turning, I slid it open to find Y/N was sitting on the floor. There was a large gash in her stomach and her hand was soaked in blood.

"Y/N!" I yelled, sheathing my sword.

"A-Are they gone?" she whispered.

"I-I believe so," I said.

"You're safe," she breathed out, a smile on her face.

"You're not. Let me get you out of there," I carefully lifted her up and I walked her out of the closet.

Due to her blood loss, she immediately collapsed onto the ground.

"Y/N!"

I slowly laid her down and rolled her onto her back. Removing her hand that was covering the gash, it was pretty deep. It needed to be taken care of now.

"Why didn't you take care of it?"

"I-I needed to make sure they were gone before I could tend to myself," she winced.

"Stay right there. Ringo! Start making medicine!" I rushed out of the room and towards the kitchen.

I searched around for some needle and thread. My injuries would have to wait for now.

"What happened?" Ringo asked.

"I don't know, but Y/N has lost a lot of blood. And if I don't get that wound stitched, she will die. Will you have the medicine ready soon?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Master," Ringo caught my attention.

"Yes, Ringo?"

"Save her."

"Obviously I'm going to save her."

"No. Save her."

I nodded my head, walking back towards the room Y/N was lying in. Kneeling beside her, I removed her kimono, revealing the large, deep gash in her side. I took in a deep breath and raised the needle and thread. Carefully pushing the thread through the hole of the needle, I noticed my hands were trembling. I steadied myself and that was when I felt her hand on mine. I didn't care it was bloody, but it was starting to become cold.

"Mizu," she breathed out.

"Stay with me, Y/N," I said, putting the thread through the needle.

I started to stitch the wound, some small whines and whimpers coming from her due to the pain she was in.

"I know. I know. I-I'm sorry," I said.

"Mizu," she tried to get my attention.

"I-I'm trying my best, Y/N. I am not really great when it comes to this," I said, noticing the stitches were zigzagging haphazardly. I needed to restart them.

"I-I'm going to have to restart," I said, cutting the thread and removing it from the needle.

"You're safe," she sighed. Her breathing was starting to become shallow and uneven at times.

"Stay with me, Y/N," I said, getting more thread and about to push it through the hole of the needle.

She reached up and grabbed onto my hands, lowering them so she could find me.

"You're safe," she repeated. "B-Back...in...one...piece..."

"Y/N, don't speak. Focus on your breathing."

"BB-Before you ss-start," her eyes were starting to slowly blink now. She wasn't going to last the night if I didn't get this stitched.

"Shh. Please, Y/N," I said, a lump in my throat coming up and tears were stinging in my eyes.

"I j-just want you to know," her words were beginning to slur and jumble together, like she was about to fall asleep. "HH-How much I-I..."

"Y/N?"

"L-Lo...yo...M...zu..."

"Y/N?"

Her hand slipped from mine and fell onto the ground. Clenching my jaw, I took in a deep breath and calmed my nerves, my thoughts. Getting the needle and thread together, I stared down at the wound.

"I can't do this without you, Y/N," I said and began stitching the wound. "You showed me a lot of things that I never experienced. So you can't die on me now! Not until I've told you the same thing."

~Reader's POV~

My eyes blinked open and I found warmth nearby. Turning my head, there was a fire going and I had blankets covering me. Slowly sitting up, I let out a groan as pain started to pulsate in my left side. Removing the blanket, there was gauze wrapped around my abdomen. Lifting my head up, Mizu was sitting by the fire, beside me. She turned her head, a look of relief on her face as she turned her entire body to face me.

"You're alive," she whispered.

"B-Barely," I said.

"Here, some medicine," Mizu handed me a bowl with some broth and vegetables in it.

I slowly drank it and once it was finished, I handed the bowl back to her.

"Get some rest, Y/N."

"When did you get back here?" I asked, not remembering much of anything before this moment.

"About a few hours ago," she said. "You were in pretty bad shape. Do you recall what happened?"

"Some people came in and were looking for you. When they didn't find you, they tried to kill me."

"Did you fight back?"

"That was the only way I could defend myself."

"The blood splatter in this room."

"That was when I killed one of the guys who tried to kill me. The others fled, but when I was fighting the one, he got me pretty bad. I dragged his body outside and tried to clean things up, but my injury got too bad. From the blood loss, I was hallucinating and thought they came back to finish the job."

"Did you know it was me when I came here?"

"No. I thought I was hallucinating again. But," I reached over and brushed my fingers against hers. "You're really here."

"Get some rest, Y/N."

I laid back down and closed my eyes, feeling Mizu lay down beside me, keeping me safe in the night. When morning came, I was slowly moving around, under Mizu's supervision. I had to take medicine in the morning, at lunch, and at dinner time.

"How did your mission go?" I asked.

"Didn't really go well since I had to come back here to get patched up," Mizu said.

"Was it anything bad?"

"Kind of. But not to the level of how bad your wound was."

"Mizu," I said after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Y/N?"

"I-I've been meaning to tell you something."

"Hm?" she set down her tea cup and turned to face me.

"I-I've been meaning to tell you ever since you came here before you left."

"When you patched me up before now?" she asked.

"Yes. Well, actually, I should have told you before you left a few days ago. But that's besides the point. Actually, I didn't tell you because I thought I would hold you back from your mission."

"Tell me what?" she asked.

I couldn't tell if she was playing dumb or was actually curious. I smiled slightly just thinking about it.

"Tell you how much you mean to me," I said, avoiding her gaze.

"How much do I mean to you?" she asked, her hand reaching over to grab onto mine.

"You mean everything to me, but I fear that my feelings would get in the way of your revenge. That you won't give it your all. That you would be afraid to get hurt or to even die because you have to come back to someone. So that they won't feel--no--that I won't feel alone without you."

A small smile formed on Mizu's lips as she leaned towards me. I closed my eyes, readying myself to tell Mizu how I felt about her.

"I-I lov--"

I couldn't even get the words out. I was cut off by Mizu placing her lips against mine softly. My heart began to beat so fast and loud that I think she could hear and feel it. I let out a soft hum as I placed my hands on her cheeks, pulling her closer to me so the kiss was more firm. Pulling away, our cheeks mirrored one another's. They were flushed with a light pink.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

I smiled widely, giggling as I pulled her in for a hug. She hugged me tightly, resting her head on my shoulder. Pulling away, I leaned towards her and placed a kiss to her nose, earning another smile from her.

"Even if I do have a mission for revenge, I promise," she reached down and grabbed my hands. "I will always return to you."

"You better," I chuckled.

"For you," she said. "Always."

[silverskye13]

"You're bleeding."

It's an obvious statement, one Tanguish feels a little foolish for. Of course Helsknight is bleeding. He just won his match. It's amazing how strong these Colosseum fighters are, how much damage they can do to each other, especially when they're matched up well. And Helsknight is the Champion of Hels -- if for no other reason than the popularity with the crowd, every one of his matches is a good match. It has to be. Anything less and it's not the Champion, is it?

Helsknight looks dazed. It's a familiar look. After a particularly rough fight. It's like the knight can't believe the fight has stopped. It takes a few minutes for his heart to stop sprinting. So he goes through the gate, dragging his sword up to the nearby wall and plants himself on the bench, and he stares into the middle distance, breathing, bleeding, waiting. It's a familiar look. Today he's spattered up to the elbow in blood, and it runs between the links of his chain mail in thin calligraphy lines. It gathers in the bends in his pauldrons, makes more stark the dent in his chest plate. If it's not cleaned and polished off in the next few hours, it'll settle in those places and poison them with rust, and the next time Helsknight fights, he'll be more vulnerable. Blood is such an insidious thing sometimes, the way it weakens when it flows.

