#aftermath of stabbing

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hurt

(Vee asked for a continuation of this piece I had requested of Taron helping homeless AU! Jameson after he was badly injured)

-

CW: Description of wounds, runaway whumpee, reluctant caretaker, defiant/angry whumpee, some pet whump references

He'd made it to the alley near the guy's restaurant, figuring he could ask for some bandages or something - there's a good first aid kit, there. The guy's helped patch him up before.

But sometime before he could knock on the back door, he'd stopped being able to get back up when he fell down. The cold of the gravel and broken pavement in the alley had felt good against overheated skin, and he'd stopped trying to stand.

Then there had been a touch, and some sound, but Jameson hadn't been able to track it. He slipped in and out, bright flashes of pain, the sting of something over his stomach that made him flinch, murmured curses or apologies. In and out, dark and light. At some point he coughed and the pain was so bad he stopped remembering how to breathe.

There'd been some water sipped through a straw, he thinks now. There's a light somewhere above him, shining through his closed eyelids. A warm blanket.

And voices.

"Well, he's stitched up," He hears one voice say. A woman. He can't find the energy to open his eyes to see who it is. "I'll give Dr. Masood a ride back home. He'll live, Taron, but I can't take him."

"You can't?"

"No, and I'm so sorry. I know you're attached to this one, but I'm just not able to right now."

"Nat, I really need-... you're sure you can't, at least for a while? I don't know what to do. I can't keep him."

Jameson doesn't dare move even enough that they might realize he's awake. The disappointment in the man's voice, how he sounds genuinely depressed that whoever this woman is won't just take the inconveniently hurt little runaway off his hands... that... that hurts. Jameson didn't realize he could still be hurt that way, by someone not wanting him.

Huh.

That's... that fucking sucks. That hurts in a way he doesn't have a ready defense for. He'd thought the guy maybe kind of got along with him, a little.

"Nat, please. Please."

Jesus, he's begging someone to take Jameson off his hands? Tough strong scarred motherfucker so tired of dealing with Jameson's shit that he'll beg someone just to cart him away?

Jameson's teeth grind together. His side aches, where the knife had slid in when they took his warm coat, when he fought them trying to keep it.

His eyes burn.

Don't cry, he thinks. You don't cry anymore. You won't cry ever again. This is what people are like. Shouldn't have ever kept coming here. What, you think a runaway pet gets to make a fucking friend? Stupid piece of shit cotton-brained motherfucker, dry the fucking waterworks and get up off the fucking cot.

But his body won't move.

"I... Look. I just. I'll ask around and see who can maybe take him on. Do you have any idea who he was before? Designation?"

There's a pause. "Does that matter? For what you-... what you do?"

"Not for me, but... some of the others only take certain types. It's... it's a fight I'll never stop having. But if you have any idea, that might help?"

"No, I don't-... that's. No, I don't know. He just needs somewhere to go... and it just. It can't keep being here."

Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry-

They walk away, out of earshot. Jameson lays there, breathing as carefully and evenly as he can. Eventually, he finds his legs answer him when he wants them to move. He can still hear their voices, but farther away. They're not between him and that back door back into the alley.

Clinking of ceramic tells him someone's drinking coffee. It gives him cover to swing his legs over to the side and slowly force himself to sit up. Fuck, it hurts like hell. His side is a line of bright fire burning over the stitched-up wound. There's a shirt, one of the guy's. It's way too big but Jameson pulls it on anyway, drowning in the fabric. LIke wearing Nanda's old shirts sometimes, just so he could smell him when his master was away.

No.

He won't go down that road. Not now.

Getting pants on is harder, but he manages it. His own pants, stiff with dried blood, but fuck it. Fuck it all the fuck to hell. If Taron wants to get rid of him so badly, he'll make it easy for everyone involved and fuck right off on his own two feet.

Granted, his feet don't want to hold him. He has to balance against the wall, while his knees buckle and the world swims and the pains takes his breath so far away his lungs are screaming before he can inhale again.

But it's just one step after another. One hand on the wall, one foot maybe dragging a little, but he's been in pain since Brute, and he can keep being in pain forever if he has to. He was made to take the pain, after all, right from the start. Not pain like this, but... but he can handle it. He can take it.

