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bubblegumgothglados · 4 months ago

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This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

#lessons in kink

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rottencherrypie · 3 months ago

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R-18+; Harder, Better, Faster...

Summary - Comparing three dwarves to your exes...

Warnings - Smut, language, male genitalia, mention of bodily fluids, creampie, rough sex, lowkey breeding kink (maybe?), slight dom themes (Thorin and Fili)

Pronouns & POVs - None, third-person.

Pairings - Thorin x Reader, Fili x Reader, Kili x Reader

Word Count - 2,500+

A/N - I am once again stumped on the full smut I am writing and was listening to music when "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" by Daft Punk came on which for some reason sparked this idea. (I have had this sitting in my drafts for far too long.) Pure smut under the cut!

Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

- thorin

Harder. When it came to your past lovers, there always seemed to be something lacking when it came to more intimate activities. It was not that your past lovers were awful, but they never seemed to get you to the finish line, so you began handing out fake trophies.

It was hard to explain your desires. It was not that your previous lovers treated you poorly in or out of the bedroom; they treated you as if you were a fragile flower in and out of the bedroom, and that was the issue.

It was not an issue outside the bedroom: you loved being doted upon, having your every wish and command acted upon without question. Yet, when it came to inside the sheets -- you preferred it hard. It was simple, the easiest thing to grasp in your mind, but your previous lovers seemed to absorb the information as well as glass absorbs water; it doesn't.

It appeared hopeless until you had met Thorin.

The journey to the Misty Mountains had been treacherous. One that had left all members littered with new bumps and bruises, as well as new scars that littered their bodies alongside bruised, potentially even fractured, bones.

Throughout the journey, the company of dwarves experienced several hard struggles. Ones that took them many hours, if not days, to resolve; their nights often spent pondering as they gazed upon the stars. Yet, the stars held no answers regarding the hardest hassle they had dealt with: convincing you to accept aid.

It was not if you were neglecting yourself; you accepted food and medical aid when needed, yet you refused items the company of dwarves attempted to gift you -- such as new clothes and boots. You had been perfectly fine repairing your clothes when you had a moment. After all, the cloak you journeyed with had covered any tears within your outfit, so it was not as if the world could see the flesh the cloth once shielded.

You reminded yourself that you had to travel light: extra luggage meant extra weight, which meant extra aches and pains from lugging around said weight all day. Yet, there had been the odd occasion upon your travels where an item had caught your eye.

You had managed to stay strong until you passed it. The most beautiful pair of boots you had yet to see, in a color you adored and a style you knew was comfortable for travel: they looked perfect. You could not help but approach the stall, making small talk with the woman who ran it as you examined the boots from afar; they even appeared to be your size!

It appeared to be too good to be true, and that it was. You had been a few coins short of purchasing them, and attempting to barter the boots down to what you had was out of the question -- you needed the coins to pay for your next meal.

"How much?" The dwarven king asked from beside you, his sharp sapphire gaze glued upon the same boots. The suddenness of his deep voice startled you as you were quick to look at him, as he stood there with his arms crossed at his chest, leaning back slightly, a stance he often did while in thought.

"How much for the boots?" The dwarf repeated the question in a low and serious tone as his gaze rose from the boots to the seller. The seller calmly restated the price for the item in question, earning an amused "That's all?" from the dwarven king as he handed over the payment without hesitation.

Yet, the boots did not remain in the dwarven king's hands for long, as they quickly fell into your grasp as he thrust them into your arms.

"Hurry up." The command left his thin lips in a low tone as the heat of his gaze examined your body from head to toe. "We need to find a tailor; you're practically in rags." The words became distant, accompanied by the tap of his boots against the creaking wooden dock. A creaking almost as hard as when the frame of your bed shakes as he pleasures you.

The sharp thump of the bedframe bouncing against the wall danced throughout the air, accompanied by the melody of your moans as the dwarven king continued to drive his hips into yours. Each inch of his hardness pounded into you, the squelching click of skin slapping against one another growing as loud in the air as the bedframe against the wall.

His hands would tightly grasp upon your legs, your legs spread upon his shoulders, new boots upon your feet as they bounced slightly against his back with every hard thrust of the king's hips. His gaze upon you would be lustful as a smirk spread upon his thin lips.

"That's it." He'd breathe, his breath caressing your face as he leaned down, pushing you further into the bed and pushing further into you, allowing every inch of his cock to have a chance inside of you before sliding out. "Give me every inch of you. Show me why I spoil you." He'd purr, lips hovering a breath above yours as his eyes remained locked onto yours.

His harsh gaze would urge you further into submission, to give into the hardness of his thrusts and the hardness of his cock.

A hardness that left you utterly entranced: how it stretched your inner walls perfectly, carving itself deep into your center as the rhythmic pulsations of his lust lulled you closer to the brink of release.

The dwarven king was far harder in many ways compared to your past lovers, yet it was a hardness you craved.

──────

- fili

Better. The terms of your love life had always been lackluster. The lovers of your past rarely managed to wow you, and upon the rare occasion that they managed to, it always appeared to come with terms and conditions.

It never felt as if you were the priority, yet you sat idly by for many years as you patiently awaited with the hope that a lover would make you feel special, wanted, and better than any had before. And, as if an answer to your nights of blandness, Fili came into your life.

And he was better.

The moment you had met, the golden-haired prince had whisked you off your feet. It was not through his title, nor was it through lavish gifts or promises that would be broken, no. He listened.

You had been enthusiastically speaking of a weapon you had found upon your travels, going into depths about the elaborate carvings upon it and what origins you had suspected it to be. You had been raving about this weapon for many paths now, excitedly showing whoever would listen.

"And, best of all, I haven't needed to--" The words had stalled in your mouth as you noticed how the dwarven company rolled their eyes at your rambling. A heat began to spread beneath the flesh of your face as your lips shut suddenly, and the warmth of embarrassment began to spread from the center of your chest as your gaze fell.

"Haven't needed to what?" A familiar voice had spoken, one deep and full of warmth. "I am listening. And I would like to see this magnificent weapon." The golden-haired prince spoke, a smile upon his thin lips as your gaze lifted from the ground and onto him.

The warmth within your chest had quickly eased from the uncomfortable sensation it felt moments prior, as the speed at which your heart raced now turned to various fluttering as your gemstone-colored eyes locked with his ocean-colored pair.

You had felt the harshness of his calloused palm upon the back of your hand, gently rotating your hand to fit into his before he applied a soft pressure upon it, a reassuring squeeze as the smile upon his thin lips softened.

"Go on." A phrase the golden-haired prince had used for various events. The most frequent was not in comfort, though it always made you feel better when he spoke it while he was deep inside you.

The thickness of his manhood would stretch out your inner walls, expanding them to mold perfectly around his throbbing cock, feeling the pulsation of his heartbeat, his arousal, within one of the most sensitive parts of him.

His thrusts would be deep and slow, allowing you to feel every inch of his throbbing length as his eyes scanned your face. It was as if you were a novel, and he was reading you, jotting down mental notes of what made you gasp in pleasure and what made you hiss in pain.

The bed would creak rhythmically, the headboard hitting against the wall, creating a beat that danced alongside the melody of your moans.

"That's it." His tone would be full of praise as he stroked your cheek; the sensation of his calloused thumb brushing against the flesh of your cheek would send a wave of pleasure down your body. "Let me hear how good it feels." The heat of his breath caresses your face as he leans closer to you, causing his thrusts to deepen as he does so: ensuring his cock reaches the most sensitive and pleasurable spots within your core.

That was what you adored about Fili; it wasn't only his pleasure he did this for, but your pleasure as well.

Your lips would entwine with his, your moans muffled against his thin lips as he continued the same pleasurable pace. The faint taste of ale lingered upon his lips, becoming more apparent as you parted your lips, giving his tongue access to yours.

Tongues entwined in a sloppy dance, breaths becoming uneven and deepened until you both parted. Lungs expanded vastly as the pair of you gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips as your gazes met.

"I love every sound you make, every noise that escapes your beautiful lips." Fili would breathe, his lips curved into a lopsided grin as his hips continued to jut against yours, ensuring that the familiar tingle of pleasure would roam throughout your body before he would even recognize the knot within his abdomen. That your hands would grasp at the sheets of the bed, or your nails would claw down his toned back before he would allow his grip to tighten upon the flesh of your hips.

That your lips would be stuck open as a slew of moans fell from them before he uttered a single curse of pleasure. That the sweet nectar of your being would cascade upon your skin before he allowed his seed to paint your sensitive inner walls, or allow it to coat the flesh of your abdomen.

He cared for your pleasure as much as he cared for you. He was simply better.

──────

- kili

Faster. The speed at which your love life progressed had always been slow. The lovers of your past seemed to enjoy silly games instead of commitment, and for the rare few who desired something more -- they seemed to move even slower.

It felt drawn out. It felt as if your previous lovers had held a meeting on how to waste your time, yet you held onto faith that you would find a lover who wanted to belong to you as much as you wished to belong to them.

And though your heart had yearned for a faster pace in terms of romance, you were not prepared for the fast dwarven prince.

The night air nipped at the flesh of your skin, and the soft crackling of the campfire danced alongside the sounds of the woods and your dwarven companions. Some of your companions were off eating their stew, a mix of mushrooms and other things they had managed to forage within the woods, though you'd never question where they found the meat or spices that went into it.

The low chatter of their voices nearly muffled the gentle sounds of the fire; the soft sway of its light and warmth reminded you of its presence as your gaze remained glued to the stars above. It was a brief moment of peace within the sea of chaos that had become your life, and though you had lost the comforts of home, the dwarven prince who sat beside you had found those comforts within you.

The sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, the light that shimmered within your eyes; you became his home on the road. Yet, he had been too nervous to say anything until that night.

Either overcome with confidence or immense stupidity, the dwarven prince could not help but blurt out the three words that had been swirling around his mind since the moment he laid eyes upon you.

"I love you." His voice echoed throughout the makeshift campsite, his amber gaze glued upon your face, and a sea of laughter erupted from his fellow companions. The heat of his cheeks burned as bright as the fire before him, yet he did not back down as your sparkling gaze met his. "Y/N, I love you." He repeated, his confident voice wavering as the words left his lips. A wavering you would hear in far more intimate events.

The rapid thumps of the bedframe bouncing against the wooden wall echoed throughout the not-so-silent room. The sounds of the bed were so close together in pace that a thump barely had enough time to become an audible sound before another came in its place, masking the previous one as fast as it was made.

His cock raced within you, desperately stretching out the inner walls of your core, as his face was buried within the crook of your neck. The heat of his short, quick breaths tickled the side of your neck as he inhaled your scent.

"So good." The words wavered in pleasure upon his lips, hanging upon the tip of his tongue before escaping in more of a whimper than a moan. "You feel so good." His words would become a full whine of pleasure as he held onto you.

His hands would be tightly clenching at your arms, grasping so tightly that his nails would begin to dig into your skin. A delicious twinge of pain and pleasure flooded your sensations as his cock would continue to rapidly carve itself deep inside you.

His breaths would come out as quickly as his movements, each harsh thrust a silent devotion of his love, his neediness for you. His head would remain buried in the crook of your neck, allowing his whimpers to vibrate against the exposed skin as the burn within his hips grew hotter.

His body moved like a well-oiled machine, never ceasing in action as it brought you closer and closer to the brink of release. And as fast as you were thrown overboard, drowning in the sea of pleasure, the dwarven prince dived in after you.

He was far faster than your exes, yet he always ensured you came first in all scenarios.

──────

Want to read one part at a time? Read separately on AO3

Thorin, Fili, Kili

Want to read it as a book? Read separately on Wattpad

Thorin, Fili, Kili

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

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ms-demeanor · 11 months ago

Note

fully understand and agree about reiki and prayer and herbs and the rest of that bullshit, but i'm a little confused as to how chiropractic care got lumped in with those

Chiropractors are quacks, full stop.

There is nothing that a chiropractor can do for you that a physical therapist couldn't do better or that a massage therapist wouldn't be able to assist with.

There are specific conditions that can cause joint subluxation, but unless you have one of them, your joints are probably perfectly fine where they are and if they are not that is something that would be better (and more safely) assessed by someone who is actually qualified to provide some variety of medical care (which chiropractors are not, they are licensed to provide chiropractic care, which is pseudoscience on your spine, which is a bad place to do pseudoscience). And if you do have those conditions you shouldn't let a chiropractor touch you with a ten foot pole because you are at even *more* risk of harm from spinal manipulation than the general population is.

When I was in college and didn't have health insurance and was working at a coffee shop I couldn't afford $150 out of pocket to go see a doctor, but I could afford $45 to see a chiropractor.

What the chiropractor didn't know - because she wasn't a doctor and didn't have the diagnostic tools for this kind of thing - was that I didn't have back pain because my spine was out of place, I had back pain because I had a bone tumor in my spine, and her adjustment fractured one of my lumbar vertebrae.