Tanguish moves to the knight, a bowl of water in one hand, a healing kit in the other. He takes the knight apart like he's a machine, slipping delicate fingers across the gauntleted hand, undoing straps and buckles to show the bruised knuckles beneath the armor. Metal and leather can only do so much. Bodies break surprisingly well, when they're testing their limits. Helsknight sighs as Tanguish massages his hand, searching for broken bones. The knight is almost feverishly hot to his frost-laden touch, and Tanguish watches the swollen skin start to pale as the cold soothes it.

"You don't have to do that," Helsknight says, his voice a thin and distant rasp, still lost somewhere in the adrenaline crash. "Just... give me a minute to rest."

"I am," Tanguish answers him gently and keeps working, unclasping the buckles on the chest plate and pulling it free. He lays it gently on the ground, and takes pride in how Helsknight breathes easier. The knight rests, eyes fluttering half-closed and sighing as Tanguish works. Cold hands trace over blooded armor and fevered skin, setting right the wrongs. He dabs at cuts, eliciting hisses of pain that he immediately soothes. He puts ice to bruises, and water to sweat and blood, and Helsknight revives, slowly. His breathing lengthens and deepens. The flushed skin cools. The muscles relax.

"How did the fight go?" Tanguish asks when Helsknight's eyes flutter open again.

"I won."

"You can say it better than that."

Helsknight smirks, his vitality slowly returning. He sniffs and runs a tongue across his teeth, making room for the words where there once was blood. Tanguish doesn't know how the knight stands the taste, but then again, Helsknight has been in a great many fights. Maybe blood loses its flavor after so long.

"You watched the fight."

"And so did they," Tanguish looks up to the ceiling, where the cheering of the crowd still sometimes surges and roars. "But none of us can tell the story the way you can."

"Blood is memory without language."

"See, that's what I mean."

"Weaving bard's tales already?" someone asks, another fighter sitting on another bench, cleaning a bloodied sword. "You haven't even rested yet."

"He's resting now," Tanguish says, running the damp cloth over a gash in Helsknight's arm. That one will need stitches, or a health potion. Helsknight's hand shakes when Tanguish cleans it, and there's color in the cut that means its too deep, gruesomeness he doesn't want to put names to, for fear it'll make him sick. Helsknight spares the wound a glance before pointedly fixing his gaze away from it. It always strikes Tanguish as funny, that the knight can't look at his own wounds. He can inflict them, he can tend them in others, he can ignore them, but admitting he's wounded is a mountain he struggles to climb.

Helsknight closes his eyes again, but the eyelids keep moving, like a man dreaming or searching for words.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"When they opened the cage."

Helsknight nods. He sits in silence for a long moment. In a few days, when all wounds are healed and all aches soothed, Helsknight will write in a little book he keeps under his pillow:

Blood is memory without language The wounded creature screams And though the sand drinks life away We lay linked by crimson streams

Brothers you and I, creature Kin on parched and bitter sand Though mine is spilt for glory Yours is spilt by crowd's command

What place is this, what hell endured That brings us to this yield But happenstance and hubris And hungry crowd's bone field

What beast are you to me, creature What creature I to you You are a footnote in a story And I the death of you

Again repeat what we both know Whilst life, for now, entwine That we are linked in blood my love Shared memory divine

[green-eyedfirework]

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

Whumping season is upon us! 🖤🧡🖤🧡 Prompts are currently closed, I'll see you all in October!

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.”

broken mirrors

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.”

wind blows

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

side of the angels

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.”

broken mirrors

No. 5: SUNBURN Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far."

alpha's price

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

slipping

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

silver bird

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on."

close haul

No. 9: OBSESSION Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.”

crumpled paper

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

siren call me

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.”

gemini

No. 12: STARVATION Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

caught

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part."

silver bird

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted”

unmarked

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

teeter

No. 16: NECROSIS Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

unmarked

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

safe passage

No. 18: REVENGE Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.”

deliverance

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?"

bystander

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

an heir for an heir

No. 21: BODY HORROR Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.”

wouldn't wish it

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

crumpled paper

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

plunder

No. 25: SURGERY Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

plus sign

No. 26: NIGHTMARES Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.”

virtue is truest nobility

No. 27: VOICELESS Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

deliverance

No. 28: DENIAL CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

scape

No. 29: FATIGUE Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

through a glass darkly

No. 30: RECOVERY Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

virtue is truest nobility

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well."

wedlock

Alt 2. Communication Barrier

ribbons

Alt 9. Secrets Revealed

in the middle

Alt 10. Shivering

in the middle

Alt 11. Survivor's Guilt

the best revenge

[beepersteeper]

Bedside Manner -- Astarion x Tav Fluff

Tav yells out for healing from way out of reach. She's been cornered by the enemies with only her sword and wits to keep her alive, and both were wearing very thin. She takes one more blow to her lower stomach and the edges of her vision start to fade to a deep red. She falls, dead weight onto the ground. Unable to keep any part of her crumpled body up.

“Get up!" Shadowheart screams, becoming surrounded  by the enemies that just took Tav down. “Someone get her up!"

“Dont you die on me damn you!" Astarion shouts disengaging from his fight and bolting to Tav's side. He saw her breathing shallow labored breaths holding pressure on a gaping wound on her stomach with her hands, now covered in thick blood, almost black with how deep the red is. “Let's not waste anymore blood, hm?" He tries in vain to comfort her with a joke while he opens the largest health potion he has and putting it to her lips. She grabs it and chugs the whole thing. He pushes her hand off the wound and adds a shirt from his pack to the wound applying better pressure than she was. “You need to get out of here. Now." He states without giving her an option to reject. He slaps a scroll of misty step into her hand “NOW!" he shouts.

She does and sets herself well outside of combat, watching her friends finish the fight.  Shadowheart and Karlach disappear,  Astarion misty steps himself to Tav, ignoring any possible loot there may have been. 

Tav tries to lift the makeshift bandage and before she can Astarion forces his hand onto it. “Leave it!" He scolds “you don't take off the bandage until it stops bleeding or we can get that greater restoration scroll. Just keep pressure."

He looks at his hands with her blood slipping between his hands. Where there would usually be hunger in his eyes, desperation and fear sat. No funny quips or sideways comments slip from his tongue. He gives her another bottle for her to drink and adds another shirt to the wound watching it quickly turn crimson. “Fuck” he curses under his breath “where the fuck is that cleric!"

“Must be pretty bad if you're worried about a little blood." She laughs weakly

“A little blood my arse. Have you seen yourself? Besides I thought I was the only one who is supposed to make you bloodless, hm?” He relaxes a bit, feeling better that she's alert, and joking. But mostly that he is sitting with her. Knowing that she's okay right now. "where in the nine hells is Shadowheart!?”

"Give her time,” Tav says, closing her eyes for more than a moment, " she'll get here.”

"Aht aht.” He says tapping her cheek with his hand to open her eyes. "you're going to open those pretty little eyes right now. You gotta stay with me. “ He urges. Shadowheart reappears and uses the scroll and sits back on her heels. And waits for the magic to take effect.

The magic was enough to save Tav from immediate peril but the wound still needs  stitched up, still bleeding but so much less. “The closest town is a two days walk, in peak shape. She'll bleed out by then” Shadowheart says, staring at the ground, trying not to consider Tav dying. 

"Just get me back and I'll do it myself. I've stitched bigger wounds on fellow soldiers, doing it myself can't be that much harder." She winces as Astarion changes his pressure on her stomach. 