And maybe this time he'll fucking learn his lesson. No one wants a scarred-up piece of shit runaway slut around. He's been bumming shit off this guy for too long already. This is just his sign that he's worn out his welcome.

He has to learn to stop wanting to be... wanted.

It's the hardest bit of his training to lose.

Everyone's just a different kind of shit, in the end. Everyone will hurt you, unless you learn how to stop being hurt. Stop being anything but a wall so thick that nothing can break through it, no one can break it down.

Pain rolling up his side, nauseating and throbbing, he turns the doorknob as quietly as he can. And still he hears the guy's voice say, "Wait a second-"

He tells himself not to pause.

But he does.

"If you don't want me around," He says without looking at him, voice rougher than usual and thready-thin from the pain, "Just fucking tell me, man. No hard feelings, yeah? See you around."

"What-"

Jameson nearly falls right down the steps, but somehow keeps himself balanced until he's walking as fast as he can with a limp down the alley, wondering how far he can get before his legs give out beneath him.

He grinds his teeth so hard his jaw aches.

“Wait!”

Just keep walking.

Don't look back.

Don't let it hurt.

Don't you dare fucking cry.

Not this time.

Not again.

[keeper-of-all-the-random-things]

13. THINK WE CAN MAKE IT

Whumptober | No. 15 Makeshift bandages | No. 26 You look awful | No. 30 Bridal carry

In which Sam really wants a nap.

Previous

*****

Everything was on fire.

Every movement, no matter how small, shot pain from his center to his extremities.  Each breath burned.

Sam decided to stop.

…..

Someone was screaming.  Sam couldn’t tell who.

He was aware that he was awake and really wished he wasn’t.  He was also aware that he was on the ground now.  Thomas knelt nearby and kept prodding his side.

Only then did Sam realize he was screaming.

“It’s okay.  You’re okay,” Thomas muttered as he pressed a wad of cloth against the wound.

Sam definitely did not feel okay.

There was a tearing sound, and Thomas secured the cloth with long strips of duct tape.

“Have to stop the bleeding,” he said.  “I’m sorry.”

Sam groaned.  He wanted to sleep.

“Hey.”  Thomas slapped his cheek lightly.  “Don’t do that.  Stay awake.”

“M’not dying,” Sam said.

“Good.”

Thomas sat back on his heels and stared at the door.  After a minute, he said, “I have to end this now.”

“Okay.”  Sam didn’t want Thomas to leave, but he knew it was necessary.  “I’ll be right here.  Don’t die.”

“Yeah.  You too.”  Thomas stood.  “I’ll be back.  Stay awake, okay?”

Sam hummed in acknowledgement and promptly ignored the command.

…..

A few seconds passed, or possibly a small eternity, before Sam woke to an insistent shaking.

He opened his eyes to find Thomas, looking worse for the wear, kneeling over him again and gently moving his head around.  The movement made him dizzy.

“Please stop,” he said.

“Jesus Christ.”  Thomas stopped.

“Close, but no.”  Sam smiled weakly.  “You look awful.”

“I look - you look like a wet blanket.  I thought you were dead.”  Thomas gestured vaguely at the air and added as an afterthought, “Then all of this would have been for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” Sam said quietly.  He stared up at the ceiling.  “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Yeah.”

Sam looked back at Thomas, who appeared lost in his head.  “What happened?”

Thomas was silent for a long time then shook his head as if to bring himself back to the present.  “I … Nora … we … nevermind.  It’s done.  She won’t come after us anymore.  The Agency is dead.”

“Okay.”

“What do we do now?”  Thomas seemed to ask more to himself than to Sam.

Sam answered anyway.  “Let’s go home.  And then sleep for six years.  And also fix this hole,” he gestured to his duct taped torso, “before it leads to structural damage.”

“Yes!  Yes.  Can you walk?”

Sam shifted, trying to sit up, and a bolt of fire shot through his body.

“That would be a no,” he said, panting from that small exertion.

Thomas nodded decisively.  He moved into a crouch, placing an arm under Sam’s knees and the other under his back. 

“I’m sorry.  This will hurt.”  He stood, holding Sam against his chest.

Sam laughed and winced.  “I haven’t been held like this since I was little.  I used to pretend to be deathly ill so my parents would have to carry me to bed at night.”

“It was probably easier when you were small and uninjured,” Thomas said without malice.

Thomas carried Sam through the Agency compound until they found the little green car.  The keys hung neatly in a row with the various van keys.

