#also don't look too close at that whumptober project

[comfortlesshurt]

shhh, I know I talk about my children too much. but you can't stop my love

forgot to include this at first, whoops, but I also added a little daily par tracker so I can see it all in one place! there's a separate sheet where i update my word count every time i think about it, and then this table uses a vlookup to find the most recent word count and show it as a percent and a daily par to finish by the listed due date. (the par column compares between the overall goal and the subgoal and lists whichever par is higher between the two)

[probssomethingorother]

Whumptober No. 1 !

post-episode 8 hurt/comfort with a dash of angst

Ellie & Joel One-Shot

When she had skipped all her meals, he decided that today - day three, night four - if she didn’t eat by dinner, he would do more than just say, “okay…we’ll give it another go tomorrow.” Her body couldn’t just wait until tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. And that reality became scarily apparent to Joel not too far into the morning.

Finish reading it below the cut or on Ao3! but don't forget to drop a comment wherever you read :)

Push Through It:

The dim room was permeated with the continuous sound of dripping water. A slow, measured rhythm was created as droplets fell and splattered against an old, beaten-up plastic bucket situated in a corner. The cadence of the dripping was unexpectedly soothing, a stark contrast to the room's somber ambiance. Like the snow melting away outside, the palpable tension that had gripped them both for days seemed to be slowly ebbing away. 

But, it sure was slow. 

Ellie, though her sleep was restless and interspersed with occasional twitches or murmurs, seemed to be sleeping longer today - which seemed like progress.  With the quiet of the morning enveloping him, Joel busied himself with an old piece of wood, whittling into it, allowing the shavings to spiral and tumble listlessly onto his lap. The old leather recliner he was seated in creaked subtly under his weight; it matched the sofa on which Ellie lay. He tried to distract himself with the carving, but his thoughts kept wandering back to her. The sight of her, injured and bloodied outside that blazing restaurant was still vivid in his mind; and he tried not to stare, but ever since finding her the need to check she was with him was compulsive. His eyes would dart to her, always just a few feet away from him, confined to this small living space, but no matter how many times he checked, his brain worried that one time he would look up and find an empty couch - just like how he once looked up and found an empty basement, his Ellie gone. 

But of course, this house wasn’t the basement, this living room wasn’t the basement. Ellie was always in eye line. He had got her back, safe, maybe not sound. 

The couch wasn’t much of a bed for her, but the mattresses in the two bedrooms were black with mold and the living room furniture had been spared the same fate.  He had wished he could give her something better, but after literally stumbling into this house on the far side of the neighborhood- the furthest away from the resort and even further than the one Ellie had found for them- Joel had no energy to relocate when he came to find the state of the rooms. And apart from the unusable bedrooms, the rest of the place wasn’t half bad. The kitchen even blessed them with some supplies and some food - three cans of beans, one can of minestrone soup, a bag of brown rice, and a family-size can of pumpkin puree.

However, they had not made much of a dent in any of it. Both their appetites had been pretty non-existent since he was stabbed and she was .. well… traumatized. 

Ellie had remained closed-lipped about what went down while she was away from him. He knew it had to do with cannibals - he saw the bodies hanging, blood draining, ready to be parred into filets - but Joel also knew there was more to it than just that, more that had left her so anxious that her desire for food was stripped away. She endured something more that left her constantly nauseous, struggling to keep anything down once she forced it in. It had been days since finding her and he was sure her caloric intake was totaling maybe two hundred- if that.

Truthfully though, he wasn’t doing much better. Now not riding on the adrenaline of finding her, the pain outputting from his side was excruciating, and while he could push through the searing ache to be steady as he looked after her, Joel couldn’t will his body to ignore his own nausea tied to it all.  Still, he was fairing better than her, his body having much more excess to burn through while he purposefully steered away from food.  

It was easy to tell she was more fragile than before when they were last fully together - at the University - but it was hard to tell if it was just the poor nutrition or a mix of a myriad of other mental and physical things compounding together. She tried to keep them hidden, but Joel had gotten glimpses of the bruises plastering several areas of her body while they held up here - her shirt riding up her midriff when she withered around in her sleep on the couch, legs exposed when she switched into a pair of grey shorts when they washed her jeans, neck on full display when she leaned her head back over the sink for Joel to wash the carnage from her hair. He never said anything, but he knew each mark probably was weighing on her psyche more than its physical manifestation. 