“Rubbish." Astarion mutters “I've seen your attempt and mending clothes, you will not massacre your skin any more than it already is.” He slightly lifts the edge of her bandage to peak at the wound, still bleeding but slowed down enough to put on another rag. He tosses the soiled cloth to the side, replacing it with a clean one. "Just get us back. I'll get that closed. I've closed up my siblings' wounds before.”

With a flourish Shadowheart transports the party back to camp and Astarion carries her like the most fragile package to his tent, demanding that she lay down and  keep pressure. 

“Just… stay there. I'll be back.” He holds up his hands making the stop motion. He leaves the tent, hollering to the other party members for the things he needs “get me a bottle of something to knock her ass out without putting her to sleep. This is going to hurt, but I need her to be alert." coming back soon after with a bottle of whisky and a glass. He fills the glass and puts a length of fishing line and a needle and hands her the bottle.  “You're going to want to get real greedy with that. This isn't going to be pleasant. And I'm going to need to get you out of that” he points at her upper body. He holds her body weight as he delicately unties her broken armor and peels the soaked shirt off her frame. 

As she laid half dressed she listened, taking a large mouthful, feeling it burn down her throat. “If you wanted me out of my clothes this is a terrible time to ask" she chokes at the burn in her throat. And take another.

“Darling, I've gotten you out of your clothes several times already, this has nothing to do with that." He chuckles, letting himself breathe a little more freely calming his own nerves to steady his hans as he threads the fishing line through a thick needle. She nods at him signaling that she's ready.

He pours clean water into her wound to flush out any debris from and starts stitching her flesh. 

“fucksake" Tav winces but stays still clutching at the cloth below her. Trying to take her mind off the throbbing pain she asks “where'd you learn to do this?"

“it's a sappy story" he says “I think I can remember my mother fixing holes in the knees of my pants. When I was turned I vowed to keep some part of her alive." He shrugged “I can't even remember her face anymore, but when I sew something, or someone I suppose in this case, I feel like I almost can remember her. That and the scent of roses." He shrugs and shakes his head, continuing to focus on his patient. 

She takes another greedy mouthful, a trail of hot tears cut through the dirt and blood  on her face from the hot pain permeating from her stomach. 

“I know it's quite a sad story but I'm shocked it's brought you to tears.“ He pokes fun, still diligently tending to her open wound.

“You're stabbing me, repeatedly, asshole." She reminds "but I appreciate you sharing that with me.”

"Stabbing you” he chuckles to himself “You’ll to be fine.” He scoffs "Honestly you're the first person I've ever told, count yourself lucky.”

She tries to smile but a sharp pain rips through her mind "AHH” she hisses loudly rocketing her head back trying to keep center still, and drinks again, several throatfulls. Her mind starts to fall into a drunken haze, lessening the pain in her flesh.

“About halfway there darling." astarion whispers, not pulling his eyes from his work. “Your doing great." 

“Thanks for doing this." She says relaxing more into the whisky's embrace. “And thanks for getting me out of there. You really put your own neck on the line for me.”

“You're worth more to me alive than dead Tav." He says with a slight smile creeping at the corners of his mouth “who else would I hang out with on respite days?”

"you'd find someone to deal with you.” she laughs.

“perhaps, but they're not you.” He says trying to joke but unable to hide his sincerity. “I've grown quite fond of you, you know."

“Come off it." Tav says in disbelief “I'm not dying, you don't have to try to make me feel better like this."

“I mean it." He says tying a knot in a stitch “this" gestures to her stomach before continuing his work “just gave me the push to tell you. I forgot that you mortals are so very fragile." He stops for a moment letting his gaze meet hers. “I would be remiss if I had to watch you die and not tell you what you mean to me.”

A bashful smile becomes her lips "I'm not dying anytime soon. You're gonna have to tell me all this again when I'm not getting more drunk by the minute." She takes another drink and trails off into thought “you said I had pretty eyes." She chuckles and winces as he returns to the final stitches.

“I did.” He admits shaking his head and smiling “we’re just about done here. But you're not getting up and moving around to rip these stitches for a while. So think about what you need."

“Something to eat." She sighs “I'm starving."

“It's good that you have an appetite." He says “anything else?" He ties off the last few knots making sure it's secure. 

She lays quietly, trying to think through the waves of her intoxication. “Would it be too forward to ask for a kiss?”

"I don't think so.” He smiles, returning his needle to his sewing kit. He leaned over her and placed a quick and tender kiss on her lips tasting hints of whisky on her breath "Even better than I thought it would be” He coos. "Now just stay here, relax. I'll be right back.”

He returns with a bowl of stew in one hand, his chalice of blood in the other, a canteen around his body and  a roll of bandages in the crook of his elbow. "You think you can sit?” He asks, setting down all of the goods he's brought with him. After helping her sit he wraps the cloth around her waist several times tying it off with a knot over the wound to add pressure. He sits on a stool crossing his legs next to Tav drinking from his chalice slowly. Urging her to drink some water and eat something “Darling, you've drunk near this entire bottle” he reaches for the whisky bottle and sloshes the remaining quarter of the liquid “and you need to eat something before you pass out."

She obliges, taking small spoonfuls of her supper. “Thanks, Astarion, for everything today.” 

“Don't mention it." He waves his hand waving the notion of thanks away “you would have done the same. And who knows with the rate this group is going you very well might have to.” He laughs uncrossing his legs leaning his elbows on his knees with his hands dangling into the space between the two of them. He extends one of his hands for her to take.

She is hesitant at first but places her hand delicately in his. He puts his other hand on hers rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. 

“I'm going to be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing." He laughs

"Maybe it's okay, not to know.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

“What? Are we just supposed to go about our days as if nothing has changed?”

"what's changed?” She asked with a smirk "were just a couple of friends that hold hands now. Nothings wrong with that." 

"that…  sounds good to me.“ He smiles “now you need to go lay down and get some rest. You've gotta start healing, it'll be a couple of days till you're really back on your feet." He stands up helping her to her feet. "Let's get you back to your tent.”

She wobbles on her bloodless and drunken legs And falls into him. Astarion catches her and helps her back onto the bedroll below them.

"Looks like you're not going anywhere darling. Just stay here, I'll just sleep outside tonight.”

“Nonsense. I'll just get back to my tent, you're not sleeping outside." Tav argues propping herself up on her elbows and falling back down wincing from pain. Trying in vain to be the strong leader everyone is used to seeing. “Okay, maybe you're right." 

“what do you suggest then?” He asks, crossing his arms, unimpressed by her arguing,  concerned for her pain.

“Why won't you just stay?" She says plainly, nothing lacing her meaning “besides…” she trails off, worry painting her face "what if I rip my stitches or start getting worse.” She covers her face with her hands 

"What's actually wrong?" He asks kneeling down placing his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her skin trying to comfort her. 

"I'm scared okay?” She hisses through her tears, speaking frantically. "I've never been hurt this bad. I'm always the one who comes out unscathed. I don't get hurt. And then the one time I am hurt I'm on death's door. I'm scared of when it ultimately hurts more later because I know it will hurt more than it does now, than it did earlier. What if I started bleeding again and couldn't stop it. And no one knew. And I would just…” she starts to weep

Astarion shushes her while sitting next to her leaning on her his footlocker for support and rubs comforting circles on her shoulder “I'm not going to let that happen." He whispers. “I'm not going anywhere. Now get some rest. I'll be right here when you wake up.” He grabs his cup and finishes the red liquid in it. “I promise.”

Tav falls asleep pretty quickly, with her hand holding onto the edge of his shirt for comfort, knowing that he's right there. 

