#seeing him injured makes my whump brain so happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafael-silva · 4 years ago

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guide me back (I’m lost without your light): a tarlos fic

“All available units respond to a 10-50 at the intersection of Sixth and North Lamar Boulevard. Multiple vehicle pile up.” “Dispatch, this is 363-H-20 responding. ETA three minutes.”

When Carlos and Mitchell respond to the call, the last thing Carlos expects is to find TK in the middle of the wreck. He races against time to keep TK awake and stable until fire and medical arrive, while sending out prayer after prayer that his time with TK hasn’t been cut short. That they haven’t run out of time.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + bloodstained clothes

hurt tk strand, worried carlos reyes, established relationship, whump, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, kisses, blood, injury description, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

10.1k | on ao3

*****

“All available units respond to a 10-50 at the intersection of Sixth and North Lamar Boulevard. Multiple vehicle pile up.”

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20 responding. ETA three minutes.”

The sun sits high in the sky as Carlos grips the steering wheel tightly while Mitchell releases her radio and flicks on the light bar and siren, blaring loudly as they head into the heart of downtown Austin.

It sounded serious, if all available units are being dispatched to the scene, meaning fire engines are being dispatched, too. Carlos fleetly wonders if the 126 will be called to the scene, but he knows he won’t be seeing TK since it’s the paramedic’s day off.

It’s difficult when one of them is working and the other is off; at least if they were both working, there are always chances of them meeting on calls, and if they were both off, well, those days were spent in utter happiness together, either spent in or out, it didn’t matter as long as they were spent together. They make it work, however, spending as much time together before one of them goes to work and then at night, cuddling on the couch or in bed, safe in each other’s arms after a long day.

Carlos hopes the accident isn’t as grave as he’s imagining but his gut is telling him otherwise. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he realizes there’s a big possibility he might be late for the home dinner date he and TK had planned. TK had said he had a surprise for Carlos, and was clearly super excited about it. Carlos was looking forward to it and now…

Carlos’s gut is proven right when they round the corner and he catches sight of the crash from a few blocks away. Dread sets in his stomach the closer they get to the scene, other police cruisers pulling up at the same time.

He might need to tell TK that his shift may run long. He holds back at that, though, first wanting to get a full feel of how the rest of his shift will pan out.

Carlos parks and shares a concerned look with his partner before drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. They hop out of the car and Carlos takes a quick survey of their surroundings, noticing that they had arrived at the scene before fire and medical.

Carlos starts moving towards where the accident is the worst, and well, it’s bad. Four cars seem to have harshly rear ended each other, the crushed metal an indication of how sudden and quick it had happened. He can’t really tell one car from the other, all of them mangled together in a way that tells Carlos there are definitely more than a few injuries sustained to the people who were in these cars.

He doesn’t have much time to draw any more conclusions because he’s frantically being flagged down by a man around his own age, who seems unharmed. Bystander, Carlos’s mind supplies.

Carlos jogs over as the man takes a few steps towards him and starts speaking.

“He’s stuck,” the man starts, leading Carlos to one of the cars, or what’s left of one, in the middle of the wreck. “The door on one side popped open from the force of the crash but the guy inside can’t move. And we didn’t want to move him. He’s on the opposite side of the backseat and he’s in rough shape, seems to be going in and out of consciousness.”

Carlos swallows and follows him, whoever this man is, Carlos is going to do everything he can to help him until fire and medical arrive.

“It’s good you didn’t move him, that might have caused more damage,” Carlos tells him, his legs moving quickly.

The closer he gets, the more Carlos is hit with a sense of familiarity towards the injured man. He frowns, his heart starting to race in his chest as he zeroes in on the figure slumped in the backseat.

And that side profile, Carlos can draw it with his eyes closed.

He freezes when the realization dawns on him. His legs stop moving, his feet nailed to the asphalt. It feels like his heart is about to leap out of his chest while his eyes go impossibly wide.

TK.

And no, no, no. It can’t be TK. He was just texting him less than twenty minutes ago. He’s worried his brain is playing a cruel trick on him, conjuring up this nightmare. Carlos shakes his head, earning himself a confused look from the man leading him, who has also stopped moving.

But Carlos doesn’t spare him a glance, his attention solely held by the man in the crushed car. And when said man weakly opens his eyes and they catch some light, Carlos knows beyond a doubt that this nightmare is in fact reality.

Those green eyes, even seeing them from the side and through an awkward angle, can only belong to the love of his life.

“No,” Carlos whispers as his heart plummets into his knees, his body heating up. “No, no,” he repeats and then his feet are finally moving again, and he’s running around another car, his eyes not leaving TK.

He briefly registers the man’s growing confusion but he just rushes past him, no time for explanation, the only thing mattering to him is getting to TK. Saving TK.

He only slows down when he’s right by TK’s side, with only the smashed door separating them. The window is shattered, the ground littered with broken pieces of glass that crunch underneath Carlos’s boots.

TK’s eyes have closed again, but Carlos can see his chest slowly rising and falling with each shallow breath he sucks in.

“TK?” Carlos speaks, the rest of the accident fading away. The movement around is in slow motion, sounds muted, the world narrowing to just him and TK. “TK, can you hear me?”

Carlos can’t even hear his own voice over the blood rushing in his ears, but by the way TK tilts his head an inch towards him, he heard him.

A beat. And then: “‘Los…”

Carlos lets out a breath he wasn’t fully aware he was holding, his shoulders sagging forward a little. “Hey, babe. I’m here, I’m here.”

Carlos runs his eyes over TK, and his heart breaks a little more at the bloody state the paramedic is in.

“I’m stuck,” TK wheezes. “Can’t move.”

“We’ll get you out, just hang on. Help is on the way,” Carlos replies, hoping his voice is steadier than it sounds to his own ears. He then turns his attention to the older man in the front seat. “Sir, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” the man nods. “I’m fine, nothing hurts too bad. The hit was harder from the back.”

Carlos’s fear increases at that piece of information. “You let me know if your pain changes,” he tells him before his attention is back on TK. “TK, can you tell me what hurts?”

“Head, chest…and side,” TK replies through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes as a wave of pain shocks his nerves, running through his battered body. Everything feels like it’s on fire, every breath he tries to draw in hurts, and he’s tired, he’s so tired.

But he isn’t alone anymore, Carlos is here now. TK is aware that his odds aren’t good, based on his years of work experience, but he finds himself not panicking at that thought as much anymore. Because Carlos is right here. He would even go as far as saying he feels a little calm now, but what he can’t answer is whether that is due to shock or Carlos’s presence. TK decides to believe it’s courtesy of the latter. Because shock would be very bad.

He isn’t aware his eyes have drifted shut until the officer’s voice filters through, telling him to open them and TK manages to peel his eyelids open and faces Carlos’s worried gaze.

“Stay with me,” Carlos pleads, those brown eyes that TK loves so much filled to the brim with terror. “Don’t close your eyes, look at me. Focus on me.”

TK obliges. He loves looking at Carlos, loves running his hands over his face, his cheekbones, feeling Carlos smile against his touch. TK wants to reach out, to smooth out the worry engraved on Carlos’s forehead, in the creases that sit above his eyebrows, but he can’t move a muscle. He wants to reassure Carlos that he’s okay, but not only does he momentarily lose his voice, he also doesn’t know how true his statement would be. Because he’s now suddenly very much aware of the amount of blood running down his side, sticky and hot. The side glued to the crushed door.

He groans, feeling the panic start to rise again. Being stuck was already bad enough, but being stuck while also bleeding is far worse that TK doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Hey, hey,” Carlos’s voice returns. “Focus on me, it’s okay. I know it’s scary, but I’m right here.”

“Carlos,” TK cries out, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Carlos, very carefully, reaches his arm through the busted window, and with just as much caution, cups TK’s face and wipes the stray tear with the pad of his thumb. He’s aware of everything all at once, the way his hand shook as he moved it towards TK, how clammy TK’s skin feels, the beads of sweat rolling down his own neck and back.

“I’m right here.”

TK sniffs and nods as he leans into Carlos’s touch. It’s warm, and TK gravitates towards that warmth. The warmth that has become his home.

Carlos begins cataloging TK’s injuries: a cut near his temple that looks deep enough to need stitches, possible concussion, chest pain can be a result of the seatbelt tightening when the crash happened, but he can’t assess how badly TK’s side is hurt from his current position.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that, though, because TK is speaking a few moments later.

“My side…it’s bleeding…” TK murmurs once he’s gathered his voice, his mind suppling that he needs to tell Carlos. “I think it’s bad.”

The small amount of color remaining in Carlos’s face drains at TK’s words, his heart dropping further and it feels like he’s been drenched with a bucket of ice water. His mind freezes for a second before he’s shaking himself out of it. He needs to act, and quick.

“Can you reach it and apply pressure?” Carlos asks. “Easy though, slow movements.”

TK attempts to move his arm towards the injury but quickly grimaces and drops his arm.

“No,” TK’s voice shakes, the slight movement exhausting him further. “Hurts.”

“Shit,” Carlos’s own panic starts taking hold, evident in the way his hands start to shake again. They have to slow the bleeding if TK has any chance of making it out of this nightmare.

Then Carlos remembers that the other door is practically already ripped off the car. Making up his mind, he gives TK’s hand a squeeze and rushes to the other side of the car.

“Hang on, TK, I’m coming,” Carlos says as he quickly assesses the area where the door was once attached to the car.

It looks stable enough and the car isn’t tilted to either side or unbalanced, so Carlos carefully climbs in and pauses to see if his added weight caused any shift. Once there’s no evidence of that, he moves closer to TK, their thighs side by side.

Carlos reaches around TK with his left arm, eyes glued to his middle and surely enough, TK’s t-shirt is stained with blood. The officer has to swallow against his dry throat at the sight, there’s so much blood already and TK is looking paler by the second.

Carlos’s hand finds its target, and his fingers brush against the tip of the metal lodged into TK’s side. He feels sick to his stomach as he begins to apply as much pressure as he could without causing further damage or sinking the metal deeper into TK’s flesh.

TK whines at the pain jolting through his body, waking him up a little as he squeezing his eyes shut, more tears run freely down his face.

“I know, I know,” Carlos speaks, his tone apologetic.

TK’s eyes start to droop, the momentary adrenaline already wearing off and his head falls backwards against the headrest.

“No, no, TK,” Carlos eyes go wide, his voice strained. “Keep your eyes open, stay with me.”

“Carlos…” TK whispers.

“Right beside you, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re his fiancé,” the older man’s voice reaches Carlos’s ears from the front seat.

Carlos turns to face him with a questioning look, his eyes drawing together at the statement.

“He was,” the driver pauses to breathe. “He was talking about you before the crash.”

Carlos sucks in a deep breath through his nose, nodding as his eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. “Yeah,” he turns back to look at TK. “He’s the love of my life.”

TK is still clinging to consciousness and Carlos receives a small smile from him at his declaration.

“That’s it, baby. Stay with me,” Carlos pleads once more, closing his eyes and gently resting his forehead against TK’s uninjured temple, melting into him.

He keeps a steady hold on TK’s side, and senses TK weakly gravitating towards him even more, Carlos his lifeline. TK uses all his remaining energy to reach out into the small distance and latches his hand onto Carlos’s arm, wrapping his fingers there.

“I got you, Ty, I got you.”

A few moments later, the air around them fills with the roaring of sirens, getting closer and closer.

“Hear that, TK? Help is here,” Carlos says, instilling hope with every word.

He turns his head in the direction of the incoming fire trucks and ambulances, watching as red and blue color everything around. His eyes immediately find the bold 126 painted on the truck that comes to a halt on the edge of the crash site.

“Hey!” Carlos calls out for the young man who lead him here. “Direct them this way!” He nudges his head towards the team who are disembarking from the truck.

The man nods and starts running towards the firefighters.

“Hang on, TK, hang on,” Carlos whispers.

He looks back into the open and relaxes just a fraction when he spots Judd on the man’s heels, jogging towards him.

Carlos can pinpoint the moment Judd realizes who he’s moving towards, the firefighter’s eyebrow raising a little.

“Reyes?” Judd calls out before he’s reached the car.

“Judd, it’s TK,” Carlos wastes no time in responding.

Those three words have Judd’s eyes going wide, his speed picking up and he runs the remaining distance to the car, coming to a stop on the side TK’s jammed.

“He’s stuck and bleeding badly,” Carlos continues, looking past TK and at Judd through the broken window.

“Shit,” Judd mutters and then louder, in the direction of the rig: “Tommy! Nancy!”

Judd’s eyes roam over TK’s ashen face, the younger man’s eyes barely opened.

“Hey, brother,” Judd speaks, his voice carrying its natural strength but also soft and filled with concern. “You’re gonna be alright, just hang on.”

He gets a half-nod from TK in reply.

Tommy and Nancy approach the car, each of them clutching their equipment and medical bags, ready to get to work.

“It’s TK,” Judd tells them when they’re by his side. They both pause midair as they’re lowering the bags, their eyes going equally wide as they process Judd’s words.

Carlos can see the worry flash over their faces and they share a quick look of concern before they both switch back into paramedic mode. He knows what they’re thinking, that they have to be at the top of their game. TK is family, and he can feel their fear and pain, but they need to focus so they can save TK.

They both meet Carlos’s worried eyes before getting to work.

“Hey, TK,” Tommy gets closer to the crushed door, gloves on and clicks her pen light. Her voice is calm and gentle, her motherly tone helps even Carlos relax a little.

“Cap…” TK whispers.

“Follow the light, TK.”

She shines the pen into TK’s glassy eyes, his pupils responding to the light as they should, albeit a little weaker than she’d like.

“Talk to me, Carlos,” Tommy says while her attention is solely focused on TK. “Tell me everything.”

“He said his head, chest and side hurt, his side is bleeding badly. I have pressure on it and I can feel a piece of metal stuck in there,” he swallows, feeling the blood seeping through his fingers. “The bleeding slowed down a little but he’s already lost so much blood.”

Tommy nods, accepting the c-collar from Nancy and carefully placing it around TK’s neck to stabilize him.

Judd looks up when he hears the rest of the crew approaching, and after a brief glance with Carlos, Judd moves in their direction, seeking out Owen.

“Cap,” Judd shields Owen’s view of the wrecked car.

Owen frowns, but immediately sees through Judd’s worried eyes. “What is it?”

Judd takes a deep breath. He has always been a straightforward guy, he won’t start beating around the bush now. “It’s TK, he’s in that car.”

Carlos’s heart breaks even more at the gasp he hears from Owen, followed by rapid footsteps pounding the gravel as the captain rushes over.

He’s at the car from Carlos’s side and looking past his shoulder a few moments later, Owen’s eyes blown wide as they move from his son to his soon to be son-in-law.

“Carlos.”

“His side is bleeding,” Carlos tells Owen, more tears gathering in his eyes. “He couldn’t reach it to apply pressure and I had to do something.”

Owen nods, his eyes going back to TK, who’s barely moving. “It’s gonna be okay, son. You’re gonna be okay. We’re here.”

TK slowly opens his eyes the rest of the way and looks in Owen’s direction through his blurry vision. He tries to send a wordless message to his father and fiancé of I’m okay.

Owen gives him a smile, but it’s shakier than he intended.