Sam settled in the passenger seat and watched the building fade away in the rearview mirror as Thomas drove them away.

“How are you feeling?” Thomas asked, staring resolutely at the road ahead.

“I think I’ll make it,” Sam replied.  “And you?”

“Yeah.  I think we’ll make it.”

[whumpetywhump]

Heartless City - Ep. 2

[serickswrites]

Far Better IV

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced stabbing, referenced blood, referenced wounds, hospital, hurt/comfort, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Hero was surprised they woke up at all. They were even more surprised when they woke up they found they were in a hospital bed. Caretaker really had rescued them. It hadn't all been a dream.

"Love, oh thank God," Caretaker's face suddenly appeared over Hero's. "I thought I lost you."

"'m 'ere," Hero managed to croak after swallowing a few times.

"Here, have some water," Caretaker held a straw to Hero's lips. Hero sucked greedily on the straw, suddenly parched.

"Thanks," they managed to say normally after a few gulps. "You saved me."

Caretaker's face was full of guilt. "I almost didn't though. You were nearly dead by the time the ambulance arrived. I thought I lost you."

"But you didn't." Hero felt fine. They realized they were probably being pumped full of painkillers. But they were ok with that. They were alive. Caretaker was with them. That's all that mattered.

"It's all my fault," Caretaker said with tear filled eyes. "Love, you nearly died because of me."

"But I didn't."

"Hero, if help didn't arrive when it did, you would have bled out in my arms. You would have died because I owed Villain money. I couldn't live with myself if you died."

Hero put a hand to Caretaker's cheek. "I don't blame you, Caretaker. Villain has always been trying to catch me. It would have happened one day. I'm just glad you made it in time."

"I love you, Hero. And I am so so so so sorry. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you."

"There's nothing to make up. Though maybe instead of borrowing from a criminal master mind, we can get a bank loan next time."

Caretaker smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Though we won't need to worry about Villain. They won't be hurting anyone where they are for a long time."

Caretaker kissed Hero's hand. "You need to rest, love. Close your eyes, I'll watch over you while you sleep."

"Good. Good." Hero let themself sink deeper into the pillows. They were alive. Caretaker was safe. Villain was, well, they didn't know where, but Villain was gone. Things were far better than they were before any of this started. And Hero could live with that very easily.

"I love you," Caretaker's voice drifted into Hero's head as they slipped into sleep.

"Love you," Hero whispered as they sank into the welcome darkness of sleep knowing that Caretaker would be there when they woke up. And Villain wouldn't be. This was far, far better than anything else. Hero smiled to themself knowing that their life would continue with Caretaker. And that they were all safe.

Tags: @aarika-merrill@theelvishcowgirl@books-are-everything @glassthedumbass @st0rmm

@lthrboy @painsthegame @lokigodofaces @ladyflautist @defire

@itsjessiegirl1

[jabibi-the-beef]

you call it "playing dumb" i call it "minimizing the casualties" we are not the same

[whumpberry-cookie]

(tw: noncon touch)

Imagine Whumpee being magically so beautiful and breathtaking that all mortals are just falling on their knees before them.

Whumper treated them as their pretty bird in a cage. Kisses, compliments, unwanted pets and affection.

After the rescue, Caretaker... without a second thought decides to never mention how captivated they feel. Because they think it's unfair that Whumpee can't have any true relations with mortals for who they actually are.

(C:) "I never told you this, but..."

(W:) "I knew you loved me, Caretaker. Because you never told me"

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

(Also that's what I found after searching for pretty man in gifs)

(Ah, yes. My primary school crush)

(Of course Taehyung's here)

[small-world-au]

Stora angst…

There’s also bits of lore. In one of the rps, doña Mari said Stone and Sora got into an argument when they were 13, which results in Stone pushing Sora down the stairs…which landed Sora in a coma for a YEAR. Fortunately, these two lovebirds are still going strong, made amends, and are about to get married.