Ellie used to be a bull in a china shop, but now she seemed like the porcelain on the verge of breaking.

He wanted to push her recovery along, get her to eat more, and build up her strength, but he feared it would break her. The risk of overwhelming her was a gamble Joel was hesitant to take. He didn’t want to be responsible for making her worse.

But that was also a two-way street. He couldn’t let her get worse. So, yesterday, when she had skipped all her meals, he decided that today - day three, night four - if she didn’t eat by dinner, he would do more than just say, “okay…we’ll give it another go tomorrow.” 

Her body couldn’t just wait until tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

And that reality became scarily apparent to Joel not too far into the morning. 

She awoke with a sharp intake of breath, a clear indication of a turbulent dream. Joel's gaze met hers from where he sat, but he remained still, not going to soothe her, remembering her dislike for being crowded - got an angry push out of it the other day from just sitting too close to her on the couch after the same situation. 

He raised an eyebrow, a silent inquiry about her well-being. She nodded slightly, her head brushing against the worn leather of the couch, before slowly sitting up.

For several minutes, she remained upright, her gaze distant as she processed the lingering fragments of her dream. Joel observed her carefully, noting the worsening bruises on her hairline and jaw, now a deeper shade of purple. Dark circles under her eyes stood out starkly against her pale skin. He hoped today would be the last day she awoke worse than when he had put her to bed, but Joel also knew the bruises would just turn another ugly shade of some other color as they healed, and every day he had to be confronted with them would be worse than the last. 

It pained him deeply.

“Nee- gonna go pee,” Ellie mumbled while rising to stand, a minuscule sway hitting her body as she came vertical. 

Setting his carving and knife on the armrest, Joel eased out of the recliner.  “Yeah, no problem,” he said gently, almost sweetly, ready to help her. Tenderness seemed to flow out of him now, rugged demeanor gone, like he was making up lost time for not being so gentle over the last several months.

“I’m not a baby, I can go pee by myself.” She asserted, waving him off as she turned toward the sliding door that led to the backyard. 

He had been escorting her out there each bathroom break, hovering within modesty while she did her business before leading them both back inside. The first night and morning it was a necessity. She was dizzy from hitting her head and her body ached so severely from being thrown around that she barely could move without toppling over. He held her upright as they made it outside and propped her up against the house, leaving an arm outstretched on the edge of her shoulder to keep her from careening into the ground, while he diverted his eyes and hummed to make her embarrassment a little less acute. The following days were better, transitioning from less and less aid with each go, but her request for no support was a bit jarring, especially since she still looked so unsteady on her feet. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah dude,” she mumbled as she hobbled away, body still rigid with lingering pain. She had been sleeping with her shoes on - ready if they needed to run - and they thudded softly as they slid across the cold hardwood, barely able to lift them as she walked.

The sight didn’t inspire any confidence in her abilities, and with a mix of concern and reluctance, Joel instinctively moved forward, trailing her. 

“Why don’t I-“

“I can do it, ” Ellie snapped, cutting him off. 

Her hands came to the handle of the slider and grasped it firmly, tugging it open hard with a clear grimace, her whole body jerking to the side with the effort. Joel swore he saw her eyes roll with a wave of dizziness at just the simple effort, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t going to fight her. 

“I’ll be back in like a second.” She told him as she crossed outside, cold air swarming in as she left the glass door open in her wake. 

Joel wrung his hands nervously as he stood alone in the living room, weight shifting from one foot to the other, every fiber of his being screaming at him to follow her - make sure she was safe. 

One second turned two, then three, and then it was a minute turning two and then three. 

A pit of dread settled in his stomach. His hands were going sweaty with worry. With a deep sigh, he made his way across the room and to the door, hoping to quell his anxieties with a simple check. 

He would just get a quick eye on her- that was it - keep his distance inside, poke his head through, and go back to his place in the middle of the living room.  She wanted space, so he would try to give her it as much as his anxious heart could bear. 

But, a quick peak quickly turned to Joel bursting through the door with a surge of adrenaline, eyes quickly locating her body flat in the snow. 

His feet hastily crunched through white powder, boots sinking in and slowing him down, tripping over his own feet as he flung himself forward. He didn’t shout for her, but his heart screamed to reach her. She was tantalizingly close, maybe fifty feet. She had tried to take a shortcut, moving diagonally from the corner of the house probably in an effort to save time,  but it had done just the opposite, too much for her. She should have just trailed the edge of the house, or relieved herself on the patio, where the walk was mere steps and the snow wasn’t so deep.