“Here,” Tommy’s voice grabs their attention. She hands Carlos a large piece of gauze as Nancy moves to the front to check the driver.

Carlos begins to move, and TK instantly whimpers and tries to keep his already weak hold on the other man.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, TK,” Carlos is quick to reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He maneuvers his free arm to take the piece of cotton and swiftly lifts his bloodied palm to cover TK’s wound with the gauze and returns the pressure there.

The team has gathered what was happening and crowd the car, Carlos is vaguely aware of Judd telling them they’ve got TK and they should go around the rest of the scene to help.

And then Judd is back, evaluating the situation and weighing their options.

“His breathing is getting worse,” Carlos announces with fright as TK’s hold on him starts to falter. “We need to get him out now.”

“The driver is doing okay, Cap,” Nancy chimes in. “Alert and his numbers are holding.”

Tommy nods. “We get TK out first. Carlos, is the metal connected to the door or is it separated?”

Carlos shakes his head. “Separated.”

“That’s good, makes busting the door open easier,” Judd nods.

“Judd, grab the—” Owen begins.

“Jaws, got them,” Judd finishes for Owen before running in the direction of their truck.

He returns less than a minute later, but it feels like forever for Carlos and Owen as they watch TK struggle to hold on.

“Come on, come on,” Owen whispers, his eyes not leaving his son’s battered form as Judd returns, pushes the piece of equipment into the mangled metal and starts to tear it apart.

Tommy and Nancy get the backboard ready in the meantime, ready to move as soon as it’s clear. A lot of movement erupts when the door is finally ripped open. Judd lowers the jaws to the ground, quickly reaching for the cutters he had also retrieved and cuts the seatbelt off TK. It takes Carlos’s brain a second to catch up with all the action and then his eyes land on Owen now standing on the other side behind Judd as both men make room for Tommy and Nancy.

They carefully place the tip of the backboard against the backseat cushion and Nancy and Judd carefully take hold of TK’s shoulders, moving him sideways and then guiding him to lie on the board. Carlos goes with them, the pressure he’s applying constant and he only lets go once he’s certain Nancy’s taking over, her hand firmly covering his.

He pulls back and watches as Judd and Owen carry TK over to the gurney. He wastes no time in getting out of the car himself, darting to TK’s side.

Once TK is out, Judd starts working on extracting the driver.

Tommy and Nancy work in unison, the Paramedic Captain covering TK’s face with an oxygen mask while Nancy inserts an IV in his arm and runs a line. Carlos then notices that Owen is applying pressure to TK’s side with one hand while the other runs through TK’s hair.

Carlos takes TK’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Let’s move,” Tommy instructs a moment later.

Nancy takes over holding pressure as they push the gurney towards the ambulance, Carlos and Owen trailing behind.

“Carlos?”

Carlos turns at his partner’s voice, coming from a few feet away.

Mitchell is about to ask where he’s been but her eyes go wide instead when they land on TK lying on the gurney.

“I have to—”

She’s nodding before Carlos finishes his sentence. “Go, I’ll sort it out.”

“Thank you,” Carlos gives her the best grateful smile he could muster before hopping in after TK and Tommy.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Owen says once TK is inside the rig.

Carlos nods, taking a seat on the small bench.

Nancy shuts the doors and races to the driver’s seat, climbing in and the sirens wail as they start to move.

Owen watches the ambulance drive away, the hot pit in his stomach growing with each passing second.

Carlos and Tommy don’t exchange words, each of them focusing on TK. Tommy is monitoring his vitals, giving him fluids and administering a local nerve blocker to help with the pain.

Carlos clutches TK’s free hand with both of his own, closing his eyes and willing his racing heart to slow down a beat. He works on his breathing, steading his rhythm but he can’t help the stray tear that falls when he opens his eyes and looks at TK.

Carlos’s chest is in knots, his heart in pieces, TK is too still, too pale.

It’s almost like TK feels his fiancé’s anguish and pain, and on some level, he does because he’s weakly turning in Carlos’s direction. It’s always been a thing TK and Carlos talk about—the way they sense each other and what the other needs and this moment is yet another one to prove that connection true.

“It’s okay, ‘Los,” TK manages, his voice frail and muffled even more by the oxygen mask.

Carlos sniffs, moving closer to TK so he’s in his line of sight and nods. “Yeah, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I love you,” TK whispers.

“I love you too, baby,” Carlos reciprocates. “Hold on.”

TK nods, a promise Carlos clings onto with everything he’s got. And he prays today isn’t the day he loses TK.

They’ve only just begun.

*****

It’s a short but tense ride to the hospital.

Tommy had examined TK’s chest and Carlos’s assumption that it was the seatbelt that hurt him is proven right by the massive red bruise already formed down the paramedic’s torso. Carlos had drawn in a sharp breath at seeing it, heartbroken that TK has been injured to that extent. Tommy had also told Carlos that TK may have also suffered a bruised lung from the force of the seatbelt against his chest.

A team is already awaiting their arrival, tearing the ambulance doors open as soon as it comes to a halt in front of the Emergency Room entrance. Tommy relays all the information as they push TK inside and through the hallways. They reach a point where Tommy, Carlos and Nancy can’t follow and Carlos has to reluctantly let go of his tight hold on TK’s hand.

His heart shatters as he watches the doctors and nurses wheel TK away, feeling like he’s been ripped away from him.

He stands there for what seems like hours, watching the hallway long after TK was pushed into the elevator, Carlos’s eyes fixed on its closed doors. He feels a hand land on his shoulder, and he doesn’t need to turn to know who it is.

“Come on, Carlos,” Tommy’s soft voice reaches him.

Carlos lets her lead him towards the waiting area and he drops into one of the plastic chairs, hating how familiar they have become.

He shakes his head then drops it slightly and only looks up when a few wet wipes are in his line of sight.

He gratefully accepts them but doesn’t move for a few moments after. His gaze is focused on his own hands, his hands that are covered with TK’s blood. And his ring, his ring is coated in crimson, nearly obscuring the silver underneath and it makes his stomach churn in an unnatural way.

Carlos closes his eyes, going back to the day TK had slid this ring onto his finger, to the joy and contentment they had both felt, they way they basked in each other’s love when Carlos had said yes. A tear rolls down the officer’s cheek, one he doesn’t bother wiping away. He sniffs, opening his eyes and begins cleaning his hands.

Once the evidence of TK’s accident and injury is transferred to the wipes, Nancy takes them from Carlos’s hold and throws them away before sitting down, too.

The silence stretches, the feel and sound of the hospital nearly haunting. Owen’s arrival breaks it, Carlos looking up when he hears his name being called from afar.

“Carlos,” Owen’s eyes are wide and movement quick.

“Owen,” Carlos gets to his feet in time for the Captain to throw his arms around him in a hug, which Carlos returns.

Owen gives Carlos a squeeze before pulling back. “Did they say anything?”

Carlos shakes his head. “They took his straight up, didn’t say much of anything.”

Owen nods and sits on the chair next to Carlos’s as he too returns to it.

Tommy and Nancy’s radios spring to life a little bit later, and they reluctantly leave, promising to be back as soon as they can.

Carlos starts rolling his ringer over his finger, a gesture he does when he’s nervous or anxious. TK would always notice, and he’d reach out, taking Carlos’s hand and holds it tightly; a silent promise that he isn’t alone, and that TK’s got him. Carlos would give anything to feel TK’s tender touch.

He notices that his ring is still speckled with blood.

“I’ll be right back,” Carlos says as he rises from his place. “Just going to the bathroom.”

Owen nods. “Take your time.”

Carlos follows the signs to the nearest bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror as he gets closer to the sinks. The bathroom is empty, his boots echoing in the space, his eyes not leaving his exhausted reflection staring back at him. All the color has been drained from his face, his eyes a stark red against his pale skin and his usually neat curls are out of place. His eyes drift lower until they stop at his waist where there’s a large, dark stain. His uniform is stained with TK’s blood.

He swallows as he turns on the faucet and lets the water run down at the coldest temperature before sticking his hands under it and working the remaining traces of blood off his ring. He momentarily relishes the cool sensation against his skin, but he soon breaks watching the pink-tinted water swirl down the drain.

It feels like TK is getting further and further away from him as each second passes by. He feels like he’s losing TK.

Helplessness settles in his bones, barely turning off the water and he grips the marble to support himself as his entire body starts to shake with the force of his oncoming sobs. A cry rips through his throat and he tightens his hold on the marble, afraid that his knees will no longer hold him up and he’ll crumble to the ground if he lets go.

He feels the fear crawling underneath his skin, the terror ringing through his whole being, the longing, the pain…it all washes over him at the same time, and he almost collapses from the weight of it. But he holds on. TK needs him to hold on. So he draws in a deep breath, stands up straight and splashes icy water over his face a few times.

Carlos returns to the waiting area with swollen eyes and Owen runs a hand up and down his back once he’s seated next to him once again, patting his shoulder before pulling back.

“We…we were planning on going over to my parents’ for dinner this weekend,” Carlos’s shaky voice slices through the silence that settles over them. “Our schedules lined up and TK was so excited. He,” he pauses, a small smile forming on his face. “He was saying how we should bake something to take to dinner. Chocolate chip cookies. They’re his go-to when it comes to baking,” he trails off, his hands connecting and he starts nervously fidgeting, rubbing his hands together. “Chocolate chip cookies,” he whispers.

“They were always his favorite kind of cookies when he was a kid,” Owen says.

Carlos turns to look at Owen, his features broken and eyes filled with fragments of loss and aching. “He’s going to be okay, right? He has to be. He…has to be okay.”

“He’s strong, and he’s in the best of hands. He’s going to fight to come back to us, to come back to you, Carlos. The happiest I’ve ever seen my son was when he was with you, even in the beginning, when you were still figuring things out, there was something different about him, I could see it, I could feel it. He seemed lighter, brighter. His eyes lit up. I didn’t want to pry or push to know more, but when I saw you together, I knew. You were the missing piece he needed, you helped make him better, stronger. He’s going to come back to that.”

“It was the same with me. He saved me, in so many ways,” Carlos expresses.

“You saved each other,” Owen replies with a smile, giving Carlos’s knee a squeeze.

Carlos and Owen move to the waiting room on the surgical floor a little while later. Owen sits down on an identical plastic chair while Carlos paces around the room.

He stops when he looks out into the hallway and sees the rest of the team making their way towards them, all wearing the same concerned look on their faces.

“We got here as fast as we could,” Judd says as they step inside.

“Have you heard anything yet?” Marjan asks, her eyebrows drawn together.

Owen shakes his head. “He’s been in surgery for almost two hours.”

“He’s a strong kid, he’ll make it through,” Judd speaks with a steady voice.

“I should go call my mom, let her know what happened,” Carlos starts walking towards the door.

Paul pats Carlos’s shoulder as he passes him, and Carlos responds with an appreciative nod.

Carlos’s short trip to go outside is a haze, moving robotically until he’s stepping into the open air, the sun still high in the sky. It’s hot, Carlos closes his eyes and tilts his head up in the direction of the sun, letting its warmth seep into his skin. He takes a deep breath as he opens his eyes, pulls out his phone and he notices a few texts from Mitchell. He makes a mental note to reply later and moves to the phone icon, touching his mother’s contact from his favorites list.

One ring, two rings, three rings…

“Carlitos!”

“Mami…”

Andrea immediately picks up on his broken tone. “What’s wrong, mijo?”

“It’s…There was an accident…a car pile up downtown and…TK, he…he was in it,” Carlos’s voice cracks.

“Oh, Dios,” Andrea draws in a sharp breath. “How is he?” She asks and Carlos can hear rustling and movement in the background now.

“He…he lost a lot of blood, Ma. He was stuck in the car and his side was hurt…they took him straight to surgery and we haven’t heard anything yet,” Carlos sniffs.

“Where are you? I’m on my way,” Andrea says.

Carlos can hear the emotion in his mother’s voice and he knows she’s trying to keep her worry and fear for TK from breaking through the phone. She’s always been Carlos’s rock, strong and steady, and he can tell by her tone that she’s keeping it together for him. Still, though, he can hear the slight waver in her voice at the knowledge that her soon to be son-in-law is badly injured, currently undergoing surgery.

Since the moment TK was officially introduced to Carlos’s parents, they welcomed him into their family with wide, open arms. They had immediately liked him and adored him, Andrea happily whispering it into Carlos’s ear at the end of that very night. They saw the love between him and their son, and it had uplifted Andrea and Gabriel’s spirits and filled their own hears with so much love and glee.

And when Carlos had called them one night, voice filled with bliss and excitement, telling them that TK had proposed to him, Andrea and Gabriel wept tears of joy.

Knowing how much Andrea loves TK, telling her that he was hurt is one of the hardest things Carlos has ever had to do.

“We’re at West Park Memorial,” Carlos replies.

With a promise from Andrea to be there shortly, they end the call. He returns to the waiting room a few minutes later, everyone’s eyes landing on him. Carlos feels shrunk, his shoulders drawn in, his body feeling so heavy.

“She’s on her way,” he says before turning to stare into the direction of the operating rooms.

“No news yet,” it’s Judd who speaks next, reading Carlos’s mind.

Carlos nods and returns to his seat next to Owen.

Silence falls onto the room, everyone doing little things to keep themselves busy. Mateo praying, Marjan and Paul standing and pacing, Judd grabbing a couch pillow and holding it against his chest, Owen’s head is thrown back against the wall with his eyes closed and Carlos’s leg starts bouncing up and down while he fidgets with his hands. His fingers gravitate towards his ring, the one tangible piece of TK he has with him in this moment. Carlos always gravitates towards TK.

The team eventually get called away to a rescue with their promises too to return as soon as they can.

Carlos’s phone rings and a glance at his screen tells him it’s his mother.

“Ma,” Carlos answers.

“Hi, mijo. I’m walking in now, where are you?”

“We’re in the waiting room on the surgical floor,” Carlos tells her.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

Carlos spots Andrea hurrying through the hall, handbag clutched against her side soon after they hang up.

“Carlitos,” Andrea breaths as she steps into the room.

Carlos walks over to her and falls against her as she wraps him in a tight hug.

“It’s okay, mijo. Va a estar bien,” she whispers reassuringly, holding him in a steady grip. It’s going to be okay.

Carlos returns the embrace, burying his face in his mother’s neck, more tears spring to his eyes at being held by his mother and feeling her safety and comfort.

There’s a considerable height difference between Carlos and Andrea, but right now, Carlos may as well be a little boy and she a giant. Her protective hold on him is steady and grounding.

Once they pull back, Andrea cups Carlos’s face and wipes the fallen tears with the pads of her thumbs.

“Any news?”

Carlos shakes his head.

Andrea walks over to Owen, who gets up and they exchange a quick hug.

“He’s going to be fine,” Andrea says as she takes a seat next to her son.

Carlos nods, his eyes drifting back to his ring.

“There was a missing ingredient,” Andrea says after a while.

Carlos frowns as he turns to look at her.

“I was talking to him this morning, I sent him the family recipe for tamales,” she explains. “He wanted to surprise you but there was one missing thing.”

“Our dinner date tonight…that’s why he was out, he was going to the store,” Carlos connects the dots, eyes filling with tears.

Andrea nods.

“That was his surprise,” the realization dawns on Carlos. “He knows tamales are my favorite,” a small smile forms on his face.