When I did get insurance I finally figured out what was wrong (after using a cane and dealing with excruciating back pain from my cracked spine I had to quit my job at the coffee shop because I couldn't reliable stand on shift) when I got an MRI. The pain was treated with muscle relaxants, oral steroids, and physical therapy, none of which would have broken my fucking back.

Chiropractic, even when practiced "competently" by an expert with the most modern and most rigorous scientific training available, is still more dangerous and less effective than other interventions. All of which is aside from the fact that there are a shitload of chiropractors out there who will claim to treat asthma and autism, which they can't do and are shitty for claiming to be able to do.

Top to bottom, all through its history, chiropractic is a scam that hurts more people than it helps and because of our fucked up medical care in the US specifically has been largely predatory on people who can't afford real treatment for their illnesses and injuries.

Also, if you are ever going to see a chiropractor - though i wish you wouldn't - never, ever, ever, EVER let them manipulate your neck. Chiropractic spinal manipulation of the neck can lead to severing the arteries in your neck, causing a stroke. This HAS killed people, and as long as chiropractors keep doing it, it will kill more people.

Fuck - and I cannot emphasize this enough - chiropractic.

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hayatheauthor · 23 days ago

Note

Have u done a post on anatomy of swordfight? Or like weapons in general. I have a lot of different weapons planned out: bow, different types of swords, daggers, shields, spears, etc. I can't find a single proper guide explaining how to write fight scenes for these that make sense.

The Anatomy of Writing a Sword Fight

Thank you for the ask! I really love your ideas/reqs and will be making at least 2 more blogs as a reply to this ask (that will cover bows etc). For now I've gone with swordfights.

This guide dives into the technical aspects of sword fighting—from the types of swords and injuries to the medical realities of treating these wounds.

My long-form posts are usually filled with long detailed paras but this time I wanted to focus more on the 'facts' and had a lot of things to cover so I stuck to concise pointers for each area. That being said, feel free to ask follow-up questions if needed!

Understanding the Blades

Firstly, here's a quick breakdown on the types of swords and their impact on injuries

Longswords Longswords are double-edged, straight blades often used with two hands. They cause deep slashes capable of severing muscles and tendons, and thrusts that can puncture organs or arteries. Heavy blows can also break bones.

Rapiers Rapiers are thin, pointed blades designed for thrusting. They cause precise punctures targeting vital organs or arteries. Less effective for slashing but deadly in skilled hands.

Katanas Katanas are curved, single-edged blades optimized for slicing. Their shape allows for those gory slashes that can amputate limbs or expose bones. Thrusts can also be fatal.

Sabers A saber is a curved blade with one sharp edge, typically used on horseback. These blades are designed for slashing, often causing wide, shallow wounds.

Short Swords and Daggers Smaller blades that are used for close combat can sometimes fall under the sword umbrella based on their shape and length. A Jambiya for example is categorised as a 'short sword'. These work for deep puncture wounds in tight quarters. Can sever arteries or puncture the heart or lungs.

In short, the design influences the wounds. Remember:

Straight blades are versatile, causing both slashes and thrusts.

Curved blades focus on slicing, leaving gaping wounds.

Thin blades like rapiers target precision strikes to critical areas.

Types of Sword Injuries

As mentioned above I'm trying to cut to the chase with this blog so for each injury type, I've covered what I think are the key points. These are the appearance, severity, blood loss caused by this type of wound, and pain levels. I think these four basically cover everything a writer needs to know when picking their poison.

Slash Wounds

Appearance: Long, open cuts with jagged or clean edges depending on the blade.

Severity: Superficial slashes may damage only the skin and fat layers, but deeper cuts sever muscles, tendons, and even arteries.

Blood Loss: Significant, especially if major arteries like the femoral (thigh) or brachial (arm) are cut.

Pain: Immediate burning or stinging, with sharp increases if nerves are involved.

Thrust Wounds

Appearance: Small entry wounds but potentially deep and catastrophic internal damage.

Severity: Can puncture vital organs such as the heart, lungs, liver, or intestines.

Blood Loss: Often internal, leading to hidden dangers like haemorrhaging or collapsed lungs.

Pain: Stabbing pains that radiate outward, especially if organs are pierced.

Blunt Force Injuries

Appearance: Bruising, swelling, or fractures from strikes with the flat side or hilt.

Severity: Can lead to broken bones, ruptured vessels, or concussions.

Blood Loss: Minimal unless skin is broken.

Pain: Deep aches or sharp, localized pain from fractures.

Assessing the Severity of Wounds

When assessing the severity of a wound, there are a few important things to keep in mind. To make it easier, I've put together a quick checklist to help you out.

Location: Wounds to the head, neck, or chest are often life-threatening. Injuries to limbs are less fatal but can lead to significant blood loss.

Depth: Shallow cuts are often cosmetic but painful. Deep wounds risk severing arteries, damaging organs, or causing fractures.

Angle: Oblique cuts may glance off bones or armor. Direct thrusts to unprotected areas are far more dangerous.

What Happens When Each Area is Wounded

It's kind of a given that each area of the body is different and would thus cause different reactions when pierced. While many writers stick to the 'blood dripping from the mouth, hand desperately clutching the wound' look, I think it's a good idea to consider the medicinal side of your injuries.

Are there arteries in this area? Vital organs? Muscle and tissue? Here's a quick breakdown of those questions (no I haven’t mentioned every area or organ of the body):

Limbs

Forearms and Upper Arms: Severing the brachial artery results in rapid blood loss. Cuts to tendons disable grip strength or arm movement.

Thighs: The femoral artery is a critical target. Damage here leads to exsanguination within minutes if untreated.

Calves and Feet: While less life-threatening, injuries here severely limit mobility and can cause nerve damage leading to paralysis.

Abdomen

Liver: Heavy bleeding due to its vascularity. Potentially fatal without intervention.

Stomach: Leakage of acidic contents causes severe internal infections.

Intestines: Punctures lead to sepsis from spilled waste material.

Kidneys: Severe back pain and rapid blood loss from renal artery damage.

Chest

Lungs: Punctures cause pneumothorax (collapsed lung), leading to difficulty breathing and chest pain.

Heart: Even small cuts are often fatal due to rapid blood loss and cardiac tamponade (fluid pressure around the heart).

Ribs: Fractures can puncture lungs or other organs.

Neck

Jugular Vein or Carotid Artery: Severing either leads to death in under two minutes from blood loss.

Trachea: Obstruction causes immediate respiratory distress.

Spinal Cord: Severance leads to paralysis or death.

Back

Spinal Cord: Injuries vary from numbness to total paralysis depending on the location.

Kidneys: Vulnerable to back stabs; severe bleeding and pain radiating to the abdomen.

Face/Head

Cheeks: Slashes leave disfiguring scars but are rarely fatal.

Eyes: Punctures result in blindness and intense pain.

Skull: Blunt force may cause concussions or fractures; penetrating wounds can be fatal if they reach the brain.

Treating Sword Fight Injuries

In the chaos of a sword fight, providing immediate care can mean the difference between life and death. The first priority is to stop the bleeding. For deep cuts or arterial wounds, use a clean cloth or pressure bandage to compress the injury. If the bleeding doesn’t subside, especially in limb injuries, apply a tourniquet above the wound, ensuring it’s tight enough to restrict blood flow without causing further damage.

Once bleeding is controlled, stabilize the victim. Immobilize fractures with makeshift splints, and in cases of suspected spinal injuries, avoid moving the victim unnecessarily to prevent exacerbating the damage. Finally, cleaning the wound is critical to minimize infection risks. Remove debris carefully and irrigate the wound with clean water if possible. Though battlefield medicine is rudimentary, these steps provide a fighting chance for survival.

Also, one thing people forget to go over is temperature. Keeping the victim warm is essential, as blood loss can lead to hypovolemic shock, which compromises the body’s ability to circulate oxygen.

Historical vs. Modern Treatment

The approach to sword fight injuries varies dramatically between historical and modern contexts. While I can’t completely break down the differences, here’s (what I hope) is a quick overview that will aid in your research.

Historically, treating wounds was rudimentary at best. Herbal poultices were applied to reduce inflammation, and cauterization—burning the wound to seal it—was a common but agonizing method to prevent bleeding and infection. Stitching techniques were crude, and the lack of sterilization meant infections like sepsis or gangrene were often fatal.

Fret not, modern medicine offers a more hopeful prognosis. Sterile wound care, antibiotics, and surgical interventions allow for precise repairs to severed arteries, muscles, or organs. Advanced imaging technology can assess internal injuries, while blood transfusions and IV fluids combat shock effectively.

This just underscores how important it is for writers to consider what timeline their story is set in. Sorry but your medieval prince won’t just have a full recovery after suffering a brutal gash, especially not if his only source of medicine was love interest’s xyz solution. Infections are a very real issue. In fact, most deaths during that time were due to infection. Do your research.

The Psychological Aftermath

The aftermath of surviving a sword fight extends far beyond physical wounds, leaving lasting emotional and psychological scars. Many survivors experience trauma or PTSD, manifesting as flashbacks to the battle, vivid nightmares, or an overwhelming sense of anxiety, especially in situations that trigger memories of the fight. I would absolutely love to see people incorporate this in their writing! If your modern OCs can get flashbacks and nightmares after a single gun altercation what makes you think the medieval ones won’t experience something similar?

Survivor’s guilt is another common burden, particularly if the character witnessed comrades die or was forced to make life-and-death decisions during combat. These emotional struggles can deeply shape their personality, making them more cautious, resentful, or even vengeful. Villain arc here we come!

One thing to remember; physical limitations compound the psychological toll. Permanent injuries like chronic pain, reduced mobility, or disfigurement can remind a character daily of their ordeal, influencing how they interact with others and navigate the world.

As a writer it’s important to take recovery into account. Exploring these aspects adds depth to the character’s recovery arc, making their journey more relatable and human.

Remember folks; a sword fight isn’t just a moment of action—it’s a fight as brutal and dangerous as any knife or gun altercation you can think of (if not worse).

Crafting the Fight Scene

To end this blog, here are my (and various Google articles’) two cents on what you should be focusing on/keeping in mind during a swordfight.

Writing a compelling sword fight requires balancing technical accuracy with emotional resonance. Pacing is key: alternate between rapid exchanges of blows and brief pauses to allow tension to build. These pauses provide an opportunity to describe a character’s thoughts, pain, or strategic planning.

Sensory details bring the scene to life—capture the sharp clash of steel, the metallic tang of blood in the air, the searing pain of a wound, and the slickness of a sweat-soaked grip on a sword hilt.

Focus on the characters themselves to make the scene more engaging. Highlight their emotions, such as fear, determination, or desperation, alongside the physical toll of the fight. Show how fatigue sets in, how their breathing becomes labored, and how every swing of the blade drains their strength.

Injuries should be portrayed realistically; instead of dismissing wounds as minor setbacks, use them to heighten tension. A cut to the leg might slow a character’s movements, while a stab to the shoulder could make wielding their weapon excruciating.

Balancing these elements ensures your fight scenes are not only thrilling but also grounded in a visceral reality.

Resources for Writers

Books:

"The Book of the Sword" by Richard Francis Burton

"Medieval Swordsmanship" by John Clements

Videos:

YouTube channels like "Skallagrim" and "Scholagladiatoria" for sword reviews and techniques.They’re very helpful for all sorts of weapons actually so OP I think you should consider stalking their channels you’d find a TON of info (I get most of mine from them lol).

Articles:

I don’t have any precise ones but to boost your research consider medical journals on trauma and wound care. Oh and historical accounts of duels and battles.

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frownyalfred · 3 months ago

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About your post the other day. Bruce thinking of a broken back as "annoying" because he can file away his horrific injuries as plain records of facts. Sometimes he accidentally distresses his loved ones about something he's totally minimized. He's comforted that his kids aren't used to forcing themselves to walk on broken bones, sleeping in the snow with infected stab wounds. When they're hurt, they get care. When they fall, there is a net to catch them. They've endured so much, but most of them grew up in a kinder, more supportive environment. If nothing else, the ones forced into training from birth were treated as valuable, every injury carefully tended so they'd always perform with full physical ability. They can't imagine their fingers not responding enough to form a fist, or crawling into a muddy ditch to rest through the night.

Then there is Jason. Instead of horror, Jason has understanding. He reacts to Bruce's old injuries like they two of them share an inside joke, or his gaze goes distant and he changes the subject. Fractured skull, limbs swollen with compartment syndrome, ruptured kidneys, shattered ribs. Sleeping on the streets. Bones healing misaligned, cold seeping into pins and screws. Bruce thinks of carefully putting bandaids on little hands, how those hands carefully turned the pages in his books, how in the end every bone in those hands was crushed. Ever since, when Bruce is injured, he thinks of Jason's autopsy report, his thoughts are a spiral of "This pain is what he felt. This is what he felt. This is what he—"

Outwardly Bruce looks fine. Inwardly he's spiralling about being a worthless failure who never deserved the honor of being called a parent. At this point, Bruce gets pulled out of his head by Dick desperately asking for help on a case that he he already knows how to solve, or Cass tackling him at her full velocity and using him as a pommel horse for a gymastics routine, or Jason showing the younger kids that Bruce can identify which Gotham water bodies you fell into in the last six weeks if you stick your boot under his nose.