I wasn’t in a good mood today…just doing angst this once…I don’t really like angst…but it’s liberating a bit…this is also sorta a vent???….feeling shitty a lot less, I guess…

Edit: the events…

The accident:

“RUTHLESSNESS” aftermath:

Tw: blood 🩸

[c1trvswurld]

Ik genjis fleshy bits that he still has are conventionally attractive for selling and character appeal reasons but I really do appreciate the idea of him having heavy scar tissue around his face. I like art that depicts the pure engineering and scientific marvel that he is. The way his organic blends in with his mechanical as processors and pumps are constantly at work to keep him alive. Love the idea of him customizing as he got use to it, accepted it more. Like to think that his lower jaw doesn't move when he talks, in fact his jaw is completely able to be removed and the only thing needed to communicate is his voice box, customized and attuned to change to the strength of the hue on his visor depending on how loud he wants to be.

He'd take the time for repairs and check ups to meditate and love his body as he polishes the metal along with his swords, use it to think about how far he's come. Because he loves his body, prays about it, appreciates it, takes care of it.

[capturedpain]

The Following 1x08

"I didn't tell them. I didn't tell them"

Mike's tortured to find Hardy's wife but ends up stabbed after he convinces them he doesn't know.

Hardy gets there in time to save him and find out in the hospital that Mike is literally the only one of them that does know where she is.

[whumpypepsigal]

Walker Independence s01e11: “Gus, for God's sakes, shoot him!”

[cantagirldrawinpeace]

Oda when I catch you Oda 🙂🔪

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Getting Stabbed Hurts, Who'd have thought? (Magician's Bait, Part 6)

Whumpril Day 22 (Stoicism Breaks), Day 27 ("Please don't go")

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

first part | <- previous part

TW: stab wounds, stitches mention, disorientation, death mention, burns mention, dizziness

Context: Reese wakes up after passing out to find Luc binding her wounds. Damian is okay (for now).

-----

Reese’s head pounded like her skull was being used as a child’s drum set. Everything else was numb, but her head spun even before she opened her eyes. She lay face down, head resting against something hard and cold. Her arms were limp at her sides, and her left side throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

She lethargically turned her head and stared blankly ahead, prodding her tired mind to focus on her surroundings. The catacomb entrance… I’m at the catacomb entrance. We made it out… but how…?

Two people were seated on the ground opposite her, a woman with curly red hair pulled back into a braid and a man with wavy black hair. Both were facing away from her, and the woman was… painting the man’s arm?

Caiya… that’s Caiya Ebony. She must be painting healing runes of some sort. And he’s the prince. Why had it taken her so long to realize—?

“Reese?”

She blinked, eyes flicking to her left, where she found Luc. He knelt at her side, pressing something onto her back. Bandages?

Luc’s smile looked forced. “How… how are you feeling?”

She groaned softly. “Remind me… never get into a knife fight with a magician. Never again.”

“The wound looks worse than it is,” he said softly, “I had to give you emergency stitches. We would’ve gotten you some healing runes too, but, y’know….”

“How’d you spin that to Caiya?”

Luc scowled. “She hasn’t stopped fussing over His Highness since he dragged you out of the tunnel. You were both in pretty bad shape, he’s malnourished and weakened, but you were the one who was unconscious. He tried to get her to help you first, if it helps.”

Reese made to push herself upright, but Luc stopped her. “Hold on, let me help you.” He slowly lifted her from the ground and propped her against a nearby wall. “I need to finish tying your bandages, and then we can get you something to prevent infection.”

She hissed through her teeth at a sudden spike of pain from the wound in her back. “Do you have anything that can stop the pain?”

“Nothing that I haven’t already given you.”

Silence presided between them for a few minutes while Luc wound the bandages around Reese’s torso. She listened idly to snatches of the conversation between Damian and Caiya while ignoring the throbbing in her head and the twinging in her back.

“I told you, Caiya,” Damian said patiently, “she said her name was Natali Tallis.”

“And need I tell you,” Caiya snapped, “that ‘Natali Tallis’ died nearly a decade ago? Her body was burned and mangled almost beyond recognition due to a backfire in her rune structure.”

Damian sighed and took a cautious sip of water. “But can you deny that the description matches? Is it possible that she faked her death somehow?”

Caiya froze mid-stroke, her brush dripping ink onto the ground. She flicked her wrist, finishing the rune with a quick and precise stroke before putting the brush away with a huff. “I was there, Your Highness. I was the one who had to check her pulse to declare if she was dead.” 

She exhaled slowly, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Now can you see why I find it so hard to believe she had lived?”

