#minor injury | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pricklenettle · 5 months

Text

Parent's Ghost

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine

The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?

WC: 4,795

AO3 link

_______

Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.

He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him.

He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework.

Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet.

Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up.

It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch.

The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back.

“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light.

Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters.

“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes.

He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”

“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”

Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”

Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”

“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun.

“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.

Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”

“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”

Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust.

“No good, Mad’s?”

Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”

“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”

“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire.

Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder.

Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground.

Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air.

Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring.

He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight.

The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves.

Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.

“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim.

Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper.

Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord.

Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air.

He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.

***

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball.

He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.

The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance.

Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?

Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that.

There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed.

He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green.

Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.

***

The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm.

Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care.

He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.

***

He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.

Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes.

“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.”

Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages.

“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”

The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.

When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up.

Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose.

Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight.

The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off.

Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?

He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.

The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm.

The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened.

***

He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again.

He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water.

Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done.

He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.

After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it.

Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet.

“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.

The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.

The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away.

The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him.

The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.

They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.

Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.

All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.

***

Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.

They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for.

They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.

If only he could figure out the problem.

Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be.

Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.

Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall.

Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”

And then they left as carefully as they had come.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fic #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #ectoimplosion2023 #my writing #hurt/comfort #minor injury #minor electricution #fluff #blob ghosts

229 notes · View notes

steviewashere · 2 months

Text

Soothed

Rating: General CW: Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Minor Discussion of Bullying Tags: Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Hurt Eddie Munson, Injured Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Takes Care of Eddie Munson, Protective Steve Harrington, Worried Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, And Gets One

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is a warm hug."

💕—————💕

There was a knock at Steve’s front door.

Which is unusual to him. If somebody from the group—teenagers, adults, and preteens alike—then they’d use the spare key in the potted flower on the porch. Just barge right in, announce themself in the foyer, and let Steve find them first. They were told to be respectful, so that’s the least thing they can do.

But a knock? Unheard of. Steve pauses the movie he’s watching in the living room, stands from the couch, pops his back, and shuffles over to the front door. He turns the lock, twists the knob, and pulls the door from its jamb. On his porch: sopping wet, shivering, and down right miserable…is Eddie.

It’s late May, which means spring is in full swing. Which also means that there’s been forecasted rain. And, for some odd reason, Eddie hasn’t taken note of that. At least, that’s what Steve can gather.

Eddie’s hunched into himself. Hands gripping to his elbows. Dressed in a plain grey t-shirt and dark blue Levis, the same Reeboks he always wears. His hair, which was shaved back in March for surgery, is flat to his skull, frizzy from the rain. But, what scares Steve the most, is the dark purple bruise cupping a terribly swollen left eye. The eyeball itself is glazed over and bloodshot. His bottom lip is slightly puffy, sluggishly bleeding down his chin. And his nose, well Steve doesn’t think it’s broken, but it definitely is bloody, too. If the oddball patch below his right nostril has anything to say about it.

Steve moves to drag Eddie inside, but drops his hands when Eddie flinches away, nearly stumbling down to the concrete. He lets go of his elbows, which are now decorated with fine small crescents, and shields himself. There’s a couple smaller, red bruises decorating his wrists. As if somebody grabbed him. Steve fumes at the sight.

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, “why don’t you come inside?” He steps away from the door, letting it sit open and waiting. On shuffled, hesitant feet, Eddie comes in. His eyes dart around the room before they land back on Steve. Immediately, some of the tension and fear in his big brown eyes falls away. Instead, a layer of relief and gratitude seems to fill him. Enough that his eyes brim with tears. “Oh, Eds,” Steve can only coo.

Sniffling, mumbling, “They hurt me so bad,” Eddie says. He’s shivering. Whether that be from the cold or anxiety that’s surely swimming in Eddie’s stomach, Steve can’t tell. He inhales a wet gasp. Almost choking with it. “I just—I was trying to help this girl—And then they screamed at me and they—They hurt me,” he sobs. One of his hands flies up to his face, roughly wiping away the tears that try to travel down his cheeks. He presses too hard on his bruise and hisses.

“Okay, Eddie,” Steve mutters, “you’re safe here. It’s okay. They can’t get you here.” He doesn’t know who They is. But whoever they are, Steve knows he can rely on old reliable to do a good job. (Old reliable sits at the back of his closet, still crusted with blood, more nails than wood at this point). He hesitantly steps closer, palm out, ushering for Eddie to follow him to the downstairs master bathroom. There’s a part of him that hates treating Eddie like he’s a spooked little animal, defenseless and wrecked on the side of the road, one that’s been hit by a car, one that’s too afraid to realize they’ll live. But, what else is he supposed to do? Getting too close in his space seems to make Eddie freak, which is the last thing Steve wants.

Without any other words, just some wet sobs and aching cries that crumble Steve’s heart, Eddie follows on his heels. Head down to the floor, arms loose at his sides, his fingers flexing as if to press into the soft flesh of his palm. He settles over the closed toilet seat while Steve rummages through the cabinets, coming out successful with a red first aid bag in his hands. It’s heavy between his palms, overstocked and readily loaded for any and all emergencies. This feels like something detrimental, Steve hates how he’s shaking, too.

He grabs necessary first aid. Just a little bit of rubbing alcohol to get the dried blood off of Eddie’s skin, a half used tube of Neosporin, and a wad of toilet paper to hold to the wound. His nose seems to have stopped bleeding many minutes ago, so Steve’s not worried about that needing to be plugged up. But he still stands in front of Eddie—Well, actually, he crouches down onto the tiled flooring. Hard on his knees, but that puts him at eye level with the poor guy. He sets out his supplies on the lip of the bathtub, just to his right. And sets his palms softly on Eddie’s knees. He’s shaking there, too.

“Alright, Eds, tell me where it hurts. I gotta make sure you don’t have anything broken or anything that requires stitches, that’s all,” he coaxes.

Instead of speaking, Eddie displays his wrists. Turning them slowly so that Steve can see every dark splotching of bruises. He points to his eye, which was all too obvious to Steve. At his lip. The bridge of his nose. And then, he splays his left hand over his heart. Bunching the fabric of his t-shirt there. His eyes are mournful, still at the floor, not exactly looking at Steve. More like he’s looking through the floor. There are tears cascading down his face. His skin a blotchy, red and white mess, puffy from injuries and emotion.