"the only person who comes closest to understanding what Jason went through is Bruce" and "Bruce is the last person Jason wants to see most days" are two, beautifully conflicting facts. How much of Jason's distance from Bruce is a desire to not be known, to be perceived? and yet, by putting that space between them, he deprives himself of someone who understands that kind of trauma and has made it out to the other side. and I think a part of Jason knows that Bruce should've died by now, could have died, and has come so damn close with some injuries and torture that the line isn't even definitive. and yet. and yet...

#jason todd #the man u are #i get u #red hood #bruce wayne #batman #dc #asks #anon #batfamily

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hyperboleigh91 · 5 months ago

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It is actually extremely sad that Jean made himself believe the other Ravens didn't know what was happening to him. (Which he obviously did because the alternative is too cruel for him to accept and keep his sanity)

A 16 year old "sleeping around" with college-aged students and almost certainly looking distressed about it

A backliner that's "so fragile" he has broken and fractured bones all the time

The moment he goes from being able to shower to having a panic attack over doing so

Being so covered in blood it ruined the pads in his gear by soaking into them

Whatever conversation took place that resulted in Zane agreeing to stand between Jean and Grayson and then Zane knowing enough to decide to hurt Jean by leaving the door unlocked for Grayson

His attempt to take his own life

----

It does seem that Jeremy, Cat, and Laila aren't buying that, at least. So maybe Jean will get to have a moment where he fully admits he hates the Ravens for how they treated him and actually blames them for either participating or being complicit in what happened to him.

#tsc spoilers #tsc #the sunshine court #jean moreau #aftg #all for the game

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daturabouquet · 7 months ago

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Defying the Doctor's Orders. 🧪

Dottore x Fearful!Reader

[Warnings: dubious consent to examination, spanking, intimidation, violence]

As the Second Harbinger's lover, you're no longer a normal citizen. You can no longer visit regular doctors either, but what a coincidence! Your lover is a "doctor"! He'll take care of your checkups.

If only you just followed his orders...

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎ 𝐈𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 ❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

"But dottore-!" You squirm, whining as he corners you. All you did was get a fever, and he's already all over you. Every single time you pass by his lab, you dread getting a glance of his examination room. The metal bed is always bloody, and you always hear screams coming from that room. Now, you're in their position. In that same exact room, screaming the same volume.

Dottore keeps on cornering you, blocking your every exit. "I thought you said you trusted me, (name)?" He tuts, grabbing your wrist with a death grip, enough to fracture your poor bones.

"I-I trust you as an individual but not as my doctor!" You quiver more, shaking like a leaf. Dottore sighs and gently coaxes you onto the hard metal bed, keeping his voice gentle and soothing. "Darling, I will never hurt you beyond what's necessary. I'd be quite disappointed if you keep fighting me off." He softly states.

As Dottore hoists you on the metal bed, you can't help but squirm even more despite his warnings, and you accidentally kick one of his nearby vials.

Shatter!

Color drains from your face. Your movements come to a halt as the doctor shows a very obvious toothy frown.

"If you were to be any other experiment you would have been dead." Dottore hisses through his teeth, now picking up something from under the table. "I reckon you'd prefer a less Doctor-like approach. I can do that dear." Dottore said, softly stroking your skin. "Let's try a disciplinary approach. Maybe giving you a clear consequence will get you to cooperate." Your curious eyes wander and finally catch a peek of what's in his other hand; a dreaded riding crop, formerly used to examine pain receptors. Dottore wants to exhaust you, swat away all of your energy for the sake of the examination. It's just a doctor's visit, he's doing this for your own good! Yet you fight him as if he's going to mutilate you. That's no way to treat your caretaker now, is it?

"D-dottore! Please- I-I'm scared-" You cry out, hopelessly begging to be set free. Kicking and crying won't help you, you know deep down just how cold-hearted your lover is. You know how he treats his "patients", and you worry deeply if he'll treat you the same.

Dottore sighs and kisses you on the lips, gently soothing your nerves. Before you can utter another word, he keeps on kissing you, gently laying you down. You can't fight back a kiss, especially one so gentle and warm. Dottore keeps pushing you down until your back finally meets the cold metal. You whimper, you can feel a panic attack coming up, but whatever thought that was in your mind went blank as your lover positioned you sideways facing him. Your face still close to his, but your bottom was exposed to the air, no longer pressed against the metal bed.

"D-dottore, w-wh-"

Your pitiful protest was cut off by a harsh swat to your poor rear.

"A-AH!" You yelp, only to be answered with another swat. You never thought your lover would ever do something like this.

Swat, Swat, Swat!

Your screams are muffled by his lips, which he clashed onto yours. Just when you thought you were safe and loved by the doctor, you get a little taste of what it's like to be truly under his control.

"Mmmph! Mm.. Mm!!"

Swat, Swat, Swat!

The sound of the rubber cracking down on your sensitive skin fills the room, along with your little sobs and sniffles.

"Why are you doing this-" You sob out, but the doctor only replies with a quick clasp to your mouth. What a great position to be in.

He shuts you up, while beating your ass senselessly with a riding crop.

"Hmm!-Mmm!!"

Your cries fall on his deaf ears.

"This is for your own good, dear."

Swat!

"I've had it with your defiance."

Swat!

"You deserve this treatment."

Swat!

Ten, twenty, thirty? Swats cracked down on you, tinting your skin a deep red. Your blue haired lover finally lets you go, with tears and drool running off your face. You can barely move, let alone struggle against him. Once he's happy with your state, he gently puts you into restraints, to prevent any more of your pathetic attempts. He snaps on a pair of clean medical gloves, before holding a flashlight.

His other hand forces your mouth to open up. With the sudden light hindering your sight, you know that you've lost, and you can only submit from this point on.

"Say Ahh..."

------

#dottore headcanons #dottore brainrot #dottore x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #dottore genshin impact #dottore #fatui harbingers #spicy like deez nuts

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meownotgood · 2 years ago

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cpr. / dan heng x gn!reader, fluff, soft kisses, dan heng teaches you how to do "cpr" (poorly)

I want to teach you the basics of first aid. Come to my room as soon as possible.

That's it.

There's no, Would you like to come to my room? or, Learning first aid would be helpful for you, what do you think? Dan Heng is just as to-the-point as the first time you met him, and even though you try to pretend like it gets on your nerves, huffing your complaints to March and texting back an annoyed K, you still find yourself shuffling over to his quiet room on the Astral Express the moment your phone pinged you with the notification.

You're silently thinking to yourself as you make your way there, rounding the hallway as slow as you can to give yourself a few extra seconds, or possibly to make Dan Heng wait for longer — or maybe it's both.

Yet despite how much you ponder, even though you've known him for long enough to start understanding him, you can't decide if he's so direct because he's just that way with everyone, or if it's because he knows you'll always listen.

Upon entering, his cabin looks the same as it always does: books strewn about and left open on important pages, glowing circuitry lining every wall, his bed unmade, pillow askew, blanket balled up in the corner. When you step in and slide the door closed behind you, he doesn't bother to look up from where he's sat cross-legged and hunched over a data screen, he simply pats the floor next to him with his palm and cocks his head to signal you to come sit down.

"You almost got yourself killed on our trip to Belobog. Multiple times." Dan Heng explains, tone stern and resolute, not exactly rude, just matter-of-fact. Your knees knock his own once you've settled next to him. Your heart stutters a bit at the proximity, but he doesn't seem to mind. While he speaks, his eyes never stop scanning the screen.

"We'll reach the Luofu soon, and I won't be coming with you. My biggest concern is you not knowing what to do in an emergency." He turns towards you finally, sharp and serious gaze meeting yours. "I'm already not excited about this, but I'd feel better if you let me run you through a few exercises."

"I'll be alright. Don't worry about me. I know enough. I think."

Dan Heng stares back with narrowed eyes and with his arms crossed over his chest, unconvinced.

In a moment, he pushes himself to his feet, walking over to the desk and rooting around its contents, all while completely disregarding your last statement: "I'll lend you a first aid kit. If we start now, I should have enough time to teach you everything you need to know, mostly everything. I'm serious about this, so please try and pay attention. For your own sake."

Right. That's fine. You can handle it. You're a pretty fast learner, you think. And thankfully, mostly everything consists of things you already sort of knew or techniques that are relatively simple to comprehend.

Dan Heng walks you through the steps to bandage a wound — He holds your arm gently as he's showing you the proper way to wrap it, pulling on the bandage tightly and then softly, idly rubbing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

How to treat a fractured bone, what to do if someone is choking — Dan Heng wraps his arms around you and shows you where to place your hands, resting yours on top of his in the center of your stomach. His chest presses flat against your back, his hair tickles the side of your face and you almost miss when he says into your ear, "Shove forcibly right here, and keep going until… Are you listening?"

"Yes," You answer. "Er, sort of." You rectify.

Dan Heng expels a heavy sigh. Right then, you half expect him to give up and kick you out, but instead he holds your shoulder and shifts back, he mutters a barely audible C'mere and guides you to rest your head squarely in his lap, leaving you laying down and peering up at him.

He admits honestly, "I'm worried about you. If something were to happen to you there, I mean I trust everyone to look after you, but…"

It isn't like him to trail off. "But what?"

"But you need to know how to take care of yourself."

Shifting his hand underneath you, he props your head up further with his arm, the metal of his bracer firm on the back of your head. "For now, I'll teach you how to perform CPR. Pay attention to what I do. After this, we'll be done."

The room's silence seems to stretch on. The endless hum from the systems and analyzers echoes in your ears, your heart pounds in them even louder. Dan Heng brushes his nimble fingers over your chest, right between your ribs, as his eyes scan your face they start to take on a certain sort of softness.

He composes himself with a sharp breath out, a deep breath in. And then, he's leaning close, too close, gripping your chin deft between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards. You watch his eyes flutter shut and you follow his lead.

Your heart continues to thump so hard you're certain he can feel it: once, twice. Warm lips brush your own, clearly hesitant, and it's nothing like the straightforwardness you've always been used to getting out of him. No, Dan Heng seems nervous this time, and as he connects with you in an open-mouthed kiss, his hands getting sweaty, warmth pooling in his chest, he can't help his mind from becoming a total mess.

He isn't thinking all of the sudden, isn't considering any of the consequences, like he's always tried to do. Your lips are on his, he didn't lock the door; he nearly forgets to breathe a steady puff of air into your mouth once the tingling feeling and the heat rising to his cheeks commands all of his attention.

Almost as quickly as he leaned in, he's forcing himself to tear away from you, his eyes opening slowly, his expression completely unreadable.

"It's self-explanatory." He reasons, sure of himself, but you swear his voice sounds quieter than it did before. Any louder and he'd trip over his own words, "You got it, or do you need another demonstration?"

"Show me one more time. Just in case."

If anything were to happen to you, if you died and he wasn't there…

And once more, Dan Heng is closing the distance, this time briefly reaching up to brush a few strands of stray hair away from his eyes before tilting his head and pulling you closer.

He's gained a bit more confidence, and he kisses you hard, stops for a moment, caresses your jaw with his fingers and meshes his lips with yours to kiss you again — and you can't help yourself from reaching up, settling your arms around his shoulders to tug him in as close as you can get him. And he lets you.

You'll be fine, won't you? He isn't sure, and he hates that he isn't sure.

He'll have to ask you to promise him.

You freeze, and he pulls away, only by a couple of centimeters, enough to breathe but to still feel his breath fan over your skin when he exhales. He's blushing fully now, you sigh his name against his mouth and it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard; he shivers all the way from his neck to the base of his spine.

His head goes fuzzy, his heart throbs and twists like a burning star — God, he doesn't know what to say. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, but the more he stares down at you, the longer you hold his gaze and let the seconds revolve around and around, he starts to forget it all.

Dan Heng swallows the thickness forming in his throat, and he's about to force himself to say something when you suddenly start speaking instead.

"You're doing it wrong, you know."

"Huh?"

Your head tilts. "Come on, there's no way you're that horrible, right? If you wanted to kiss me before I went, you could have just said so."

And Dan Heng, ever-so direct, always so composed, feels his lips start to quiver and somehow can't manage a response to that.

#dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #dan heng fluff

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emmyspov · 2 years ago

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Idk if your requests are open rn, but if they're not I apologize. I was wondering how you think The Fellowship would react to their youngest member (someone a little younger than Pippin, like around 20) being incredibly prone to injury but also having a really high pain tolerance. Like they keep falling off things and getting hurt but are just like "Don't fuss over me" and the others are just like hyperventilating because they're already like a little sibling to them so there is PANIC in this fellowship tonight

Source: I fell off a swingset and either severely bruised or fractured me hip :)

The Fellowship x clumsy!reader headcanons

author's note: first of all, i am so sorry it took me this long to answer this - life was just.. a lot and i was trying to stay afloat. then, i hope you are doing okay! and haven't hurt yourself more since you sent this in - please be careful & treat yourself gently 🩷 last but not least: i hope i was able to do you justice & you enjoy it :)

warnings: reader falling/stumbling/hitting their head/getting hurt in general, mention of blood, mention of food, please let me know if i forgot something!

word count: 1.6k

edit is mine, pics are from pinterest :)

Frodo: I think Frodo is actually the one who would understand you the best. I mean, he is the ring-bearer and everyone is always so worried about him and the quest and it’s understandable. I mean, he has a lot of responsibility. But sometimes, he feels a bit suffocated by the way everyone is fussing over him, wanting to keep him warm and well fed and safe. So, whenever something happens to you, he would give you some space first – waiting if you ask for help on your own. If you don’t, he’d make sure that you are not hurt. And then, he’d trust your answer. After all, you know your body and its limits best. If you say you are okay, he will simply focus on the quest again. If you do need help however, he will make sure to inform the others so you can get the help you need. Maybe this is something you could actually bond over. Because you’d treat him the same way – not like a baby, but like a friend.

Gandalf: Since you are the youngest of the group, he would feel very responsible for you. Not as much as Aragorn, but very close behind. Whenever you fall or hurt yourself, the wizard notices immediately. In an instant, he is by your side, helps you up and looks over you from head to toe, making sure you don’t have some big gashing wound or bones sticking out. Maybe I am wrong, but I do think, he would scold you a bit. “You really have to watch out”, “Eyes on the ground”, “Be careful”. But, all of these things mean that he cares. He just wants you to be safe and for you to come back in one piece. On the other hand, he is always quite surprised whenever you tell him that you aren’t really hurt. “Maybe it looks like I would be, but I can move my leg just fine – see?” And he would see. It’d take a few moments for you to convince him, but once you have, you will carry on with your journey as if nothing had happened. What you don’t notice is Gandalf eyeing you every once in a while, just to be really sure.

Merry: This hobbit is kind of used to chaos. I mean- he spends most of his time with Pippin. So, if you stumble and roll down some hill, the first thing he would do is laugh. I am talking a full on bending over, belly laugh. Until Gimli or Gandalf or, even worse, Aragorn slightly smack his shoulder before they are running after you, checking you for any injuries. Only then would he realize how dangerous this whole thing was and he’d follow everyone down to you. What he was not expecting however was to find you laughing. “Did I look cool?” Merry would stare at you for a moment before grinning at you, nodding. “Super cool. But are you hurt? Your arm has some scratches from all these twigs laying around.” You were able to stand up immediately, ignoring everyone’s wide eyes, and brushing off the dirt. “Nothing some water and Elrond’s ointment can’t fix.” You two got closer after this.

Pippin: First of all, he is SUPER glad that you, too, came along, because this way he is not the youngest of the group. Sure, he still has to deal with Gandalf’s annoyance at him, but he also has someone by his side who is also full of energy and curious and excited for the quest (at least in the beginning). But because he is the second youngest, he does feel a bit responsible for and protective over you. Like the older one of a pair of twins would. And since you hurt yourself a lot, he is constantly on his toes. Maybe you’d hold hands sometimes? Just so he can realize as early as possible that you’re gonna fall so he can at least try to buffer it. More often than not, it would also end in you two falling ON TOP of one another and that always ends in a fit of giggles. If you fall on your own though and it looked bad, Pippin would immediately call over Aragorn or Gandalf to help you, even when you say you’re fine because you’re his friend and he wants you to be okay.

Sam: Now we all know Sam is a mother hen through and through, even if he denies it. He is, understandably, mostly focused on Frodo and his well-being, but if something happens to you, he is one of the first to help, despite your protests. You stumbled? He will grab your hand and pull you up. Your hands got dirty and bloody from a fall? He will immediately offer his water bottle and help you clean off any dirt. And most importantly: at the end of the day or during breaks, he will carry over some food he cooked (and always an extra portion, too) even though you keep telling him that you can get it yourself and your ankle does not hurt, even if it might have looked like that earlier. “I just want to be sure, my friend. I don’t like the thought of you being in pain.” After a while, you start to accept his treatment.

Gimli: He is not up for discussions. You accidentally ran against a tree? Slipped while getting some water with him? He will not care for what you have to say about the amount of pain you are. You are the youngest of the group and have to be protected. So even if you vehemently try to make him understand that, yes, you might be bleeding a bit or yes, your wrist might be a little bit swollen, he would ignore you and instead call over the others to let them have a look at you. If they decided you were well enough to carry on, he would either carry your backpack (“Stop trying to take this away from me, I will take care of your belongings for now”) or sometimes even you - “Stop fussing around”, “No, you are not too heavy” and “I will carry you around until you are better.” Often times he knows that you would be well enough to walk by yourself, but it makes him feel needed when he can take care of you in some way.

Legolas: I feel like this can go two ways. Sometimes, when he is running in front of everyone else, he is kind of the last to notice whenever you hurt yourself. If he is with the group however, he will almost always be by your side or at least close to keep an eye on you. He likes to listen to you and Pippin talk since it fuels his inner child. One time, he was walking in front of you with Aragorn when you hit your head on a twig, resulting in a small cut on your forehead. You let out a yelp, more out of shock than anything else, but immediately the man and the elf turned around and ran to your aid. You tried to explain that you were fine, but Legolas seeing himself as a wood elf, was already on his way to find the closest stream to fetch some water to clean your wound. Aragorn was telling the others to take a short break when he returned and sat you down. “Stay still, my friend. Even if your cut doesn’t hurt now, it will later if we don’t treat it properly.” He only grinned when you mumbled something in return.

Boromir: Listen, Boromir has a little brother and a shitty father, he knows how to take care of someone while also respecting their boundaries and wishes. No matter how you hurt yourself, the first thing he will do is communicate clearly. Softly grabbing your shoulders, he makes you look at him and asks if you’re hurt or in any pain. If you answer no, he will ask if you need anything or anyone and if you also refuse that, he will make sure that everyone carries on with the journey. However, he will keep an eye on you, more or less secretly. And he will assist you with all the small things during the quest: rolling out your bedroll and placing it close to his own and the halflings’, sneaking you an extra blanket, making you sit close to the fire or refilling your water bottle without you having to ask. He has a soft spot for people younger than him and will never not watch out for you. Can you tell I have a soft spot for him?

Aragorn: Last but definitely not least, the Dúnedain. He is literally one of the best people to have around as a clumsy person - he has the experience from Elrond and the elves in general and knows his way around nature and the wild due to him being a ranger, so he knows how to take care of a wound. Heck, he had to do it to himself countless of times already. However, seeing you getting hurt so often makes his heart skip a beat every time and not in the good way. He worries about you, even if you claim to be fine. No matter how often you fall, stumble, bump against something or hurt yourself in any other way, he is by your side to take care of you. And he will care for you, no matter what you say. When you scraped your knees one time, Aragorn made you sit down on a log and cleaned your wounds before applying some of the ointment Elrond had given them before their departure. Only when he was sure that he had done everything he could, he would allow you to get back up and carry on. You would not get worse on his watch during this journey.

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leviathanleva · 1 month ago

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Cujo

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Supersoldier!FemReader

Description: A monster in human skin, a weapon disguised as a person, no thoughts, no emotion, as per design. He despises you and everything you stand for. He’s tried to kick you out of his squad and failed, he’s made it his mission to break you no matter the cost.

It comes as a surprise when he asks you to lie and say you love him.

[4.5k words]

[Angst, Blood and Injury, Graphic Depiction of Injury]

Chapter 4 "Brandy Bonbons"

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The abocath in your arm is pumping a translucent fluid in your veins, the medics refused to tell him what it was because he had no clearance. They also refused to put you in a cast in case you woke up and decided to fix your broken bones and displaced limbs yourself.

No matter how much Simon had insisted and yelled, they’d still refused, because apparently someone above him was pulling strings and had them all on a leash. Of course there was a big fish involved, your life was on the line after all and even through your hypothetically final moments they still refused to leave you in peace.

So he was stuck just helplessly lounging next to your bed in the cramped room they’d set you up in, nursing his bruised ribs and glass cuts while you lay there, silent and scarily motionless.

It’s been a week already and he hasn’t moved an inch despite John’s insistence that he at least get some proper sleep. He’d been glued to you since they’d extracted you from the remains of that car, all bent joints and speckles of blood. He’d been right next to you, rushing in with the doctors who tried to wheel you away but couldn’t get him to budge no matter how much they’d plead and tried to apply force. He refused to leave, not after what you’d done for him.

Your life for his.

You’d abandoned your primary mission because of a mistake he’d done, thrown your well-being to the side just to preserve the rotten heart he nurtured. You’d jumped from the roof of a twenty-story building for him, no protection, no plan, no fear, just for him, because it at least gave you a small chance at saving him. You’d selflessly thrown him to safety, thinking of him before yourself as always, and had taken the full fall all by yourself.

He should have been there with you, you should have just perished together and been freed of the limitations of your lives.

Now you were bed-bound, your body was shattered, you couldn’t breathe without a special apparatus they’d wheeled in to try and preserve you. You were blue and black all over, pummeled to a pulp. Simon wanted to touch you, caress your cheek tenderly and whisper in your ear that it’ll all be okay, that he won’t leave until you’re better, but he was scared that even your skull was fractured.

He was scared to breathe in your direction.

Even though you were their best soldier, they still treated you like a dog, didn’t even add any pain suppressants to whatever concoction they were feeding your bloodstream. Whether it was because they didn’t know exactly how to help you or because they knew you’d eventually rise again and couldn’t be bothered was uncertain.

But what about the pain you endured? Did nobody care?

He cared…

All of this because of him. He couldn’t stand the thought.

No matter the lack of expression on your face in the presence of any injury, he knew you still hurt. He’d do anything in his power to make it better, would take you away if he could, somewhere far away where the clutches of your creators couldn’t reach you, somewhere where you could be free to do whatever you wanted.

And if you still wanted him around even after he’d set you free, he’d happily oblige.

But he couldn’t. He had no power here, he was as useless as they came.

All Simon could do was keep you company and renew the cluster of orchids placed on the nightstand by the bed. You’d said they smelled the best, he hadn’t forgotten.

It was a gut-wrenching existence, but one he was willing to soldier for you. He was ready to do anything for you. Just like you were for him. The only difference was that his devotion came from the heart while yours was embedded into you during training and was strictly professional.

But then again, you’d gone against everything you stood for a week ago, just for him. You’d blatantly disobeyed orders in favor of his life. This gave him hope that maybe somewhere deep down, there was still a small flicker of humanity left in you.

It gave him hope that there was still a chance for you… and for him.

He’d never realized just how human he was before he’d met you. He’d thought himself a stone-cold military weapon. Then you’d come along and everything he’d believed in had been wiped off the board.

The more anomalous you were the more human he became so he could bring you back to the world you’d left behind with your augmentations.

He sighs and shifts uncomfortably in the foldable chair that’s too small to hold his large frame properly.

The sun is finally rising, he sees it peeking beyond the window – lazy and unbothered. Another day of sitting around waiting is ahead of him.

Simon rubs the sleep from his eyes and stretches the stiffness out of his joints before standing, and even though you can’t hear him, he still mumbles that he’ll be right back.

He’s at the door, holding onto the frame absentmindedly because he has to duck to walk through it.

One last longing glance in your direction before he heads off to grab a cup of coffee and sober up. The staff probably have it prepared already, it’s become a ritual, every day at sunrise he was at the coffee machine waiting his turn for a cup full of a bitter, scalding dose.

But then your eyes shift beneath your lids and he’s frozen in place for half a second before he’s at your bedside. His hands are looming over you, desperate to glide to your shoulders and shake you awake, but he doesn’t dare. Too much is whirring in his head that he wants to say, but he settles for something simple.

“Hound?”

The first signs of awakening begin. You groan, throat most likely parched, then shift slightly, and your breath hitches and he can’t fathom how much discomfort you’re experiencing at that moment.

You barely manage to roll your head on the pillow to face him and when you see it’s him the haze in your eyes starts to dissipate.

“Lieutenant?” The word leaves you as a weak rasp and he reaches for the water bottle sitting on top of your nightstand.

The distinct deaf sound of your bones popping back in their correct order makes him sick, he sees your bent wrist snap back into place, your legs move under the thin white blanket, creaking softly until all damage is repaired completely. It’s amazing as it is cursed to see something so unnatural – regeneration polished to perfection. You roll your neck, cracking it thoroughly before taking the needle out of your vein and the oxygen mask off your face. Supposedly, the black eye, bruises, and cuts were superficial injuries you’d deal with later.

They’d never set up a heart monitor for you because why would they? The odds of you dying were unfathomably low.

“Easy now, luv.” He coos and leans forward, wrapping an arm around your upper back to help you sit up when you begin to fidget restlessly. He has the lid of the water bottle pressed to your lips next and you’re chugging it down so quickly he’s worried it won’t be enough to sate you. “Want more? I can – ”

“ – They’ll move me.” You say between hungry breaths, interrupt him sharply, and look up at him as your cheek comes to rest against his shoulder.

His jaw tightens under the mask and the hand that’s gently kneading your back halts.