His heart thumped loudly inside his chest with each rushed step, fear filling every part of him. Joel quite literally dropped to his knees when he reached her, making his face twist in pain with the jerk, body still in no state to be moving like that, in a frantic panicky dash.

“Ellie?” He choked out, her name getting caught in his throat as his hand shakily hovered over her form, momentarily petrified with a fear that she was suddenly dead. 

An aneurism, a blood clot, internal bleeding…what if…so many things had the possibility of tearing her away from him in an instant. Yet, thankfully, the soft rise and fall of her body were contradictory to his dark intrusive thoughts. She was very much still alive. 

She was lying on her side, half her face obscured by the snow, the other half covered by the loose bits of her brown hair.  She had on his old weathered coat - barely had taken it off since he had given it to her - and it somehow just made her look smaller against the white ground. 

Swallowing hard, he lowered his head closer to hers. With trembling fingers, he brushed her hair aside.

“..hey, baby girl, Ellie?” he murmured, his hand moving from her face to rest on her shoulder, hoping for some sign of something. But as seconds passed in silence, with her eyes remaining shut, a note of desperation crept into his voice. "Don't do this, kiddo…” he whispered, heart heavy. 

Then, without warning, her eyes snapped open. They darted around, taking a moment to register her surroundings. As her gaze slid leftward, she caught sight of Joel's hand on her shoulder, and for an instant, a flicker of disdain passed over her eyes. That fleeting emotion was all Joel needed to see,  was enough to know that she was okay, or at least as okay as before she came out here. 

He removed his hand immediately, and with a sigh of relief, he sat back a bit, letting his body decompress from the sudden adrenaline boost. 

“Why don’t we…ah get ya inside, okay?” Joel suggested gently, softly, suppressing a grimace as he worked his way to standing, knees cracking, pain in his side flaring.

Ellie let an inadvertent whine as she pushed herself to sitting, snow still stuck to her face and half her body. She took a second to wipe it away from her cheek with her sleeve as Joel came around behind her. 

“I’m just gonna -“ he began to prompt as his hands snaked under armpits and hoisted her up quickly. The action should have hurt his body more, but Ellie felt far lighter than what was normal, far lighter than any weight that would cause Joel considerable strain. When she was straight he held his hand gently in between her shoulder blades, watching her sway for a second before she eventually steadied herself. He would have let her get her bearings longer, but Ellie had other plans, already taking a shaky, step forward and back to the house.  

He gently wiped some lingering snow off her back as he followed behind her, arms at the ready in case she suddenly pitched back or dropped down, ready to catch her. With the way she looked, he had no faith it wouldn’t happen again. 

A memory of baby Sarah flashed in his head then, quick but poignant- walking behind her in the backyard, arms hovering around her as she tried taking quick steps, just learning that you can move your feet more than one long step at a time. Toddling along, he watched nervously, just as he did with Ellie now, although far different circumstances. 

Once inside, Ellie made a beeline for the couch, sinking into it as if trying to disappear. Joel quickly slid the door closed behind them, pausing for a moment to observe her. She sat there, lost in a distant gaze, reminiscent of her posture from earlier that morning, eyes vacant, staring somewhere far off, silent. 

He’s noticed she goes this way sometimes now, sometimes sitting, sometimes lying down, but always lights on, nobody home. Initially, he’d assumed it was a physical pain that caused these episodes.but now, living with day three of this, he knows it's beyond that. Still, every time she goes blank, and especially when it lasts several minutes, it is no less disconcerting than the first time it happened days ago: 

“Ellie, hey, you’re okay..just..listen to me Ellie, what hurts baby?…Somethin’ hurtin’?… El can you focus on me for a sec? Please…come’on…say somethin’ kiddo…”

Joel was getting better about not outwardly panicking about it though. Wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs he moved over to her, sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, the old wood creaking under the weight. Carefully, he nudged her knees apart, positioning himself between her and the couch, edging closer than she probably wanted. He paused, allowing her a moment to register his proximity, then gently tilted his head, attempting to catch her faraway gaze.

“Is it your head, again?” he inquired softly, lowering his voice just in case she had gone so far off that she hadn’t realized how close he was. 