Andrea places her palm on the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him gently towards her. He goes easily and rests his forehead against her shoulder. She whispers comforting words in Spanish as she runs her fingers over Carlos’s short hair just above his neck. He closes his eyes, evening out his breathing as he soaks up his mother’s comfort.

*****

Carlos is staring into nothingness almost an hour later, his eyes glued to to the hallway but unseeing. His mind on TK, all figures that pass through and walk the hallway blurred. Until one doctor is walking towards the waiting room, his form getting clearer and clearer as Carlos forces his vision to focus on him.

The doctor is visibly tired, his face crunched up, still wearing his surgical cap as he enters the room. Carlos can’t read him, and that worries him even more. He braces himself, swallowing as the doctor starts speaking.

“Family of Tyler Strand?”

“TK,” Owen corrects as he gets to his feet. “How’s my son?”

Carlos and Andrea follow suit, the tension building in the small space.

The doctor nods at Owen. “TK made it through,” he offers them a kind smile.

The collective breath Owen, Carlos and Andrea were holding is released as they breathe out a sigh of relief. Carlos closes his eyes, letting the doctor’s words sink in, sagging forward a little. He feels Andrea’s hand running up and down his back, grounding him and he leans into her warm touch.

“There were some complications, however,” the doctor continues. “We were mostly concerned about the amount of blood he lost, which caused his blood pressure to drop. His numbers were low during the surgery but we were able to keep him stable and with some blood transfusions, his blood pressure began to improve. The metal shard nicked his kidney but it didn’t cause major damage, we were also able to repair the laceration. Brain scans were all normal, indicating no brain injury. His chest is bruised and he has a minor lung contusion from the force of the seatbelt, but that will heal on its own. He’s young and healthy, I expect him to make a full recovery.”

“Can we see him?” Andrea asks, knowing it’s on Carlos’s mind and also knowing Carlos is still processing the doctor’s prognosis.

The doctor nods. “He’s currently in recovery and he can have visitors once he’s settled in a room after some observation. I’ll make sure a nurse comes to inform you when he’s ready.”

“Thank you so much, doctor,” Owen extends his hand.

The doctor nods once more, shaking Owen’s hand. “He’ll be home in no time.”

Carlos is rolling his ring on his finger and nervously bouncing his leg a while later when a young nurse approaches them.

“TK is ready for visitors,” she announces with a smile.

Owen turns to look at Carlos. “Go,” he urges.

“Are you sure?” Carlos asks.

Owen nods. “I’m sure, I’ll stop by to see him in a while.”

Owen pats Carlos’s shoulder as the officer gets to his feet and follows the nurse towards TK’s room.

“I’ll be back in an hour to check on him,” the nurse says as they come to a halt in front of a closed door. “The nurses’ station is down the hall if you need anything, or you can just press the call button near the bed.”

“Thank you,” Carlos says, taking a deep breath and pushing the door open.

He knew what to expect, he knew what his eyes would land on once he stepped into the room but still, seeing TK looking so small and still in the hospital bed shakes Carlos to his core.

An ache bolts up and down his body as he makes his way towards TK, his footsteps echoing off the walls, the only sound aside from the beeping of the heart monitor. He doesn’t take his eyes off his fiancé as he lowers himself on the chair situated next to the bed, watching as the paramedic’s chest rises and falls with each breath he takes.

Carlos is at least glad to see that TK has regained some color but it’s the stillness that also makes the officer uneasy. TK is always active, even when he’s asleep, twisting and turning in bed every now and then. Carlos would say he’s a light sleeper, he loved when TK started spending the night in the early days of their relationship. Though TK’s restlessness would sometimes wake Carlos from his slumber, he’d wrap an arm around TK’s middle and drift off to sleep again only for it to happen again a few hours later. Carlos never minded that, though, he’d be woken up by many things over the years, and being woken up by TK’s movement is by far his favorite.

Eventually, those movements from the younger man through the night had become a source of comfort for Carlos over the months, a reminder that TK is right next to him, in his bed. It grounded Carlos, and a sleepy smile would spread over his face as he gravitates towards those movements, warmth spreading through his body.

But here, right now, Carlos shivers, an icy sensation darting through his nerves. TK’s stillness is wrong, all wrong and so unlike TK is breaks Carlos’s heart all over again.

Carefully, Carlos reaches out, clasping TK’s hand in his own and prays that he can feel the familiar pressure.

“Hi, baby,” Carlos eventually speaks, his voice hoarser than he expected. “I’m here and you’re okay. They took really good care of you and you’ll be back on your feet in no time. I just…I miss you, Ty.”

The only response Carlos gets is the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

He sighs, running his thumb over TK’s knuckles. “I miss your voice, your smile, those beautiful green eyes of yours…your kiss. Come back to me, babe. This is only our beginning, we still have so much to do together. And I’ll be right here, right by your side, always. I’m not going anywhere,” Carlos vows.

Some time later, Carlos is so focused on TK and watching him, he doesn’t hear the knock on the door or it being pushed open until he senses another presence in the room.

He turns to see Owen stepping in, and stops by the foot of the bed.

“He looks better,” the Captain says, his eyes glued to his son.

Carlos nods, and continues running his fingers through TK’s hair.

“Your mom is heading to your place to pack a bag for you and TK,” Owen adds after a few moments. “She said to tell you to call or text her if there’s anything in specific you’d like her to get. And she’s also getting you some food.”

Carlos nods again. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat, though.”

Owen’s eyes soften. “I know, but you have to keep your strength up. He’s going to need you when he wakes up. You need to take care of yourself so you can take care of him.”

Carlos knows Owen is right, so he doesn’t argue. “Thank you,” he tells Owen.

“Thank you,” Owen reciprocates. “You saved his life.”

“Part of me hopes I could have done more, I felt so helpless just…I wish I could have done more,” Carlos drops his head.

“Hey, Carlos,” Owen walks over so he’s behind the officer. He places a hand on Carlos’s shoulder and gives him a supportive squeeze. “You did everything you could, I know you did. I’ve seen so many accidents to know that in that pile up today, TK’s chances were…” he trails off, shaking his head. “His chances weren’t good. If it wasn’t for you, TK wouldn’t be here right now.”

The mere thought of that brings tears to Carlos’s eyes. “A guy flagged me down and…I followed him and then I realized it was TK and…my whole world stopped.”

Owen nods. “I hate that you had to go through that but…part of me is glad it was you who got to him. Because I know you would have done, and did do, everything you can to keep him alive. You climbed into the wrecked car, and that says everything.”

Carlos moves his hand to cup TK’s face, lightly tracing his cheekbone with the tip of his thumb. “I would do anything to make sure he’s okay.”

A moment of silence washes over them as Owen dips his hand into his pocket and pulls it out, fist closed before opening his palm in front of Carlos.

“Here,” Owen says.

Carlos looks down into Owen’s open hand and a tear rolls down his cheek when he sees TK’s ring there.

“The nurse gave me his stuff after she lead you here. I thought you should hold on to it for him,” Owen explains.

Carlos sniffs, reaches out and takes the ring. He secures it in a fist and brings his hand over his heart, holding it there before leaning forward and brushing a kiss to TK’s temple.

*****

Owen stays until Andrea is knocking on the door, walking into a room carrying a duffel bag and a brown paper bag. The delicious smell immediately hits Carlos and his stomach rumbles. His mother must have heard it because she gives him a knowing smile.

Owen excuses himself a few minutes later, making Carlos promise to call if anything changes. With one final glance at his son, Owen leaves.

Carlos settles on the small table in the corner of the room as he unwraps the food his mom brought him. Andrea stands near the bed and plants a tender kiss to TK’s forehead then sits in the chair previously occupied by Carlos.

Carlos watches the sweet exchange and feels his heart flutter in his chest at the sight. It’s such a simple gesture but it speaks volumes of the way Andrea had come to love TK and happily welcome him into the family. Carlos had witnessed TK and Andrea growing closer and closer over the course of their relationship and it had made him happier than words could express. He’d smile, his heart soaring as he watched them in conversation or watched TK help Andrea in the kitchen, talking about anything and everything, while preparing dinner together at the Reyes ranch.

There’s pain and sadness in his heart at seeing Andrea sit next to TK’s hospital bed. And even more when he hears his mother’s broken whisper of oh, amor, as her eyes roam over TK’s battered face and he can tell she’s imagining the layers of bandages hidden underneath his gown.

Carlos can tell she’s struggling, trying to remain strong for both him and TK. Because not only is Andrea’s Carlos’s rock and support, but she is also TK’s.

“It’s okay, Ma,” Carlos reassures her. There’s so many layers to those three words, and she catches on to each and every one.

She gives him a small, sad smile, her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“Your dad sends his love, and he said he’ll be by to visit TK soon, once he’s awake and strong,” Andrea says a little while later, after Carlos had finished eating, freshened up, changed into sweats and a hoodie, and returned to TK’s side.

She was about to get up to vacate his seat then, but Carlos shook his head and gestured for her to remain seated there. He dropped into the chair on the other side of the bed, the one Owen had grabbed from near the wall and had been sitting in.

Visiting hours were coming to an end and Andrea was getting ready to leave. With a gentle pat to TK’s cheek, she gets to her feet and clutches her handbag, Carlos following her.

“Carlitos,” she starts but Carlos is quickly shaking his head, knowing what she’s going to say.

“I can’t leave him,” he answers.

Andrea sighs. “It’s going to be busy in here tonight, they’ll be checking on TK every couple of hours and you need to rest, too.”

“I know, but I won’t be able to sleep if I do go home either. I’ll stay wide awake, worrying and wondering and going back home now, going back to our bed, without him or without knowing he’s really okay…I can’t. At least staying, I can grab an hour here and there when they aren’t checking on him.”

Andrea nods after a moment. She knew deep down that Carlos would stay, hence the bag she had packed. She’s cupping Carlos’s face, caressing his cheek before pulling him into a hug.

He goes easily, wrapping his arms around his mother and returning the hug. Her strong hold on him gives him strength himself, almost transferring some of hers to him and he soaks it all up.

“He’s going to be just fine,” Andrea whispers, kissing Carlos’s cheek as they separate.

Carlos nods.

“I love you, mijo,” Andrea expresses. “I love you both.”

“We love you, too, Ma.”

After a similar promise to Andrea like the one made to Owen, she leaves, grabbing the bag sitting next to the door containing Carlos’s bloodstained uniform on her way out.

Carlos returns to his original place next to the bed, his hand going back to TK’s.

“It’s just you and me now, babe.”

*****

It starts with one slow movement. It’s so slow Carlos would have probably missed it if he weren’t watching TK as closely as he is.

The sun has climbed high in the sky, the hours ticked by from the time Carlos had given up on sleep around dawn. It was a night filled with fitful and restless sleep, as he had expected and between the nurse checking on TK and Carlos’s own worry, the officer managed to get three hours of shuteye.

He couldn’t sleep past the moment light cracked through the darkness of the sky above, so he got up, running a hand through his loose curls and stretched his aching muscles. The sun slowly got higher and stronger, painting the sky in streaks of orange, yellow and red, the colors morphing together in a magical way. He watched the process through the thin curtain, getting lost in it for a few moments before directing his attention back to TK.

TK who still hadn’t woken up. Who hasn’t even stirred.

Carlos was awake during the nurse’s more recent visit and she had assured him that it was perfectly normal, that TK’s body still needed some rest and that TK is doing well. He thanked her, giving her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes followed by a nod when she mentioned there’s a coffee station just down the hall.

He feels TK’s ring sitting in his pocket, and he longs for the moment when he’ll able to slip it back on his finger, where it belongs.

He kept a positive attitude, repeating the nurse’s comforting words in his mind over and over, clinging to them as more minutes passed by with no indication from his fiancé of waking up.

“Come back to me, baby,” Carlos had whispered, giving TK’s hand a light squeeze.

He eventually left the room for a quick trip to the mentioned coffee station, and was back by TK’s side in a matter of minutes.

He kept himself occupied replying to texts he had received—from Mitchell, some of his other colleagues at the precinct, and most recently the 126 group chat, while keeping an eye on TK, as well.

The texts were all replied to and the coffee had long been consumed when the slow movement from the bed catches Carlos’s attention.

A small nudge of TK’s head to side, his eyes still closed. For a second, Carlos thinks his mind is playing a trick on him. But then it happens again, in the other direction and that has Carlos moving forward, heart picking up speed in his chest.

“TK?” Carlos calls. “TK, can you hear me?”

His heart is on its way to sinking from the lack of response from the paramedic, but instead flutters because TK is slowly opening his eyes and finding Carlos through the haze.

Carlos’s face breaks into a smile that does reach his eyes this time, said eyes also filling with tears at the sight of the green irises he has so terribly missed.

“Hi, baby, hi,” Carlos continues, his voice soft.

“‘Los,” TK breaths, his voice scratchy and low but it’s his voice and Carlos can almost weep at his nickname that only TK uses.

“I’m here, I’m here. You’re okay,” Carlos reassures him. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

Carlos’s hand moves to cup TK’s face, caressing his cheek and his heart sings when TK summons all the energy he can and leans into Carlos’s touch.

“Get some more rest, babe, I’m not going anywhere,” Carlos says when he notices TK drifting back to sleep.

Watching TK’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm now, TK’s ring in Carlos’s pocket feels lighter.

*****

The sun is getting lower when TK wakes up again. Andrea had passed by and joined Carlos for lunch a couple of hours before, Carlos feeling better and able to eat properly.

He was sitting in his usual spot on the chair next to the bed, mindlessly going through his phone and switching between apps when the same nudge of TK’s head pulls his attention, albeit it’s a little more frantic than the previous ones.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Carlos gets closer to TK, eyes on his face.

TK’s eyes are faster in opening this time, landing on Carlos and then looking around the room.

“Carlos?”

“Right here, I’m right here.”

“What…” TK’s eyebrows draw together, confusion written all over his face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Carlos takes hold of TK’s hand. “You were in an accident, you were hurt pretty bad but they took care of you and everything’s okay. Do you remember?”

TK nods after a second and swallows against his dry throat.

“Do you want some water?”

TK nods again.

Carlos grabs the plastic cup from the nightstand and guides the straw through TK’s parched lips. “Easy, slow sips.”

“How—how bad is it?” TK asks once he’s done drinking.

Carlos sighs as he returns the cup. “We don’t have to talk about that now.”

“Please…I…I need to know,” TK says with a low tone.

After a moment, Carlos nods. “You were stuck in the backseat, you had some cuts and scraps, a concussion, bruise from the seatbelt and…there was a piece of metal lodged in your side. You lost a lot of blood, and I tried to keep pressure as much as I could but I didn’t want to hurt you more and…” he sucks in a shaky breath.

TK uses his energy to squeeze Carlos’s hand, knowing where the officer’s mind is going, taking him back to the horrific accident scene. TK squeezes Carlos’s hand to ground him and bring him back to the present.

“Never in a million years had I expected to see you in that crash…I was actually thinking the opposite, that I won’t see you because it’s your day off. But then the universe flipped the table on me and there you were…” Carlos trails off and then shakes his head. “I’m sorry, you just woke up, this…this isn’t what you should be hearing.”

It’s TK’s turn to gently shake his head. “Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for. Whatever you need to let out, and everything you’re feeling and thinking…I’m here to listen, no matter what.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” Carlos lowers his gaze.