Astarion reaches into his footlocker and grabs a book to read while he stands vigilant making sure Tav stays well through the night.

[thedragonagelesbian]

(Sorry if you get this twice)

15. Trembling hands 💞💞💞

Micro Story Prompts

hehe happy belated birthday <3<3<3<3

Bryn's hands hadn't stopped trembling. Cyrus didn't notice at first. Between the quiet of his mind weighing empty and the softness of his body drained of all its aches and pains--an absence he knew, he knew, would give way to new presence with time--but for tonight, there was nothing but the numbness of his rebirth.

...And Bryn's hands on his body.

They were tucked away in a corner of their suite in the Elfsong Tavern. Curtains drawn between them and the rest of the party. The last soap bubbles from the bath she had drawn him melting into the water. A pair of forgotten teacups cooling on the nightstand. Her healer's kit on the floor nearby, spilling the scent of herbs and poultices into the air, just in case. Just in case.

Yet none of Bryn's repeated and thorough examinations had revealed anything that needed healing, magical or medicinal. Pressed together in bed, Cyrus sat with a blanket pulled around his shoulders (he had no memory of ever being cold before) and his body bared to her. She had scrutinized every inch of him with the passion of a healer and a lover both, touching every new scar and plenty of the old ones too. All the places where the tips of Cyrus' jagged wings had pierced him as Bhaal reclaimed his spent blood. The rivers that Ilmater's tears had left through his scars as the Rack-Broken Lord washed away his suffering. The wrinkles set at the corners of his mouth and eyes, wrought by Withers' resurrection.

Cyrus, who so often was so bashful about the tending that his broken body required, was so relieved to touch her again that he had been content to sit and let her fuss. To simply be with her without the salivating whisper of his Urge tickling the lining of his stomach.

But now, with enough awareness poking through the exhaustion to see the tremor in her fingers, he frowned. As her hand came up to tug at the grey streaks through his hair, he caught it. He kissed her open, quivering palm, her knuckles, her wrist, breathing her skin in through his mouth.

"Bryn..." He leaned into her-- the sigh of her name and the warmth of her hand where he brought it to rest against his cheek. Eyes closed, sinking and safe, and when they slid open again, he saw her staring up at him, her own Fey-touched eyes wide. He smiled. "I'm alright."

She huffed. "You always say that."

"I mean it this time. Maybe for the first time ever."

"You don't know that. You can't, not after all the gods put you through today..." Voice breaking, Bryn's hand slipped from his, down his neck, feeling the fanged scar from his first death and the steady pulse beneath. "You don't know what you looked like, what you sounded like. I have never seen you in so much pain."

Cyrus recalled his own terror seeing Bryn die in the swamp. How, in his desperation, he reached out to his tadpole and tried to bleed her back to life. How powerless he felt when she didn't get up again.

"The pain has passed." He covered her hand again and moved it lower still, to the center of his chest. Where once his sternum had glowed with Bhaal's irradiance, the first wound where Father finished stitching his body together, now there was just the nearness of his heart. "And the headaches, the urges, the blood thirst, all of it. And everything that's left of me is yours. I am safe and sound in your care."

Bryn's hands were no longer trembling as she grabbed him and crushed their lips together. There was a frenetic energy to the kiss--the way her thumbs dug into his cheeks like she was afraid he would disappear if she slackened her grip--that Cyrus was too exhausted to match. But he let her pour life into him, mouth open and body pliant, all of him soft in her hands.

"Don't die again," she whispered when she broke away, every word a stubborn healer's mandate to her beloved martyr.

"I won't." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, the shape of their bodies clicking together. "I promise. I want to live."

Maybe for the first time ever.

[beautyconsumer]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 1

Two Stubborn Idiots sitting in a Bathtub-

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

@whumperless-whump-event A little late but first one is done! Also cross posted on AO3

Relationship: Jason Todd/Grant Wilson

Fandom: Batman, Batfam, Deathstroke (comics)

Content and TW: self-suturing a wound, needles, non-graphic violence, alcohol used as sanitizer, description of pain, implied sexual content, injury, medical inaccuracies, hurt/comfort, comic book logic, Lazarus pit side effects (only healing ones)

“It's just a scratch, I've had worse,” Grant says, “You're the one who's bleeding out,” he points out, eyeing the oozing wound from Jason’s side.

Jason huffs, presses harder on his side with his hand, the scent of metallic blood pungent on Grant's nose, it doesn't bring him the thrill of victory over someone else as it usually does. The absence of the feeling doesn't sit right with him, not enough to do something about it. Not then.

“Just bring me something to clean the wound,” Jason says, voice strangled among heavy pants. It sounds dangerously close to other occasions Grant has heard him making the same vulnerable, pitiful sounds. He ignores the automatic heat creeping up his spine to retrieve what's asked. Wrong time.

The safe house is pretty neglected, there's little equipment let alone medical supplies. Jason and he had been using the space and shitty bed in it for everything but sleeping.

Grant kicks himself a little for not worrying more about keeping the place stacked with vital things someone without a regenerative metagene would need. His tendency to look only after himself nagged him rarely.

Yet Jason had him experiencing emotions too intense and too fast for him to process.

When he looks at the medicine cabinet he realizes they don't have any disinfectant.

But they did have a half bottle of vodka they had drunk the day before.

Grant purses his lips but goes to the kitchen for the bottle.

Jason’s gaze looks hazy when Grant comes back to the bathroom. Jason prefers to bleed out in the bathtub despite the fact the place has been stained with blood beyond repair.

Grant hurries to him and palms his cheek lightly, Jason’s eyes are closed, his eyelashes are fluttering weakly. Grant curses before opening the bottle and pouring the content rapidly into his wound.

Jason startles into awareness, he yelps and trashes in the porcelain pool, Grant places his palm firmly on his chest to keep him from moving too much, else he worsens his injury and wastes the liquid he had halfway poured on him. Grant hushes him, in an attempt to calm him or ground him.

Jason’s pupils are shrinked into pinpricks. Bright teal rings staring back at him. Jason stills when he registers Grant, relaxes into the hold and limits himself into a hiss.

Grant hikes up his shirt to look closely at the wound, Jason is too weak to protest.

“You’re gonna need stitches,” Grant says.

Jason snorts, “Look who’s talking.”

Grant feels dark tendrils of annoyance reach at him mercilessly. Jason is the one who's the most vulnerable of the two. If Grant is vulnerable at all as Jason keeps implying.

There’s always a bigger fish, Grant knows that, a lesson sank deep into his very core; he just doesn't see what that has to do with who needs more medical attention than the other, Jason does, most of the time, despite Lazarus Pit liquid roaming in his blood; Bat arrogance and skill can do so much, but it’s like that never drills into his thick skull. Grant might have a deep slash from a sword on his chest, but his body had worked on swiftly joining his flesh closed the moment the blade had been separated from his skin.

Jason stubbornly meets his scowl, he is one stubborn bastard but so is Grant.

“You’re getting stitches first,” Grant says.

His first mistake was the way he said it. He is gonna face Jason’s defiance at his tone, but he can't help it, he hates when Jason gets like that, such a martyr when it was very much not needed.

‘Let me just fucking help you.’ Grant thinks.

“You first,” Jason says.

It's stupid, almost childish if it weren't for the fact that Grant knew he was dead serious. An option is holding Jason down while stitching his wound closed against his wishes, and while Grant had the deep need to have Jason just fucking listen to him for once and do as Grant asked, because he was doing this for his own damn good —he also knew his obstinacy didn't come from a bad place— the action would only worsen Jason’s wound.

Because despite the situation Jason would still fucking struggle.