Her eyes darted down, followed by a shallow tilt of her head in the same direction. 

She was still with him, just quiet. 

Joel delicately lifted her chin with the tip of his pointer finger, seeking her gaze. However, Ellie deliberately averted her eyes, casting them to the side instead. 

“How many fingers?” Joel questioned, putting one solitary finger up to her face. 

“I’m not blind dumbass.” she snapped, finally locking eyes with him, her irritation evident.

“Can you follow my finger then?” He pressed. 

Begrudgingly, Ellie complied as Joel moved his finger up down, and side to side. Her pupils looked normal, and her reaction time was fine. Joel's heart settled a bit, knowing she didn't show signs of severe head injury like he had feared when discovering her face-down in the snow

“Nothin’ hurting more than yesterday?” he probed gently.

With a pout, she shook her head. 

Joel's internal checklist moved swiftly: likely no internal bleeding or clots. Which really only left one thing. 

“Did you just get dizzy? Pass out?”

Ellie bit her lip and moved her eyes away from him again, nodding her head. She looked annoyed, but not exactly at Joel, more at herself. Tears pricked at her waterline, and Joel tactfully looked away. No sense in embarrassing her about it. She was clearly struggling with not being as ambulatory or independent as she normally was. 

Joel lowered his head and nodded, knowing he couldn’t hold off pushing her any longer. 

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, his voice was firm: “You’re eating today.” 

His words weren’t posed as a question or a suggestion; they were an unequivocal directive. Ellie's body needed food, desperately needed energy - he had to get fuel into her. Joel would be pushy and mean about it if it came to it, would fight her if it meant not letting her body wither away.

Ellie's lips parted, as if readying to protest, but instead, they pressed shut again. 

“You ain’t going to get any better without anything in ya,” he said as he stood, crossing over to the kitchen. 

“I know,” Ellie whispered, her voice heavy with resignation, chin to chest as she picked at her cuticles in her lap, trying to push down overwhelming personal frustration. 

“Beans or soup?” Joel called over his shoulder. 

“Beans,” Ellie grumbled, flopping backward on the couch, head cast back to look up at the ceiling. She blinked away her tears. 

“Alrighty then,” Joel said under his breath, taking the can of beans in his hands and spinning it around absently as he gathered the rest of the cooking supplies.

She was going to eat. 

                                                                      ----

Ellie was not eating. 

Her fingers drummed against the worn-out wooden table, the soft rhythmic beat echoing her internal turmoil. The food in front of her was just barely releasing wisps of steam, but her appetite was nowhere in sight. Each whorl of vapor felt like a taunt, challenging her.  She continued to stare at it, the contents threatening to go cold. She had dragged herself to the kitchen table almost ten minutes ago, five minutes after Joel had set it down for her, and she still couldn’t even bring herself to touch the spoon.

"Ellie," he said, his voice carrying the deep richness of concern. "You can't keep doing this.” Joel leaned over, continuing to sternly implore, ”You need to eat it.” 

His arm came from over behind her shoulder to mix the contents of the bowl, hoping that would coax her into taking some of it in before settling back behind her, hovering.

The thought of eating felt utterly disgusting, and the thought of throwing it all back up - a very plausible future - was even more disgusting.

“It’s going to come right back up,” she huffed as her hand stilled with a soft slap to the table. Her mind wandered back to the first bowls of rice, the spoonfuls of pumpkin, the water, and the bile that all had forcefully been expelled from her body in the days before. She feared it was just going to be the same - gut painfully clenching up until nothing was left. 

“You won’t know that till it goes down, ” Joel quipped back, without much empathy. 

A long-dormant part of him was coming back alive, old paternal authority reigniting deep in his soul. He would wait hours for her to take a bite, stand behind her with his hands on hips all day if he had to. 

He used to wear Sarah out the same way, wait all night long until she finally ate three tiny pieces of broccoli - and that was during far less dire times. 

“Start with a bite.”

“Joel.”

“It’s getting cold, come ‘on,” he pushed, his tone soft yet firm as his hands settled onto the back of her chair, urging her to eat.

Ellie exhaled deeply, allowing her head to drop onto the table in a dramatic fashion, her ponytail brushing perilously close to the bowl's contents.

Joel let out a weary sigh. He remembered these battles, from another life lived, and if it wasn’t so important he stay here with Ellie in the present, he probably would let his mind slip back there, indulge in the melancholy memories. 