“Look at me, baby, look at me. You can never overwhelm me…I know how tough this has been, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Carlos tightens his hold on TK’s hand. “I was…so scared. I felt so helpless and it felt like you were being ripped away from me. And for a moment you were, when they wheeled you away and it broke me, in that moment, I shattered,” the tears get heavier in his eyes and with a blink, a tear falls and streaks down his cheek.

TK’s own eyes well up at seeing the pain and heartbreak drawn on Carlos’s face and coating his voice, wanting nothing more than to take it all away.

“I remember coming to after I blacked out from the initial crash and it was…terrifying. My mind hadn’t completely caught up with what happened and once it did, I was really scared,” TK sniffs. “I felt so alone. But you know what? When I saw you, well, at first I thought I was dreaming but then you reached out to me and touched me and it felt real, you felt real and warm and you were right there…I knew in my heart you were there and I wasn’t scared anymore. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I knew you would save me, like you did so many times before.”

More tears roll down Carlos’s cheeks at TK’s words.

“And you did. You saved me, ‘Los.”

Carlos lunges forward, taking TK’s face gently in his hands and plants a kiss on TK’s forehead.

“You saved me just as much,” Carlos whispers, looking into TK’s eyes where brown meets green, and there’s so much said without needing words, so much love communicated and felt. Carlos leans in, first touching their foreheads together and then brushing a tentative kiss to TK’s lips. And Carlos feels whole again.

“Also,” Carlos starts once he pulls back. “We’re definitely making those tamales once we’re back home.”

“You know?”

Carlos nods. “Ma told me. Missing one ingredient.”

“Yeah…I wanted to surprise you. You’ve been working so hard lately and I wanted to do something for you,” TK expresses.

“That means everything, TK. I just hate that you got hurt, I know neither of us could control what happened but still…I hate that it happened.”

TK nods. “But I’m here and I’m okay.”

“You are,” Carlos drops a kiss to TK’s cheek this time. “And one more thing,” he adds, a hand digging into his pocket.

He opens his palm in front of TK to reveal his ring and TK looks up at him, eyes glistening.

“I believe this belongs to you,” Carlos holds out his free hand to TK.

TK carefully lifts his hand and gives it to Carlos.

He watches as Carlos slides the ring on his finger, the familiar weight of it a comfort. He closes his eyes when Carlos brushes a kiss to the ring now sitting where it belongs, relishing in the touch.

“I love you, Ty, now and forever.”

Carlos's eyes are so soft and filled with love and adoration, it makes TK's heart swell with just as much love. He smiles, knowing he's found a home in Carlos. And he knows with his whole being that Carlos has found one in him, too.

“I love you too, ‘Los, always.”

And when TK gives Carlos the smile that’s reserved for only him, Carlos knows in his heart that they’re going to be just fine.

107 notes · View notes

whimperwoods · 4 years ago

Text

Part 5 of Gozukk and Anna

First part is here. Second part is here. Third part is here. Fourth part is here.

I think I got everybody who asked to be on the tag list but lmk if I missed you and I’ll add you! I want to say thankful gratitude words here because of the support I’ve gotten on this one but I’m stressed out and can’t find them? Anyway, here are some Thanks and some Gratitude.

tw: slavery (past), tw: past abuse, tw: restricted eating behaviors, tw: past withholding of food

Tag list: @redwingedwhump, @nine-tailed-whump, @thehurtsandthecomfurts @kixngiggles, @bluebadgerwhump, @dragonheart905, @carolinethedragon, @whumpzone, @newbornwhumperfly, @cupcakes-and-pain, @much-ado-about-whumping

****

Gozukk knew when to leave well enough alone, but he mostly knew it because having Djaana for a sister had taught him the hard way more than enough times. Even so, it was difficult going about his day with the image of the half-elf woman’s wide, frightened eyes stuck in his mind.

Anna, her name was, apparently, and Djaana had faithfully reported back to him about her injuries and left him quaking with anger, standing helplessly beside his own tent while she went back to her own and rejoined the group of laughing, talking women mending clothes. Djaana had told him the woman would calm down in her own time, as if he hadn’t known that already, and he’d taken it as a tacit instruction to stay away from her for a while and not try to help.

It didn’t make it any easier to do.

He wasn’t out with the scouts and he couldn’t take out a hunting party just now and he needed something to do with his hands. More than with his hands. He needed full-body work, something to keep him distracted and let him get out the frustration of not having a way to fix things, just yet.

There was so much that needed doing, but he couldn’t stand still to work out a good list of priorities, not like he wanted to, so he settled for the first thing his mind hit on that seemed physical enough and collected rugs from the midwife’s and healer’s tents, hanging them from a line and beating the dust out of them so that they would be clean if anyone came back injured and needed help.

Mazogga looked at him like she knew exactly what she was up to, and maybe she did. She’d delivered him when he was born, and he remembered being a child and being sure she could see right through him, him and everybody else. She let him take her rugs, though, and she asked after the half-elf girl without pressing too hard, and the clouds of fine dust he could beat out of her rug were calming, somehow. She wasn’t as strong as she’d once been and the rug had been swept plenty, but the full strength of his arms drove more free than he thought she could manage and made him feel useful.

Before he gave in to the urge to check on his guest, he returned everything to its proper place and gathered up something for her to eat. She was too thin, but he wasn’t sure whether that meant she needed more food or gentler food, just now. He settled for dried fruit, bread, and some of the yogurt from the herd’s milk. Then, after a moment’s pause, he retrieved a small piece of honey comb, harder to come by, but good if the woman wasn’t used to anything so tart.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the tent.

The woman was kneeling with her head down, just as she’d been when the humans pushed her down in front of him, but at least this time, surrounded by cushions and soft lantern light, she looked a little bit more relaxed. Maybe. He hoped.

“Hello,” he said, his voice as gentle as he could keep it without falling into the tone one used with babies and toddlers and not grown women, “I’ve realized I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Gozukk. I’ve brought you something to eat.”

Anna looked up, the bruises on her face a little bit less obvious in the lantern light than they’d been in the full sun, but still clearly visible around her eyes. She looked startled and afraid, but at least this time she kept breathing normally, ducking her head back down but keeping together much better than she had the first time.

“Thank you, Master,” she said softly. Then, hesitantly, she added, “I’m -” she bit her lip, “not sure . . . what I’ve done to earn it yet.” Her voice faded nearly to a whisper and her eyes closed tight, flinching away prematurely.

Gozukk’s gut tightened, but he kept his face even as he moved to sit beside her, not too close, with the food laid out between them. Anna was trembling faintly, but her breathing was steady, and he needed to keep it that way.

“Look at me,” he ordered, nearly at a whisper himself.

She obeyed immediately, wide brown-green eyes meeting his own deeper brown ones.

He reached over and cupped her cheek in one hand. “I understand why you don’t believe me. But you are safe here. I will not ask anything of you that you do not volunteer to give, yourself.

Her hands had come up instinctively, suspended in the air, halfway to his arm, not willing to touch him, but ready to fight him off, and he let go of her face to let her look down again if she wanted to. Instead, those striking eyes searched his face, and he suddenly had no idea what she saw in it. He was thinking too hard about his own face and it had become a mystery.

When her eyes flicked downward again it was almost a relief. “I - I don’t understand why you traded for me, then.” She licked her lips like her mouth was dry, looking pained. “I heard your agreement, and I know the stones he gave you aren’t worth . . . enough.” She paused again, her voice sounding suddenly scratchy and dull. “I . . . know what I am. Sir. I don’t need you to pretend. I’ll be good.”

By the end, every phrase sounded painful, like she was forcing it out of her body, air from a bellows.

He didn’t have an answer for that. He couldn’t have an answer for that without standing up and pacing, moving until he could think again, and there was no way that wouldn’t frighten Anna. He was angry, angry deep, down to his soul, but not at her. He took a breath to steady himself and rose to his feet. “I forgot to bring you something to drink. I’ll be back.”

He gestured toward the plate, “That’s for you. Eat whatever looks best.”

He took the long way around the camp to fetch water, and then collected some soft cheese, and a handful of nuts, and his thoughts.

When he returned, a few of the dried fruits were gone and Anna looked guilty, though whether she felt bad for having eaten or not having eaten, he couldn’t say.

“You don’t have to eat everything,” he said, still careful with his voice, careful with his volume and his tone, careful not to sound angry, not to sound pitying, not to sound as if he thought she were an infant, and he realized he was holding tension in his shoulders. “Just know that it’s here to be yours. I want you to have what you need.”

He put the cheese and nuts on her plate and set down the water skin, then busied himself getting a brazier set up, its coals lit, and a fired clay pot heating for tea. The motion was good. Helpful. It kept him from having to talk or keep silent, helped his brain keep working even as the woman a few feet away from him continued to fill him with an exhausting mix of anxiety and rage.

She ate another few pieces of fruit hesitantly, half watching him through her eyelids, and he kept his eyes on his hands, kept his mind on lighting fire, pouring water, measuring tea, so that he wouldn’t have to decide what he wanted her to see as she looked at him. It was better that way. Trying to decide was too complicated, and too confusing.

By the time the tea was ready, her fingers had flicked toward the bread, but then she’d stopped herself, reached for the nuts instead, a little at a time, as if expecting to be cut off or to have her hand slapped away. Little pieces, then. He catalogued that away for the future. Little pieces, he could manage.

“Be careful,” he said, holding a cup of tea out toward her, “It’s hot.”

Her eyes flicked up to his face for just a moment as she took the cup, and whatever she saw seemed to reassure her, because she pulled the cup in toward her chest, held it awkwardly close, but did not refuse it or put it down.

He lifted his own cup, blowing on the liquid and then taking a sip to prove it was alright.

“Hmmk,” he grunted, “Nope. Still too hot. Give yours a minute.”

For a moment, he could almost swear he saw the ghost of a smile on her lips, but then it was gone again, the anxious wrinkle between her eyes all that was left behind.

Hesitantly, she reached for the cheese, eating it in slightly larger bites than he had expected. Another thing to file away for later. Cheese.

He blew on his tea again, but there was only so much he could do now that he didn’t have a task with his hands. He should have made coffee, instead, but he hadn’t known if she would like it. Or perhaps he shouldn’t have. Either way, his hands were unoccupied again and he hated it.

“Djaana, the woman who was here to look after your wounds, is my sister. She told me your back’s in pretty bad shape. I have some salves for treating battle wounds that you’re welcome to use if you need them.”

Her eyes flicked upward toward him again, glancing through her eyelashes and the steam from her cup.

He held out a hand. “I notice she didn’t bandage your wrists. Do you mind if I take a look? Just while the tea is cooling.”

Anna’s arms twitched instinctively closer to her chest and he started to withdraw his hand, but then her fingers clenched around the cup in her hand and she spoke up, stopping him. “I - I think it’s a good idea. But perhaps . . . perhaps after? I-” she ducked her head down farther. “I am hungry.”

He wanted to reach out and pat her arm, her shoulder, her cheek, anything to prove he was happy to hear it, but he kept his hands to himself and just smiled, instead. “Of course. There’s a good chance the scouts will come home with meat when they’re finished looking over the humans’ tracks. Until then, I can bring you more of anything that’s helping. We’ve got enough.”

She blushed. “Oh, Sir, I didn’t mean - I couldn’t possibly. This is - this is enough.”

She let go of the cup with one hand and grabbed for the bread before she could think herself out of it again, taking a bite quickly and then closing her eyes again, though this time he couldn’t read why in her face.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see. “Just as well. I’ll get the salve from the other room.”

Moving away didn’t feel quite as essential this time, and Anna seemed to shrink away less as he walked past her. Progress, if slight. He took deep breaths and let himself calm down into it. They were making progress. Things were going to be alright. Right?

He rearranged his medicine kit as he drank his tea, re-rolling bandages and sorting them by length, his hands moving and his eyes focused on his task so Anna wouldn’t feel like he was watching her eat, even as he kept half an eye on the plate of food and her fingers dancing across it, choosing, hesitating, and taking.

When they were both finished, he held his hand out again. “Your wrists?”

He expected her to avert her eyes again, to refuse to watch, but this time she held an arm out tentatively toward him with her head up, her eyes searching his face. Her arm shook, but not with the same full terror as before.

It was the arm he’d examined earlier, but this time she was watching him look at it, and he felt himself blushing slightly this time, his turn to feel watched. He wanted to get a better look at the welts this time, but he needed to make the most of her trust while he had it.

He pulled a small container of ointment from his medicine kit, one he knew was soothing on shallowly broken skin, and smoothed it over the rope burns, covering it with a thin layer of bandages he secured carefully. “Too tight?” he asked.

She shook her head no, her eyes still on him, openly watching him for the first time.

Moving on instinct, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, and this time when she looked down, it was more down than away and the ghost of a smile hovered longer, verifiable in spite of how fast it vanished again.

He got up and moved to her other side so that she wouldn’t have to hold her arm out across her body, where it might feel less under her own control. This time, he took her arm gently without asking first, waiting for her to look at him and meeting her eyes instead.

The welts on her right arm were worse, half of them scabbed over where she had been cut.

“I’ll need to wash and bandage all of this. I hate to think what your back feels like, if Djaana didn’t notice these.”

Anna looked down again. “I - think she did. I was - I’m -” she swallowed heavily, squeezing her eyes shut. “Will you tell her thank you, from me? I - I think I did, but I can’t remember.”

Gozukk smiled. “I’m sure you did. She said you were very polite.”

Anna’s arm was still in his hand, and he became very aware of the contact as she started blushing again.

He squeezed her hand and got up again to make sure he had clean water and a cloth.

The slight flinches under his touch as he trailed the damp cloth over her scraped wrist and battered arm came only when his hand crossed one of her wounds, and not from the touch itself, and when everything was clean and ointmented and bandaged, he gave into another impulse, kissing her palm this time before he let her hand go.

“There,” he said, “all set.”

The arm he’d bandaged first was tucked up against Anna’s stomach, but the second arm didn’t immediately join it, resting farther out, closer to him, and he suddenly needed to leave. He couldn’t possibly be measuring trust in quarter inches. He couldn’t. He couldn’t live like that. Could he?

“Djaana or I will let you know when the scouting party returns or it’s time to eat again. For now, you still look like you could use some rest. The blankets in the other room are yours to use if you need them.”

Leaving the tent was not running away. It was giving Anna some space. Wasn’t it? There were things that needed repairing, now that he had the time for a real project. One of the wagons had seemed to be riding unevenly last week, so surely that needed looking after. He almost turned back toward the tent, but instead, he kept moving forward.

#whump #hurt/comfort #fantasy whump #d&d whump #slavery whump #post-slavery whump #slavery tw #past slavery tw #past abuse tw #restricted eating tw #withholding of food tw #(implied)#idk y'all i feel like this came across as maybe romance adjacent??#to be fully clear gozzuk is just a tactile tactile boy who wants to ruffle his nephew's hair and hug sad people and he has to help anna #without touching her?? how do?? cannot shove in the shoulder or cuddle aggressively??#not saying romance would never ever be possible but gosh not now

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professional-benaddict · 4 years ago

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I had a vague idea in the shower, and my first line of thought was Rafni would like this... Hear me out- Little Peter is hired to be a kind of therapy dog at the hospital? Either a friend for the littles staying there, or to help caregivers who are there long term are need to be around littles to be healthy. Maybe he meets his daddies there? Either as coworkers or because his daddies have some health issue they're there for? Thought you'd like this au, do with it what you will...

