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dragonblobz · 4 years

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@lilfriezatyrant requested a fic based on an ask recieved of caring for Frieza when he's injured. THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE. And yes there's at least one more part coming so dont panic at the ending lol. Wrote this to Odeath by Aesma Daeva and Seen It All by Mushroomhead. HOPE YOU LIKE IT GIRLIE

Injuries Part One

WARNING: DETAILED INJURY DESCRIPTION AND GENDER ASSUMPTION

There had been no explanation. You had woken to the sounds of explosions in the middle of the night. The city had been in flames. You gathered what supplies you could and fled.

You ponder that night now, as you tread thru the underbrush, looking for food.

2 weeks ago, you’re life had been so different. Preparing to graduate. To honor your family with the first medical doctor in the bloodline.

Then the invasion had begun. Aliens had arrived. It had all been so fast. Some alien had decided that your planet now belonged to him.

Of course, your world had fought back. And all for naught. Any government that didn’t immediately pacify…….. the results were swift and ruthless. Only 3 days into it….. that’s when you had fled. You’ve been eking out an existence in the mountainous wilderness to the west of the city.

Your dinner is brief and frugal. You hadn’t found much. You’ll be sleeping hungry tonight. You are really just glad to be alive.

The night is fire all around your little tent. Explosions and roaring and flames. You’re too frightened to even attempt to run. You merely huddle in your pathetic shelter and pray to your gods that your tent is spared.

And it is.

The next morning, all is quiet. Most of the woodland around you is spared. Damn. Whatever it was must have simply been LOUD and BRIGHT.

You figure you’ll see the extent of whatever happened before you decide whether or not you’re going to pack up and head deeper into the mountains.

It’s only a couple of miles of trudging before you see the devastation. Craters blown into the earth. The forest floor, once prickled with elderly trees, now smoldering ruination.

“What on earth could possibly….” You choke on your own words. What on earth indeed.

You nearly trip over it.

Turning, having made the decision to pack your things and go, despite being tired and hungry, you very nearly trip over the body on the ground. You stumble and instead choose to literally fall near it on purpose. The ashy rocks bite into your palms. You land with your face directly across from it’s face, only mere inches away. It is curled on it’s side, in the fetal position. Its body inverted to yours.

You freeze, huddled on the ground, waiting for this face…… this ALIEN face….. to move. But it doesn’t.

Its face is……. Not like any face you’ve ever seen before. Neither feminine nor masculine. Smooth. White as the purest snow, albeit smudged with soot. Its entire body appears to be this color.

Its eyes are closed. But you can see that they’re quite large, set above a small piquant nose. Its lips are very dark and slightly parted, revealing perfectly even teeth, which are a stark contrast to the blood stains around its mouth. But this isn’t what keeps you motionless.

All this observation takes a few milliseconds on your part. At least until your eyes flit to the dome of its head. It’s…… its crystalline. Like the smoothest polished amethyst you’ve ever seen. The light of the morning sun sparks flames upon its surface. And portals of inferno within its depths. As if, if you looked HARD enough, you could see galaxies being born there.

You consider this for some time. Just looking at this being before you, your body very still. You watch a fly land upon its nose. And feel sudden irritation. Impulsively, you reach up to shoo it away.

The being inhales sharply, a reaction to its tickled nose.

Your body jerks before you go still again. Waiting. It doesn’t move anymore. But you can see that its breathing.

You slowly raise to your feet. It must be one of those aliens. Those things that were trying to take your world. You need to go. You need to run.

But you can’t.

Its hurt. Badly. You’ve taken an oath. You cant leave it here. It could die. You gaze down upon it, observing the rest of it’s unconscious form.

It looks so small and helpless. Graceful, even in unconsciousness. It’s arms limp, yet still curved around it’s knees. As if it is protecting it’s abdomen with its slender hands. Its limbs are smooth and well defined in musculature. It’s toned legs ending in 3 strong looking toes on each foot. Your eyes brighten when you notice it’s long tail stretched out behind it, curving slightly back towards its head. You notice matching flashes of amethyst light upon its shoulders and fore arms. Upon it’s shins. You even catch a dark glint of the same between its arms upon its chest. Its……. Its really quite pretty.

Well. It cant be helped. You’re average in build. But this creature appears smaller. You figure you can probably carry it.

You reach down and slide your arms beneath its knees and shoulders, before lifting it to your chest, cradling it much as one would cradle a child. Its surprisingly light. And COLD. Its body is frigid. And its skin, tho appearing smooth to your eyes, is delicately patterned. As if its scaled. There is the faintest luminosity to its skin, even thru the soot you can see this.

The arm closest to you curls into it’s chest. The arm furthest dangles limply at first. As does its tail. You turn to return to your tent. You can hear its tail dragging thru the rubble as you walk. It isn’t long before you’re walking upon the softer detritus of the undamaged forest floor beyond the blast zone.

A shuddering movement within your arms causes you to still your walking. You look down upon it. Its slowly moving. Curling its dangling arm to its chest along with the other. Nuzzling its face into your chest, as if seeking your heat. You can see its feet curling and relaxing and curling again. You hear a swishing as its tail wraps around both you and this thing. As if its clinging to you. You feel yourself soften at this helpless little thing.

You continue on to your camp.