“Want me to feed you?” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Fuck off dude,” Ellie shot back. Her retort was slightly muffled, the words somewhat stifled by the table beneath her cheek.

“Then have at it,” he replied, giving her arm a little pat as he leaned over again to reposition the bowl more out of the way of her head. 

Ellie reluctantly pushed herself up, her movement emphasized by an exaggerated groan that rippled from her chest.  The drama of it all would make Joel feel more relaxed - that was the Ellie he knew - if it wasn’t for the fact that she still was refusing to even attempt to stomach the food. 

“You haven’t eaten enough since we got here and your body can’t heal without it,” he reminded her. 

“I know,” she murmured with an almost childlike defiance.

“Then just eat,” he pushed again, trying to be firm but not harsh. 

There was a moment of silence as Ellie dragged in an audible breath. 

“Then.. why don’t - you….you’re calling a cup black Joel.." 

The words tumbled out of her in a mumble, more quietly than she had been in the rest of the conversation, trying to deflect but not doing it with much gumption. 

Joel almost didn’t understand it at first, brow furrowing in confusion before quickly raising in realization. 

"Pot calling the kettle black…not cup," he gently corrected, settling into a seat across from her at the rickety old table. He would wait with her to eat, sure, but his body was getting awfully tired of standing for so long. 

"Oh..well.. whatever…you need food too," she said, sliding the bowl over the cracked wood top to him. 

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, truly taking in her face - he could clearly see the spark of her old self, stubborn and fiery, shining through her eyes. 

He dragged in his own long breath. 

"I ain’t…” he began, ready to tell her that his stomach literally couldn’t stomach it, but the hypocrisy was almost blindingly glaring. He knew she was feeling the same way, a mental wound driving her issues rather than a physical one. 

After a heavy pause and a slow nod, Joel conceded. 

“Bite for bite then.”

Despite his throat feeling tight, and his stomach rolling, he grabbed the spoon and took a bite of the canned beans he had warmed for her. He would swallow down the almost overwhelming urge to vomit if it meant she would try to do the same.

Pushing the bowl back to her, he met her gaze, determination clear in his eyes.  He held out the spoon to her. 

”Your turn."

Ellie reluctantly took the spoon from him, her hands trembling slightly as she scooped up a small spoonful of beans. She brought it to her mouth and hesitated, her gaze fixed on Joel as if seeking reassurance.

"You can do it," he encouraged softly, his own discomfort temporarily set aside to focus on her. He watched as she finally took the bite, her face contorting briefly before she managed to swallow it. The soft beans might as well have gone down like a mouth of pebbles, and she could already feel them hanging heavy in her gut.  

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

[rd-eternity]

Whumptober Oneshot: Day 5 Prompts - “You better pray I don't get up this time around.” | Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Ever since becoming the alpha of Beacon Hills, Liam never feels like he's doing enough. When he leaves alone, intending to fix that, he gets in over his head.

He leans back, eyes shuttering closed. He’s too far away from any of his pack for them to hear his roar. There’s no one coming to save him. A gun clicks. Liam’s eyes snap open, staring up at the huntress standing above him. She looks put together, considering she dropped a building on both of them. Her smirk is haunting. “So sad, to die an alpha without his pack at his side.” Metal cracks against her skull, sending her to the ground. In her place is his perfect, stunning, wonderful and also extremely pissed off boyfriend, holding Mason’s bat over one shoulder. “You’re so fucking stupid."

[writerartistdreamer]

Title: You'll have to go through me

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

(You can also find this on AO3!)

Posting Day: 28

Prompt Day 28: "You'll have to go through me"

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Characters: Belle, Rumplestiltskin, an intruder

Summary: An intruder shows up in the Dark Castle when the protection barriers are down. Belle handles him, Rumple finds her and handles him too.

An intruder was afoot in the Dark Castle. She didn't know how they got in, didn't know how they managed to pass by the magical barriers and she didn't know what to do. Rumplestiltskin was gone on one of his many deals that particular day and he perhaps forgot to strengthen the barriers around the castle, that was the only explanation Belle could find regarding the intruder. She tried to hide in one of the many chambers in the castle and quickly found her way out so she could find a weapon to wield, in case the person turned out to try and harm her. She heard footsteps coming in her direction and, before she could run or hide once again, she was found by a cloaked figure with a dagger in their hand.