This is a BRILLIANT idea I looove it!!😍😍💗💗 Thank you sm for sharing and I hope you like what I came up with🌸🌸

part two

Daddies Steve and Bucky, +18 Little Peter, patient Tony, nurse Nat, Littles are Known, Littles can work as ‘Support Littles’, hospitals, surgery, heart problems, recovery, fluff, whump

Peter is excited, he always is when he gets to go on these missions. Daddies say excitement is good, but Peter knows better than to hop and run around here. So, he keeps his excitement within himself, although he still has a little skip in this step while walking hand in hand with his Daddies.

The hospital is a familiar place to Peter, but not because he has been a patient, but because he works here. Well, his Daddies get the paycheques, they say, but they promise to spend the earned money on things Peter wants. After all, it is money that he has earned.

The programme that Peter is part of, which he cannot pronounce himself, is called The Long-Term Caregiver Patient Little Support Programme. It is more commonly know as just Little Support, and Peter has the amazing title of ‘Support Little’. It makes him sound like a superhero, and that is exactly what he feels like when walking into the hospital for his mission today. His task is to spend time with caregivers who are very sick or badly injured, and give them some relief by playing board games, colouring together or just talking. Most of the time, just the presence of a Little will brighten a caregiver’s state of mind, and that will have a positive effect on their bodies as well.

The boy has got an ID badge and everything, and so do his Daddies. All three of them had to go through testing and training to join the programme, and partly it was a tedious process, but they are all happy they decided to do it regardless. Especially Peter, who despite his Little classification has a strong will and desire to help people. Being a Support Little can be a weighing task at times, when the caregivers are very poorly, but the hospital staff are very good at evaluating who is fit for a Support Little visit and who isn’t. And even better, Peter is not obligated to take on any task. He will do as much as he wants and feels like he can handle. That is why he has both Daddies with him on these visits, to make sure Peter does not take any harm from it.

The boy holds his hands out dutifully under the antibac dispenser by the lobby in the hospital, and then rubs in the alcohol in his hands like his Daddies have taught him. Steve and Bucky also get themselves a handful of the antibac before they head up to the right ward in the large building.

“Who’re we gonna help today, Dada?” Peter asks.

“It’s another man today. His name is Tony, and he’s recovering from heart surgery.” His Dada, Bucky, informs him while leading the way. He has got his phone in his hand with all the necessary information.

“So, we can’t see doctuh Stephen? Cause he helps people with brain problems.” Peter states, looking up at his Papa, Steve. The blonde caregiver nods.

“Yeah, the heart doctors are helping the guy we are seeing today, not Stephen. We can go see if he is in his office, if you want to say hi.” Steve suggests, but Peter shakes his head.

“No, he’s super busy. He’s helping people, Papa. Fixing brain stuff.”

Steve chuckles.

“All right, all right.”

The trio make their way to the cardio ward in the hospital. Peter knows his way around here, but Steve and Bucky would never let the boy wander by himself. He is just a Little after all, so he needs guidance and support. And so before they head in to see the caregiver patient for today, Steve and Bucky make sure to check at the nurse’ station by the entrance to the ward. Bucky picks up Peter so that he can see over the counter, and the boy gasps in delight when he spots the nurse at the station.

“Nat!”

The red-head nurse looks just as delighted at seeing Peter, and smiles widely at the boy.

“Hi, Peter! It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“Am good! Thank you!” Peter replies, remembering to put on his good manners.

“Are you here to play with one of our patients again? I’m sorry I wasn’t on call when you were here last week.”

“Hmm! That’s okay. Am gonna see a... Tony! Daddies said he’s got an owie heart.” The boy says, pointing at his own chest to demonstrate where the organ is located.

“Tony Stark, specifically. He’s in 313 according to the email I got.” Bucky says and shows the information to Nat. The nurse just brushes her hand to show it is okay. The trio is quite well known here, after offering their services for over two years now.

“Yes, I’ll show you right away.” Nat says and gets up, gesturing for the family to follow her. While they walk, the nurse briefs them on the patient in question. “So, Tony’s been in and out here for a while, but this was his first major cardiac episode that lead to emergency surgery. He’s getting stronger every day, but just very slowly. The doctor was hoping that spending some time with Peter might speed up his recovery.”

“That’s why we are here.” Steve says with a smile, and Nat nods in return.

“Here we are. I’m just let him know you’ve arrived.” Nat says and slips into the patient room with the numbers 313 by the door.

Steve and Bucky know to wait outside for the nurse’s permission, and so does Peter. But, his excitement is kicking in again, with a hint of nerves as well.

“You nervous, baby?” Bucky asks and noses at Peter’s temple. The boy hums thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on the door in front of him.

“I wanna help him.” Peter replies, feeling a bit impatient already, despite the short wait. A minute later, Nat opens the door wider and invites the family in.

“He’s ready for you now.”

----

let me know if you want a part 2 c:

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i-overanalyze-musicals · 4 years ago

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Tuggoffelees Whump Prompts

This is just gonna be a big list of short little prompts because this is what screeches through my brain 24/7. Also, some have been grabbed from my previous prompts, but they fit the theme, so I'm sticking them in this list too. They were gonna be fluffy, but then not all of them came out fluffy, so

- Dramatically sick Tugger

- Misto breaks/sprains an ankle dancing

- One of them gets hypothermia, the other has to take care of them

- Misto overuses his magic

- Misto tries a new brand of magic, but it's painful to use or backfires and hurts him

- Misto escapes/is rescued from Macavity and is reunited with a very worried and emotional Tugger who has to sit by while Jenny tends to his wounds

- Tugger and Misto fight Macavity, and both have to be taken to Jenny after Macavity escapes (they hold hands while getting treated 🥺)

- Misto having nightmares of Tugger being injured

- Misto having nightmares of Macavity in general

- Tugger having nightmares of Misto being injured

- Tugger having nightmares of Macavity in general

- Tugger having nightmares of becoming like Grizabella, in a sort of jittery stop-motion vibe of him aging, being pulled away from the others, and essentially haunting the streets as Grizabella once did

- Misto dancing too much

- Tugger has a panic attack

- Tugger having separation anxiety after Grizabella and Macavity

- One of them singing the ill other to sleep

- One gets kidnapped by Macavity (probably misto tbh) and neither of them think they'll see the other again, but eventually, they do

- Mistoffelees having trauma from being tortured by Macavity

- Misto gets lost in the woods, and it gets really cold at night. When Tugger finds him, he's hypothermic and barely alive

- Mistoffelees healing from torture wounds and Tugger learning more and more of what Macavity did

- pollicle attack

- Macavity muzzling Misto and later, Tugger removing it

Here are some dragged from my previous posts:

Macavity kidnaps Mistoffelees. When he’s found, he’s so despondent it’s almost as if he’s just a body. This sends Tugger into a panic, and Misto is sent to Coricopat and Tantomile.

Has he severely disassociated as a trauma response, or is this something magical done by Macavity?

If its disassociation, what did Macavity do to make him like this and how does everybody respond/help him?

If it’s magic, how will it be fixed? Can it be fixed?

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

I saw this whump prompt (it was by @whump-galaxy). It was "The caretaker has to break the whumpee out of their dreams of paradise before they destroy themselves." And in the tags, he said it could be something like in the Gravity Falls finale.

Anyway, all that made me think, what if Cryptid Misto, in a panic because he messed something up magically, or because he's freaking out about how he looks, creates a sort of paradise? Or maybe Macavity locks him in there, sort of like Bill did to Mabel in Gravity Falls.

In this paradise, he'd look more "normal," like 1998 Misto, and he wouldn't have any concerns about his appearance or worth. Maybe no one in the junkyard stares at him oddly (whether this actually happens irl or is just something he's worried about.)

Tugger has to get him out/convince him to leave before things get even worse and tell him he should be happy, that he's loved, and that everything's going to be okay.

#tuggoffelees #mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #whump

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asunachinadoll · 4 years ago

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what’s the endgame here?

One of my favorite things about The Mandalorian is that it’s gotten us theorizing, making headcanons and meta posts, and excited to see what’s going to happen next. Like, we’re pushing through the week to Friday to get that delicious 35-45 minutes of serotonin just to start over again (till the season finale at least but let’s ignore that for now). But for the last couple weeks, my brain has been going BONKERS trying to figure out this: what’s the endgame of this show?

Just extrapolating from other pieces of media we’ve consumed, the most logical way the storyline would progress is a final FINAL big showdown of Din VS Moff Gideon, all in an attempt to save Grogu of course. They’d probably bring in old characters and it’ll be cool and stuff, right? But what happens then? Wouldn’t another Imp be assigned to the same mission and cause Din and Baby to go on the run again? We sort of see a smaller scale version of this in season one, when it was all about the Client wanting to take Grogu, just for him to be killed and be replaced with Gideon (who is a lot more intimidating of a villain in my opinion so I’m glad). We can assume that they’re wanting Grogu because of Mr. Palpatine? Although it does really seem that Gideon has is own agenda here, like maybe he’s trying to see if Force-sensitivity is transferable or something.

See, this is how I originally thought season two was going to end: Din is finally starting to realize that maybe he doesn’t want to give up the kid, or that Grogu would rather stay with him than be separated. But before we could get any emotional payoff, Moff Gideon shows up and there would be a battle. Only this time, when Din goes down, he stays down, or at least he’s so injured/held at gunpoint that he’s out of options. There is a lot of angsty/whump scenarios that could happen here, like Moff threatening to kill someone/Grogu unless Din removes his helmet, just to really gut-punch us. But either way, Moff Gideon takes Grogu and... that’s it. Screen goes black. (We would HATE it but c’mon, it’d also be a great cliff hanger. Either that or I’m a sadist XD)

THEN season three would be all about getting Baby back. Maybe Din kind of loses himself in chasing down the Empire. He reverts back to the cold bounty hunter we saw in episode one. He would definitely go through an extreme identity crisis and question his place in the child’s life, as well as question how much the kid actually means to him. And then at the end of the season, he kills Gideon, maybe Doctor Pershing too and all his research, and they ride off into the sunset. (Although my ideal ending would definitely be him reuniting with Omera LOL but I’m self-indulgent like that.)

I think we just need to see how these next two episodes play out... I could only assume that they reunite by the end (I am hoping for a happy ending here). But I’m just interested in how they would continue the show for a whole other season. Like, is another Jedi actually going to show up? One we know or a completely new character? Will Din finally realize that’s not what he or the baby wants? The possibilities!!!

#uhhhhh i am now realizing that this post did not really have a point #i just have lots of Thoughts #anyway reblog with your thoughts too please i need to see them :)))#mandadlorian #din djarin #baby yoda #grogu #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #chinadolltalks

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whumpflumpthump · 4 years ago

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Mac Whump...again...

Hello again!! I’m back with more Mac whump. However, this fic doesn’t have as large of a focus on whump as my last ones have, because I got kind of carried away... There is also some very questionable science in this fic, but it is based on facts. I will admit this isn’t my best work, but I wanted to get something out today, so here it is...

Warnings: This fic contains a gunshot and other related violence, so if this triggers you, please be safe!!

As always, if you guys have any MacGyver related prompts you would like me to fill, just send me an ask!

So, without further ado, enjoy!!

...

As Mac was running through the woods, being chased by a highly dangerous, armed, and not to mention gigantic gang member, her was wondering how things had gotten so bad, so quick. It had started out as a simple mission, infiltrate a gang of drug dealers who had recently started meddling in more dangerous affairs, just long enough to allow Riley to download some information that they could use to take down the gang. However, as with most missions the team went on, that was not how it ended up. The gang had somehow gotten wind of who they really were, and that unfortunate slip had led to Mac’s current, tiring predicament.

A gunshot rang out through the trees, and Mac risked a quick glance around to each side, making sure Riley and Jack were both still okay. Jack had turned around to return fire, and Riley, seeing Mac’s concerned glance, gave a small thumbs up. Mac sighed in relief before focusing again on not getting shot by the increasingly aggressive gang members chasing him. However, he wasn’t able to relax long, the team was quickly tiring, it had been a long trip and they were all running on low sleep. The hostiles were gaining quickly. He needed to come up with something soon, or this would not end well.

He looked around, and an idea slowly formed in his mind. About forty yards to the left, there was an old shack that looked like an old wood shop. Why it was there? He had no idea, but he was thankful regardless. If he could just get over to it, he would be able to use the saw dust as an explosive, and use it to cause a distraction that should give them enough time to escape and call for backup. But, in order to do that, he would need a distraction of his own. He turned around once again to look at Jack, and nodded his head towards the wood shack, hoping he would get his message.

It turned out all their years working together had paid off, because Jack nodded and almost immediately turned around and started firing.

“Take that you good-for-nothing scumbags. I’ll have you know, no one messes with an angry Jack Dalton and gets away unharmed.”

Jack’s threats seemed to work, at least for the moment. The gang seemed distracted, enough so that they didn’t seem to notice when Mac quickly darted over to the wood shop. As he approached, he was happy to see that his assumption was correct, and there was saw dust scattered in piles all over the ground.

Mac immediately set to work, gathering up the driest bits of dust he could find, and made a pile on an old table. After he had collected a good amount of sawdust, he started to look for something airtight to place them in. After about five seconds of frantic searching, Jack’s firing speed was slowing down as he was running out of ammo, Mac found what he was looking for, a roll of plastic wrap used to cover the wood when it rained. He quickly tore off a decent sized section, and wrapped the saw dust “bomb” he had created, leaving a small hole where he placed a rolled up piece of paper, found on the table for some kind of plans or something, to act as a wick.

As he was busy trying to form his makeshift bomb, Mac was oblivious to the gang member walking up behind him, gun raised and aimed at his chest. Right as he was about to light the paper, he heard a shout.

“Mac, watch out!”

It was Riley, eyes wide, as she watched the scene play out from safely behind a group of trees. She was presumably trying to call for help, before yelling at Mac.

He quickly turned around, and saw the gun aimed at his heart.

Time seemed to slow down as he watched the man’s finger move towards the trigger, a cold smile playing across his face. Just as his finger arrived at the trigger, he was tackled to the ground by Jack, who then promptly knocked him out with a swift right hook to the jaw, but not before a single shot was fired.

...

Mac’s mouth formed a small “o,” as the bullet tore into his body, not at the chest like it was intended, but in his right leg, right above his knee.

He fell to the ground as his leg gave out, and landed hard on the forest floor. For a few seconds, he was blissfully numb as his brain tried to catch up with what had just happened.

He was not so lucky for long.

First, there was a throbbing pain as the blood poured out of the wound, and then came the burning. A searing pain that felt as though his leg was on fire shot through his body, causing him to shudder. His breaths were coming in short gasps as he tried to look down to assess the damage.

Blood was pouring out of the bullet hole, and pooling on the leaf-covered ground. That was as far as he got in his examination, before Jack was kneeling next to him, gently pushing his shoulders back to the ground.

“Hey bud, you need to stay still for me okay?” he said, and then got his first real look at Mac’s injury.

“Oh Mac, that does not look good. I’m so sorry bud, if I had been a little quicker...”