“Fine,” Grant snaps, taking to leave toward the medical kit.

Grant hated stitches, it hurt, they ended up looking ugly, he hated to touch the result or even look at it.

“Let me do it,” Jason says, voice slurred, which only aggravated Grant more. He’s losing blood too quickly.

“Shut the fuck up, could you even hold the needle?”

Jason frowns but doesn't say or do much else, Grant doesn't think he exactly can.

Grant gets to work quickly, in his eyes this was useless and stupid and yet—

He takes the needle and inserts the thread quickly.

Then for the first time of the night Grant looks at his own wound; he was partially right, it had closed significantly, far from the deep slash he had felt white hot piercing in his flesh. From it still emerged thin rivulets of scarlet blood, dampening his suit from his torso to the front of his legs.

The annoyance flared to righteous anger, he could just look away and let the thing close itself while he took care of Jason but nooo, Jason had to be an asshole.

The first bite into his skin didn’t do much to calm his choler, but he did hiss at the incision, if he had ignored the wound he wouldn't feel it this intensely, Grant couldn't help but bitterly think. He kept going, quickly stitching the wound together firmly with rough pulls at the needle, irritation fueling his vicious rhythm.

His metagene didn't mitigate the pain any less.

Grant bites his lip to push through the pain, tastes the tiniest drop of blood and stops immediately, he didn’t like having uneven puffy lips.

Grant is panting slightly when he’s done and cuts the strand off.

He quickly looks at Jason then, the scowl on Grant’s expression vanishes when he looks at him. His skin too pale, his head lolled to the side, the rest of his body slack.

Grant feels shocked into motion, he gathers Jason in his arms to hold him close, he feels as lax as a doll, a terrible and bright contrast to the normal Jason who’s firm and strong and restless.

Grant hears his heart beat, focuses his hearing into it, his favorite sound in the world is diminished into a soft, weak thump. Grant massages Jason's chest without giving it much thought. His mind punishing with repeated thoughts on what he should have done to make this anything but this awful outcome. But that doesn't fucking matter, he needs that wound closed, he needs to stop overthinking this.

He deatatches himself from Jason to gather the supplies again, his hands are shaking unlike the time he did the stitches on himself; he finds out with trepidation.

He pulls the skin closed with far more precision and care than he did himself, each time he sinks the curved needle into Jason's swollen flesh he tries to keep himself together, telling himself that it is for his own good.

When the wound is finally closed, thin flashes of bright green thrum underneath the skin, Grant feels he can breathe normally.

He shudders out the deep intake of air full of tension he was holding.

Grant sets his forehead against Jason’s, he is thankfully not burning with fever as he feared.

Grant lets himself go lax against him then.

When Jason wakes up next Grant is gonna give him an earful for scaring him like this.

[neptunes-blue]

CORPSMAN’S PRAYER - VINCENT KRAWCZYK - THE PACIFIC

short summary: Vincent Krawczyk graduates from Illinois’s Naval Hospital Corps School after first enlisting on the 8th of December, 1941

warnings: implied child neglect (sort of?), sailors get drunk and slip off chairs

(Main) characters: Vincent Krawczyk (oc), Terence Flynn (oc)

word count: 1.8k words

notes: this is like. The only time ever I will post my writing… if it disappears tomorrow I have succumbed to my shame and deleted this 😔. I had to format this on my iPad with no idea how any of this works…. Also if you see spelling/grammar mistakes no you didn’t I was too scared to share this to a friend to proofread ☹️ (looks at the ‘art blog’ in my bio hmmmm)

🚢

Grant me, oh Lord, for the coming events;

Enough knowledge to cope and some plain common sense. Be at our side on those nightly patrols; And be merciful judging our vulnerable souls. Make my hands steady and as sure as a rock; when the others go down with a wound or in shock. Let me be close, when they bleed in the mud; With a tourniquet handy to save precious blood. Here in the jungle, the enemy near; Even the corpsman can't offer much lightness and cheer. Just help me, oh Lord, to save lives when I can; Because even out there is merit in man.

If it's Your will, make casualties light; And don't let any die in the murderous night. These are my friends I'm trying to save; They are frightened at times, but You know they are brave. Let me not fail when they need so much; But to help me serve with a compassionate touch. Lord, I'm no hero—my job is to heal; And I want You to know Just how helpless I feel. Bring us back safely to camp with dawn; For too many of us are already gone.

Lord bless my friends If that's part of your plan; And go with us tonight, when we go out again.

— Navy Hospital Corpsman’s prayer 

When Vincent was 5, he woke up in his home to nothing.

When he tried to focus on where he imagined the hallway, there was nothing but black. And from the kitchen he heard a faint drip and nothing more. 

It’s hard to recall a memory in the muffling black dark. It’s more of a feeling really, cold icy dread that travels down your spine and keeps you at a standstill. 

Vincent still remembers how his body— much smaller in his youth, chattering with fear on the dusty couch. Too scared to call out for his parents.

10 years later, he’d brought up the memory at the dining table and was flattened by his father’s admittance to a fuzzy memory where he forgets to take him off the couch and into bed.

Currently, Vinny is 19 and fumbling with the neckerchief of his dress blues. His brow knotted while Terence Flynn shined his shoes.

“Vinny, how in hell are you gon’ take care of your wife? 20 and you can’t tie your own kerchief?”

Krawczyk swivels to face Flynn like you would in drill. His face in a crooked smile.

“20 in a week actually. I thought I told you yesterday that I was 20 next week.” He says in a voice dripping with a very matter-of-fact tone, a crooked grin plastered on his face.

“I’m gonna start praying for your future wife.” Flynn half-snorts, rolling his eyes. 

Vincent listens to Terence’s back click as he stretches, taking a ‘well deserved’ break from his shoe-shining; it was a lousy attempt to seem presentable and handsome for graduation. Terence Flynn, mousey-faced and dark-haired tucking away at least some of his antics for today.

Vincent had complimented how nicely Flynn’s chevrons were stitched once. Terence had flushed red and muttered ashamed that his mother had sewn them on for him.

Within each stitch a gentle kiss of a mothers love tucked under the dark fabric of the Navy’s pride— that’s what Vincent imagined anyways. He had responded with a quiet ‘oh’ and looked at his own chevrons that still had stitches leaking from the edges of blue fabric. 

Krawczyk tried to stare back into the mirror and ignore the eruptions of jealousy that burst across his face.

Men dressed neatly in their Navy dress blues begin to leave barracks, putting away shaving kits and slicking their hair back with their caps in hand.

“Bu-ddy?” 

Terence whistles and clicks his tongue, already standing at the door out of barracks. 

“Christ!” 

Vincent glanced at Terence and then back at himself in the mirror before quickly scampering after his friend. Finally figuring out the intricacies of his neckerchief while his shoes hit the plywood floor.

Vincent's rowing team had been best in Missouri, he was the best batter in baseball, captain of the swimming team, and one of the top boxers in school. 

It didn't count for much, all his trophies and awards were in a box underneath his bed. 

Krawczyk wouldn't know until after his enlistment had ended that his parents had pawned his gold medals off when he'd left for the Navy. Vincent would understand when he came back. Forgiving, sweet, war-torn Vincent who would believe his family was going through tough times.

His photos remained in the box however– the same crooked grin even as his face matured. Collecting an inch of dust.

The winter wind had calmed to a soft breeze (thank the lord) and Chief took to the stand saying speeches Krawczyk seemed to block out with his anticipation.

Rows of navy men with their chests puffed out with the boyish pride that never left them even as men. Preparing to leave for war with the promise to serve and a prayer for survival. 