Steve sets his own right hand over Eddie’s left. “Your heart hurts?” He asks, thumb swiping over his soft cotton shirt. “What did they do to your chest, Eds?”

Eddie shrugs and shakes his head. “They didn’t—Nothing physical.”

“Oh.” Oh. “Eddie,” Steve breathes. His own eyes are burning.

Eddie’s shoulders shake with the onslaught of new sobs and tears. But he reigns himself in quickly. His eyes finding Steve’s in a dizzyingly fast twitch. “Please help me, Steve,” he quietly pleads. “I’ll tell you, but I—I can’t—“

Steve hushes him. He grabs for the wad of toilet paper and guides it gently to Eddie’s lip. The bleeding has started anew, faster and steadier. With the press, Steve whispers, “I’ve got you. Never have to beg for my help, Eddie. Never, ever.” He holds it there for a few silent minutes. And when he takes it away, the bleeding has soothed. “I’m gonna put some Neosporin on your lip, okay? It might sting.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie lowly whispers. Still though, he winces with the small swipe of cream to his lip. Hissing minutely behind his teeth. Steve runs his other palm down Eddie’s right arm.

Once his lip is taken care of, the other areas follow easy. Wiping carefully at the tacky areas of drying blood on his skin. Underneath his lower lip, dipping a little into his right nostril, the underside of his chin. And when the first aid is done, Steve settles back on the bathroom floor, hands pressed warmly to Eddie’s knees. “Let’s get you a change of warm clothes,” he starts, “and some ice for that bruise. Do you need any ice for the ones on your wrist?” Eddie just shakes his head. “Okay,” Steve mutters, nodding. “The good news is that nothing’s broken. Just some gnarly coloring and swelling that needs remedied. How about you follow me upstairs and we can hang out in my room?”

They don’t speak as they ascend the stairs. Or as Steve hands over a small stack of clothes: green sweatpants, white long sleeve undershirt, thick grey socks. Neither of them speak as Eddie changes in the ensuite bathroom or when he slithers back into the bedroom, still hunched, still small. As they clamber into Steve’s bed, sitting up at the headboard, legs stretched in front of them, hands to themselves.

The silence is almost suffocating. Hates the small sniffles coming from his left. Hates how one of his closest friends has been reduced to the skeleton of a boy, surely somebody that Wayne met many years ago. Hates it all. Hates it.

“Do you want to know what happened?” Eddie finally croaks.

“Only if you want me to know,” Steve easily replies. Because, sure, he loves his gossip. Loves the drama that swirls around Hawkins. But Eddie’s business is his own, and if he’s embarrassed by what happened, Steve won’t force. Fuck, he knows what it’s like to get your ass beat and then want to remain silent in the aftermath.

Eddie nods slow, eyes at his folded hands, searching for the words. His tongue rolls over his top teeth. And he sighs through his nose. His voice is raspy and small when he speaks. Steve instinctually leans closer. They’re both warm, or at least, Eddie’s nearing that. “I was eating lunch in the cafeteria today,” he begins. “I ate alone because I didn’t—It’s not worth dragging attention to the rest of Hellfire. Not anymore. Didn’t even want to do one of my stupid speeches, y’know?” Steve hums.

He continues, “This girl—probably a sophomore, I don’t know—had walked behind my table. But she tripped over something and fell straight to the ground, her lunch was spilled all over the place, down the front of her shirt. She was crying. And I—“ He huffs, closes his eyes, and roams his teeth again. His head falls back, hitting the headboard with a soft Thud. Opening his eyes up at the ceiling, it’s all too obvious that they’re filling with tears again. “All I did was stand up from my seat and offer my hand to her. That’s all I did. But…Fuck,” he softly swears. His hand coming up and swiping at his eyes. “Jason’s stupid buddies saw me. Shoved me down to the ground. Scared off that girl. That poor girl. And they just beat me,” he rushes out, unwavering, though congested. “Beat me in front of all my fucking peers. So I just ran, Steve. Ran away like I always do. Back to my car and then I—I didn’t really know where I was going. Ended up here, I guess.”

Steve rests the side of his head on the board of his bed. Just looking over at Eddie. “I’m sorry, Eds,” he states sincerely. “For what they did.” He wishes there was more he could say. Could do. Eddie definitely won’t allow him to go on a rampage in his honor. But, Steve weighs the consequences in his head.

“It’s not your fault,” Eddie whispers after a moment. Sighing with the sentiment.

“I can still be sorry on your behalf,” Steve shoots right back. “I’m glad you came here, though. I’d probably worry otherwise.” He rests his left hand over Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “Is there anything else that I can do for you right now?”

For a moment, Eddie hesitates. Seemingly mulling over whatever it is he wants. Until, his head drops down and his eyes are set on Steve. Big and wet. They dart between Steve’s, searching. With whatever he found, he softly requests, “Can you hug me?”

Without another thought, Steve scoots as close as he possibly can. Their thighs hot on each other. And he scoops Eddie up between his arms. One over his shoulder blades, the other resting on his lower back. His hands splay over Eddie’s warm body. Head tucked to the side of Eddie’s.

And Eddie, he wraps back enthusiastically. A hand going to Steve’s head, the other to his right side. Fingers simply toying with the ends of Steve’s hair. He goes boneless in the embrace, sighing into it. Shoving his forehead into Steve’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Steve shakes his head. “No need.” And it’s true. Because, gosh, Steve would do anything for Eddie. If it means ridding him of all the hurt he’ll ever experience, taking it on as his own, he’d do it. In a heartbeat. “Does your chest still hurt?”

“No,” Eddie whispers, his own head knocking into Steve’s neck. “Think you fixed me. Think this fixed me.” He squeezes Steve’s torso. And then he goes quiet again. His breaths heavy, relaxed, deep into Steve’s soul. The frizzy bits to his hair tickle against Steve’s jaw with every small shuffle, like he’s trying to burrow deep between them. Steve almost wants to open up his ribcage and let him in. Then, Eddie sighs completely sated. He whispers, “Reminds me of my mom.”

“That a good thing?”

“It’s the best, Stevie,” Eddie swears. “Her hugs were like sunshine. Like just one touch and suddenly my day would just—“ And he makes a soft “Poof” noise near Steve’s ear. It warms his chest, the way Eddie animates things. “—No clouds.”