Damian stared at her for a long moment. He took a deep breath and glanced at the rune she’d drawn on his forearm. The cuts left on his wrist from the rough ropes had closed, leaving only faint scars. “Who’s to say she died from the knife to the heart, then?”

Impossible.

Luc glanced over at the pair. “Should we go and check, if you’re not certain?”

“I don’t know,” Damian said softly, “you never really know with Stalkers, do you—?”

“It’s not possible,” Reese stated.

“But—”

“It’s not!” she snapped, wincing. “I stabbed her through the heart, yes. But any healing runes she might have used, written or spoken, would not have worked. She wounded me with the knife first. I then pierced her heart using the same knife. That knife was dripping with my own blood. It would have weakened, if not completely nullified her magic. She didn’t survive.”

Damian nodded in understanding, but Caiya frowned in confusion.

“Was that why you got stabbed?!” Luc hissed under his breath as he tied the loose ends of the bandages together, securing the binding.

“You think I meant to get stabbed?”

“I seem to recall our first lesson being ‘Don’t Get Stabbed, Reese’.”

Reese snorted and immediately regretted it. “Ow….”

Luc slowly rose to his feet, the concern evident on his face. “Do you think you can stand? We should get you home.”

She stared at him for a long moment before seizing his arm and hauling herself up, ignoring the way the wound in her back throbbed as she moved the damaged muscles. Her head spun, and Reese tightened her grip on Luc’s arm even as he grabbed her shoulder to stabilize her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered, “I’ve been through worse.”

He sighed. “If you really think you’re alright, I should escort the prince home before anything else happens.”

Reese blinked. “I….”

Luc started to step away, but she stopped him. “Please… please don’t go and leave me alone.”

“You sure? Because if you’re not feeling up to it I can—”

“I’m sure.” She took a step forward, sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth. “I just… I don’t know. I just don’t want to be left alone.”

Luc nodded in understanding. “Of course. I can have an experienced doctor reevaluate your stitches at the palace.” He smiled reassuringly. “Not that I don’t trust my own work… but I have to admit my hands were shaky.”

Damian rose to his feet, Caiya quickly following suit. He joined them near the wall, absently rubbing at the scars on his wrists. The ink on his arm was fading as the magic did its work. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I can take on a sang with nothing but my bare hands,” Reese said sarcastically.

He grinned. “I’d like to see that fight.”

Luc made a face. “I wouldn’t. But my money’s on the sang.”

“It’s your money,” Damian said, chuckling. “Your apprentice fought well against Natali, despite the injury. You should be very proud.”

Reese held up a hand. “Uh… I’m not his apprentice.” She glanced at Luc. “Right?”

The Watcher raised his eyebrows in an expression of reluctant agreement. “Well… he’s not wrong… and I might’ve slipped a few of Hector’s lessons into our training sessions… wasn’t on purpose, I swear!”

She punched him in the shoulder. “I’m sure Father’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“Celestials, he’s gonna kill me when he finds out about what I asked you to do.”

Reese shrugged. “Hey, I agreed to do it. Just tell him I volunteered so he blames me rather than you. But the Watcher’s apprentice thing? Dunno.”

Luc sighed through his nose. “Let’s burn that bridge when it comes to it, okay? Right now we need to be getting somewhere safer than just outside the catacombs.”

Damian nodded. “Of course, Watcher.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @whumpril

Thank you for reading this whump ficlet! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :3

[whumpetywhump]

Till The End Of The Moon - Ep. 21

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain VI

Master list here (with chapter links, summaries, and character bios)

Warnings: threat of death, power exhaustion, blood, stabbing, character brought to brink of death, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery

"Can't you lock onto their position faster?" Liam panted desperately into the communicator he clutched in his hand. He tried to keep the exhaustion he was feeling out of his voice. Henry had enough to worry about right now.

"I am working as quickly as I can, Liam. You know that." Henry's voice was a little tinny as it came through the communicator. “Just sit down and rest a bit. How close are you to burnout?”

“I’m fine,” Liam said quickly even though he felt completely spent. He knew he was close to the point of no return. Close to the point where he would burnout the powers he was abusing at this point. Close to the point where they would claim his life. But he couldn’t stop now.

Liam had been teleporting in and out of different houses throughout the city for the better part of an hour trying to narrow down the location of Jude’s latest quarry. It was exhausting, every bone, every muscle in his body begging for reprieve. But he couldn't stop. Not until he found the person that Jude hunted.