Thomas Murray, a tall, gawky man with blue eyes and blonde hair had been a surgeon before all of this; Chance Henderson always wanted to be a doctor who and thought this was the quickest a cheapest way to get there; shy Samuel Davis who blushed easily and hated using the communal showers was plain kind-hearted and liked the idea of helping wounded; Dayton Bishop was smart and steady-handed, he was suited to the role of a corpsman with square eyes and a handsome jaw.

Terence had smirked at Vincent when he told him he joined up because he thought it’d make him popular with the ladies. 

Vinny had roared with laughter, telling him that he’d, ‘never even get a nice girl to look his way’.  

Flynn had tried to counter him, reminding Vinny that he had a girl— ‘A girl that left him’, he had responded with. Flynn wanted to argue but Vincent turned the topic too quick.

‘Colours, present arms!’

Vincent was beaming. 

The whole thing felt like his High School graduation but fancier. And if it wasn’t an important ceremony he wouldn’t have stopped himself from laughing but, he’d be lying through bared, grinning teeth that he wasn’t pouring over with pride. 

He (rather excitedly) stepped onto the stage, shaking hands with the CPO and then to the SCPO who passed him his graduation paper. Vincent was only able to glance at his name ‘Vincent Phillip Krawczyk’ scrawled in the middle of the paper before he had to ‘calmly and mild-manneredly’ walk across the stage.

"I solemnly pledge myself.”

"I solemnly pledge myself…” The bright faced men echoed. 

“Before God and these witnesses.”

“Before God and these witnesses.”

“To practice faithfully all of my duties.”

“To practice faithfully all of my duties.”

“As a member of the Hospital Corps.”

“As a member of the Hospital Corps…”

The band marched out soon after the Corpsman Pledge, Anchors Aweigh cutting through the dewy morning air and sending out that good ol’ Navy pride. Vincent could’ve sworn he saw Terence’s eyes water as he muttered the lyrics under his breath.

“STAND NAVY TO SEA, FIGHT OUR BATTLE CRRYY!”

Flynn roared, hopping from bar stool to bar stool— hand on heart while the other swung a bottle of beer. 

Davis was bright red, with 7 drinks too many he had joined Terence in his performance. Vincent clapped, repeating Terence and Davis’ “So vicious foe steer shy-y-y-y!”, despite not having even one drop of alcohol that evening. The rowdy sailors had scared off most of the other bar patrons. Dayton sat smartly as ever, Murray was playing craps with the increasingly drunker Chance and the other boys— Mark, Jones, Sutton, Kidd, Freeman, West, Patrick… were either pink-faced and whooping or challenging the other to another game, drink, or bet.

“Y’know, back in my home-place, Missouri I used to drink like there wasn’t a God!” 

“Anchors aweigh my boys! ANCHORS AWEIGHH!”

Dayton didn’t seem to be really paying attention to Krawczyk’s yammering.

“My pal, Nate, he drank beer like it wasn’t a Wednesday afternoon. Never trust a usual mild-mannered Missouri man, we might all seem pleasant but as soon as he gets a drink too many he’ll sock you right in the face if you even mention his favourite sport team’s rival team— I nearly got socked in the face for it once, can you believe it?” 

Vinny bursts into laughter, not really taking note that Dayton didn’t join in.

"Farewell to foreign shores, we sail at break of day-ay-AY-AY!”

“You’re not drinking.”

Vincent perks up when Dayton speaks.

“Yeah— yeah, no, I'm not a drinker," Vinny shrugs. "Christian, I keep it to special occasions." He finishes, grinning.

“Uhuh. Isn’t this a special occasion?”

“Someone has to be sober enough to hold caps when you all retch whiskey in the bathroom.”

Dayton shrugs, swirling his brandy on the rocks.

“Drink to the foam, until we meet once more! Here's wishing you a happy voyage HOME!”

And with the end of the second verse, Flynn missed the barstool he was jumping to by a foot and cracked his head on the side of the counter.

The sand was soft at Nunn beach.  

Vinny liked beaches, he liked the waves, how the seawater dried on his arms and left white salt stains on his skin. He even liked nursing his good friend after slamming his own face into a bench, who now had a rapidly growing lump above his right brow.

The sun had sunk halfway under the ocean, sending out stretching wands of orange light that sparked crashing waves yellow. It turned his and Flynn’s faces amber and made his bruise just slightly more obvious. 

“Finally put those corpsman skills to good use.”

Vincent was grinning— Terence was not. 

He reached into his wrinkled blues, pulling a silver rosary over his head, careful to not bump his tender lump. Terence cleared his throat, trying to clear the shame in his voice. 

“My gal got it for me but you know uh. We broke up”

“She left you.”

“We broke up!” He insisted, with a huff. Flynn turned from Vincent and admired the carving of Christ. Hanging by his hands on the silver cross, intricate swirls that seemed to grow from his hollow body and border the cross he was strung across. It seemed to glimmer white in the setting sun.

“Take it. A parting gift. Or an apology— I don't care. Or really believe in that crap anymore anyways”

“Don't call it crap.”

“Sorry.”

Vincent tenderly accepted the gift from his friend, thumbing the cross.

“Tell me a story, Vince.” Terence’s voice was flat, eyes glued onto the horizon instead of his friend.

“Well. Once me and my pal Nate thought it'd be funny to throw rocks at the school greenhouse.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

[opheliajupiter99]

Lil' Gid (Part 2)

It was the early morning of the next day, cozily tucked away within the Inn at the End of the Road. After the initial scare and subsequent settling of Kremy's new friend from the other side, Kremy had fallen asleep back on his bed with the little doll tucked away in his jacket pocket.

Of course, the doll couldn't actually -sleep-, all it was really doing was laying there, waiting for Kremy to wake up. As such, it'd grown quite bored, especially since the Baron had told it quite a good deal of the others in the inn, and the curiosity combined with the boredom eventually drove it to carefully pull itself free of Kremy's pocket and hop down onto the ground, shuffling off and slipping through the door.

First, the little doll ended up in Gricko's room, peeking through the crack in the door before waddling on in. Gricko was curled up at the foot of the bed, fast asleep, while Hootsie was tucked snuggly in the bed itself, blankets pulled up tightly around her and a little stuffed toy cradled in her little claws.

As the door creaked open, Hootsie squirmed, peeking one of her big eyes open. At the sight of the doll, both eyes shot open wide in surprise. The doll waved, miming a giggle, before waddling up to the bed, hefting itself up with the aid of its chains.

Hootsie quickly pulled the doll in close to cuddle it; it didn't just -look- like Uncle Gideon, it smelled like him too! Maybe papa had gotten it for her as an early birthday present! Oh, this was the best day ever! Hootsie snuggled against the doll cheerfully, and eventually, as she was used to chew toys especially, nipped into the doll.

The doll didn't move against it, as he didn't feel it - somebody however, certainly did...

"FUCK!" Gideon shouted as he shot up in bed, his white shirt stained partially red as out of seemingly nowhere, a beak-shaped bite wound had appeared on his chest, gradually seeping out blood as he frantically dabbed at it with his blanket.

Kremy burst into the room shortly after, awoken almost immediately by the sound of Gid screaming. "What happened?!" Gid gestured to his chest, still dabbing away at the bleeding wound. "I dunno man, I just woke up to a shitton of pain outta nowhere, and this ugly thing!"

Almost immediately putting the pieces together, Kremy patted down his jacket, in such a panic to rush to Gid's scream he hadn't even realized the doll wasn't there until just now. "Ah shit...Gid, stay here, I'll be right back."