Steve nuzzles closer. “You can always come to me,” he promises. “I’ll hug you even if you don’t have the words to ask.”

I’d find you in the dark, anywhere, anytime, he almost wants to say. I’d find you by touch alone.

Eddie’s content sigh is enough of a response. It’s enough for Steve to remain pressed to him. It’s enough to make his heart beat molasses slow and comfortable.

It’s enough to make him say, “I’ve got you.” What he truly means: “I love you."

💕—————💕 Okay, I am so sorry for how long it took to get to the hug. But I literally couldn't think of a hugging interaction without a lot of information leading into it. Hope this is good, though!

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #minor violence #minor injury #steddielovemonth #day 20

146 notes · View notes

marioistrans-a · 8 months

Text

he never learns :/

#mario #luigi #smb #minor injury #ik he got into so many fights as a kid i know it i kn #their principals from elementary school all the way up to high school learned their footsteps bc they got sent to the office so much #theyre supposed to be 10 in the pic of them as kids btw!!!#heaths art

210 notes · View notes

skyward-floored · 4 months

Text

Warriors gets his nickname

Hi I’m not updating long fics even though I want to, I’m instead writing more short Incredibles au stuff *collapses*. I’ll update other things eventually I promise ;-;

This is the furthest back fic I’ve written I think— Time is only a teenager, and Warriors is very smol. Time goes by Time because he got sick of them both being Link, but Warriors doesn’t have a nickname yet. I think that’s all the background you really need though, so I’ll stop and just let you read already.

————————————————————

Link held tight to Time’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk, headed towards the corner stand where Time knew they could get lunch for cheap. He usually skipped lunch himself, or just nibbled something small, but since it was the weekend, Link wasn’t in school and he had to get him something.

Time looked down at his little brother, Link trotting along beside him. He was nearly drowning in his too-big scarf, and Time flipped it around his neck one more time so he wouldn’t trip on it, Link giving him a little smile.

Time sighed to himself.

He was still figuring out how to deal with having a kid as his responsibility, but... he was making it work. He’d managed to get Link in a preschool on weekdays, and was working on a more permanent place for them to stay besides “in this nice tree” or “in the backseat of the car”. Nobody believed him when he said he was old enough to rent an apartment when he tried though, so it was usually still the backseat of the car for them.

But in general, Time didn’t usually feel like screaming, and was able to keep Link happy, so he was counting the whole thing as at least a partial success.

He seriously needed to find a nickname for the kid though— two Links was two too many.

Why did you name him after me, Mom? he thought as he watched Link jump over a slushy puddle. Why did you leave him with me? Surely you knew someone who who would do a better job? Someone who’s an adult? I’m his brother, but that doesn’t mean I know how to raise him.

A crashing sound made Time’s ears prick, and the thoughts he’d been repeatedly having ever since he’d met Link fled as he turned towards a tiny side street, one that ran behind several shops.

He tugged Link over towards the alley, suspicion in every step. That hadn’t just sounded like a normal dropping-something crash to him. And sure enough, he found a newly shattered window that led into a pawn shop, a shadow disappearing into the shelves inside.

“...bad guy?” Link asked, and Time nodded, already looking for a spot to switch into his super suit.

“Bad guy. A crazy one too, breaking and entering in broad daylight. Looks like somebody doesn’t know that stealing is wrong,” he said with a tsk, and Link let out a small giggle.

Time quickly ducked behind a dumpster to change, and emerged moments later, flexing his hands in his gloves. Link gave him an interested look, and Time suddenly remembered that he couldn’t very well bring his four-year-old brother inside with him.

“...Right,” Time sighed, then scooped Link up and quickly deposited him behind the same dumpster he’d changed behind. “Stay here, don’t let him or anyone see you. I’ll take care of him but don’t come out until I come get you.”

Link frowned, worry pinching at his eyebrows, and Time tucked his scarf a little more tightly around him.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Time assured, but Link kept frowning.

“Hurt?”

“I won’t get hurt. And even if I do I can handle it, but I need to not worry about you while I fight. Stay here,” Time said firmly, then turned and jumped into the shattered window before his brother could argue.

He spotted the robber within seconds, the man breaking open a glass case with all sorts of valuables stored inside. Time put his little brother out of his mind for now, and crept closer, then abruptly cleared his throat. The man jumped at the noise and whipped around, brandishing a crowbar and staring at him.

“I don’t think those belong to you,” Time said with a smirk, and the man swung, Time nimbly jumping out of the way.

“Fierce Deity,” the man spat, and Time gave him a mocking bow.

“At your service. Put the fancy gold watches back.”

The man laughed, then his eyes narrowed behind the reptilian mask he wore. “Dinolfos of the Lizal gang doesn’t take orders from you.”

“Fine,” Time sighed, rolling his eyes. “I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

He threw a punch towards Dinolfos, which the robber neatly avoided, and the two began to fight, weaving around each other and dodging attacks.

Dinolfos was surprisingly skilled at avoiding Time’s punches, and Time had barely landed any hits after several minutes. Dinolfos on the other hand, had grazed him at least twice now, and annoyance began to swell in Time’s chest. He wasn’t incapacitated from the hits, but he didn’t like where this was going.

He fought faster, managing to knock the crowbar from Dinolfos’s hand, and the battle sped up without the weapon in the mix, kicks and punches just barely grazing both of them.

This guy is fast, Time thought, lunging out of the way of a punch that likely would have given him a bloody nose. How is he so fast?! Argh.

Time managed a swing that connected with Dinalfos’s shoulder, and he reeled back, shouting in anger as he lunged for Time. Time once again dodged out of the way, and noticed with a smirk that his opponent’s swings were getting more wild.

He backed up to give himself some space, easily dodging the angry punches thrown at him. Time stuck his tongue out as Dinolfos missed again, and his opponent let out a roar of frustration as Time continued to easily avoid his angered strikes.

Until Time stumbled on the dropped crowbar.

His foot slipped and Dinolfos lunged, kicking Time right in the chest and knocking the breath out of him as he was thrown straight through the broken window. He went flying into some trash cans at the end of the alley, and heard Link gasp from his hiding spot, but his chest was tight, too tight for him to sit up or even move, just lie there and gasp for breath.

Dinolfos’s foot had caught him at exactly the wrong angle, and knocked every bit of air from his lungs.

Footsteps ran over, and Time opened his eyes with a cough, expecting to see Dinolfos with his weapon raised above his head, ready to strike.