“What?” It’s stupid to ask, he already knows the reason, but a part of him refuses to believe it. The same part that dotes over you and doesn’t want to let you go. So he asks anyway in the hopes that the words about to come out of your mouth are different from his expectations.

“They’ll move me from your Squad. I didn’t manage to secure the target. Failure is not an option for me.” You deliver the devastating information as if you’re reading numbers off a chart.

“They won’t. Won’t let ‘em.” He twists the now empty plastic bottle and tosses it at the bin with visible malice.

He feels the invisible shrug that rolls off your shoulders. There isn’t a spec of anxiety on your face, you’re at peace with the outcome, having accepted your fate already.

And he’s thrust right back to the start where you don’t care who leads you as long as they do their job right. His absence wouldn’t matter in the slightest to you. It forces the breath out of his lungs, how uncaring you are, how you can just brush him off after risking your life for him.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“The fuck do you mean it doesn’t ma’er.” Ghost bristles up at your lack of retaliation. The arm that’s been keeping you up retracts and crosses with its twin in front of his chest. “Course it fuckin’ ma’ers.”

“You’re alive.” You say as if that fact would make it all better, that it was a fair trade to lose your position due to his well-being. “I’ll take my consequences.”

He leaves your side, paces back and forth next to your bed and you, the ever-watchful dog, follow him unblinking as he contemplates silently.

The heating system buzzes softly, accompanying his thoughts with pleasant white noise which he doesn’t succumb to. It’s not enough to quell his anger.

His heart bleeds from your words, it shows in his slouched shoulders and jittery steps.

You can’t just say that his life is worth yours, your job, everything. You can’t do this to him and then expect him not to drown on thoughts of you before he goes to sleep every night.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Cadet?” He growls finally, voice like gravel as he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

“Please…please say you did it because you wanted to…”

But you don’t. Because of course, you don’t. I can never be that easy.

“I was told to protect my comrades in combat. That’s what I did.” You answer matter-of-factly, cool and collected even after nearly losing your life. It was irksome, he’d hoped that after such a close call with death, something would have changed in you, but he was as usual wrong.

“Ye? And what about your other orders?” He barks back viciously, pushing desperately for something, anything that would steer away from your typical answers. “Unless the target is within direct eyesight.”

“If you’re worried about being punished, don’t.” You try to sooth him in your own heartless way, but your direction as to his malady couldn’t be more wrong. “They’ll do nothing to you.”

It’s not his hide he’s worried about, but yours. He could care less about what your stuck-up superiors had in store for him. They could try anything, but he was an old dog in this industry and he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Tha’s not…” He scoffs, shakes his head in disbelief and clenches his fists to maintain his boiling outburst. “I can’t bloody stand you sometimes.”

Why was it so hard for you to admit that you’d done something based on emotion? Why were you so ashamed of harboring a fondness for him?

“Your feelings toward me mean nothing.” It’s your turn to berate him now and you spare no expense, malevolently beating down on him and reminding him how little he truly mattered to you. Trying to shatter that ignorant cocoon he had encased himself in because you were bored of being his scapegoat. “I need a guide, whether you or someone else it makes no difference to me. I need a leader, not man who cannot separate work from personal interest and misunderstands indifference for acceptance to his advances” He’s staring you down, trying to seal your lips with a searing glare, but it’s ineffective and you spit out one last batch of venom before going quiet. “You've failed me”

Fuck the coffee, he needed a smoke.

He pats his pocket to check if his pack is still there before ripping his eyes off you and turning for the door.

“Where are you going?”

Simon doesn’t answer, just briefly stops before disappearing behind the door. It shuts with a bang behind him, he takes a deep breath of hospital air as soon as it does, lets his lids flutter for a second to compose himself. He gets a few questionable glances, apparently, your argument hadn’t gone unheard, but he didn’t mind. Nobody would approach him, they had no right sticking their noses in his business as much as he didn’t in theirs.

He trudges through the hallway, passing by various medical staff bringing in patients or rushing to deliver tubs of medication. The coat of white paint over everything overwhelms his eyes, makes them sting and dampen and he squints to blink back the moisture. The world feels like it’s speeding around him, passing away while he’s stuck in one place.

A group of suits step by him on the way out, all of them spotless in their attire, suitcases in hand, hair combed to perfection, and slicked back to free their unfriendly faces. They stick out like a sore thumb on the base, even Ghost’s superiors couldn’t match their confident stride – all business. His gaze hardens at the sight of them and he looks back once they’ve walked past him.

They enter the room he’d just left, your room. His pulse speeds up at the inclination and he has half a mind to turn back and come to you for aid because he suspects who the men are.

Your bosses, maybe your makers even. People that didn’t belong on his base and had no business talking to his Cadet without his supervision.

But who was he to intervene when you so desperately wanted to be rid of him?

He sighs and listens to his own boots squeak against the spotless floor as they carry him forward instead of backward. Shadows rush past him, faceless entities he cares little for, a blurred cacophony of voices, some calm, some throwing out rushed orders. The fluorescent lights above his head bade his splotchy shadow, his only companion in this sickening place.

Simon fucking hates hospitals, always has.

The chill of the morning welcomes him when he finally pushes through the entrance doors and comes face to face with the sunrise.

He shoulders the wall and pulls out his cigarettes before tugging down his mask enough to free his mouth and securing one between his lips.

He lights it, takes a long drag and puffs out a breath.

“Fucking ‘ell, Hound…”

He felt like an idiot for having hung around your bed for a week worrying over your condition, thinking that once you woke up you’d cling to him for help, that your leap of faith had meaning behind it besides orders.

But the way you’d spoken had crushed those dreams completely and now he was left questioning everything.

Maybe he was harassing you. Pushing you to your limits and trying to drag you into something you truly didn’t want. Somewhere between wanting to prove that you’re still human, he’d lost himself. His mission was no longer to find out if you still had a heart, but that that heart beat for him as much as his did for you. He’s not sure when his obsession with you evolved into infatuation, when his orders for you to smile became orders to kiss him.

It was unnerving to think back on his actions if your words rang true and you felt nothing but loyalty to him as your Lieutenant. He was abusing his power over you, he was a fucking menace…

Another drag of his cigarette, a longer one to calm the thundering thoughts that are beating down on him for being just another disgusting man taking advantage of you.

He digs the heel of his shoe in the dirt, kicks out a pebble and stares down at it absentmindedly, he’s not really there, he’s busy giving himself a mental whooping for his actions.

The realization sinks in slowly, like a disease it takes over his every fiber until he’s nothing but self-loathing.

How had you even managed to stand him for so long without an outburst?

Because that’s how you were taught, take everything being thrown at you without a care. Nothing matters but your missions and performance.

He sees Johnny and Kyle pass by in the distance, they notice him and give him a nod, the good lads, too soft of heart to try and pry him out of the infirmary unlike their Captain. He nods back and continues smoking, decides then that maybe he’ll get his coffee from the cafeteria and have breakfast with his Squad. Quit sulking and praying for your reciprocation and finally leave you in peace. You were fine, after all, it had taken you a whole of five minutes to recover after you’d awoken.

You didn’t need him, you never had. If anything, he was a hindrance to you, all of them were, but you ignored that fact and acted as if most missions didn’t fail because of their incompetence compared to yours.

Yeah…

He’d had enough of chasing fairy tales, it was time to come back to the real world.

Ghost feels the wall behind him vibrate with a sudden thud and pushes off it suddenly. His first thought is an earthquake, but the ground beneath him wasn’t shifting or shaking, it was just the wall. The medical bay had shuddered.

It dawns on him and he’s rushing back inside in an instant, his cigarette discarded on the dirt and forgotten. He speedwalks through the hallway, past the shaken-up staff, his large strides take him directly to your door where he’s prepared to barge in. But he sees the damage done through the small round glass and stops dead in his tracks.

A spider web of cracks covers one of the walls, the side of your fist at the center. And your superiors don’t seem to be completely unphased. They stand opposite of your bed in a cluster, a few feet away, briefcases to their chests, papers scattered on the floor. His jaw clenches at the sight of them – contracts for other organizations, they’d given you ample choice now that you’d proven your usefulness.

“Fucking bastards…”

There’s nothing on your face to indicate what had transpired while he was away.

Though your actions speak loud enough to make his hands shake.

You’d refused whatever they’d said. You’d rebelled.

You’d chosen him.

And it wasn’t like these sorts of people to just accept an uprise, but maybe coming from you it was too much to handle at present. Maybe they hadn’t been prepared for the minuscule chance that you were slowly starting to develop a mind of your own. He was almost proud if not for the bubbling malice at the sight of them.

A handful of muffled words are exchanged and you feign a lunge off the bed to which Ghost sees one visibly shudder. Before long they’re out the door, disappearing as mysteriously as they’d appeared. He moves to the side not to bump into them, wants to take a shower after being within such close proximity to them.

You’re pulling your clothes on when he enters, having discarded the lanky hospital robe you’d been adorned with while unconscious. The uniform hasn’t looked worse on you yet, everything hangs, you’ve melted in the week you’ve been asleep. He took a mental note to drag you to the cafeteria after you were done gathering your things.

Your visage is calm, but your eyes are razor-sharp when you lift them to greet him.

“What the bloody hell ‘appened?”

“Classified.” You shoot back almost automatically and straighten up once you’ve tied your boots in place. “I won’t be getting moved though.”

You stand to stretch, roll your wrists and then your ankles and it’s unbelievable that you’re ready for another mission already, but you are. Aside from the lost weight, you were as good as new.

Sometimes he grew jealous of your recovery time and resilience. Here he was with bruised ribs he’d have to take care of for weeks while you’d been near your last breath a few days ago and now you were talking around with nothing ailing you at all.

“So why the long face then?” Ghost watches you shuffle through your discarded duffle bag, pulling out an old rations bar before sinking your teeth into it like a famished mutt.

You don’t answer. Instead, you wolf down the rest of your snack and sling the bag over your shoulder before trying to walk past him. Casual and unbothered, typical for you, but something lingered beneath the surface, he could smell it and he wasn’t about to lose his chance.

He steps in front of you and crosses his arms, puffing out his chest to reestablish his post above yours.

“You’re in my way.”

When he doesn’t move, you sigh and try to squeeze past him but he purposefully takes up the entirety of the doorframe, trapping you in the room with him.

Damn him and his broad frame.

“Cadet.” He begins evenly and cocks his head to the side in mock confusion and it makes you nearly lash out at him for it. “Wha’s wrong?”

After everything he had the audacity to ask you what was wrong as if he didn’t already know. The countless secretive conversations he kept in store in his mind for as long as the memories would stay, to the forced kisses to the lingering glances you knew he wanted returned.

You try to escape, avoid this conversation altogether, because once you started there would be no stopping you and a tiny part of you that you didn’t acknowledge didn’t want to hurt his feelings. You refused to cause him pain be it physical or emotional, you’d rather cut your own tongue off before ever going against your precious Lieutenant.

Because that’s what good dogs did…

But he was a stubborn man, even in the face of pain he wouldn’t stand down.

If only you could understand why he pushed your buttons so fervently…

If only he could understand that this was not the way to your heart because there was no way…

You try again, one last attempt at sparing you both from the hefty conversation to come, but he’s persistent in his search for the truth and you finally snap.

“You’re what’s wrong, LT.” you hiss sharply, breaking the silence filled by the soft buzz of the heating system. You shake off the thoughts screaming in your ears to spare him, be gentle with him because he was gentle with you always. But you can’t anymore. Because all you want is to love him the same way he loves you but you just fucking can’t. “You keep poking and probing me trying to get something out of me that isn’t there!” Your voice falters, the frustration dissolves as quickly as it had erupted and now there is nothing but melancholy. He thought he was dreaming, but no, your eyes truly were wet with restrained tears. “What do you want from me?”

This…

Him…

He was the first and only reason for you to regret your augmentations. Because he just had to come into your calm life and turn everything upside down with his gentle, calloused hands and soothing words. Because he had to take you on a date and bother you constantly with meaningless talks, asking for your opinion, and caring for you. He had to go refill your tray with food when you couldn’t be bothered, he had to push you behind him on missions and be your shield even though that was literally your job.

He had to keep adding fresh orchids to your med bay nightstand that had lingered in your nostrils for the whole duration of your stay. All of this because you’d simply said they smelled nice once.

He was so kind, he was your angel, your reason to work as hard as you did to succeed in every mission and solidify your spot in his team. This way you could protect him, take bullets for him so he could keep being by your side. This was your way of showing that you weren’t indifferent to him, but he just had to push for something you could not give.

And as much as you wanted to give him whatever he wanted you couldn’t because what the hell did it mean to love him?

“Love me.” He says softly, whispers it out, and lets it hang in the already unbearable air that’s choking both of you mercilessly. “I want you t’ love me.”

“I do love you!” You exclaim, desperate to prove that his love wasn’t the only love that existed and even if you couldn’t reciprocate, you could do everything else to salve over the wounds your rejection caused him.