Without waiting for Gid to respond, he rushed to Gricko's room, flinging open the door, Gricko, who'd also been woken up by Gid's scream, trying to get Hootsie to hand the doll over to him; gently of course, which was probably why the wound on Gid's chest hadn't gotten worse.

"Hootsie! Gimme the doll, you're hurtin' Uncle Gid!" Hootsie let out a whimpering hoot, hanging her head at her papa, and now Uncle Kremy's, scoldings, spitting out the doll, who sat itself up on the bed and dusted itself off.

"Goddamnit ya lil' shit, I told ya to stay in my room til' I woke up!" The doll put its stubby hands to the side of its head in an 'oh no!' kind of pose, then mimed another giggle. "You know this lil' fella, Kremy?" Gricko said; of course, given it was a voodoo doll of all things, that'd perhaps be assumed, but suffice to say things were a bit frazzled at the moment.

"The Baron sent him up topside to help us. I'm sorry, I shoulda locked my door, I was just really all over the place last night; when the lil' fucker first came in, I thought I was dead and buried." He huffed, looking back to the doll. "Now come on, let's getcha sewn up."

"But shouldn't I help Gid, I can get some banay-" Gricko began, but Kremy waved a hand. "Nah, voodoo doll's don't work like that, Gricko, to heal the wound ya gotta fix the doll, ya can't heal it normal. Ya can throw whatever ya want at the wound and it won't do shit if the doll's still torn, that's part of why they work so well."

So, Kremy sat down and began to stitch up the doll, which in turn began to seal up Gid's wound. As expected, Lil' Gid was a troublemaker, though to expect anything less of a being from the other side was a foolish endeavor. But, even with that, Lil' Gid's intentions did indeed lie in helping - if it could stay in one piece long enough to help, anyways.

[allinestarr]

Competitive Part 4

Sorry it took long to post, but here it is! - Alline 

Alec Lightwood x Fem reader

Before you could slam the door in his face he stopped it with his foot.

“Please just hear me out for 2 minutes. I promise I won't bother you again.” he pleaded.

With a sigh you opened the door and walked to your dresser and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Taking the fact you left the door open he took that as an ok. You walked to the bathroom and quickly got dressed carefully not to agitate your wound. Even though you activated your healing rune you still had to be careful not to reopen your wound or you’d have to stitch it up. When you walked out he was leaning against the closed door to your room.

“ What do you want?.” you asked.

“ Well.. I want to apologize for yelling at you. Its been a pretty stressful night and I was really worried about Izzy. I thought she was going to die tonight and there was nothing I could do to help her. I get it you had a vendetta but you can't blame me for being mad, you were reckless. You acted on impulse and it almost got the both of you killed. ”

Unbelievable, did he just come here to lecture you more or apologize?. He never even once asked how you were. And what a hypocrite thing to say being as he would do the same thing if he were in your shoes. While lost in thought you hadn't realised the wound on your back had opened from fidgeting around and some blood seeped through your t-shirt.

“ You’re bleeding. let me take a look, ill stitch it up for you.” he said as he walked closer to you.

“ No, I got it. Plus you’re 2 minutes are up.” you said as you walked to your front door and held it open for him to leave. He sighed and walked out but not before turning around to say something. This time before he could say anything you closed the door in his face. You don't know what you were more mad at, him being right or the lack of empathy he had for you. The last 24 hrs have been a lot to take in so you decided to just stitch yourself up and sleep until you couldn't anymore. Unfortunetly that wasn't long for you because its like you had a built in alarm clock and you were up at 6 am in the training room on your 4th punching bag after annihilating the last 3.

Everyone was concerned about you, besides Alec. He just chalked it up to another one of your dramatic outbursts for attention. Your actions warranted attention from the clave and even though you did a favor by killing the demon, you did it with no authorization and endangered the lives of Izzy and yourself. It would have gotten anyone else banned and stripped of their runes but since you eliminated a huge threat and were still an asset, you were just suspended from field work for a month. Throughout your suspension you avoided your friends and when you spoke to them there was barley any words exchanged. It caused a rift between you and Izzy. She knew you were in pain and couldn’t do anything about it. You spent your weekends going to the bar and drinking alone and sometimes you found yourself starring out into the city from the rooftop of Raphael’s compound in Brooklyn till the sun came up. No one knew how you felt or the nightmares you had. It all ended the same, you would die and so would Izzy and everyone close to you. The only person you confided with your feelings was your friend Sookie. She couldn’t take your pain away but she could numb it for you. She gave you an elixir that would numb your feelings so you couldn’t feel anything. You took it everyday and eventually you no dreams at all.  

After the suspension you were allowed to go on missions with Izzy and the team. Alec of course opposed this but didn’t say anything.

“ Do you notice how weird y/n’s been?”, Clary asked Jace.

“ Yea. She’s been acting really strange. Like she’s devoid of any emotion. It’s like when your talking to her she’s not really there. She’s hasn’t been nagging Alec like she usually did and has been so one worded with Izzy. And now with this whole valentine thing, she’s so focused on finding him and killing him.” He sighed.

“ Do you think something else happened in that warehouse with that demon?. Did it poison her or put her under its influence?.”

“ I don’t know. I think once the demon is dead any influence it has ceases but it may be worth asking Magnus about. Maybe he knows.” 

“ You’re right. Should we tell Izzy about this or should we just do this on our own?” She asked.

“ Yea, I don’t want to keep anything from her. She’s my family and so is y/n. We have to find out what’s going on and help her cause I think things might get worse.”

Jace and Clary found Izzy and Alec in the institute and explained they're concerns and plan. So with a plan in place they visited Magnus. He explained that the only way to find out would be to dig into y/n’s mind and it would be painful.

“ Great, how are we suppose to convince y/n to willingly let Magnus do that when you can’t even talk to her!” Izzy screamed.

“ Well there is one way, but I don’t think she would like it.” Magnus said.

After Magnus explained his plan of ambushing y/n in a fake mission knocking her out and teleporting them to his home everyone reluctantly agreed. Alec remained neutral and only agreed for his sisters sake. Magnus awaited a text with there location while everyone else returned to the institute to find y/n. 

It wasn't hard to find her cause she was always in the same place now a days, in the training room. 

“Hey y/n, we have a lead on a possible location valentine might be at. Shower and change, we will meet you outside.” Jace said. 

y/n nodded and headed back to her room. She took a quick shower and got dressed making sure to strap her favorite bow to her back and daggers to her thighs. She met them in the front of the institute and they made there way to chinatown. When they walked through an alley y/n started to think something weird was going on. Clary kept looking at y/n and back at Jace every 5 minutes and Alec was walking in the back instead of the usual front since he led the team. When you reached the end of the ally you saw it was a dead end with no doors leading nowhere. You looked up and saw a fire escape and like they sensed what you were about to do they started to lunge towards you. You were quick which has always been one of you’re advantages and you dodged all of them and quickly grabbed an arrow to shot the lock on the latter to the fire escape but Alec shot his arrow at yours before it reached it. How could these people who you considered family do this to you?. At this point it was survival of the fittest so you stated fighting back. You easily knocked Jace and Clary down and then Alec thanks to your new skills you learned training. Then it was just you and Izzy. 

“y/n, we don't want to hurt you. We want to help you. You are my Parabatai and I know there's something wrong. We just want to make you better.” she pleaded. 

“ Better?.Theres nothing wrong with me. I have never been better than I am now. Old y/n is gone and this me now. Accept it or get out of my way.”  you snarled. 