Instead he saw Link standing protectively in front of him, arms held out as if to shield Time despite his tiny size.

Dinolfos laughed.

“Is this your sidekick, Deity?” he guffawed, looking down at Link as he stalked forward. “He is tiny! Were you so desperate for help that you thought even a baby would be better than nothing?”

He continued to laugh, and Link glared up at him, his hands clenching into fists. Time tried his best to catch his breath and get to his feet, but his lungs refused to work, no matter how he gasped. Stupid lungs, come on!

The very air temperature seemed to drop all of a sudden, and a flare of panic hit Time as the robber stepped towards Link. No no no no no—

Dinolfos lunged for him, but Link blasted a spurt of ice from his hands, hitting Dinolfos in the legs. He yelped in surprise, and before he could recover, Link sprayed more ice at him, trailing up his legs and hitting his arms as well.

The shots were clumsy, and it was obvious Link didn’t have much practice, but Dinolfos was completely stuck by the time he finished, and unable to grab his weapon.

Or move, for that matter.

“You brat!” Dinolfos hissed, glaring at where Link stood. “How dare you? I am of the Lizalfos pack, son of Dinal, leader of the Lower Lizards, Master of—!”

Link shot a bit of ice over his mouth, making his face flush with anger.

Time finally managed to get some air into his lungs, and he rolled over, looking up at Dinolfos and Link with an impressed expression.

“Huh,” Time wheezed, still trying to fully catch his breath. Partially from the kick, but mostly from the remaining panic of seeing his little brother nearly be attacked while he just gasped for breath on the pavement.

Sloppy, too sloppy, you should have put him further away, he barely knows how to use his powers he could’ve been hurt he could have been ki—

Time sighed, and winced as he put a hand to his chest and lightly rubbed. He was definitely going to have a bruise tomorrow. “We’ll have to talk about your listening skills kiddo, but... nice work. You’re quite the little warrior, huh?”

His brother’s face positively lit up at his words, and he pointed to himself, some snowflakes settling in his hair.

“Warriors,” he said proudly, and Time snorted, slowly getting to his knees.

“Warrior, kid. No S.”

“Warriors!”

“There’s only one of you, there’s no S,” Time argued back as he stood, but the kid just kept chattering ‘Warriors’ to himself, over and over. A vein bulged in Dinalfos’ forehead, and Time snorted, shaking his head.

He had been thinking about finding a nickname earlier... I suppose there are worse ones out there.

“Well come on, ‘Warriors’, let’s go get lunch. Frosty here can just hang around until the police show up,” he said, ruffling Link’s hair.

Link beamed, and took the hand Time offered him as they stepped out of the alleyway and walked down the street, leaving Dinolfos behind in the alley.

Dinolfos yelled a curse behind them that was entirely unintelligible.

#Incredibles au #linkeduniverse #linked universe fanfic #lu warriors #lu time #linked universe au #minor injury #Incredibles au fic #writing from the floor #teeny tiny Warriors #itty bitty #he doesn’t talk much #and Time’s a snarky teenager #who’s resigned himself to caring for this kid because nobody ELSE is gonna do it

85 notes · View notes

saline-coelacanth · 6 months

Text

Part 2 to that Storm Vessel comic I started working on a bit ago. (Go see part 1 here)

But yeah I just really wanted to draw a scene of Cole and Jay getting to actually talk for a little bit until Jay starts to slowly turn back into crazy mode and he has to leave.

Oh and btw, no, this is not the scene where Jay loses all hope and goes to the endless sea, that happens later in the timeline. I just felt like mentioning it in case some people assumed that's what this scene was. Again, there's a lot of time where Jay is still flying around Ninjago and destroying stuff before he fully leaves.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #my art #storm vessel au #minor injury #jay walker #cole brookstone #bruiseshipping #also i just wanna mention how much fun i had with jay's colors here #i love showing the gradual change from purple to blue and then back to purple at the end #although his purple form is actually more pink?#idk purple is just what caught on maybe i'll start calling it pink mode if it gets confusing #also also storm vessel jay going from pink/purple to blue #has made me start joking that he has the power of bisexual lighting #or maybe it should be bisexual LIGHTNING ha ha get it?#anyway bisexual rights and i'm gonna stop rambling now

96 notes · View notes

creative-caramel-coffee · 9 months

Text

Insignificant Injuries and Illness

Prompt: “Go back to bed before you hurt yourself.” (From Sombre Sapphics blog prompts)

Pairings: Wanda x R

Word count: 730

Summary: every time your left alone it ends in chaos

TW: minor injury, flu, coughing

A/n sorry I havent been very active work’s been kickin my ass

It had been three days. Three days and your bed was no more interesting than it had been when you first were bound to it by your girlfriend. Sure you were tired but boredom won out. Wanda had finally left your side to bring you some more soup and once the footsteps faded down the hall you knew you had maybe five minutes to satisfy the boredom for the first time in three days.

You stood shakily and waddled over to your desk still wrapped in layers of blankets. Carefully you moved the throwing knife off your sketchbook, cursing silently as your finger brushed against the blade and blood began to bead on your fingertip. Quickly you grabbed your small pencil case and the sketchbook and were about to get back into bed when the door opened. You stilled at the sound of the door. Wanda put on a stern expression. In any other circumstances you would have found it hot. But not when you were at risk of getting yelled at.

“Go back to bed before you hurt yourself.” she said stepping into the room holding the still steaming soup on a tray with some dayquil and a glass of cold water. Knowing she would find out one way or another you sighed throwing on a devilish grin.

“Too late already did” you grin before laughing still mildly delirious from the fever. You shuffled the stuff into your other arm and held up your bleeding finger. The red bead rolling down the length of your palm. Wanda used her magic to set the soup by the bedside and take your hand in hers carefully holding it to the low light due to your headache.

“Seriously?!” she exclaimed “ i left you alone for five minuets y/n” she shook her head. You grinned

“Which is five minutes too long babe” you lent in for s kiss when she dodged.

“No. Your going to be the death of me.” she placed her hands on your shoulders and guided you back to the bed as you began to sway. “Sit here and don’t move.”

You did as she said still cradling your finger as the blood began to run down your arm.

“I wont be the death of you if I die first” you called out as she went into the bathroom to get the first-aid kit. The words caught in your throat as you doubled over on the bed and hacked up a lung. The coughs tore at your chest which heaved at each strained breathe.