As you set the being down on the flattest area of soil near your camp fire, you feel yourself already sinking into the quiet assessment of the medical professional you’d hoped to one day become. Its breathing. Airway good. So this means it must have a pulse. Cant breathe without a pulse right? At least a HUMAN couldn’t. Your critical gaze assesses for abnormalities and injuries.

You find a deep gash, accompanied by swelling, on the side of its head, just underneath the crystalline formation in its skull. You surmise that this is why its unconscious. There’s also several deep wounds along its chest, making the large purple marking here appear as a precious stone set in a ring of wounded flesh. These are the two most serious wounds, other than the blood around its mouth. At least, until you notice its legs. One is nimble looking and lean. The other has an extra joint which you know doesn’t belong. It’s right shin bends at an unnatural angle just below its knee. The swelling makes it look obscene.

You rummage thru your pack, finding gauze and antiseptic, cleaning as best as you can. It winces restlessly as you pat the wound on its head. Even with all your training, this still makes you feel badly. As if you’re torturing it.

You glance nervously down. Now for that leg.

You find 2 sticks, strong and sure, to use as splints. You have no idea how this thing’s bone structure will deal with a break. But you DO know it’s leg is broken.

The sounds it makes as you pull its leg and apply the splints are heart breaking. But you know it must be done. As you tie them secure, you suddenly feel a sharp pain and the world spins around you.

Even as you land in the brush several feet away, you still are not sure exactly what happened. You look up in time to see the being groan and shift, the toes on its splinted leg flexing spasmodically.

Self defense. It’d struck out in self defense. You can see 3 thick lines already swelling into purple bruises on your fore arm. It must have grabbed you with its other foot. And thrown you? It seemed too small to be so strong.

You flex your wrist. Nothing broken on you. At least for now. You decide that maybe the being needs to be cleaned. To be frank, you do as well. But patients always come first. You’d scouted the area already, and make your way to a nearby stream for water.

You bathe it gently, starting at his poor bruised head.

His. The sounds it had made when you’d splinted it’s leg. Raspy and agonized. But it’d had a masculine inflection. Not too deep. And it’s body structure lacks female OR male structures, at least in any way that you understand these things. It does have well defined masculine slender musculature. You know this doesn’t truly indicate gender. But you cant help but be swayed by your own biological reasoning into thinking of this being as a male.

You clean the grime from his delicately structured face then, as gently as possible, you clean around the bandaged wound. He winces. You pause. But he doesn’t awaken.

The light from the afternoon sun glints off the top of his head, like violet flame. You gaze at it for a moment before forcing yourself to focus on what you’re supposed to be doing.

You clean the rest of him as good as you can with the scrap of cloth and the steadily darkening container of water. After he’s more or less clean, you carry him, gently supporting his leg, into the tent and settle him in your own cot. Then you attempt to find more food. You have emergency food in your pack. Granola bars and peanut butter. But you figure he’ll need food when he awakens. So you ignore your own hunger and search elsewhere instead.

You come up pathetically short handed. Some berries. And not many. You’re going to have to sneak back into the city if you cant find more. You watch his chest rise and fall as you eat them.

Even in the dimness of the tent, murky with the fading light of the setting sun, those purple jewel like areas still glimmer. Yes. He’s pretty to look at alright.

The berries stick in your mouth as he shifts. Groans. The toes of his splinted leg flex and spread, then flex again. Yet, he still doesn’t awaken. You feel badly. You have Tylenol in your pack. But he cant swallow those if he’s not conscious.

You rise to your feet gingerly and approach him, clenching your blanket in your hands. You’re careful to not bump his leg as you spread the blanket over his body. You roll a towel and gently pick his head up to place it beneath. Your palm brushes the hard purple surface of his head and you gasp. It feels hard and chill. Like a quartz crystal.

On impulse, you reach down and touch his cheek. The skin is cool, as you already know, but this time you let your fingers rest for a few moments, curiosity getting the better of you. Smoothly patterned. Like scales so tiny that you cant actually see them. Soft. Yet tough. Something hit this guy HARD.

His nostrils flare and you jerk your hand away. You stumble over your pack in your haste to back away. Still, he remains unconscious.

You’re thoughtful as you arrange your pack into a semblance of a pillow upon the floor of the tent and curl with your hands around your knees. You’ll need food. He’ll need more than granola bars.

You can barely see his outline in the shadows of the dying fire outside your tent. And the delicate shimmer of those purple spots. You fall asleep to the steady sound of his breathing.

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

A snuffling sound disturbs you. You’ve rolled during the night. The harsh sunlight thru the tent wall stings your eyes. Your whole body aches from sleeping on the rocky ground.

More snuffling. Then a deep bass growl. You sit upright, suddenly.

The first thing you see is him.

Sitting upright, his splinted leg stretched before him, and his toes exposed at the end of your blanket, he's very much awake. His arms are crossed primly.

But it’s his face that holds your rapt attention. It’s wearing the most annoyed expression you’ve ever seen in your life. His pupils are the most intense shade of crimson. And his gaze smolders with rage.

But it’s not you he’s looking at.

The snuffling again. You turn. And whimper.

There, not 2 feet away, so close that you could reach out and pat it’s slavering maw, is the massive profile of an adult grizzly bear.

#frieza #freeza #long post #my writing

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