"Where is Rumplestiltskin? I demand to know, for I am looking for him" the cloaked figure spoke, the voice of a man being heard echoing in the hallway of the Dark Castle. He gripped his dagger as he looked over at the small figure of the woman, questioning why she would even be there in the first place. Was she also looking for the sorcerer? Was she trapped in the castle? Why was a woman such as her even there?

"Rumplestiltskin is not here at the moment and will not be here for the rest of the day. I do not know where he is. If you have a request for him, you can tell me what it is and I can tell him when he returns", Belle spoke, her voice unwavering, standing bravely as she hid her weapon behind her back. Her eyes moved from him, to his dagger and back to him, trying to figure out what his next move may be, what he may be trying to do after her dismissal. Trespassing on their estate was not a good sign and she was willing to bet anything that his intentions were not anywhere near kind.

"You're his little wench, are you? Speaking like that for him? You know something, you must know. I do not believe you for one moment", the man shouted angrily and instantly dived for Belle, who slipped away from him. He tried to use his dagger to attack her, to slice through in some way, yet his disorganized moves did not as he scrambled to attempt to touch her. She managed to kick him to the floor, yet he quickly tripped her up as he tugged on her leg, making her fall on her stomach, her weapon landing far away from her hand. He stood up and grabbed her, holding her trapped in his arms, dagger to her throat. "You will tell me where he is and you will tell me now", the man threatened, pressing the blade dangerously close.

Belle spied around and noticed where her weapon was, knowing she wouldn't manage to get it back. She yelled when he trapped her in his arms and thought of what she could be doing to escape him and get rid of him. She felt the sharp blade of the dagger pressed against her neck and strained her mind to find a way to at least knock the breath out of him. She raised her hands in order to seem helpless, innocent, and kept scrambling for a way to get herself out of the situation at hand. "I don't know where he is! Truly! I can help you if you just let me go", Belle addressed him as she kept her hands up, trying to remain calm throughout it. It would have been good if Rumplestiltskin was there to help, if he was there to reinforce the damned protection barriers he seemed to be so proud of. The girl quickly thought of something and pushed his arm with both of her hands, trapping the dagger to her body, against middle, away from her throat. She quickly slipped from his grip and twisted his arm around, making him scream and drop the dagger.

In that moment, Rumplestiltskin poofed himself back into the castle, only to find the intruder pinned by Belle, who angrily twisted his arm back and then kicked him to the ground as the cloaked figure once again screamed. "How did he get in here? It...it seems you have it handled", the sorcerer spoke, surprise and shock marring his face as he watched his little maid so easily handle the man that, he presumed, tried to hurt her.

"Oh, you're back! Your barriers were down and he somehow slipped through, looking for you. Had me under a dagger and everything", Belle explained to him as she sighed, once again kicking the man and making sure to kick the dagger as fair away from him as possible.

The man tried to get back on his feet, staring daggers at the girl, yet was kicked back by Rumplestiltskin himself, who angrily let magic burst through. "Oh I don't think so, dearie. If you wanted to speak to me, you should have known better than to try and hurt my maid. Nobody takes from the Dark One and goes unharmed. If you want to hurt her, you'll have to go through me", Rumplestiltskin spoke angrily and poofed cuffs on the man's wrists.

The intruder stood up and rapidly hurried towards Belle, yet she was prepared as she simply moved away and tripped him with her leg, making him fall over himself. He once again stood up and tried to attack her, only to have Rumplestiltskin cuff his legs, bringing him right down on the floor. The sorcerer stood above him, casting a flame out of his hand as directed it towards the cloaked intruder. "Any last words?", he hissed through his teeth, yet was stopped by his little maid, who took a hold of his arm.

"Rumple, no. Don't kill him, it's not worth it", Belle pleaded with him, her gaze finding his as she held on to his arms, until he got rid of the flames with a sigh. Before she could say anything else, he poofed the man away from the castle and kept his dagger with a satisfied smile. "Where did you send him off to?", Belle asked as she stared at the sorcerer for a few moments, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Oh, nowhere in particular. Just a jail cell, far, far away from him, where he will remain to respond for his crimes. Nobody harms what is mine", Rumplestiltskin responded, before handing the dagger to her, observing her from head to toe. "Very well done today, dearie. You disarmed him rather quickly and brought him done with such ease. I'm impressed"

"Why thank you. I've had some training. It is important for me to know how to defend myself", Belle replied with a sweet smile, before grabbing the intruder's dagger and holding it for a while, testing the grip. "Come on, let's go put this in the glass cabinet. Then you can reinforce those barriers", the maid offered and tugged him by his sleeve as they walked downstairs to the Great Hall, where they could relax and enjoy the rest of their day over a cup of tea.