“Not like a dog.” He laughs a bitter laugh that makes your knees weak with pain and your face burn in irritation. “Like a woman.” He swallows thickly and finally lifts his chocolate brown eyes to meet with your crystal white ones. “A wife.”

You bite into your bottom lip so hard you feel the metallic twinge of blood on your tongue, having sucked it inside your mouth instead of letting out the alien sob that was trying to push its way up your throat.

“I can’t…” You whimper out, regretful, mourning what it could have been if you were both just two normal people. “You know I can’t, Simon. I want to… I just can’t.”

But the bliss of civilian life was unreachable, neither of you could escape the jaws of military life, not while you were both still breathing.

You wish so desperately for a new start, another life, a second life where you could just be happy together, where you had boring jobs, and shared meals in the cozy home you’d managed to save up for and purchase together. You wanted to have a family together, but even that had been taken away from you.

You couldn’t have kids.

Not anymore…

Not after the augmentations had burned your organs to a crisp.

Maybe someday you’d be happy…

But not in this life, this one was already spoilt for the both of you and all you could do was push forward until blissful death found you one day and then you would pray that the next chance you got, you’d find Ghost again no matter how long it took you and you’d finally have your happily ever after.

He stares at you so sincerely, there’s so much vulnerability there you have the urge to collapse into his arms and stay there forever sobbing out your woes.

“Then lie to me.” He says and you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your ears to block out the rest.

<<< Chapter 3

Chapter 5 >>>

Masterlist

#x reader #ghost cod #cod fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod mw2

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rosenyras · 2 years ago

Text

The Night of Feud and Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon ( Strong ) Female Reader

Summary: After Aemond stirs up the Dragon’s Dinner with his taunts, you go and search for him to give him a piece of your mind. However, the night ends very differently than you had planned.

Warnings: Nsfw, typical Targaryen inc*st, language, slight violence, slight choking, Aemond is rough, overstimulation

Notes: I used a Valyrian translator so apologies if it’s not correct!

To be truthful, you were just about done with every one of your family members.

Your brothers - more so Lucerys - despite being your bestest of friends had never irked you more so than tonight. You had wanted so badly for this dinner to go smoothly, especially after the heartfelt speeches both Alicent and your mother spoke towards the other. But the men in the family clearly had other plans.

By the time you had seen Lucerys’ teasing smirk towards Aemond, your foot kicking into his leg to abruptly stop him came too late and the long haired blonde had already embarked on his disguised digs towards Rhaenyra’s children. His part towards you, however, was slightly different - if not a bit basic - even though the obvious reference to Harwin Strong applied to you as well.

“To my beautiful niece, Y/N, I hope the days ahead of you treat you with kindness. And to my nephews …” And the night fell in sure swiftness after the rest of his words were alight in the air.

When the boys began their scuffle, you had originally wanted to intervene more so to get Aegon’s hands off your little brother. Though he was a nuisance, you were quite protective of him. However, a hand on your arm and a warning look belonging to your great uncle, Daemon, refrained you from doing so.

After all of you were dismissed to your separate bed chambers, only an hour had passed before you decided to leave. You did not blame Aemond for the retaliation in his own right, but the constant digs that he threw you and your brothers about being bastards over the last couple of years had rooted itself in your gut and would not ease unless you confronted him about it.

Aemond and your brothers war of words were one thing, to be entirely truthful you did not forget how Aemond was often tormented as a child, but most of that was derived from Aegon, and he did not show that same aggression towards his brother. And to you - you did not understand it.

You and Aemond were so very close as children, being outsiders in your own right - you, a girl amongst brothers and him, a dragonless child that was often picked on. You defended him from Aegon, and your brothers knew when to quiet so not to face your wrath. You also allowed Aemond to be close to your dragon, Rhyxia, so he could at least satisfy his yearning for a dragon.

In turn, he taught you the way of a sword - in secret of course. You were not allowed to join public practice due to the sole reason of your gender, so he would use whatever he learned in lessons to teach you how to defend yourself. The two of you had an undisclosed agreement of sorts, yet you had never been happier than when you were together.

And then, the distance grew when your mother announced your family would inhabit Dragonstone. Once the year passed and you and Aemond were reunited once more by way of Laena Velaryon’s funeral, it was as if no time had passed at all. Until your brothers and cousins engaged in a fight that took his eye.

You were not there during the attack, but you knew when you heard of the word he had chose to spit in the face of Luke and Jace - and by extension, you - your childhood bonding would be forever fractured. And as he stood with his mother and you yours, you never imagined yourself alone with Aemond again. Until now.

As you shut your door, you were instantly met with your assigned guard. He was a lovely young man, but as your eyes lay on him irritation grew within your bones. “Princess Y/N, where are you headed at such a late hour?”

Biting your lip, you deigned him a response that would indeed be unsatisfactory. “Ser Rolland, I just wish to go for a stroll alone, if you’ll excuse me…”

As you made to take a step, he placed a hand in front of you. “Your mother instructed I stay with you, I’m sorry, my lady.”

You loved your mother dearly, but right now you had to refrain from rolling your eyes at her overprotectiveness.

“Well, we best get a move on then, Ser Rolland.”

As you strolled the hallways, the sound of moving armour dawned each of your steps. It soon became clear to you in your want to keep the secrecy on where you were headed would be of no use, and besides, you couldn’t exactly remember where Aemond’s quarters were now, especially if his rooms had changed.

Turning to your guard, you placed a small smile upon your lips. “If you may, Ser, could you please escort me to Prince Aemond’s chambers?”

A single blink was all you received in terms of facial expression as your guard responded. “Of course, my lady.”

As he took charge, you followed Ser Rolland for quite a distance until he stopped outside a door that held a guard posted outside. So Aemond had changed his rooms. Interesting.

As you approached the door, you decided a knock would be more pleasant than simply barging in on your uncle, no matter how much you wished to do so. If he were to be indecent and you stumbled upon him with no clothes … you shook your head to get rid of those thoughts as your face warmed with embarrassment.

A faint call of ‘Enter’ was your only preparation before you opened and stepped inside Aemond’s room.

You noticed him immediately, sitting in front of a fireplace, his back towards you. You could only see the slightest hint of his face, his eyepatch calling to you as if serving you of a memory you would much rather forget.

“How may I help you, niece?”

His voice spoke louder than the crackling embers dancing in front of him. You clasped your hands behind your back, deigning your voice to remain as steady as possible. “How come you know it is me, uncle?”

Aemond’s head turned towards you in the slightest move that he might not have even moved at all. “Only you knock in such a pattern, Y/N. I have not forgotten.”

You couldn’t help but scoff slightly. “Yet it seems you have forgotten what I once was to you. Are you often in the company of remembering the knock patterns of bastards?”

Silence fell, the tension so heavy that you could easily slice it. And just as suddenly, Aemond stood, as if he couldn’t help but remind you that he towered over you even from afar. As he spoke, he crept closer and closer towards you - as if a magnetic pull was driving the two of you closer.

“You know those insults irk your brothers more so than you, it is why I speak them. Did you not say as a child you had no care for who your father was and by extension that word had no effect over you?”

Well. Damn.

To be truthful you did not expect him to remember such a throwaway comment and in such detail, perhaps you should know better than to underestimate Aemond Targaryen.

“You are right, but perhaps my expectations that you would have forgotten about this childhood melodrama were foolish-”

Not a second passed after those words left your mouth that Aemond had grabbed hold of your waist and pushed you up against the closest wall. Your back thudded with the impact, more so shock from not expecting such a move.

It was a low blow, of course it was, but you had not forgotten that Aemond had not even looked at you the night his eye was taken, as if acknowledging your presence was beneath him from that point forward.

Aemond placed a hand next to your head, caging you in with both his body and his glare. “Your brother took my eye and I swear, I will take revenge for that. You should be content that I did not do more tonight.”

Your eyes briefly flicked down to his lips but you forced yourself to keep eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to flinch away. Instead of replying in English, you flicked your tongue to Valyrian. “Ao would ōdrikagon nyke, Aemond?” You would hurt me, Aemond?

Aemond slightly tilted his head downwards before raising his eyes towards yours. “Daor ao, aōha brothers.” Not you, your brothers.

“Naejot ōdrikagon ñuha brothers iksis naejot ōdrikagon nyke.” To hurt my brothers is to hurt me.

Aemond immediately drew himself closer, his breath mingling with yours as he lifted his right hand up to your throat, to do what, you did not know.

All you replied with was a small whisper. “Kostilus, Aemond.” Please, Aemond.

And that seemed to break him.

Closing the short distance between your lips, Aemond crashed his mouth upon yours, not caring about the smashing of teeth - almost like he was desiring the slight pain. His left hand remain caged against your head while his right enclosed around your throat with the slightest pressure as if it was in every inch of his desire to control you.

A slight whimper escaped you, the heat of anger and wanting building up inside you as you tried your best to convey that within the kiss. Once your mouth departed with that slight noise, Aemond didn’t miss a chance before slipping his tongue inside your mouth, your tongues not so much as dancing but instead his just completely dominating yours.

You lifted your hand against his cheek, the rough leather on the straps of his eyes patch rubbing against your skin. And as suddenly as you had placed it there, Aemond used the hand that was against your head to grab both of yours, lifting your arms up and holding them against the wall.

The sudden impact caused you to gasp, moving your hips subconsciously forward, instantly feeling the effect you were having on Aemond with his hardness stretching tight against his pants. In return, Aemond let the slightest of sighs slip between his lips as he moved his mouth towards your neck, tugging on your earlobe and using his tongue to run its way up and down your skin.

“I’ve wanted you since we were young, Y/N. My heart has always belonged to you.” His right hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek. “Ziry va moriot kessa.” It always will.

“Aemond, I-” before you had a chance to finish your sentence, Aemond took ahold of your arms and dragged you towards his bed, placing you on it before making his way on top of you so the two of you were eye to eye.

“I need to hear you say it, Y/N, that you want this.”

“I do,” you breathed, your words no more than whispers. “I want you, Aemond.”

Giving you one final look, Aemond began moving his way down your body until he was face to face with your clothed lower half. Your dress for the night had been one that was easy to slip on and so you had no other expectations as Aemond quickly slipped it off and with it your undergarments. As you lay completely naked, your nipples hardening with the fresh air, Aemond’s eyes rove over every inch of your body, as if you were a meal he wished to take his time with.

As he lifted his hands towards your thighs, separating them to get a good view of your cunt, slight whines escaped your mouth with the need to be touched. Aemond’s fingers circled around your inner thighs, drawing closer and closer with such a teasing touch.

“Seven hells, Aemond, please just-”

Your whine was soon cut off with his lips upon yours and with it, his fingers finally found your cunt. Considering how wet you were, it took you by no surprise as he easily found his way to your clit, circling it with such ease that you nearly exploded right then and there. His mouth managed to silence most of your moans, but they soon were unleashed as Aemond moved to one of your nipples and began licking and softly biting at it.

It was soon after that he slipped a finger inside your entrance, moving with such efficiency that an added second wasn’t far behind. He soon moved to your other nipple, continuing the same movements. It was after he fitted a third finger inside did he speak.

“Jaelan naejot rȳbagon skorkydoso olvie ao jorrāelagon nyke, isse Valyrīha.” I want to hear how much you need me, in Valyrian.

You whined in defiance slightly, but you were too far gone to refuse altogether.

“Ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie nyke desire ao, Aemond. Emā va moriot known ziry. Just, please-” You know how much I desire you, Aemond. You’ve always known.

Suddenly, Aemond removed his fingers from you, making you annoyed with displeasure. His raised his hands to his lips, tasting you while remaining eye contact. Having enough of being the only presence in the room without clothes, you quickly tore at his leathers to get rid of them. You just wanted to be close to him.

Once he was rid of his clothes, he hooked your leg around his body, lowering you on the bed as he hovered over you, the two of you simply staring at each other was enough to make you content in the moment. As you lifted your hand to his face, you spoke in a hushed tone. “Take me, Aemond. Make me yours.”

And that he did. Aemond placed a singular kiss on your lips as he directed his cock towards your entrance, pushing in as he rested his forehead on yours. His hand that wasn’t fisted in the sheets beside your head made its way to your clit, circling it to relieve some of the pain.

Your breaths were getting louder by the minute, slowly turning into moans as Aemond moved back and forwards, easing into you more with each thrust. As you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, pulling him even more closer to you - if that was possible - you breathed out, “Aemond… please.”

Taking that as a sign to go faster, he began moving with more urgency with every thrust. It was as if he was conveying how much passion he had for you with how direct he was with snapping his hips against yours. As the seconds pass and your moans became louder and louder, both of your release on the edge, you couldn’t help but slip out, “I love you.”

Aemond’s head was buried in the crook of your neck, his hitched breaths and slight sighs abruptly stopped, but his hips sure didn’t. Aemond began thrusting with sudden urgency, the bed creaking against the wall. The hand that was gripping your thigh began pressing harder, something that was surely going to leave bruises the next morning.