She looked down contemplating before looking at her bracelet with a hurt look. Like as if you saw it in slow motion she grabbed her bracelet extending the whip to its full length and whipped it towards you but before it could wrap around your neck you grabbed it and pull it toward you knocking her to the ground. She quickly got up and lunged at you and you fought back. Suddenly Alec is up and fighting you as well. You kept the upper hand most of the fight. You knocked Alec against the wall and lunged on top of Izzy holding her down. 

P.O.V Alec 

He watched as you straddled his sister holding her down choking her. It was like you had the strength of 10 men. He had to think of something quick and  something did and he knew he would regret it later.

 Back to present 

Alec watched on as y/n choked Izzy and he ran, grabbed her and... kissed her. She froze immediately and looked at him in confusion. In that moment Jace hit her over the head and she collapsed. Instead of feeling the ground bellow her, she felt a pair of arms hold her up. Everyone took a second to catch there breath before Izzy looked at Alec and said, 

“ I knew it. it was bound to happen.” she smiled. 

He looked at her, rolled his eyes and said, 

“ This does not mean anything. I had to distract her and that's the only thing I could think of. Now if you’re done, text Magnus. We have work to do.” 

Taglist: @babygirl2022​ @zealouspursecowboydeputy​ @melaniepeep​ @destielshipper88​ @abbiesxox​ @mrs-billyrussooo​

Competitive Masterlist

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Thirty-Nine

Yn

Everyone was gone. I saw the tail lights of Daryl's bike after I had rounded the house and ran for the dirt road. I saw him pull up to someone, letting them get on before speeding off. His tail lights were the last thing I saw. Walkers closed in around me, forcing me to fight my way out and continue running. By the time I got fair enough away from the farmammo, leavingf ammo, leaving me with just my knife.

My legs and lungs were burning with how long I've been running. I only stopped when I felt it was safe enough. I leaned my hands on my knees as I bent over sucking in as much as I could. My heart was beating so fast that it was hard to breathe. I wanted to collapse onto the ground. I wanted to lay here and not move, let my body relax. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't stop. I need to get further away. So that's exactly what I did; I straightened myself up, sucked in a deep breath, and continued running. It was hard to pick my pace back up. My legs hurt, and we're growing weak. And just as they were about to give out from under me, I heard that familiar rumble of an engine.

A single light lit the area around me, causing me to bring my hand up to shield my eyes. The rumbling grew louder, and the movement of the headlight came to a stop. I squinted my eyes and held my hand up to try and block the brightness of the light until a figure stepped in front of it and blocked the light out. I hadn't realized that I had collapsed onto the ground until rough hands were wrapping around my arm to pull me up. “Come on, sunshine, ya gotta get up. Can't stay here!”

My legs were weak and shaky, and if it wasn't for the support of Daryl, I wouldn't have gotten back up at all. He led me to his bike, helping me get on behind him. Daryl pulled my arms around his waist, kicked the kickstand up, and turned the bike around. My hold on my tightened when he sped up. I could feel him stiffen under me a little when I laid my head on his back, but he slowly eased up. The warmth that came from Daryl, combined with the vibrations of the bike, started to lull me to sleep. I closed my eyes, tightened my grip on Daryl, and let my body relax.

I didn't open my eyes again until the bike stopped. I slowly pulled away from Daryl, dropping my arms from around his waist, and looked around. We were parked on the side of the road miles away from the farm. Daryl carefully got off the bike and looked down at me. “Ya alright?” He asked in a gruff voice. “My stomach hurts,” I whispered. I threw my leg over the side of the bike and stood up. I pulled my bag off my back and set it on the ground beside Daryl's bike. “For fuck sake, woman!”

I looked up at Daryl with a confused expression. “What? What could you possibly be pissed at me for now?” He took a step towards me, hand reached out and grabbed the hem of my shirt,lifting it up. “Yer fucking bleeding.” I looked down to see the wound from the gunshot I had gotten a few days prior was in fact bleeding. “Well, Daryl, it's a little hard to prevent when you're running for your fucking life!” I reached down and picked my bag up, unzipped it, and pulled out the first aid kit I had inside.

I set my bag back down and walked over to one of the cars to set the first aid kit on the hood of the car. “Let me take a look at that.” I looked up to see Hershel standing on the other side of the car. “Thank you.” He walked closer and I pulled my shirt up to expose the wound. “Looks like a couple stitches got pulled out. Nothing too serious,” he said, opening the first aid kit. He pulled out the hand sanitizer to wash his hands before pulling gauze and antibacterial cream out for the wound. “This should be good for now. The wound looks like it's healing nicely.”

After Hershel patched me up everyone stood in a circle. “Where's Andrea?” I asked, looking around. Carol put her head down, “She went down after helping me,” she said. I nodded in understanding. “What about Shane?” I looked over at Rick, who had a hardened expression, and he shook his head. Lori was giving him a look of…maybe disgust? So there was a lot more to the story. “We found Randall,” I said, making Rick look at me. “He was a walker. But the weird thing is, he wasn't bitten. His neck was broken.”

“How is that possible? He had to have had a bit of stretch somewhere l, right?” Carol asked, looking a little scared. Everyone started to talk at once until Rick talked over them. “We're all infected!” That made everyone shut up and cast their gazes at him. What?” I asked. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh. With his hands on his hips he looked at the group and said, “At the CDC, after Jenner unlocked the door, he pulled me in and told me…he told me that we're all infected. It doesn't matter how we die; you don't need to be bitten. We all come back no matter what we die from.”

I stepped back when everyone started talking at once, angry at Rick for keeping something so big from them. Was I mad that he kept that from us? Yeah, sure I was. But at the same time I understood why he didn't. There was so much going on already. We barely got out of the CDC before it blew up. We got stuck on the highway and Sophia went missing. If he would have told everyone what Jenner told him it would have just caused more of a panic.

That night we found the remains of an old stone building that had long been gone. It was starting to get cold at night with fall slowly turning into winter. A small fire was built, small enough not to draw attention but big enough to give off enough heat to keep us somewhat warm. Everyone was still pissed off at Rick for keeping his little secret. They were giving him looks. Even his own wife was doubting him. I had my suspicions that something happened between Rick and Shane. Shane didn't just get bit and Rick had to shoot him. No, something more happened.

“We're not safe with him…Keeping something like that from us. Why do you need him? He's just gonna pull you down,” Carol said to Daryl. I looked over and raised an eyebrow. “No. Rick's done all right by me,” he told her. “You're his henchman and I'm a burden.” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. “What? You can not be serious right now. You think Shane would be a better choice?” I asked her. She cast her gaze down and didn't answer me. “If that's what you think then you better stop. Shane wouldn't have saved any of us. He would have gotten Lori and Carl and that's it. He would have left the rest of us to die.”

People started to freak out over a small noise that came from the darkness that surrounded us. They wanted to leave. They didn't want to be out here. But they didn't realize that we don't have that luxury. “We need to move, now,” Someone said. “No one is going anywhere,” Rick said. “Do something,” Lori told him.

“I am doing something! I'm keeping this group together, alive. I've been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn't ask for this. I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ's sake!” Rick said in an outburst. “You saw what he was like, how he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us. He staged the whole Randall thing, led me out to put a bullet in my back. He gave me no choice. He was my friend, but he came after me. My hands are clean. Maybe you people are better off without me. Go ahead.” Everyone looked at him without saying a word so he continued.

“I say there's a place for us, but maybe... maybe it's just another pipe dream. Maybe... maybe I'm fooling myself again. Why don't you... Why don't you go and find out yourself? Send me a postcard. Go on, there's the door. You can do better? Let's see how far you get.” Again just silence as everyone looked at him. “No takers? Fine. But get one thing straight... you're staying. This isn't a democracy anymore.”