[dark9896]

Whumptober 2023

Day 8: "Because I don't wanna hurt you" [x Femt]

"Stay back out of here!" Femt threw an empty beaker at the door, "You don't need to be in here!"

Backing away from the broken glass, you jogged back into the bedroom; slamming the door behind you out of fear. Laying on the bed, you tried controlling your emotions. You hadn't been hurt physically, but Femt was the last person you thought would ever yell at you like that. Let alone throw anything at you.

It was just a little too much when you weren't fully over your horrid ex. And now Femt was starting to act the same...

.

Pushing the bedroom door open, Femt was surprised to see you already fast asleep. It was extremely early for sleeping, and a little late for a nap. Not that Femt would ever tell you what to do, he was just a little surprised given that you usually pulled him to bed at a reasonable hour.

Debating poking you awake, he started changing. Preparing for a shower so he could snuggle up to you. At least be comfortable and cuddle you while he dozed off. At least until you stirred on your own.

Grinning as he approached the bed, Femt was deeply hurt when you shrank away, "Dearie? What's wrong?"

Turning and hiding in the pillows, all you could manage was a soft whimper in response.

"Not feeling too good then?" Femt sat on the bed, reaching for you, "You should have told me--"

Even without looking at him, you scooted away from his outstretched hand. Femt frowned harder, this wasn't adding up at all. What was going on? Why were you being like this?

"Dearie..." Femt got up, circling around to the other side of the bed, "What's going on? Is there something wrong? I won't know if you don't tell me."

Peeking at the face very close to you, just over the edge of the bed. It was clear that your actions had hurt him, but his actions had also hurt you. Your voice was very small sounding, quiet to an extreme degree.

"I just... I didn't want to bother you."

Femt frowned, he'd heard this all before. You rarely ever meant the direct words you said, "Sweet dearie, you could never bother me. What is this really about?"

"The... beaker..." You hid in the pillows again, "You threw at me earlier..."

Stopping with his mouth half-open, Femt didn't have a response for that. He did throw a beaker at the door you'd opened. But that wasn't meant to harm you.

"Where did it hit you?" He stood, wandering off to find the first aid kit, "I was aiming for the door, the door frame at best. You should have told me what I did."

You sat up slowly, "No, you... you didn't hit me. Not physically anyways..."

Turning quickly in the door of the bathroom attached to the bedroom, he tilted his head. This wasn't adding up for Femt, until his memory caught up with his line of logic. Then he practically teleported to the bed, ignoring how you shrank away as he squeezed you in a tight hug.

"Dearie! Why didn't you say anything sooner?" He wasn't letting up, you were squished against his chest, "I wasn't trying to hurt you! I threw that because I didn't want you to get hurt by my little project!"

It was a struggle to push Femt off enough so you could breathe, "Femt! I still need oxygen!"

"But you were hurt by me!"

"And it'll get worse if you don't ease up!"

He only let up a little bit, threatening to lay on top of you. It would be impossible to get away from Femt for a while, he never took these transgressions lightly. No matter the reason, he would make it up to you. And figure out a way to think in the moment when he was working on his projects.

[tarlos-spain]

Whumptober Day 19 -Numbness

Fandom: 9-1-1 Lone Star

Pairing: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Characters: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand

Engine noises in the dark

Chapter 4:

Two more days passed in which Carlos did not wake up, two days in which Owen had to force TK to sleep, to close his eyes for a few minutes when he spent too many hours without moving from the chair, to eat despite his son's repeated phrase "I'm not hungry, Dad."

He brought him sandwiches to the room, the occasional hot one, and Gabriel and Andrea themselves were bringing him food, as if he were their own son; they forced him to eat and rest.

"Why do I suddenly have three parents? Tell me Mom's not on her way, Dad." "Your mother wanted to come, but I figured you didn't want any more stress on top of that. She's made me promise to keep you informed of everything that's going on, at least twice a day." "Thanks, Dad."