Your release crept up without warning, exploding with such urgency that you couldn’t help but yelp. Aemond, however, didn’t let up on his pace. At first you thought he was helping you ride out your orgasm, but then it became clear he had no intention of stopping. “Aemond-“

“Did you mean it?” His hips slowed to a steady pace as he raised his head to look you in the eye, his only sign of pleasure was his hitched breaths. You instantly knew what he meant and you didn’t even try to deny it during the midst of such pleasure.

“Yes, fuck, yes I meant it.” Your nails began raking down his back as you couldn’t help but chase after another orgasm. Aemond didn’t waste a second before fastening his pace, wanting you to reach the height of your pleasure before he came.

“Fuck, Aemond!” You would feel sorry for every pair of ears in close proximity to you, but right now the only focus was your second orgasm rippling through every part of your body. You soon felt Aemond cum inside you, his only hint of outward pleasure was a low grunt escaping his lips.

Still inside you, Aemond once again placed his forehead upon yours, placing his lips on yours with such contrasted gentleness to the pace of his hips moments before. He made sure to look you in the eyes before speaking.

“It is true for me too, I love you with every inch of my being, Y/N.”

#hotd imagine #hotd x you #hotd x fem!reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x targaryen reader #aemond x targaryen!reader #aemond x velaryon!reader

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writerbri-archive · 2 years ago

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parting writing advice before this blog becomes inactive from someone who takes pictures of broken bones for a living and who has worked in an ER

a fracture of the bone is the exact same thing as a break, it’s just a more medical term the same way that sutures are the exact same thing as stitches and edema is the same thing as swelling, so an open fracture that breaks through the skin is the same thing as a closed hairline fracture you can barely see on an X-ray is the same thing as a stress fracture that is only really detectable with a physical exam, they’re only classified in more specific ways and they are treated based on severity

most superficial wounds aren’t going to be stitched up after 12-24 hours because they’ve been open long enough that closing them at that point would be asking for infection

an X-ray is a little bit of radiation, a CT is quite a bit more radiation, and an MRI is a magnet with no radiation whatsoever

no matter what grey’s anatomy or any other medical show might make you believe, doctors rarely do any actual imaging (taking X-rays, CTs, etc) and most of them would have no idea how

Concussions are not diagnosed with imaging. There is not a single X-ray or CT or anything else that can tell a doctor that their patient has a concussion. A concussion is diagnosed with an exam. Patients will usually have a headache and they will be dizzy, nauseous, light/sound sensitive, and sometimes they will have memory or vision problems. They will occasionally have something called nystagmus in their eyes. CTs are taken to rule out more serious conditions such as a fractured skull or bleeding/clotting in the brain.

O2 saturation is a vital that tells you how much oxygen is in your blood. Anything above 95% is okay. Anything from 90-94% is going to make a medical professional take a second look. Anything from 80-90% is low grade hypoxia and you’re getting a chest X-ray and possibly put on oxygen. You might be going to the hospital. Anything below 80% is most likely a hospital admission whether you like it or not because you’re about to get a whole shit ton of labs and a CT of your lungs at the very least if the X-ray hasn’t show a punctured lung or pneumonia to explain what’s up. I hope you find nasal cannulas comfortable. Doctors would be concerned about a blood clot, lung cancer, and other super concerning pathologies.

Kidney stones hurt like a bitch and can cripple most people to the point where they cannot walk. Imagine a foot long straw trying to pass a rock that is 2-3x it’s diameter.

Children regrow bones like lizards grow their tails. Kids can be healed from a fracture in 2-4 weeks that would take an adult 6-8 weeks to heal.

The femur is an incredible difficult bone to break. It’s usually a very high impact injury (car wreck, long distance fall, skiing accident, etc).

This is just advice but do not do not DO NOT ride in the passenger seat of a car with your legs propped up on the dash if you value keeping your leg bones intact where they are supposed to be. Just don’t do it, please. But if you want to write a particularly gruesome car wreck, that’s a good way to do it!

Animal bites are almost always preemptively treated with antibiotics.

I might add more if I can think of it but I’ll answer any questions if people have them

#writing #medical accuracies #writing advice #writing help #medical field #writing reference

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suguru-getos · 8 months ago

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//fractures// geto suguru x f!reader // chapter 3

links 🔗: part one // part two

story summary: being a monkey is the norm except when you're captured by geto sama because he needs money from your parents. however, you may just have to suffer a little extra because of the forced thinking about the right and wrongs... you're putting him through. the affection you’re forcing him through…

chapter summary: after getting a fever from the injury, geto calls shoko to treat you — however, he ends up being conflicted and bruising your psyche again with his words & actions. you, (sorta?) fight back this time though.

warnings: signs of abu$e, heavy degradation, mean mean mean MEAN geto, reader also gets mean by the end of it. fluff if you squint-,-

a/n: i'm just writing off this chapter for my funsies :3 but please it is such a 'dead dove do not eat' story so i'd suggest people PLEASE read it after heeding through the warnings ;) also, not beta’d 🤺✨

"its 100 degrees." manami sighs, taking the thermometer out of your mouth. a soft pout on your lips, "then do something to get rid of it, where is the anti-fever medication?" suguru raised a brow. after having your hand carved, it was obvious you would get a high fever. it was too much toll on your body. ever so evident anyway. "and some painkillers." you added, frankly you were still sweating in pain, it hurt. everywhere hurts. "the doctor will be here soon." suguru huffs, looking at manami dismissively, he can't really show that his heart is breaking apart for a good for nothing monkey after all. manami leaves with an eye roll. she felt conflicted too, geto's feelings were enabling everyone to think a little about their actions.

soon, shoko was here to heal you. she glanced at your form, you were beaten and bruised. eyes mingling with suguru, "she is a non-sorcerer." she commented, and raised a brow. "geto, I am surprised she is alive here" she hums, no expression on her face whatsoever. suguru doesn't respond, and neither do you. it did not help at all that she was amazed at something like that. after a second or two, you hummed, "cus he wouldn't get the money from my parents."

suguru's eyes widen, it- is it? is it the money that's making him act this way? no, money is never above his moral compass. the whole reason you're so tattered is because money doesn't matter. his resolve is just being tested, that's all. "shoko, don't heal her." suguru's jaw twitches, he doesn't want to do this but seems like he has to. "I want her worthless self to remember who she is even after she leaves, I want that shit to scar." he crosses his arms, looking at you with predominant hatred.

your heart sinks, you hadn't even thought about how it would feel… to see the grotesque mark looking in your hand for the rest of your life. monster, geto suguru is a monster.

tears well up in your eyes, shaking your head no rapidly. "please don't- please s' hurting too much-" you begged, hands reflexively gripping at his gojo-gesa. "no- no- g-geto? geto- sama" you answered again, while suguru notices how your body shivers in pain and drenched in sweat. "did I say you could touch me? you piece of shit?" a snarl echoed through the room, geto's hand raised to hit you but stopping, you were cowering, all small and flinching. just like his girls. hot and cold, his behavior has been hot and cold. one moment he was hugging you to calm you down, now, he's ordering shoko to let you suffer in pain. "if you touch me again, you filthy monkey, I will make sure to break every bone in your body and leave you handicapped in the basement to rot and starve." his jaw clenched, while you couldn't do anything but listen. you don't want to die anyway. "I'm sorry." you mumbled, heartbroken. six more days with him. your broken voice shoves him back into his senses, he is trying so hard to ensure that it doesn't happen - that he doesn't feel like killing himself, so he is uttering shit, whatever helps to balm his own brimming rebellion against his own thoughts. your eyes are still kind, its just the way they are, you still can't look at him with anything except a silent plea for mercy.

"I think I should heal her, else she would die of an infection." she holds your wrist, a drastic change in your body immediately felt when she began to heal you. your internal injuries, popped lip, the carving, the cumulative blinding pain of it all fading away into nothing. geto only stands still, watching the way your creased brows turn softer, how your pained face turns neutral.

"thank you." you mumbled at shoko, and she smiles. "I don't know why he's got you kidnapped like some third grade movie's villain, but we have another certain someone who can save you perhaps." suguru raises a brow at shoko, the audacity was impressive. she leans back, watching the glimmer of hope in your face. her hand lands onto geto's shoulder, squeezing it firmly. "she's a human, didn't you say picking on the weak was not a good thing geto?" suguru rolls his eyes, gently pushing her away. "leave." he commands instantly, while shoko smiles at you, "see you, ne? y/n san!"

you were curious, who was this other person that she could send to help? then again, you're not sure if anyone could help you against this monster in front of you. suguru sighs, the way he speaks to you torments him more than it could ever torment you. which in-turn, makes him try harder to reach a state where he DOES NOT, feel this pathetic after abusing you. so? he mumbles again. "I wonder if you worked like a stripper mm?" you blinked, unsure where this was coming from. no, you weren't a stripper. you waited for him to continue whatever he meant to say. "I mean you certainly look the part, perky boobs, are they fake or real?" your face pales, so far geto has harmed you but nothing was remotely sexual, this turn makes you want to throw up. the expression of sheer panic on your face isn't gone unnoticed by him. he wants to stop, he wants to make sure he never says something like this ever again. then again, he just needs to 'kill' this kind, and caring part of him anyway. "maybe next time I can carve your insides up with the knife, leave you bleeding if you ever try to touch me again. since you want me so bad anyway?" you shake your head no, like a forced obedient pup in training. he was horrifying, absolutely fucking disgusting and every part of you wished he was dead.

to suguru… though, these were all just words. maybe now you will stop looking at him with hidden expectations that he would be kinder, nicer. more tolerable… you don't deserve that, monkeys don't deserve that!

"you will get your lunch and dinner here, don't move or I will chain you with your hands tied up and let my girls practise boxing on your pathetic rag of a body." christ, he was fucking insane. your mouth couldn't help it-

"you utter so much shit just because you're capable of killing me? maybe you're a frustrated eunuch, clearly looks from that disgusting, vomit inducing face. I hope you're killed like the dog that you are, impaled on something sharp since that's all you could ever think of, bastard." you widened your eyes after these words left your mouth. dead. you are to be dead.

suguru is stunned. "this is what happens when pets like you aren't trained well. as soon as the pain is gone, your mouth is on again hmm?" he's amused, you clearly can't do anything to him. still… your words… hurt. why do they fucking hurt? are you important to him? certainly not-

"mutts sleep on the floor." he yanks you outside the bed, throwing you on the marble floor and leaving.

six more days… and he will have you gone.

six more days, and you will never see the fucking bastard.

#geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto x y/n #jjk x y/n #fractures geto #jujutsu kaisen drabble #jjk drabble #jjk x you #geto x you #shoko x reader #suguru geto #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #geto angst #geto suguru angst

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dustyrkives · 1 year ago

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Satisfied with your care // A. Wong.

I know I might misinterpret things because I'm new to the fandom, but please, hear me out on this one🫣

Notes: Physician reader, hierarchy of doctors, !njuries, age-gap between the reader and Ada (7 years), female reader, Ada finding you amusing and interesting, size difference (my jaw dropped when I found out she's 5'7), Ada might develop an obsession for you and your notes but I think it's cute - *train passes by*. That's pretty much it, I think.

Not proofread, sorry :D

And feedback is appreciated <3

Thinking about Ada visiting the organization's medcenter to tend to her serious injuries before she either takes her leave or prepares for another mission.

That's when she set her eyes on you, the young mentee of her organization's physician.

At first, she finds you insignificant, always by your mentor's beck and call, standing behind the scenes while the doctor tends to her wounds before dismissing her with painkillers and reminders for her to change her bandages to avoid irritation and infection until several months later after returning from another mission, and it just so happens that the attending physician is busy with the other injured agents - which leaves her with you: a Fellow.

Ada kept a sharp eye on you while you tend to her injuries. Nothing serious - just a few cuts, bruises and some broken bones, ribs and fractures. But Ada's too tired to tend them herself so she leaves that job to you. You examine her injuries, surprised that she doesn't show any signs of pain in her cold, sharp countenance - countless missions must've hardened her edges, you thought.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" Her cutting tone snaps you out of your train of thought.

Embarrassed, a practiced smile plays on your lips, "My apologies," and began tending to her wounds.

The first thing Ada notices is the way you touched her: soft, gentle. Then again, so is any other physician while they treat their patients. But what makes yours...different?

Perhaps she was touch-starved.

You graciously ignored Ada's gaze as you tend to her injuries, something she finds interesting considering her gaze was enough to make some...targets fumble, but not you. But oh, she thought wrong. Ada saw the way your well-manicured hands twitch at her proximity - you were tending to the gash on the side of her waist. You were close enough to smell her scent: woody, warm spicy, vanilla...cherries.

The older woman's lips curl to a ghost of a smirk as she witnessed how you momentarily froze before tending to her wound before calmly leaning away from her and smiling rather nervously at the Asian woman before giving Ada her doctor's note and sending her off. Ada just stood there, outside the door as she looks at your note. Nothing significant, just some painkillers, antibiotics, reminders to change her bandages and, oh? A medical certificate for her injuries and a note acknowledging the state of her injuries. Contrary to your mentor, he would just tend to her wounds and give her some aspirin and send her off. Her lips curl upward. Interesting, Ada would thought before keeping your note.