He had to get in, grab them, and get out all before Jude arrived. Liam knew Jude would attack today. And he knew that this person wouldn't live for very long after Jude arrived. Jude had been trying to acquire this power for years. Jude had been trying to find a way to strengthen himself ever since Henry and Liam had infiltrated Sluagh and blew up half a wing, injuring Jude gravely. Liam had been trying to stop Jude once and for all, and had been gravely disappointed when Jude lived. But it had shown Jude he could be hurt. And Liam was a force to be reckoned with.

And so in the years following, Jude had hunted for the rarest of powers: the ability to heal. Fortunately, it was a power so rare that it had taken this long for Jude to find someone. But as word came down that there had been a manifestation of healing, Liam knew he had to act quickly. Liam couldn’t let Jude get there first. The fate of the entire world was riding on Liam getting there first. So even though he was dancing dangerously close to the edge, Liam would throw himself over if it meant that Jude would be stopped.

"Liam, Liam are you listening?" Henry's voice came loudly over the communicator.

Liam shook his head shaking the memories away and wiping the sweat from his brow. "What did you say?"

"I found them. I've sent you the coordinates. Better hurry Jude—“

But Henry's words faded away as Liam teleported to the small home on the outskirts of town. He had to get in, grab the person, and get out before Jude arrived. Liam repeated the mantra as he moved in the in-between. It was the only thing that was keeping him going at this point.

As Liam coalesced into corporeal form, his shadows flared round him, creating a shield should anyone try to strike him. "Oh," a voice said as the shadows pulled back. Liam saw Jude's quarry, a young woman with curling, bright green hair and amber eyes. Her golden skin was brought out by the color of her hair. She was shorter than Liam, but taller than Henry. Her young face turned towards Liam. She didn't look afraid, merely surprised at Liam's appearance.

"I'm sorry," Liam panted. He was so exhausted. He had pushed his body to the brink. He took a shaking step towards the woman, his hands up showing they were empty. He felt something warm trickle down his lips. Liam quickly wiped away the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand. He didn't want to scare the woman.

"We don't have much time before--"

"You're Liam Ward." She said, watching Liam with her dark, bright eyes. "Have you come to hurt me, too?” He could see her tense as he stepped towards her. He stopped.

Liam tried to not let the comment sting. For the better part of ten years, Jude had spread the lie that Liam was evil, that Liam was responsible for countless deaths and destruction. Liam should have been used to it by now. But still, each time he went to help someone and the person recoiled from them, screamed in terror, tried to hurt him and flee, Liam couldn't help but hurt. The world believed him a villain. And while he couldn't get the world to hear him as a whole, one by one, he could show the world just how wrong the world was about him. Person by person, Liam could save them all. Could stop Jude once and for all.

"No. I don't have time to explain. But you have to come with me. Please," Liam added, letting the desperation fill his voice. If Jude absorbed this power, there would be no stopping Jude. If Jude killed this young, innocent civilian woman so he could take on the power, Jude would win and though Liam would fight—would die fighting—Jude would emerge triumphant and the world would be subject to his reign of terror forever.

Amber eyes watched Liam carefully. Liam extended his hand. "Please, I don't mean you any harm."

"Don't listen to him,” Jude said as he strode into the room. "Hello, Liam," Jude smiled darkly, "come to witness my ascension?” He looked much the same as he had the last time Liam saw him, though grey flecked his temples and his middle looked softer than it had before.

Liam put himself between the woman and Jude. He would die protecting this civilian. He wouldn't go down without a fight, and maybe, just maybe, he would drag Jude to hell with him. He could hear Henry swearing in the comms and trying to get his attention. But he didn’t want Jude to get wind of Henry’s involvement. He had too much to focus on here, he couldn’t be distracted by Henry. “I won't let you harm her." Liam fanned his shadows out, surrounding the woman with shadow, shielding the civilian instead of himself.

Jude chuckled. "That's cute." He craned his neck to try and see through Liam's shadows. "Don't let Liam lie to you. Only terrible things will come of it."

Liam heard the woman swallow. "Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you," he said softly, looking over his shoulder at the woman. Her eyes were wide with fear, her full lips quivering.

"Didn't I ever teach you to never take your eyes off your opponent?" Jude's voice was dangerously close.