He was cut off by Mac, “Not...your fault.” Mac was already starting to lose focus, and blood was still pouring out of the wound. He looked down again, “How bad?”

“Well, its not great...can’t see an exit wound, so the bullet is still in there. From the looks of things, your femur might be fractured too.”

Mac nodded, before closing his eyes tight as another shudder racked through him.

Jack seemed to have realized that he needed to stop the bleeding, so he was back kneeling next to Mac.

“Okay bud, this might hurt, but I need to try and slow the bleeding. Riley, what’s the ETA of exfil?”

That seemed to snap Riley out of her shock, and she pulled out her phone, while Jack started to push on Mac’s leg.

“Four minutes!”

Mac gasped as Jack pushed the bullet farther into his leg, causing it to put pressure on the already injured bone. Black spots were forming in his vision as his breaths got shorter, he was rapidly losing his battle to stay conscious.

“Sorry Mac, we can’t take the bullet out, and you’ve already lost enough blood as it is.”

“It’s...k” Mac said, his eyes fluttering.

“Come on bud, stay with me. You’re doing so well, just a few more minutes,” Jack said, in vain, as Mac’s eyes had finally closed and he fell unconscious, going limp in the dirt.

“Riley, how much longer?”

“Two minutes now,” Riley responded, looking nervously at the blonde between them.

Jack checked Mac’s pulse, and sighed in relief as he felt it, slower than normal, but there.

They both waited out the next two minutes in silence, and when exfil came, they moved out of the way as the medics lifted Mac’s prone form onto a stretcher, and got into the truck.

As the truck drove away, they were both thinking the same thing, why was it always Mac?

...

Thanks for reading!! I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow should be another creepy Murdoc fic, and I am working on a continuation of my first Murdoc fic, which should be done some time this week.

Thanks again, have a wonderful day!!

#MacGyver #macgyver whump #macgyver whump fanfiction #macgyver whump fanfic #fanfiction #mine #gunshot wound #leg wound #long tags #thanks for reading #angus macgyver whump #mac whump #jack dalton #riley davis #Angus MacGyver

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ginger-and-mint · 3 years ago

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Happy birthday Myx! 🥳🎂 Have Several questions because I Want To Know Things. ^^; Illness & Injury 6 for everyone, Whump 2 & 3 for everyone, and Writer's 2, 13, 19, and 46 for you!

thank you Mel! ♡ and oh my gosh I’m so delighted by this abundance of questions!

6. What is their go-to remedy for an upset stomach?

Kara and Bramley both like some warmth on unhappy tummy. They’ll make themselves tea, more for the warmth than anything else, and sip it while taking it easy. Kara is likely to get herself a little warm pack too if she can.

Malia tends to go straight for medicine or a tonic. She doesn’t like to be slowed down by her body, and so will opt for whatever she thinks will be most effective in the shortest amount of time.

Si, being a song-mage, was once surrounded by fellow song-mage friends they could ask to cast a stomach-settling healing spell on them. With that option off the table, they'll also look for a fast-acting medicine or tonic.

Grayson and Elliott both try to ignore an upset stomach for a little while in the hopes that it’ll settle. When that fails, Grayson will go get himself a tonic and complain to his friends until it kicks in, while Elliott will either try sitting quietly and sipping on water or tea, or if he can get away, just sleeping it off.

Ryder is knowledgeable enough to take a different approach depending on how upset his stomach is. For something minor, he’ll make himself a digestion-easing tea, like mint or chamomile. If he knows that won’t be effective, he’ll go straight to a tonic. When it’s something he’s eaten that’s not agreeing with him, sometimes he’ll just go make himself throw up to get it out of his system.

2. What is their pain tolerance? Do they close their eyes and block it out, or go into a full blown panic?

Grayson really hates tolerating pain, but if he has to, he can take a lot. Most of the time, he will remove himself from painful situations as quickly as possible and complain bitterly about anything that hurts. But if the chips were down, he would turn out to be a lot tougher than anyone expected.

Bramley is a Sweet Baby and We Do Not Harm Him is not really used to enduring pain and has a low tolerance for it. He would close his eyes and block it out rather than panicking, but not really be able to do anything except sit there and block pain until he was Helped. c’:

Kara is Pure Sunshine and We Do Not Harm Her Either has a pretty high tolerance for acute pain and doesn’t panic about injuries, but she has been known to get faint from them. She’s also easily worn down by chronic discomfort, like being too hot or cold or just having a constant dull ache of some kind.

Malia is the opposite. She can put up with low-key pain or discomfort for a long time, but an acute injury would freak her out a lot more than she’d like to admit.

Ryder has a high pain tolerance on all fronts, honestly. As soon as he feels pain, he looks for a solution to ease it, and if there are none to be had, he’ll grit his teeth and block it out.

Meanwhile, poor dear Si is not great with pain. Song-mages are primarily healers, and so Si is really used to having even little hurts soothed quickly and easily. They don’t panic when in pain, but they do get extremely miserable.

Elliott has a very high pain tolerance when the pain feels within his control; he can power through even the worst headaches or stomachaches, for example. But as soon as the pain feels out of his control (i.e. he gets injured), he panics.

3. How long do they typically take to recover from illness or injury compared to average?

Ryder and Kara, by virtue of Robustness and Being Sensible People who largely take care of themselves when under the weather, are quick to recover.

Grayson and Malia both heal quickly from injuries, but take a little longer with illnesses. With Grayson, it’s more a matter of him not being back to himself until his symptoms are completely gone (he is very much a Man Flu type of guy.) Meanwhile Malia will treat an injury with appropriate care, but is likely to push herself back to full capacity before she’s fully better from an illness, leading to a slower recovery.

As big and strong as Bramley is, he’s actually a little more delicate immune system-wise. He tends to be a slow recoverer, even though he’s good about looking after himself when sick or hurt.

Elliott and Si also tend to have slow and uneven recoveries, but in their cases, it’s due to hooliganery. Si takes good care of themself during the uncomfortable phase of their illness or injury, but as soon as they feel 90% better, they’re eager to leap back into life with their usual zeal. That’s not always a great idea and can lead to them prolonging whatever is afflicting them. Elliott, on the other hand, is just a stubborn idiot who doesn’t take care of himself. He’s particularly bad about this with injuries, often aggravating them and even making them worse because he won’t give them the rest they need to heal.

2. Are you a pantser or plotter?

Usually I lean more towards plotting, although I do leave a lot of room for the new directions and ideas I know I’ll discover during the process of writing itself. But Ginger and Mint is the big exception -- I started writing it with zero plan whatsoever. I do have an outline for it now, but I was probably eight or nine chapters in before I made it.

While the final product is definitely not as a polished as it would’ve been if I’d planned it from the start, it was honestly super refreshing to not worry and just write. I’ve been trying to bring a little of that experience over into my more serious writing -- it’s so easy to get caught up in plotting and forget to leave room for writing itself to be a generative process.

13. Describe your writing process from idea to polished

Have idea. Whee!

“Mark out” the things I want to happen in the story or chapter:

I usually do this by writing out short snippets of prose or dialogue related to the ideas I’ve had about each moment. For example, let’s say I know I want a moment where Grayson talks to Ryder. I’d type up a couple lines of dialogue and/or maybe a line about Grayson encountering Ryder and noting what he’s doing or how he’s looking -- whatever’s relevant to the scene. Basically, whatever ideas I have about that scene will be represented in writing in the “mark.”

I have all these marks ordered in the document in the same way the scenes will eventually be chronologically ordered. For me, having visual space is important for my ability to think, so I hit the enter key enough times between the marks that I can see only blank space when I want to work with a certain moment.

Build out each mark until I have a full scene. I do try to go roughly start to finish, but definitely jump back and forth depending on what I’m feeling most inspired by or what my brain seems to be spitting up ideas about. I also skip ahead whenever I feel stuck, which is both a blessing and a curse.

Go back and string the scenes together. Add transitions, fill in any missing pieces, etc.

Re-read the full thing from start to finish and make final edits. Yay, done!

19. How do you keep yourself motivated?

goooood question fam

I struggle with this as much as the next person (see: 2.5 year G&M hiatus). I haven’t discovered a foolproof method of motivation yet (pls advise if you have), but I do tend to feel inspired whenever something reminds me why I want to write this story. That could be thinking about a scene I’m really excited to share, re-reading a scene that reminds me why I enjoy portraying a certain character or environment -- anything along those lines.

46. Do you reread your own stories?

Yes, the ones that I like! Some things I’m not particularly proud of and don’t go back to very often, but re-reading pieces of writing I do like helps me feel motivated, inspired, and confident.

#thank you so much these were so FUN #asks #gnm asks #lessthanconventional #nausea #just the briefest mention

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organizechaoss · 4 years ago

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Fic Rec Friday!

I haven’t done one of these before so I’m not sure exactly the best way to do this. Anyway, these are all on ao3, complete, and I certainly enjoyed reading them when I did ;) I hope you will to!!! <3

Besides the first one, I picked sort of obscure, not to well-known fics, not sure if that was the right way to go. I don’t really have any rhyme or reason for picking these except that I enjoyed them. We’ll see how next week will go!

Only Love (Can Bring the Rain) by soft_october

+18,000 words

Rating T

We love a little royalty AU! This one is an adorable friends to lovers with Aziraphale being the youngest prince being heavily encouraged to marry off to another royal. Crowley is a little gardener boy who has unfortunately fallen in love with the young prince. He keeps planning to run away while Aziraphale is a clever bastard and tricks the whole castle into giving him exactly what he wants. I hope that wasn’t to much of a spoiler but is very good, I highly recommend.

Hold on for a Minute (or more) by fractalgeometry

+1,000 words

Rating G

They hug, basically that’s it. My little touch-starved heart couldn’t handle it when I first read it. It’s after the apocalypse and Crowley is worried about what’s to come next, if Aziraphale loves him... the usual angst. Then Aziraphale hugs the demon goodbye and the little serpent brain short circuits. Very cute, very good, just... yeah. It’s nice, short, and sweet.

A Demon’s Best Friend by LadyWallace

+5,000 words

Rating G

Who doesn’t love a big white fluffy dog that looks like Aziraphale? Crowley’s on a mission for hell when this dog starts to follow him and is adamant about not leaving (much to the demon’s distaste). Meanwhile the real Aziraphale is off in search for this dog to return to it’s owner. Crowley get’s badly injured on his mission and Aziraphale finds him unconscious with the dog protecting his body. Obviously there’s much healing and fluffy cuddles that ensue.

For the anon who asked for Crowley whump (I picked 3 but I can put more in next week):

Conceptualize by CloseToSomethingReal

Currently at +81,000 words

Rating E

This fic is about Crowley delivering the antichrist himself (in a female form) while trying to keep it a secret from Aziraphale and plan a way to stop the apocalypse from happening. It’s pretty brutal and leaves that gut punched feeling after every chapter (so far).

This is the only one NOT COMPLETE in this list, however the author has been updating it semi-regularly within these past months and I’m hopeful for a happy ending. Each chapter is like a knife to an already gaping wound (I’ve only gotten through 14 chapters before deciding to wait until it’s complete so I could binge it when it’s done). This is one of the non-con ones and EXTREMELY explicit. So watch the tags, this definitely isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

Repossession by dreamsofspike

+190,000 words

Rating M (though should probably be E honestly)

Basically Gabriel’s an asshole (as if we didn’t already know that, but it also doesn’t even BEGIN to cover his actions in this) and takes Crowley prisoner in heaven and tortures him. Aziraphale (if I remember correctly) is absolutely oblivious to all of this until Crowley tells him when he finally escapes. That’s all I will say on it but it’s really good ;)

If you have been in the fandom long, you might recognize this fic. This recommendation is mainly for the new fans or if you missed it when it came out. This is also one of the non-con ones... sorry. I haven’t read this one in a while (and I don’t think I ever actually finished it haha. It was coming out while I was reading it and the suspense killed me) however I do remember crying a lot.

Sanctuary by AEpixie7

+6,000 words

Rating M

Crowley flees Europe to the states at the absolute WRONG time (Pearl Harbor happens). A very powerful angel (angel of punishment) attacks him, pinning the blame of Pearl Harbor onto the demon. There’s a bit of a scrimmage and when Crowley is obviously not going to make it out alive he declares sanctuary (basically asks Aziraphale to save him). However the principality is still in Europe and coming to the demon’s aide would not look good for him and his loyalties to heaven.

If long fics aren’t for you than this one is shorter and very good. Not as widely known as the other ones (I don’t think) but is really good. I’ve reread it a few times.

[I do have more Crowley whump if you would like, I just didn’t want to overcrowd this post. I’ll post more next week]

If you have any asks or want to request something (fluff, classic fics, Aziraphale whump, angst, au’s) just let me know ;) I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to deliver, however I’ll try my best <3

#fic rec friday #Good Omens #Fanfic #fic rec #Ineffable Husbands #Aziraphale #Crowley #Crowley whump #orgchaos recs

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years ago

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Out of Action or Lessons to be Learnt

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @stupidbluegirl @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst

This Passage Contains Potentially: swearing, violence, blood, angst, whump, fluff and smutty content. Chapter-specific warning: This chapter contains mention of pregnancy symptoms such as morning sickness, and food cravings as well as mood swings

Summary: Kirby tries to survive the new developments in her life, Rod becoming slightly overprotective doesn't really help much.

Kirby's POV:

After the show on Sunday (24th June) Roddy decided to invite Orton and Schultz out to dinner with us.

"So you got your woman pregnant?"

"Yes, David. Why'd you ask?" I answered for Roddy

"When's it due?"

"Well, Schultzy," I had to do some calculations in my head, "Around the end of next Feb."

"So, Rod, Kirby, y'all got any ideas for names yet?" Orton quizzed

"I ain't got no names, you got any names, Kirbs?"

"I like the name 'Casey' it's a good, neutral name, y'know."

"Your woman's a quicker thinker than you, boy."

"Yeah, Rod, ya married a feisty one."

"As Kirby'll tell ya lads, it's a marriage of equals."

We finished our meals, paid and left, heading to the next show. Tuesday, Twenty-Sixth, Providence, Rhode Island. Then the next show, Wednesday, Twenty-Seventh, Columbus, Ohio. After the Wednesday show Rod and myself spent some time with Orndorff and Orton. Then the next show, Thursday, Twenty-Eighth, Rod was meant to do a show in Dayton, Ohio, without me but he no-showed.

"Rod, McMahon called, something about a show in Dayton?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell them I was looking after you."

"Roddy, I'm fine, you should've done the show."

"Kirbs, I care more about making sure ya alright than doing every show, I need to know that you're okay."

"Roderick. Would you listen to me?!"

"Kirby, don't you go telling me what to do!"

Rod had gotten right up into my face, soon he seemed to notice the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Kirby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Woah, Rod. Rod, it's alright, you're okay, Hon. Roddy, come here."

I pulled him into my arms, feeling him gently caress my stomach.

"Kirbs, d'ya think I'll make a good father?"

"Of course you'll make a good father, Rod."

The following day, the moment I woke up I had to rush to the bathroom and throw up, Rod rushed in after me, checking that I was alright and helping me clean myself off. We had to attend a show in Elizabeth, New Jersey the next day. The next show after that was Tuesday, the Second of July, Glen Falls, New York, after the show Rod asked me to come with him to a local bar to meet an 'old friend' of his, or in other words, Rod was asking me to keep him calm.