Ada then discovers that she finds you amusing. Which also leads her to another discovery about herself: that she's a creature of habit, and that visiting the medcenter will be the first thing she does after returning from her missions. And so she did, every after her missions, you'd notice that she would prefer you over the attending physician. You find it flattering because it means one thing: she trusts you with her wounds. The Asian woman would always come back with her wounds slightly detrimental than the last - but no worries, you're capable of treating them. While you find it concerning, Ada sees it as a valid reason to feel the pads of your fingers against her skin.

And she loves it.

She loves the way you'd wipe the blood on her face and body away like a demented blush, or the way your fingers would delicately examine her bruises to the point that she finds herself fantasizing how your lips would feel all over her scars and bruises instead of your fingers. Every touch from you would figuratively bring the older woman to her knees; Ada has to admit, you have that kind of power over her.

You on the other hand, well, developed a certain liking for the older woman. Calm, verbally well-articulated and devastatingly gorgeous - you have no doubt that anyone who comes across her would be intrigued. But as a professional and an aspiring attendee, you had to bury that attraction, and you thought it was simple.

You were wrong, utterly wrong.

With every visit from Ada, there would be hushed greetings, piercing stares, low praises from her - it makes your spine tingle with glee and bliss.

"You'd get wrinkles if you do that." The older woman mused as she sits on the edge of the examining table. You shoot her a pointed look - you were comfortable to show your displeasure when it comes to her serious injuries. "How could I not when you look like 'that'?" You counter as you gesture at her state. The latter raises a brow as she looks down at herself. Her shirt is soaked with blood, she swore she had just changed before coming to see you but the blood from her poorly bandaged shoulder wound seeped into the fabric of the material, not to mention her small cuts and bruises. She quirked a brow, "You do realize that you treated far more serious injuries from me?"

"Yes, but-" You stop yourself before inhaling slowly to better articulate your words. "It's concerning-"

"Are you worried?"

A pause, "Of course," You sigh quietly before approaching her. "Are you able to remove your shirt?"

The latter raise a brow and you flushed. "I need to examine the wound-"

"Easy, pretty girl," She grins and the red on your cheeks darkened. "And I can't," She palms the bloody bandage. "I think I need new bandages and maybe some muscle tape."

You can't help but return her grin, "Stitches, probably."

The latter nods as you prepare the surgical scissors and begin cutting through her shirt. While doing so, Ada watches you intently as the cloth loosens, and cuts in half, revealing her scarred, lithe torso. You inhale slowly before gently removing the soaked cloth and tending to her injury.

"At this point, I think you allow yourself to get hurt." You stammered as you patched her up in a quick yet efficient fashion, "Well, I mean - I'm not saying it to undermine your capabilities as an asset or anything - what I'm saying is-" Ada merely chuckles when you're done. "I mean," The former slowly stands up. "Ada," You warned, "You shouldn't-" But the Asian doesn't listen as she gracefully steps toward you, you did the opposite.

"You really shouldn't," Your words die in your throat as her figure towers over you. Damn, was Ada this tall before? How come you didn't notice?

Reality sets in when your back presses against the counter. "Ada, your injuries-" Your pleas fall on deaf ears as the older woman traps you against the counter - she didn't even cage you in yet before she takes another step closer to you - uncomfortably close that she can take your fleeting scent: comforting, with the right amount of sweet, and mingling notes of Jasmine.

Ada's eyes dilated.

"For the last time, Ada," The former was brought back to her senses when your hand pressed against the base of her neck, your fingers are pressed against the muscle between her neck, and right collarbone. "Sit down, please - do you feel anything at all?"

The older woman slowly blinks before finally, trapping you with her arms blocking your sides as she looks down at you through her lashes.

You feel her pulse quicken beneath her cool, pale skin.

"I do now," Ada whispers.

#ada wong x reader #resident evil x reader #ada wong #rambling because my brain is full of Ada #This one's kind of messy but bear with me pls #resident evil #re4 remake #re4 ada

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shadow0214 · 6 months ago

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Belonging

Pt. 2: Eagle Clan

Noa x human OC

Three days had passed since your fall, you were still unconscious. Noa had taken you to his mother, at first, she wasn’t sure if they should help you or not, but Soona convinced her to help you. Soona had a soft spot for injured creatures, and you were no different.

Noa had stayed with you almost every day, he felt responsible somehow for letting you fall; he was so close to you and still he didn’t even try to jump down to help you. Soona and Anaya would go for a few hours to check mostly on Noa. They would tell him that it was not his fault, it was actually the other way around, he had helped you, he should feel good about doing that kindness to an Echo.

‘If she doesn’t wake up, she might be more injured than we thought’ Soona signed to Noa while he placed some water over your dry lips.

His mother had told him that if you were not hydrated you would die, and all their help would’ve been for nothing.

All those three days, you had been dreaming that you were back at the bunker telling Kiara about your adventures, how amazing the sunset looked from the top of the buildings, how the buildings themselves were alive somehow with all the plants and trees growing around and on them. That night you started to feel pain all over your body, your back felt like it was being stabbed in multiple places at once. The pain started waking you up, after your back, your lungs started to feel like they were burning when you took deep breaths, and that’s when you started gaining consciousness again.

You grimaced while waking up, you were trying to sit up but with no success, something felt off. After a few minutes you started to feel the pain coursing through your body, going straight to your left arm. Your eyes opened slowly, there was a warm breeze hitting you, eventually you were able to see the roof of the place you were at; it was made out of twigs, maybe pieces of wood and you could see the smoke rising from the ground and a red tint around the place. ‘Fire’ your first thought was ‘It’s warm, it smells like something is burning, like a campfire’.

Slowly you sat yourself up, immediately after you did that, the pain around your arm felt worse and by instinct you brought it near your chest and hold it with your right hand that was a little sore but not in pain. You could see a fire before you, then you saw your left arm wrapped in a makeshift brace; you gently touched your forearm and noticed it was broken. You honestly thought that you were going to break every single bone in your arm, but impressively it felt like just your ulna was broken. You had started learning about medicine a year ago for this same reason, if you were out and something happened you needed to know how to put bones back into place or how bad a fracture could be and how to treat it until you got back to the bunker, the difference now was that you were not going back there, not with the amount of pain you were feeling by just sitting up. You were not able to ride like this, you knew you wouldn’t last more than a few hours this way, and the bunker was about three weeks away from where you last were.

You looked around the place, eventually you noticed you were not lying on the ground but, on a floor, made of wood. You stood up clumsily, trying not to move your left arm a lot, your legs hurt but not enough to stop you, you walked a little and noticed you were not on the ground but meters above it! You barely saw what was around before you fell down and crawled on your back with your feet and your one good arm until you were back in the place you were sleeping at. You started hyperventilating, normally you wouldn’t mind the height, but the fall had awakened a new fear in your mind: fear of heights.

When you were able to calmed down a bit you felt someone watching your back, you stood up as fast as you could and saw him: the ape that had tried to help you. He was bigger than you and looked at you with a frown on his face, you remembered the names Noa and Anaya but didn’t remember which this was.

“You are better” He said softly but firmly. “You can go now”

“What?” The word slipped through your lips. ‘What did he mean by that?’ Your thoughts were racing trying to figure it out.

“You are healed…You have to go now” He repeated.

“Healed? You call this healed?” You asked with a frown. You were barely alive, how long had you been there? Had it been so long that they were tired of taking care of a sad human?

“Three days and two nights” He answered. “You have to go…Now”.

“That’s how long I’ve been here?”

“Mmm’’ he nodded.

Then another ape appeared, that was the girl, you remembered her name: Soona.

“Oh! You are awake!” She said with a smile.

‘She has to go’ The male signed.

You saw that, and understood they could communicate themselves in sign language, but you didn’t know what that meant.

“Why?” Soona asked while signing. ‘She just woke up!’ she signed worried.

You had to say something, you really could not leave, you didn’t even know if Envy was around to take you back to the bunker.

“Wait, you want me to leave now? I’m not healed! I don’t even know where I am. I barely remember what happened!”

Both apes looked back at you.

“You can stay until you are healed” Soona declared.

The male grunted in a low tone.

“Noa… she needs our help.” Soona said.

‘Noa’ you repeated in your mind.

‘Fine, but just until she is strong enough to ride a horse’ Noa signed towards Soona, and she gave him a small smile.

After that, Noa went to the table that was a little farther than your makeshift ‘bed’, he was taking things out of a bag.

“So? Can I stay?” You asked Soona and she nodded with a warm smile on her face.

“Where am I?” You kept asking

“This is Eagle Clan” Soona said taking your right arm and pulling you gently to the edge of the tower that you were on. You quickly took some steps back, breathing faster than normal.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean…” You mumbled.

“Echo is afraid of heights?” Noa’s voice vibrated through the place.

“Echo? What is that?” You asked

Soona chuckled at your question and pointed with her finger at you. You pointed back at yourself.

“Me? No, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” You corrected

“No…Echo is your people; you are an Echo.” Soona explained while laughing.

“Oh, you mean a human! Yeah, I guess I am” You said that so matter of factly that it felt weird, you didn’t feel like anything really, you just felt like you. “I am Soona, and that grumpy ape over there is Noa.” Soona said pointing at Noa who just ignored the remark.

Suddenly, you heard something hitting the ground near Noa and looked down. It was a book, not any book, your book! That bag that Noa had was part of your belongings and he was going through them looking for who knows what.

“Hey, those are my things!” You shouted angrily at him and walked towards him as fast as you could.

When you approached, Noa growled and showed his canines to push you away from his territory. Soona hooted and stood in all fours jumping up and down. But that display wasn’t enough to deter you, you just stood as tall and unfaced as you could and when Noa was done you crouched down with difficulty and picked up the book.

Soona was dumbfounded by what just had taken place before her eyes, no one in their right mind would challenge the leader of the Eagle Clan like that, but something that was weirder to her was that you stood your ground against Noa who was much bigger and stronger than you. Noa was also perplexed, how dare you not back down after the warning he had given you.

It was difficult standing up with a book in your hand because you could keep the balance with the other arm, once you were up, you were standing mere inches away from Noa. You looked up at him and saw his eyes, he was not angry anymore, just confused by the whole situation. His eyes were a beautiful greenish blue and the more he stared at you the more time you could look into those beautiful eyes, but you remembered Soona was there, and you broke eye contact with Noa and took some steps back.

Soona felt that that was her time to leave, you two had things to discuss, and she wasn’t really interested in the conversation anymore. She waved goodbye to you and jumped down the spiral that went down the tower.

Noa went back to the matter at hand.

“You understand the symbols?” He asked.

You looked at him confused, but then you thought about it for a minute. He meant the letters; those are only symbols to him.

“They are not…..These are letters.” You said while opening the book and turning it around so Noa could see.

“Symbols have meaning…” Noa said passing his fingers softly over the pages, remembering what his friend Raka had told him. Noa had other books he had found near the place where he first met Raka. When they were going back from Proximus’ captivity they had passed near that place again and he had taken a bag to take the books back to Eagle Clan.

“Yes, they do. Can you read?” You asked looking at the amusement Noa had in his eyes.

“Read?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“You read books, you read the words that are written over the pages.” You tried to explain.

Noa shook his head, he didn’t know what any of those symbols meant, but he wanted to learn. That way he could access the information that Raka had taken care of his whole life. “Show me how” Noa demanded.

“To read?” You stopped and thought about it. If you agree he might let you stay longer to heal completely and you would not have to worry about being kicked out of the place every single day, but you also had to gain something from this transaction.

“Why do you want to learn?” You pushed.

Noa was in no mood for that, he didn’t need to explain his reasoning to a simple Echo. A few minutes passes, you had started to walk around getting closer and closer to the edge to see the place a little better, and Noa was still thinking what to answer.

“Let’s make a deal: you get me to the ground, and I’ll give you time until tomorrow for you to answer. If your answer is good enough, then I’ll help you”

Noa agreed to that, and he gently guided you down the wooden spiral to the ground, he gave you your own tent. He returned your bag with all that was inside, he also had your bow and some arrows which he pricked himself with, so he let that aside.

Soona arrived later to your new place and told you that you also had 2 ribs broken and your back had a big bruise from the fall. She applied a paste made with plants to all affected areas and told you to wait at least an hour to take it off, she gave you a piece of cloth to do that. She then left you alone with some cooked fish and some fruits in a wooden bowl. After eating, you took the cloth and started taking the paste off, taking it off your back was the most difficult part because you could only use one hand to reach and every time you made a sudden move with your left arm, even small ones, would bring awful amounts of pain to the area. You saw that everyone was going to sleep, and some left the fire burning so you did the same, the night had a chilly breeze and you had nothing to cover yourself with. The first two hours were a nightmare because you couldn’t find a position that was comfortable enough to sleep without putting pressure on your arm, eventually you dosed off. A lot had happened that day, and more was yet to come in the following weeks while you healed.

@edynmeyer1

#noa x reader #soona pota #kingdom of the apes #the planet of the apes #noa x human reader #noa planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader

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