During those days, Judd not only had three fathers, he also had several older brothers, with Judd keeping him company and trying to keep him informed about what was going on at the barracks; Matthew trying to keep him in good humor with his jokes and quips; and Paul and Marjan just dropping by to keep him company.

Vega took the girls the next morning because they were worried about Carlos and Nancy was just there when the shift ended to keep him a little more company.

The doctor came by after seven in the evening of the second day and the news couldn't have been better. They had run tests, the swelling in Carlos' head was going away.

He could not promise him or the Kings who were there when Carlos would wake up, but it was likely that he would soon.

TK did not want to sleep that night under any circumstances. It didn't matter who told him, neither his father nor Andrea, nor his mother on the phone. He didn't know what it was, but he felt something inside him. Sleeping now was a bad idea.

So he stayed there, with the light off so as not to disturb Carlos while he slept. He curled up in the chair next to the bed, hugging his legs and staring at his boyfriend. Something was about to happen, although the fear he felt wouldn't let him know if it was something good or not.

He stroked Carlos' hair so that the blindfold had been removed from his head.

"I wish you could tell me when you're going to wake up. I don't care if you need a few more days, whatever it takes to feel better. But if I had a time, a date, the assurance that you're coming back to me..." "Tiger..."

He nearly fell out of his chair hearing that.

For a moment TK thought he was dreaming, that he had fallen asleep and his brain was playing a practical joke on him by making him think things were going better.

But no, he wasn't asleep. His eyes were open and he was looking at Carlos who was starting to open his eyes.

"Babe, you're awake. Babe, Carlos, can you hear me?" "I'm... here..." "No... I'm not dreaming. I'm not dreaming." TK sat up on the edge of the bed and walked over to Carlos. "Babe, my love. I knew you were coming back, I knew you would never leave me." "It's you that helped me come back. You were there, it was dark and scary, but you were there to give me strength and help me." "I don't know what that means, but yeah, sure, I'm going to be with you wherever you are, babe."

TK alerted the doctor to run the necessary tests so he could tell them if the miracle was happening.

And it was true, the miracle was happening, Carlos was awake and every minute he was more serene, he was able to think better and spoke almost not normally and by the looks of it his memory was apparently in perfect condition.

Then it was time for the first physical tests, to move his arms and legs and check that his back was fine. It would take him a few weeks to walk, with three broken bones between the two legs; but as soon as he was able to move his fingers, both toes and the hand in a cast, hopes were high.

"Why can't I move the other arm, doctor?" Carlos said when he was fully aware of what was happening around him. "It's normal that with traumas like the ones your body has suffered, not everything goes back to normal at the same time." "But my whole arm and hand feels numb. It's there, I can feel that, but I'm not able to move it." "We're going to wait a few days to see how it evolves and in the meantime we'll run some tests."

He felt useless, thinking he would never be himself again. Carlos knew he couldn't go back to being a cop with a dead arm. Then there was TK, with everything he had been through those days, making him suffer more with his fears or with the idea of being a handicapped person.

But he didn't know how to bring it up, although in the end it was TK who during his third day after waking up, sat up in bed and grabbed the arm he kept attached to his body.

"It's weird, I feel like you're touching me, but I can't move my damn arm." Carlos protested under his breath and slapped the cast on his arm. "Hey, no need to break your other arm too, babe." "Not that it matters much, I can't move it either so..." "Don't you dare say that! The doctor said it's normal. You'll move it again." "And if it doesn't pass, if I don't move it again, if I can't be a cop anymore, if..." "Yeah what? Being a cop isn't everything and even if I never move my arm again, you're always going to be you. I'm going to love you, whether you're a cop, spend a little time now in the hospital and you have to look for a new job too." "Sometimes I think I don't deserve you, baby."

TK took his arm and kissed his hand.

"You feel that don't you?" Carlos nodded. "Then everything will be back to normal, babe, I'm sure of it." "What would I do without having you with me?" TK answered him with a kiss and the best smile. "By the way Any word on the car that hit me?" "No, the police are still looking for him, but with no witnesses and no security camera to record it, they say it will be very hard to track him down. I hate to think no there's not going to be anyone to pay for leaving you to die in the street." "TK..." "No, don't tell me that stuff about them finding them or what..." "No, baby, look."

TK followed Carlos' gaze and smile to the hand pressed to his chest and realized that although it was only a slight movement, he had just moved his index finger.

"Did you do that? "I think so."