“Babe? You ok?” Wanda called quickly coming back out with the med kit. She used her magic to grab the glass of water and held it to your lips urging you to take slow sips. When you finally stopped you looked up to see her concerned face.

“Sorry” you rasped eliciting another short cough. She rubbed a hand between your shoulder blades.

“No. none of that. I know you don’t feel good love. Now let me see that finger.” she held out her hand and you put your hand in hers finger outstretched. She clicked her tongue.

“You did a good job on it at least.” she chuckled and began to clean it. You hissed at the antiseptic and Wanda paused as you began coughing again.

“Your doing so well babe just a little more.” she encouraged as tears built in your eyes at the pain in your chest. When she finished putting on the red bandaid, a gift you gave her for her first Christmas with the avengers, she placed a soft kiss on-top of the patch. Using her hand on your chest she guided you back into the pile of pillows.

“You need to eat something my love. Can i feed you.” you nodded feeling slightly hungry. Carefully Wanda held the soup in her lap and used her hand to guide the spoon to your lips. After you had drained half the bowl of the godly soup your eyes began to flutter closed.

“Rest babe. Ill be here when you wake up” she placed a kiss on your heated forehead as you fell into dreamland

MASTERLIST

#marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #sicfic #wanda marvel #wanda comfort #wanda mcu #wanda x y/n #wanda fanfic #wanda sick #sick reader #sick r #minor injury #flu #whump #fanfic #hurt/comfort

147 notes · View notes

dianadeadwing · 5 months

Text

I vote for Tina as Belcher kid most likely to get into a fight. Now Louise would absolutely fight as well if she had to but I think she’s more into long term psychological warfare. Gene, of course, is avoiding conflict at all costs (maybe hoping things will dissolve into a rap battle?). Tina though, just hit one of her berserk buttons at the right time and she will throw down immediately.

[ID:

Digital fan art of Tina from Bob’s Burgers. She sits in a green plastic chair in a school environment with her arms crossed over her chest, one leg crossed over the other with her eyes cast down and expression irritated . She has red scrapes on her her knee and cheek and a bandage on her elbow.

/end ID]

#bob's burgers #fanart #artists on tumblr #procreate #digital art #my art tag #tina belcher #injuries #tw injury #minor injury #tw minor injury

87 notes · View notes

nurse-buckley · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 6

Title:

Prompt: Written for anon "Eddie x reader. Reader is also with the 118. Eddie is training her on something so they trade places and then she gets injured, maybe hit by falling debris or something. And then while they’re at the hospital waiting to hear how she is he feels guilty because she was standing where he should have been."

Word Count: 1,489

Characters: Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Bobby Nash, Hen Wilson and Chimney Han

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of injury (minor)

Summary: You and the team are called to an accident at a construction site when disaster strikes. Written for day six of @whumptober for the prompt "it should have been me."

Tags: @firemedicdiaz @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @alexxavicry @cm1031sr

Authors notes: unbeta'd but I've got a migraine and wanted to post it before midnight. All mistakes are my own - hoping to reupload a polished version soon.

You were sitting with Eddie and buck, chatting over your coffee when the call bell sounded, altering you to another rescue. You followed quickly behind your team as you grabbed your turnouts and piled onto the fire engine. The sirens blared as you raced down the streets of LA and Bobby relayed the information he was receiving from dispatch. There were reports of a disaster at a construction site with multiple victims involved. You looked out the window as you mentally prepared yourself for what you were about to encounter when you arrived on scene.

When you finally arrived, chaos greeted you as you took in the full extent of the accident. There was debris scattered everywhere as well as workers with various injuries, some were walking wounded and others were on the floor, surrounded by their colleagues who were attempting to help them.

Bobby gave you your assignments, putting you and Eddie on medical with Hen and Chim due to the amount of casualties involved. You and Eddie partnered up together and grabbed your equipment before assessing the scene to identify who needed your help most.

Amidst the chaos, your eyes landed on a man with a severe leg injury, his colleagues were frantically attempting to stem the bleeding as he deteriorated.

You took over from one of the men, holding pressure on the wound as Eddie began his assessment and secured the man’s c-spine. Eddie could see the extent of the injury and turned to you, his voice filled with urgency, “swap with me. I’ll take over.”

Nodding, you easily swapped positions and took over the patient's airway while Eddie took charge of managing the patient’s leg wound, knowing he had more experience with these sorts of injuries.

As you began to work, a loud crash echoed from above as a piece of debris fell from a higher level right where Eddie had been moments before. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Eddie could do nothing but watch in horror, his heart in his throat as the ceiling fell around you. The last thing you remember before your world faded to black was a large piece of debris coming down on top of you and knocking you unconscious.

Eddie felt as if his heart had stopped as he watched your body slump to the ground motionless. Panic surged through Eddie as he helplessly watched from his position and desperately screamed for back up. He was surrounded by extra hands moments later, including those of his team. Hen and Chimney rushed to your side, Buck and Bobby joining only moments later. Medics took over looking after the patients allowing him to rush forward to your side. He frantically pressed his fingers into your neck and let out a choked sob as he felt the weak pulse beneath his touch. It was a tense and agonizing few minutes but eventually they were able to pull you free.

Eddie climbed in the ambulance behind you, his face etched with worry for you and the guilt he couldn’t help feeling that it should have been him on that stretcher. The team loaded you onto the waiting ambulance and rushed towards the hospital.

As the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the doctors and nurses practically tore the gurney away from your teammates, promising that they would do their best for you. Eddie just hoped their best would be enough.

Chim stepped behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “y/n’s strong. We got them here in time. They’re going to pull through.”

Eddie nodded, still not quite believing his friend as he sat in the uncomfortable and all too familiar chairs of the hospital waiting room and waited for news of your condition.

A few hours later, with no updates on your condition, Eddie’s worry began to grow. Before he could think on it any longer, the surgeon who’d been working on you appeared followed by a nurse. He looked exhausted, but wore a hopeful expression as he approached the group. “Y/N’s made it through surgery. They’re in critical condition, but stable. The next few hours and days are critical but we’re hopeful.”

“Once they’re out of recovery you can visit,” the nurse added.

Eddie couldn’t help the overwhelming flood of relief that washed over him at the news.