"Kirby, this is Greg 'The Hammer' Valentine. Greg, my beautiful wife, Kirby Piper."

"You're the gal I keep hearing about from people."

"Well, that depends on what you've heard."

"I heard that you were, or are, pregnant."

"That's true," Orton butted in, "Rod and I got told that on TV."

"Yeah, Piper's Pit, last month. I'm glad you found yourself a person who makes you happy, Rod."

"I, uh, I watched the matches you two had in Eighty-three."

"What did you think of them?"

"They're good, excellent even, though, the dog collar match. I can't watch that ever again."

"Why not?"

"Cause I worry about you, every time I watch it, Roddy."

The next show was Thursday, the fifth, in Hazelton, Pennsylvania. Jimmy Snuka and Roddy. I accompanied Rod to ringside, grabbing a seat at ringside. I had to run to the back about five minutes into the match. Rod rushed to the back after me, I could hear him getting counted out.

"Kirbs, Kirby, are you alright?"

"Rod, Rod, c'mere you idiot."

"Ya tired, Honey?"

I placed my forehead in the crook of his neck, "I'm exhausted right now."

"C'mon, I'll take ya back to the hotel and let ya rest."

Rod drove us back to the hotel and Orndorff stopped by with a new guy.

"Hi Paul."

"Hey, Kirbs, are you alright?"

"I'm better than earlier."

"She was non-stop apologising to me on the way here. Adrian, this is my wonderful wife, Kirby."

"Hi, you're, uhm, Dick Murdoch's tag partner?"

"Yeah, Adrian Adonis, nice to meet ya."

"Kirby Piper, pleasure to meet you too, Adrian. Rod?"

"Yes honey?"

"Can I slap Snuka?"

Rod let out a chuckle, "If you want to, hon. It would make my day."

Orndorff and Adonis shared a knowing look before Paul spoke up.

"Why do you two want to attack Snuka?"

"Because he's a dickhead." I stated flatly before covering my mouth in shock, "I didn't mean to say that."

"Why not, you're right. If he hurts or threatens you, he's dead meat, honey."

"Rod, don't. You can't be in your children's life if you're locked away in prison."

"Children, plural?"

"We all know that this child ain't gonna be the last." Adrian added

"True. Thank you Adrian."

"So, what was your reaction to the pregnancy, Kirby?"

"Uhm, well, if I'm honest with you, Adrian, at first I couldn't believe it. I think my first words were 'oh no'."

"Your first reaction was 'Oh no'?" Rod stated, sounding slightly hurt

"Rod, I wrestle for a living. Pregnancy lasts between eight and ten months. That means I'm out for a long while."

"Alright. Alright."

"I love you, Roddy."

After Orndorff and Adonis left Rod changed his focus back to me.

"C'mere you," He pulled me towards him, chest to chest, before kissing me roughly and backing me towards the bed, "You sexy goliath."

"You are such a hot head, Roderick."

"You married me though, didn't ya." He hoisted my leg, pressing his groin into mine.

"As if I'd turn you down, my love."

On Saturday (the seventh) I was at ringside, watching Roddy lose by DQ, the moment Rod left the ring he walked over to me, pulling me to my feet only to dip me into a kiss.

After the show we went back to the hotel with Valentine, Adonis and Orndorff.

Me and Paul were in the hotel room just chatting away when we heard a crash from the hallway, followed by several smaller crashes and then a banging at the door.

Greg threw the door open and Paul helped get Adrian and Roddy inside.

"What the fuck happened?"

The room went silent and Greg went to get help as me and Paul watched over Adrian and Roddy.

"Roddy."

No response. I took my shirt off (a plain white T-shirt, which would not be white for much longer) and used it to try and stem the bleeding from the cut on his outer thigh.

"Rod."

He groaned in a pained response

"Roderick, talk to me."

We spent the night in the hospital, Rod needed stitches to the wound on his thigh and Adrian needed stitches to the wound on his right pectoral, Adrian would be in the hospital for two days at the least and both would be back in action by Friday.

Jesse came to visit and Rod introduced him to me and vice versa, introducing me as 'My beloved wife, the mother of my unborn child and the woman who saved my life, twice.'

While Rod slept off the pain in his leg, Jesse raised some questions to me.

"Did you see him get hurt?"

"No, Jesse, I saw the injury after Valentine dropped him on the bed."

"How long have you two been together?"

"We've known each other since January, Schultz introduced us. We started dating each other at the end of January, from the twentieth. Got married on the first of June, not too long after that, he got me pregnant."

"This is the, second, time."

"Second time for what?"

"Roddy being injured."

"Yeah, same leg too."

"Some fans are fucking insane."

"I'm just glad they haven't gone after me, Rod would lose his mind if anything happened to me, or the baby."

"You should hear him in the locker room."

"He's always talking about me?"

"Always, usually to Adonis. Those two are usually stuck to each other by the hip. If he's not with Adonis, he's with Orton, or Schultz, or Orndorff, or Valentine, or even me."

"He constantly talks about me?"

"Either you, or more recently, the baby."

"He's the kindest, most respectful man, I've ever met, Jesse."

"Thank you, baby." Rod mumbled out.

"Roddy," I jumped slightly, rushing from Jesse's side to sit next to Rod on the hospital bed, "Are you alright, my love."

"C'mere," Rod pulled me in, lazily and sloppily kissing me on the lips.

"I, uh, I got you guys this," Jesse handed Roddy a book, "I know it's early, but you can never be too prepared y'know."

After Roddy was released from the hospital, we decided to spend the night alone.

"Roddy, I, good God I don't want this to come off as if I'm scared. Rod, I don't want to let you out of my sight."

"Kirbs, come here," He pulled me into a hug, "If I never let you outta my sight, then ya never have to let me out of your sight."

We slept and I got up earlier than Rod, I did my morning routine before deciding to flick through the parenting book that Jesse gave us.

Around half an hour later I finished going through the book and heard Rod yawn and the hotel bed creak under his weight.

"Morning."

"What a beautiful sight to wake up to."

"Roderick, you charmer. How's the leg, my love?"

"Slowly getting better. Kirbs?"

"Uh huh?"

"Damien said that, your Da, called him, as in Damien. We need to go to our place and pick some stuff up that your Mam and Da sent over."

"If we leave after you get dressed, we can get home, spend Tuesday and Wednesday there and then drive to the show on Thursday so we can be there for Friday."

"I love how your brain works."

"I love you too, Rod."

By the time we got back to the house it had actually taken us around a day and a half, we reached the house, got what mail had accumulated and left for the show in Chicago, getting to a hotel on Thursday night.

I had separated the mail into four stacks, bills, family mail, fan letters, and unsorted as of yet.

"Bills, fan letter, fan letter, somethin' from my family, fan letter, fan letter, family mail, bill."

"Kirbs?"

"Cannae talk right now, Rod. Family mail, fan letter, fan letter, fan letter, family mail."

"Kirby?"

"Cannae talk right now, Roddy. Bill, Bill, fan letter, bill, family mail, fan letter, fan letter."

"Kirby, my love, Kirby?"

"I Can nae talk right now Roderick. Fan letter, Fa-"

Rod cut me off by grabbing my face and kissing me roughly.

"Kirby, you can go through that later, right now, ya need ta sleep, baby."

While Rod was doing the show, I stayed at the hotel, and went through all the mail. I ended up going to a local supermarket and an ATM in order to pay the bills, sending money off to each company and opening my fan letters, many of which were actually hate mail, ignoring the hatred of both me and my husband, I opened some of the mail my family had sent, most of which were small boxes of my things or wedding presents.

Rod walked in with Jesse and Adrian close behind him.

"Oh, there's ma beautiful wife."

"Did ya win, love?"

"Double disqualification."

"Oh, Hon."

"No, it's fine. What's in the mail babe?"

"I've dealt with the bills, uhm, wedding gifts from my family, some of my old stuff from my younger years. I've put most of it in the back of the D200. I haven't opened your fan mail."

"Kirby?"

"Yes, Adrian."

"How's the baby?"

"The baby's fine. How are you guys doing?"

"We're good, Kirbs" Jesse stated, rather matter-of-factly.

We spent around an hour hanging out with Jesse and Adrian before Jesse departed, Adrian stayed with me while Rod went out to get the boys some beer.

"So, Roddy's good to you?"

"Yeah, He's the best man I've ever had in my life. He's not possessive, he's rather protective, especially when he's jealous, he tries his hardest to make sure I'm happy and the baby's okay."

"You know, he's my best friend, right?"

"I suspected that you two were close after seeing you guys stick around each other at a couple shows."

The door swung open and Rod placed an ice cold beer against Adrian's neck.

"Hey, hey. stop that man."

"Boys, don't fight, especially when there's a pregnant woman nearby."

"I'm sorry baby, c'mere."

Rod put the rest of the six pack on the floor and walked over to me, kissing me gently on the forehead and then on the lips, several times, getting needier every time and deepening the kiss, backing me up until he could straddle my lap before realising what he was doing.

"Sorry about that, Adrian. I got a bit carried away. She is the most attractive woman I've ever met."

"Nah, don't worry about it, you two are married. You should show that you love each other, you've got a kid on the way and before ya know it, you'll be parents. Ya kids have gotta know that ya love each other, and that love is meant to be shown, ya know."

END OF OUT OF ACTION or LESSONS TO BE LEARNT

#wrestling fic #Lucifarians

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

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day 18: panic attacks

prompt from: whumptober pairing: felix x ace notes: fluffy angst, idk if this even qualifies as whump but it’s what i went with <3 warnings: panic attack descriptions word count: 1920

Ace is having a rather good day, all things considered. He finishes his second generator of the trial while Feng is still doing a phenomenal job at being chased by the killer, and he even has time to stop and search a chest in good conscience.

He picks up a broken key with a worn brass token, which isn’t ideal but he’ll add it to his ever growing pile of junk back at camp anyway.

In the time it takes him to find a generator, the Nurse has finally managed to down and hook Feng, but someone saves her right after and the chase beings anew. Ace would guess the rescuer was David and that he used borrowed time to make sure the gamer made it out, since he can’t see Felix being stupid bold enough to unhook in the killer’s face like that.

With the Nurse’s distant screeches providing some pleasant background noise—considering it’s not Ace she’s chasing—he gets to work on a nearly completed generator by one of the exits. If he finishes it before the killer comes to check, it marks their fourth completed objective of the trial, and it looks like they’ll have an easy escape provided she doesn’t have the obnoxious totem perk to ensure an instant down after the gates are powered.

At first, Ace doesn’t question why someone would have abandoned the nearly completed machine, but just before he connects the last two wires, he hesitates. Will this be the last generator on this side of the map? Maybe someone wanted to leave it because it’s by an exit?

He gets up to look around a bit, trying to spot any other nearby generators, but then he hears it.

A sob.

Ace frowns in worry and keeps looking around, not seeing any signs of life. Did he imagine it? Feng is the only one injured, and her moans of pain can be heard from halfway across the map. The girl is a lot of things, but quiet sure as hell isn’t one of them.

He remembers the key in his pocket, a normally useless item with an underwhelming add-on that will allow him to see his nearby teammates for only a couple of seconds. But right now, it’s exactly what he needs, and as he channels the item, he eventually makes out a human form cowering in the corner next to the exit gate.

The key’s power dies out but Ace doesn’t care, carefully approaching his distressed teammate.

He should have guessed who he’s going to find just by basic deduction, as Feng is still keeping the Nurse busy somewhere in the Asylum and David is one to push forward through sheer stubbornness. It still takes him by surprise to notice Felix, normally so calm and collected, huddled in on himself with his knees drawn close to his chest and his head buried in his hands.

Ace suddenly feels very out of place, and he realizes he could just slowly back away and Felix probably wouldn’t even know he was ever there.

But Felix doesn’t seem to be just taking a mental break from the trial, he looks to be struggling. His entire body is trembling and he’s taking sharp, wheezy breaths, bordering on hyperventilating.

And Ace might not be the best at offering comfort, but he sure as hell is going to try.

“Hey,” he offers softly as not to spook Felix, but from the way Felix’s head snaps up in surprise, he’s not successful. Shit, he’s never seen the guy so upset, looking utterly broken with tears and snot running down his face and taking short, shaky breaths. It make’s Ace’s cold, selfish heart clench in sympathy and he slowly kneels down on Felix’s level, far enough away to hopefully not feel like he’s cornering him. “How you holding up?”

That’s probably the dumbest thing he could have asked, but at least it makes Felix react, quickly wiping at his face and averting his eyes.

“F-fine, sorry—” Felix starts, but then his trembling voice breaks on another sob and he hides his face behind his hand in shame as another wave of what Ace assumes to be a panic attack hits.

Ace has never been good at dealing with emotions, his or others’, but he’s learned a lot after being swept up by the Entity and trying to keep everyone in their little group happy and healthy. He knows that Dwight needs to be held when his anxiety surfaces, and although that position is usually reserved for Jake, Ace has been the body for Dwight to cling to on a few occasions when others were unavailable. On the other hand, when something triggers Quentin’s PTSD, the boy wants nothing more than to be left alone, and even the smallest touch will send him spiraling deeper into his own head.

“It’s alright,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice calm and even offering an encouraging smile. “We’ve all been there.”

That seems to calm Felix down some, so Ace optimistically deduces that maybe his presence does help after all.

This is a vastly different situation from Dwight or Quentin, though. Where Ace mostly sees himself as a somewhat shitty parental figure to the boys, he’s been openly flirting with Felix ever since the other got here. And despite Felix sometimes awkwardly flirting back, he fully expected their relationship to stay at the casual friendship level.

But this is huge step, and if Ace manages to comfort him without hiding behind shitty jokes and Felix allows himself to be vulnerable, maybe that’s a sign they could eventually be something more.

“Just say the word and I’ll be on my way,” Ace starts. “But I also have a pretty good shoulder to lean on, if that’s something you think might help.”

Felix glances at him and Ace tries to keep the smile on his face despite his own nerves surfacing and mixing with the worry for Felix already there.

“Are you sure?” Felix asks, voice nowhere near steady but at least being able to form a complete sentence.

“Of course!” Ace reassures without even knowing which option Felix is referring to.

And then Felix looks back at the ground and curls in on himself further and Ace tries not to be disappointed. He’s already moving to get up, an apology ready on his tongue, when Felix shuffles along the exit gate wall to make room for Ace to join him.

The grin that forms on his face might not be the most appropriate considering the circumstances, but Felix doesn’t protest, in fact he immediately buries his face against Ace’s shoulder and clasps his arm in a death grip as soon as he takes a seat next to him.

Felix takes shallow breaths against him and Ace doesn’t care that his shirt is getting stained with wet tears and snot, suddenly hit with how intimate the entire situation is. His own nerves resurface and his free hand hovers awkwardly in the air, not sure if it’s appropriate to touch the distressed man.

But in the end, he’s a gambler, and so he gambles, placing a hesitant hand in Felix’s hair as he remembers the other is usually messing with it when he’s nervous.

When the only reaction he gets is Felix gripping his arm tighter, he carefully starts running his hand through the locks, slightly disheveled from where Felix has no doubt been doing the same.

“It’s okay,” Ace says, trying to keep his voice steady and hoping Felix can’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. “You’re okay.”