Liam didn't have enough time to react and block the blade of ice from going through his thigh. He screamed as his leg buckled beneath him. The pain was excruciating as the blade exited out the other side of his thigh.

"I think this is the end of the line for you, my wayward apprentice." Jude said as he yanked the ice out. Blood dripped from the wound in a steady stream.

Liam used his shadows to patch the wound. He had let his guard down and Jude had seen right through it. If he didn't have to split his energy between guarding the civilian and fighting, he had a chance at defeating Jude. But as it was, he stood no chance. And Jude knew that.

Liam sent three quick spears of darkness at Jude, pushing Jude back though the blades had shot wide and missed him by a long shot. Before Jude could retaliate, Liam teleported to the woman. "I am sorry about this," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around the woman and teleported out. He could feel what little strength he had leeched from him as he threw everything he had into teleporting to Haven. He coughed, blood coating the back of his throat. This was not good.

"So sorry," he muttered as Haven materialized around the two of them and his legs gave out. "'m s'ry." Darkness edged his vision.

"Liam! Liam!" Henry shouted. "Hold him up," Henry ordered the woman. "He won't hurt you, clearly. Hold him up. I need to see how bad it is. I need to see!” Henry sounded so far away. Farther away than when he was on the comms. “Hold him up damn it! He won’t hurt you!”

Liam distantly felt arms around him, supporting his back. Henry's face suddenly appeared. “H-H-H-He’rrrrrrryyyyyy,” Liam breathed as Henry's features swam in and out of view.

"Dammit, Liam, I told you not to push your powers to the limit," Henry said as he wiped the blood from the corner of Liam's mouth and nose. “You should have stopped.” Henry searched Liam’s face. “I don't know if I can fix this."

For the first time in the eight years he had known Henry, Liam heard fear in Henry's voice. Fear for him. "'s kkkkk." He tried to look at the woman holding him up. "H-H-Helpppp ‘errrrrrr." He blinked, though it was a struggle to open his eyes once more. He blinked again.

"None of that, Liam," Henry tapped Liam's cheek firmly. "Keep your eyes open," Henry ordered.

Liam could feel the shadows he used to patch his leg begin to fade. Could feel the warmth of his blood flowing down his leg. Could feel himself fading into the darkness as well. He was so cold. And so tired. He just needed to slip into the dark to sleep. But he couldn’t sleep. Not yet. He had to be sure the woman was safe. That Henry could protect her. He fisted Henry's shirt, pulling Henry closer to him. "P-Protecccttt h-h-her, H-H-H-Hennnnnnryyyyyy.” Liam tried to swallow around the blood filling his mouth. He choked on the blood, coughing to clear his throat. He had used too much power. And now it was leaving him. His chest heaved as his breath rattled loudly.

Henry nodded, his dark features tight, eyes shiny with unshed tears. "Keep your eyes open, Liam. Just stay. I can figure this out. I can fix this. Please, Liam. Stay.”

"No, I can fix this," the woman said as she shifted Liam in her arms. "Thank you for protecting me, Liam. I was…I was afraid of you. But now I see you would do anything to keep me, or anyone, safe."

Liam stared up into the dark, amber eyes that no longer held fear, but concern. Dark eyes that mirrored the darkness that was trying to claim him. She was beautiful, a striking, fierce kind of beauty. As Liam's vision began to fail him, he felt the woman's warm breath on his ear. "My name is Nova Ambrose, and I won't let you die, Liam."

And Nova began to glow. Her glowing power emanating out and enveloping Liam. He was warm, so warm the cold that filled him suddenly retreating. Suddenly Liam could breathe easier. He could feel the skin on his leg re-knit itself. His pain dissipated. The warmth of Nova's glowing power filled him and Liam knew he would be ok.

Just as the light appeared, it faded, leaving Liam clutched tightly in Nova's arms. Nova gave Liam a weak smile. "That….that," she swallowed, "was more than I've ever had to heal before." She blinked heavily as she stared down at Liam.

"Thank you for saving me," Liam said softly.

Nova nodded, sagging a little as Liam sat up. Liam let Nova lean on him. "Henry, get a room prepared for Nova." Henry nodded and left. "I'll give you a proper tour once you've recovered a bit. But for now, let's get you tucked into bed." And he scooped Nova into his arms.