When the nurse came by again with another update and that you’d been moved out of recovery and into the ICU, Eddie was the first to rise. He promised himself that he’d watch out for you and be by your side until you woke up.

Two days later, you still remained unconscious in the ICU while your body healed from the accident. The 118 had taken turns paying you visits, coming and going, but one person had remained by your side the entire time. Buck entered the room, coffee cup in hand, not expecting to see Eddie still there. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, the dark circles under his eyes showing he hadn’t gotten much rest. The room was eerily silent, the only sound the beeping of the heart monitor and soft buzz of medical equipment as he took the empty seat next to Eddie. Buck studied Eddie’s face and how his eyes never left you.

“It should have been me,” Eddie muttered, so quietly Buck would have missed it if he weren’t sitting next to him.

Buck’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Eddie, what?”

“It should have been me who got hurt, not y/n. It should be me in that hospital bed.” He looked at Buck who was still just as confused.

“Eddie, you know this isn’t your fault, right? Accidents happen and you couldn’t have stopped it.”

“I put them here,” he choked out with tears in his eyes before continuing, “I asked them to swap places with me. If we hadn’t switched, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Buck’s expression softened, “Eds, we’d still be in this situation if you hadn’t switched, only it would be you in that bed. You made a split second decision based on skill and what you thought was best for the patient. Accidents happen all the time in our line of work. This isn’t your fault and Y/N is strong, they pulled through surgery and they’re going to be okay, alright?”

“I would have preferred it had been me.”

Buck sighed, he knew Eddie was tired and it wasn’t helping the situation. “We can’t change what happened, but what we can do is be here for y/n. They love you and they wouldn’t want you blaming yourself. When was the last time you got some rest or ate or drank anything?”

“I’m fine.”

“Eds, you need rest or you will end up in the hospital bed next to them. Come on, I’ll call Bobby and he can sit with them. You’re going to go home and I’m going to get you some food, water and you’re going to rest.”

“But…” he tried but Buck was having none of it.

“I’m not arguing Eds.”

Eddie’s gaze returned to you, his eyes still filled with guilt and regret. “I just want y/n to wake up.”

“They will, but we can’t do anything but wait right now and I know they’d want you to be looking after yourself too.”

Reluctantly Eddie got up from his seat and gave your hand a gentle squeeze before he followed Buck out of the room. They passed Bobby in the hallway who’d come at Buck’s request so you wouldn’t be left alone and headed back to Eddie’s to get him a shower, food and some rest.

A few hours later Buck got a call from the hospital. He sat down on the table and gave Eddie a gentle shake to wake him, his phone still clutched in his hand. Eddie’s heart was in his throat as he thought the worst before Buck told him the words he’d been hoping to hear since the accident. You were awake.

The pair rushed into your room, seeing you awake and talking to Bobby. A small smile crossed your lips as you saw Eddie waiting at the door. Buck and Bobby exchanged a knowing glance as they quietly left the room to give the two of you some privacy.

You held out your hand for him as he walked into the room and he took the seat by your side. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return, his eyes filling with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he began.

“Eddie,” you interrupted, “I don’t blame you. You didn’t do anything wrong, accidents happen and I’m glad it wasn’t you.”

“You heard?”

“I know you blame yourself and think it should have been you, but I’m glad it wasn’t.”

A tear rolled down his cheek as he leaned in close and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, relieved to finally know that you were going to be okay.

83 notes · View notes

kodieshmodie · 1 month

Text

POV: you’re caught in a cave-in but some blonde guy promises to get you out in one piece.

I did the Evil Artstyle challenge on Twitter (asked my followers what my art style traits are and tried to draw without them), and this is my attempt! No hair shines or blush, and I had to use thicker more textured lines. Definitely not the best attempt, but it was still very fun to try! 🤩💖

31 notes · View notes

ninjigma · 6 months

Text

QuinObi Week Part 5/5 - First / Previous

Day 5: AU Track: 'Walking The Wire' - Imagine Dragons (Spotify / YouTube)

"You know it would be much easier to save you if you didn't insist on breaking out yourself." "Was getting bored Obes, you know me." Obi-Wan sighed, blocking blaster bolts even as she failed to stop the small smile. Because she does know Quinlan, and he knows her. Always has and always will, no matter what may happen.

Yes this is a full, thought out AU. Nothing I have really written yet besides some QuinObi snippets and some little found family things, but none the less, it is the QuinObi story I have the most thoughts on hehe. Version without all the lights below the cut (this makes Quinlan's injuries more visible, as a heads up).

Enjoy!

@quinobiweek

49 notes · View notes

butchsupermario · 6 months

Text

you dont know how to be alone but youd better figure it out fast

#luigi #super mario bros #smb #luigis mansion #heaths art #minor injury #⚡️

321 notes · View notes

getawayfox · 1 year

Text

250 words for today's @hdcandyheartsfest prompt "Second date." Thank you my angel @crazybutgood for the beta! 🤍

Harry adjusts the small, inadequate pillow St Mungo’s provides, immediately wincing at the sharp pain in his ribs the movement causes. He looks up to see if his Healer noticed. Judging by the disapproving frown, he definitely did.

“Stay still, will you?” Draco says, his voice ice cold.

“Impeccable bedside manners,” Harry tries for a joke, and is met with stony silence.

Draco watches the blue shimmer of the diagnostic charms above Harry’s chest with intense concentration. It’s entirely endearing and Harry can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips.

“Stop fidgeting.”

Harry beams at the mean tone of Draco’s voice, the kind that means he cares. It makes Harry feel buoyant, as if he was hit by a Cheering Charm.

“This is not funny, Potter. Move one more time and I won’t hesitate with a full body bind.”

“Do you threaten all your patients or is this special treatment?”

Draco’s mouth is a thin line. Harry grabs for his hand, doesn’t let go until Draco looks at him. “This is not how I imagined our second date, either,” he says, not laughing any more.

“That’s not why—” Draco starts but is interrupted by a soft ding of the diagnostic charms. They gleam with a soft yellow light now. Harry’s fine.

Draco drops his clipboard on the bed, then presses his forehead to Harry’s. “Don’t scare me like that again, you reckless idiot,” he says, but now he’s smiling too, all flustered and lovely. “Dinner’s on you tonight.”