“I’m going to get crows,” Felix chokes out through the tears.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace reassures, discreetly looking up to try to spot the birds that should already be circling above Felix’s head. “Feng and David are keeping her busy. She’s got no reason to come here.”

Ace frowns as he realizes can neither see nor hear the Entity’s spies, despite knowing their captor’s rules clearly state the birds should be giving away their location by now.

The key sits heavy in his pocket and he suddenly realizes maybe the Entity wanted him to find Felix. Regardless of how Ace feels about the otherworldly being, he knows it’s not satisfied unless the trial has been what it considers “fair”. Maybe it’s giving them a time-out until Felix is in shape to continue, and maybe that’s why Feng still hasn’t been caught, despite being injured against one of the strongest killers.

“Seems like the crows are on their lunch break,” Ace voices his observation in hopes of reassuring Felix. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Not surprisingly, the knowledge that he’s not on a time limit seems to calm Felix down some, and the grip on Ace’s arm loosens as the sharp breaths slowly turn into more deliberate ones.

“That’s it, deep breaths,” Ace murmurs and keeps petting Felix’s hair since it seems to be working, or at least not making the situation worse. “You’re going to be fine.”

He has no idea how long they sit there together, with Felix slowly coming back to himself and Ace offering generic encouraging sentiments he hopes are somewhat helpful, lost in their own little bubble while the trial carries on without them.

When Felix eventually pulls away, Ace feels disappointed, even if he finally gets some much needed blood flow to his arm that has fallen asleep a while ago.

“Fuck,” Felix sighs and leans his head back against the tiled wall with a dull ‘thud’. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not,” Ace offers with a small grin. “But I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I didn’t expect one in the middle of a trial,” Felix says, letting Ace is on the fact that this wasn’t a one-off. “Thank you. You, um, helped. A lot,” Felix says bashfully, and Ace has to resist the urge to pull him back into his arms.

“Don’t mention it,” he says instead, and when Felix just gives him an adorable, tiny smile, can’t resist adding a cheeky “There’s a lot worse ways to spend a trial”.

“I’d say being a liability and making a complete fool of myself isn’t something I’m eager to repeat,” Felix mutters, but he’s still smiling, so Ace hopes he’s not still embarrassed.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t make the situation worse,�� Ace jokes. “Or that my brain didn’t implode on itself from not making jokes or flirting for five minutes.”

“You were perfect,” Felix says so earnestly it takes Ace completely off guard, and he’s not blushing he’s just suddenly really warm okay— “I should get back to my generator,” Felix seems to remember, looking over Ace’s shoulder in the direction of the machine. “I’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time for today.”

“If there’s anything we have plenty of, it’s time,” Ace reassures, pushing himself off of the wall and ready to join the trial.

He offers a hand to help Felix up, and it makes him smile when Felix only hesitates for a split second before accepting the gesture.

“You know, we should do this more often,” Ace says with a grin as he pulls Felix up on his feet. “I mean, preferably without the panicking. I didn’t mind but it didn’t exactly look like you were having the time of your life.”

Felix huffs out a small laugh at the statement, and then he squeezes Ace’s hand that’s still clasped in his.

“I’d like that.”

#whumptober2020 #no.18 #panic attacks #dead by daylight #fic #riconti #dweetwrites #ace visconti #felix richter #dbd #prompt #felix x ace #dbd fanfic #mental illness cw

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hawkland · 4 years ago

Text

Dear Fandom5k Author

My AO3 account (sidewinder)

Hello and thank you for writing for me! I’m excited to give this exchange a try for the first time and cannot wait to read what you can come up with for one of my requests. Please note I’d love any of them equally, no matter if I have more prompt ideas for one or the other. Some I seriously would love just about anything about since they are so rare, others I have more specific requests to scratch itches I haven’t seen written before (or that much.)

General Likes:

Soumates with a twist. I love soulmate/soulbond AUs, as long as it’s just not a shortcut to happily-ever, no-conflict fluff. I want there to be some difficulties or angst involved. For instance, I’d love seeing any fusion/inspired-by fics based off the concept of the AMC Soumates series - where there’s a newly-developed scientific test a person can choose to take to find their soulmate (if the other person out there has also taken the test). That way it’s a choice to find out or not. Would an already established couple want to take the test to find out if they’re really “meant” to be together or not? What if they find out other people are their “soulmates”? What about the possibility of platonic soulmates vs romantic? Discussions for the future if/when one partner dies before the other? I’d love to see these questions played out with one of my fave ships in either a happy or somewhat angsty/dark way.

Vacation/travel stories. Being unable to travel this past year+ thanks to covid-19 has me desperate to explore and live vicariously through my favorite characters! So I’d love a story involving travel to somewhere new (to them). It could be a romantic getaway/honeymoon trip to somewhere special - and I love it when an author “takes me” to a favorite city/place of their own. Or two friends just going on an escapade together, maybe one sensing the other needs some time away from a stressful situation or workplace.

Smutty likes: I love extended kissing scenes, frottage, light restraint play, sharing-one-bed-for-~reasons~-ooops-how-did-we-wake-up-cuddling, bathing/caretaking an injured partner-turns-erotic, desperate/reunion sex.

Canon-divergent AUs - I’m always good with fix-its, shifts in canon that only change one thing and see what happens next or instead.

Do Not Wants:

A/B/O dynamics, mating heats. (I do like Supernatural fics that explore Castiel and the angels having bird-like behaviors and instincts, however.)

animal abuse/death

anything related to pregnancy/childbirth/kidfic (except for Jack in SPN)

formalized BDSM relationships

scat/watersports

unrequested alternative-universe scenarios such as high school/mundane/genderswap/coffee shop/fantasy/etc. There are a few ships/groups where I would enjoy specific AUs, and those are outlined below.

Completely sad endings/permanent character death or injury that isn’t part of canon

Rape/non-con between requested characters. Dubious consent is fine in situations like magic spells/possession/fuck-or-die, however.

Supernatural

AU - Canon Divergence, Character Development, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Fix-it fic, Interpersonal Drama, Smut, Angst, Canon-Style Plot - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery/Procedural, Slice of Life, Worldbuilding, Horror

In general for SPN, I love canon-divergence AUs at pretty much any point in time (especially as they kept having so many dumb reasons in canon to keep Dean & Cas apart just when one or the other seriously needed support or TLC!) I’m okay with post-series Heaven fics as well as canon fix-its/completely ignoring the finale, and I like exploring both human!Cas as endgame or Cas keeping/getting his full angelic grace back (which is a slight preference to me, as he repeatedly seemed to genuinely value/want to be an angel? But exploring all possibilities in fic is cool for me.)

I’m a sucker for Castiel Whump/hurt!Cas in general, so long as the author remembers Cas is a bad ass and not just a baby in a trenchcoat. If he’s going to suffer, I want him to suffer stoically until he just cannot keep up the facade any longer.

SPN-specific DNWs: mentions/implications of Wincest, past or present; extreme bashing/characterization of John and Mary Winchester, or Jimmy Nowak, as homophobic.

Group: Castiel/Dean Winchester Group: Castiel/Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Give me all the finale fix-it fics - no I’m still not over it, I’m still happy to read any new twist on how Cas got out of the Empty and got back together with Dean (and Sam). If Dean still dies early/ends up in Heaven, I’d like a story that explores what happens when one gets bored of peace-and-happiness-ever-after. (Yes, I’m a big fan of The Good Place and as such it makes me wonder if eternity with no conflict and everything you could ever want would just melt your brain and identity after a few millennia.) So what then?

I’m also stealing a Tumblr rant as a prompt I’d love to read, if you want to get into some good dirty smut:

ive had it up to here with fictional gays being like “i love you and if all i can ever have is that knowledge it’s enough for me” we need more “i have been struck down by horny insanity and i beg you to fuck me once. i’ve had three smirnoff ices and i’m gonna be crazy now. we can pretend it didn’t happen i don’t give a shit just gimme daddy’s blunt instrument” it’s more realistic [x]

Um so yeah. I’d love an au where, anywhere along the line when it’s been their/someone’s/the universe’s life on the life, Cas takes the initiative decides they’re gonna have crazy sex even if it’s just once before the end of the world/we die. But then, oops, we’ve survived, now we have to deal with it. ...Please?

For something different, maybe more romantic/fluffy, I’d really love a vacation/getaway story here, since they never really got anything like that of substance on the show. I want to see Cas take Dean somewhere beautiful and amazing in the world he’s never gotten to see before. Show him there’s more than just greasy diners and the landscape of America to enjoy and experience. If you want, they could stumble on a case/haunting/monster from another part of the world while they’re at it...but I just really want to see Dean having some mind-opening and expanding experiences beyond what’s he’s known and seen so far in life.

In specific with Cas/Dean + Sam, I love another tumblr idea I saw recently where Sam totally keeps bringing up the idea of “Sastiel” as a fun joke between him and Cas, and Cas plays along, and it drives Dean up the wall. Cas has to just keep re-assuring Dean that no, he doesn’t see Sam that way...but why does it bother Dean so much? A.k.a. Dean has to finally own up to the fact that it bothers him because he wants Cas to feel that way about him.

Castiel (Supernatural)

I just love Cas, period, end of story, he’s my One True Character of SPN. I love any stories that try to explore him more fully—be it his relationships in the past with other angels and being a BAMF commander/warrior of Heaven, or what specifically it is that keeps him so tied to the Winchesters. I love stories that feature his true-form in some fashion or try to dig into the alien/different nature of angels vs. humans.

Also, another Tumblr-musing-turned-prompt (I lost who posted it, sorry!) I'd love to see explored in a canon divergence fic focused on Cas. Specifically:

"I would have loved an arc for Cas (after he got his grace back) where he wanted to help people, like he was helped. Spending time in soup kitchens or healing people, and through that developing a sense of self purpose, leading to his grace replenishing unexpectedly. Sort of fulfilling the traditional angel role (as we know it nowadays) by replacing his faith in heaven/dean with faith in himself, to redefine himself as a protector of humanity instead of heaven's soldier."

Group: Castiel/Dean Winchester & Jimmy Novak Group: Castiel & Jimmy Novak

We know Cas carried a lot of guilt for what happened to Jimmy and his whole family. So I'm interested in a post-finale, canon-compliant (I guess?) fic where Cas tries to reconcile things with Jimmy in Heaven. Maybe Jimmy & Amelia were one of his first "projects" or test cases in trying to build a new and better Heaven with Jack? (And it's what he was so busy with while Dean was still alive.) Or, is it weird in Heaven with Cas and Jimmy looking so similar? Does Cas still fight doubts as to whether Dean really loves him, or just desires this body/form that isn’t his own?

Otherwise, I've been thinking about Endverse!Cas, who had lost his grace/powers as the angels have all left and abandoned humankind. What happened to/where is Jimmy in all of that? (If we go by the canon that Jimmy was not killed, nor went to Heaven, until the end of Season 5, when Lucifer blew up that vessel and Cas was resurrected by Chuck.) Are they now two "mortal men"/souls trapped sharing one body? Is that why Cas is so messed up/always seeking an escape through drugs and sex? (Besides of course Dean having changed so much.) This is one prompt where I don’t mind a very dark/not-so-happily-ever-after ending.

The Police

Angst, Character Development, Established Relationship, Getting Together, Humor, Interpersonal Drama, Smut

Group: Sting/Stewart Copeland

Yeah I’ll always request these two together even though I know it’s a long shot to find anyone else as obsessed about them as I am. Really anything at all whatsoever would make me happy for this ship: Reunion Tour-era fic, early punk days before they grew successful, soulmate AUs...

I’d also love a spooky story where they’re on tour/on the road somewhere and end up in a haunted hotel. Or their tour bus/van breaks down in the middle of nowhere and they have to seek shelter in an abandoned house or farm or something...and supernatural weirdness ends up affecting them or bringing them together.

If you want to go the crack route: it wasn’t enough for Miles to take them all around the world to tour in “exotic” locations back in the day. He’s arranged for them now to go on the ultimate tour...of outer space and alien worlds.

Crossover Fandom

Action/Adventure, Character Development, Interpersonal Drama, Angst, Canon-Style Plot - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery/Procedural

Group: Abe Morgan (Forever TV) & John Munch (L&O: SVU)

I’ve had a long running headcanon that these two could have been friends back in their respective 60s/early 70s hippie days. I’d love either a story set back then, “pre-canon”, or them running into each other in NYC later in life. Munch ending up in Abe’s antique shop, for instance, while on an investigation?

Group: Dean Winchester (Supernatural) & Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone) Group: Castiel (Supernatural) & Ezekiel Stone (Brimstone)

I’m fascinated by the idea of crossing over these two canons. Even if there’s some conflict in their approach to Hell/Lucifer/demons, there’s still a lot in common. Dean & Ezekiel having both put in their time in Hell and being demon hunters, for instance, and their complicated relationships with (fallen) angels. I’d love to see them bonding over their experiences (Maybe they even meet in Hell? Time DOES work differently there…) Maybe somehow after Ezekiel completed his mission for the Devil, he did get his second chance at “life on Earth”…but the devil’s trick is that it’s not HIS Earth, it’s in a different dimension (Supernatural’s). I’m also curious how Ezekiel might respond to Castiel as an angel–perhaps he mistakes Cas for a demon at first, with his powers, but then they realize they are in fact hunting the same demon? Cas is stuck in an alternative dimension and recognizes Ezekiel as a similar soul to Dean’s, and seeks out his help?

Basically I’d love some kind of casefic/demon hunt here, with the characters bonding over their shared/similar past traumas, taking care of each other when/if injured on a hunt, and/or perhaps helping them sort out their complicated feelings for another (ie, background Cas/Dean and/or Zeke/the Devil are TOTALLY welcome here, as I ship both of those ships.)

Law & Order: SVU

Group: John Munch/Odafin "Fin" Tutuola

Character Development, Established Relationship, Humor, Getting Together, Interpersonal Drama, Canon-Style Plot - Freeform, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery/Procedural, Slice of Life, AU-Genre shift

Munch/Fin is one of my eternal OTPs so I’m always happy to see something new featuring them! I’m always good for procedural/case-fics. And this is one request where I’d love to read some AU-Genre or setting shift, reimagining the two in some other situations besides police work. I’ve always loved the idea of John hosting a conspiracy/weird news radio show or podcast, and Fin as someone completely skeptical but who gets wrapped up in one of John’s mysteries. Or John as the owner of a bar somewhere that Fin is one of his regulars, and over time their friendship develops/deepens into something more.

Supernatural RPF

Misha Collins/Jensen Ackles Established Relationship, Getting Together, Smut, Fluff, Slice of Life, Humor

It’s odd for me to be into an actor RPF fandom (I usually only fall for music/band-related ones), but what can I say...these two just make it almost impossible not to see the possibilities!

I was thinking I’d love something set post-Supernatural...their first time seeing each other again after a long time apart? (What with the show ending, covid, Misha’s surgery, etc etc.) Could be at a convention or maybe they get to go off on a getaway together somewhere private/romantic and it’s...kind of tense and maybe nervous/angsty at first? Like with doubts about whether they can/should go back to the way things were before.

Or: putting tin-hatty speculation about the “secret/real identity” of Alma Perpetua aside, I love their poetry and I’d love any “Cockles” fic using one of their poems as inspiration.

#fandom5k #dear author #exchange letter

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