"Thank you," Nova murmured softly as she settled into Liam's arms. She gave a great yawn. "Thank you, Liam.”

Liam carried Nova to the third bedroom in the east wing. “S-S-So big,” Nova said as she failed to stifle a yawn.

He lay her on the bed gently. “I’ll give you the full tour in the morning.”

Nova tried to rise on shaking arms. “I can go now.”

Liam shook his head. “Rest. I owe you my life. Rest. The Haven will be here for touring when you’re ready.”

“Mmmmph,” Nova muttered as she shoved her face into the pillow.

“Sleep well,” Liam murmured as he shut the door gently behind him. He headed back to the kitchen where he knew Henry would be waiting for him.

“That was too fucking close, Liam.” Henry said as soon as Liam appeared in the doorway.

Liam closed the door. “I know,” he muttered softly. He collapsed into the nearest chair. Even though Nova had healed him, he was still exhausted. He felt as though he could sleep for a week.

“Do you? Do you?” Henry’s voice was getting louder with each word.

“I know, I’m—“

Henry punched Liam in the jaw once again. Liam stared up at Henry, his hand on his aching jaw. “I’m talking. You’re listening. Since you wouldn’t listen before. Do you know what it’s like to watch your best friend’s life drain away and you’re powerless to stop it? Do you know what it’s like to watch the only person who even has a hope of taking Jude on on the brink of death? Do you know what it’s like to not know what to do and sit helplessly while someone dies? DO YOU?”

Liam ducked his head, hair falling over his face. “I’m sorry, Henry.”

“I ALMOST LOST YOU! AND YOU’RE JUST ‘SORRY’?” Henry’s dark eyes flashed. “LIAM DAMMIT I ALMOST LOST YOU! YOU WERE DYING!” Henry began to sob. “You were dying and I couldn’t do anything.”

Liam stood up and crossed the room to Henry. He pulled Henry into a a tight hug. He held Henry tightly as Henry sobbed. “I really am sorry, Henry.”

Henry pulled back and wiped his eyes. “You can’t do that. Ever again.” He stared at Liam with red-rimmed eyes. “I can’t go through that again.”

“I wasn’t trying to die, Henry.” Liam raked his fingers through his tangled hair. “I wasn’t….I wasn’t thinking. I just had to get her away from Jude.”

“I don’t care. Next time don’t lie to me. There will always be others. There’s only one you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while rubbing his freshly buzzed hair with the other. “There’s only one you, Liam. Remember that.”

Liam opened his mouth to protest, but Henry glared at him. “I cannot watch your life drain away again. Ever.”

Liam nodded. “I won’t let it happen again, Henry.” He winced and rubbed his jaw. “Are we good or are you going to punch me again?”

Henry smirked. “You said you weren’t going to get on my bad side again. Clearly you forgot.”

Liam smiled, knowing that all was right between the two of them once more. “Won’t happen again.”

“What are we going to do with her?” Henry said as he grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge and a bag of frozen peas. He tossed the bag of peas to Liam before opening the two bottles.

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet.” Liam held the peas to his jaw. “I guess if she wants to go back we’ll have to set up a way to guard her.”

“Or we could just convince her to stay here.” Henry took a sip of his beer. “That would be a lot easier.”

Liam nodded. “I guess we’re going to do whatever she wants to do.”

Henry smiled. “I hope she stays. She looks like she’ll be a better roommate than you.”

“Hey!” Liam said as he tossed the bag of peas at Henry’s head.

Henry caught it and tossed it back, but Liam teleported away. “No fair, that’s cheating!” Only Liam’s laugh from down the hall let Henry know he heard. “Prick.”

Tags: @dutifullykrispyland@jesssmolfur@parad0xical2@st0rmm@keeper-of-all-the-random-things@pigeonwhumps@gala1981@allylovessweets

[usedtobemygirl]

me, this year: ok so I won’t get get into any romantic relationships as i cannot cope when they end & inevitably abandon me and i end up nearly dying. 2024 will be so much better because of this

the universe in 2024 after taking my best friend away from me: sike!!! you will never be happy

[chill-vibes-but-rainbow-panic]

Finally posted another Fanfiction, lads o7 Cult of the Lamb, my beloved <3

This one has been in the works for A While -_-'

(Lots of the violence is only talked about in the fic, but as always, do read the tags)