#hdcandyheartsfest2023 #minor injury #but everyone is fine #fluff #drarry #drarry micro #drarry squad #Healer AU #fox does candy hearts

234 notes · View notes

prettybirdy979 · 3 months

Text

Hugfest Fic: Aziraphale & Crowley - The Pointy End Goes The Other Way

For the Ace Omens Discord Server’s Hugfest 2024. Today’s prompt was ‘Accidental hug’. This can also be found on AO3 here

‘You know angel, most people put the pointy end in the other person. Not themselves.’

Aziraphale can’t help beaming when he looks up at the voice. ‘Crowley!’ he calls, gesturing to the bed beside him. ‘Crowley!’

The demon rolls his eyes behind his glasses and takes the offered seat. ‘You’re on the good stuff then?’

‘They wouldn’t let me skip it,’ Aziraphale complains. ‘Poured a whole bottle of some foul liquor down my throat. And now I can’t sober up because then it’ll hurt and they’ll give it to me again.’

Crowley huffs a laugh before snapping his fingers. The tent freezes around them.

Or the people of the tent? Tent people? People.

‘You’re on the really good alcohol,’ Crowley says, raising an eyebrow. ‘Come on then, I’m here to spring you from the glorious care of whatever poncy git you stabbed yourself to avoid stabbing.’

‘I did mean to stab him,’ Aziraphale says earnestly, as Crowley helps him up from the bed. ‘But he was only duelling because-’

Crowley cuts him off. ‘You stabbed yourself because you felt sorry for him?’

Aziraphale thinks this through for a moment. ‘No,’ he says finally. ‘I stabbed myself because I missed.’

He hopes he doesn’t sound as pleased as he feels about that.

Crowley shifts his grip on Aziraphale’s side. ‘You missed?’

‘I missed!’

Okay, that might have been too gleeful.

For a moment Crowley is silent. Then he begins to laugh. ‘You missed,’ he repeats. ‘You!’

‘Missed!’ Aziraphale agrees. ‘I’m not much of a swordsman anymore,’ he adds.

Crowley’s grip tightens for a moment, before he takes in a deep breath. ‘No, you’re not.’ He sighs and tries to adjust his grip at the same time Aziraphale tries to take a step forward.

‘Oop!’ Aziraphale says as Crowley loses his grip on him and he starts to fall sideways. This was not the right way to move.

‘Fuck,’ Crowley curses and then something - someone! - catches Aziraphale in a hug, stopping him from hitting the ground.

He looks up at Crowley and grins. ‘A hug!’ he says and leans into it. ‘Nice hug.’

‘Accidental hug,’ Crowley grumbles as he hauls Aziraphale back into an upright position. ‘Come on, let’s get you somewhere I can sober you up and we’ll get you healed.’

‘And drunk again,’ Aziraphale says. ‘It’s much more fun with you.’

Crowley goes a lovely shade of red at that and moves, so he’s not hugging Aziraphale anymore. Pity, Aziraphale was rather enjoying that.

More hugs, he thinks as Crowley leads him away. Next time they’re drunk, more hugs.

(it is surprising how many accidents an angel and a demon have over the years that end up with one of them holding the other. Very surprising indeed)

#good omens #ineffable husbands #My Scribbles #Hugfest 2024 #Hugfest #minor injury

29 notes · View notes

admrlthundrbolt · 1 month

Text

Alone Together (Nandor the Relentless x Chubby Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Moving to a new home to take care of your grandfather was one thing. But finding out that the neighbors are Vampires. Well nothing could prepare you for that. If only you noticed just how much attention Nandor gave you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys. I'm back at it again. I watched the newest season of What We do in the Shadows recently. Which reminded me of how much of a himbo Nador is. Including how quickly he falls in love. So it wasn't hard for him to become my muse.

Anywho, I hope you enjoy.

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

Standing in the kitchen your gaze wandered to the window. The veiw was one you still hadn't gotten used to. Traveling halfway across the country can do that to you.

Turning back to the oatmeal that was bubbling away on the stove top, you stirred it. Spooning some into a couple of bowls, you set off for the living room.

“Here you go Papa.” Placing the bowl on a serving tray in front of him. You sat on the nearby couch, not yet eating.

He tore his eyes from the TV, playing old black and white reruns. Then frowned down at his breakfast. Placing his spoon in the oatmeal he scooped up a bit and let it fall back into the bowl. “Now I'm not one to complain.” You had to fight to keep the smile off of your face. “But honestly would it hurt to have something with a little more flavor?”

You let the smile slid onto your face as he finished. Heading to the kitchen you grabbed a jar of honey and started back. Only to give it a second thought, snatching up a tablespoon too. “I get where your coming from, really I do. But it's the doctor's orders, gotta watch your cholesterol.” Standing next to him you held out the jar. “I'll make you a deal. You can have a serving of this, if we watch something in color.” Noding he reaches for the jar. “That isn't the news.”

He deflated a bit at that, but still agreed. Then perked up suddenly and said. “Speaking of news, could you go grab the paper.”

“Sure, but I'm not leaving the honey.” Walking away, you chuckled at the mumbled obscenities that left his mouth.

Going out to grab the paper, you decided to check the mailbox as well. “Junk, junk, Bill, Nandor The Relentless?” It was an odd thing to see in a letter. Equally as bizarre was the ornate nature of the peice of mail. As you looked over the envelope, you realized that it wasn't your address. Glancing at the number's on the other nearby mailboxes, it seemed to match a neighbor's. It was the home that you had seen a nervous looking younger man. He was usually working on the yard or house. It was an older Gothic manor of a home, so the upkeep was probably brutal.

Heading back in you dropped the mail next to your grandfather's breakfast. Then turned and made for the front door again. “Going to give the neighbor's some of their mail we got.”

He nodded half heartedly as he stuck his nose in the newspaper. “OK, while your there see if they have something tastier for breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Waving your hand around, you beelined towards the mysterious letter owner. Not seeing anyone in the front yard, you made your way up to the front door and knocked. Glancing around the house as you waited, you couldn't help but admire the odd architecture. As you were about to knock again, thinking the home owner may not have heard you, the door swung open. It was the anxious guy and a camera crew? Raising a brow you held up the letter. “Hi, I live over there.” You pointed out your grandfather's house. “We got one of a piece of your mail, Mr. Nandor.” Holding it towards him, you smiled.

He seemed to be in a bit of a daze, until you moved the letter towards him. “Oh, thank you. I'm actually Guillermo, Nandor is my Master.” He seemed to flinch at his words and quickly changed the subject. “Isn't that Mr. Wilson's house. I didn't know he had moved.”

Shaking the odd feeling from your mind, you shook your head. “No, he's still there. He's my grandfather, after my grandmother passed. Well, I offered to move in and help out. It seems to be a good decision for both of us.”

He noticed how the smile slipped from your face as you explained. “I was sorry to hear about your grandmother's passing. I'm glad that Mr. Wilson has someone to count on.”

Your smile had returned at the statement. “That's if I can keep up with the old man. I'm (Y/N) by the way.” You held your hand out and was impressed with the grip his handshake had. “Speaking of, I should probably get back to the house. Before he sends out the search parties that is." Turning back towards your home, you threw a quick comment over your shoulder. “Hope to see you around."

This left a flustered Guillermo to rush back inside. Pushing the crew away from his flush expression, he made for his master's room. Placing the letter down on a nearby dresser. He left for his own room. To definitely not think about how great it would be to have someone outside of the vampire house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nandor was restless. Something was causing his slumber to constantly be interupted. That something happened to be a scent. The moment it entered his room he couldn't settle down. But his internal clock knew it was nowhere near sundown. So he tossed and turned, enduring the distraction.

“Morning Master.” Came the timid voice of Guillermo.

Before he could approach the coffin, Nandor burst from it. His glowing eyes searched the room. Taking deep breaths, he felt like a hound seeking out his prey. Following his nose he found a letter addressed to himself. Tearing it open, he rummaged for the source of the smell. Only to find that the letter itself was covered in the odor.

“Master?” The familiar glanced nervously at the documentary crew.

His nervous call, made the vampire finally notice that the familiar was in the room.

Gathering his composer, he turned to the other man. “Ah Guillermo, I was just inspecting this letter. Could you tell me why it smells this way.”

He was about to laugh off the notion, it was just a piece of mail. That was until he remembered how it got to the house, you. You had hand delivered the letter. He cringed at the thought of his master sinking his fangs into you. The new neighbor that was taking care of their newly widowed grandfather. So as his master glared expectantly down at him. He decided a half truth would be the best way to keep you safe. “It was delivered this morning. Maybe the post office has a new mailman.”

He towered over his familiar and a smile broke out on his face. “Yes, that must be it. A new person has started working at the postal building.” He placed the letter in his coffin. Trying and failing to be subtle about it. “Keep an eye out for this postal person. They may be more interesting than they lead on.”

“OK Master. Did you have anything planned for today.” Glancing at the crew He hoped the subject change would distract the vampire. At least enough to keep your name from spilling out of his mouth.

“Yes. I would like to look at horses. So I will need you to set up the light box.” With a flourish of his cape, he walked out of the room. A very relieved human following after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking a long swig from your water bottle, you wiped the sweat from your brow. The feeling of your muscles burning was a pleasant sensation. It was nice having a bit more free time. But the thought of sitting around all day was not the way you wanted to live.

You were thankful for all of the gyms that were a stones throw away from home. It honestly seemed like you couldn't go a couple of blocks without passing a gym. But hey, you weren't going to complain about a convenience.

Finishing out your set, you cleaned the machine. The warmth built up in your limbs made you decide it was time for a cool down. Seeing a few treadmills free, you went to grab a spot. Only to shift paths to the bikes as you spot a familiar face.

Sitting down next to him, you felt bad at how much you seemed to startle him. “Sorry buddy, didn't mean to spook you.” Starting to pedal the exercise bike, you hoped he didn't mind you setting up next to him.

He shook his head. “No, you're fine. Didn't expect to see you here is all.”

“I get that.” A stale silence lingered between the two if you. Thinking that a subject change would ease the tension, you said. “So did Nandor get their letter?”

His shoulders tensed a bit at the mention of his Master. Glancing at you, he saw the gentle expression on your face. He was reminded that you were a regular person. That just seemed as lonely as he felt sometimes. So he nodded and gave you a quick smile. “He did, he got a little excited about it too. You know how older people can be about letters though.”

You nodded. “Oh don't I know it. Everytime my Grandfather gets a personal letter in the mail you would think it was his birthday.”

This confirmed your suspension of Guillermo being in a similar situation as yourself. You had heard from another neighbor that there were a group of people that lived in the house with him. And seeing him do all of the yard work. Well it wasn't like some elderly people could handle those type of tasks. It made you like him even more, knowing that you could have a kinship through caring for others.

So you cycled next to each other and made plans to meet up at the gym more often. You loved the idea of having a workout buddy. While he was relieved that he could spend some time with you, away from the house of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finishing up another workout, you bid Guillermo a goodnight. No matter how many times you offered him a ride home he always declined. Even as the year settled into winter he still insisted. Something about how a brisk walk was how he preferred to end a workout.

Shaking your head at how odd he could act, you didn't notice the item in your path. Catching yourself on a nearby wall, you looked down. It was a worn out dark wallet. You picked it up to take to the front desk. Only to stop as you notice that Guillermo's license was in it. Walking to the front, you glanced either way down the sidewalk. His curly locks were nowhere in sight. With a shrug, you headed back towards the locker room. It wouldn't be a problem to drop it off to him. Plus it would be nice to meet the Nandor you've heard so much about. But had never had the opportunity to be introduced.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearing the front door open Nandor narrowed his brow. “Guillermo, come to the library. I wish to to purchase a item and need the plastic card.” The quick patter of footsteps followed the command.

“Coming Master.” Then a pause in his step and the sound of rustling. “Um, do you happen to know where my wallet is?”

Rolling his eyes, the Vampire rose from his seat. Making his way over to the familiar, he scoffed. “Of course not. If I did than I would not have asked you for the card.” Sending a look at the camera, he said. “Fucking guy.”

As the younger man went to tear his room apart, a knock rang through the house. “Could you please get that Master.” Then realizing that that could be seen as a demand he added. “So I can find the credit card for you.”

Throwing a hand over his shoulder, he headed to the entrance. “Very well, but don't expect this to become a regular thing.”

Swinging the door open he paused. He was sure that if he still needed breath to live, it would have caught. You were a beacon of beauty. A vision of soft splendor that he could loose himself in. Then your scent hit him and an indescribable hunger welled within him. A baser urge rose from within himself and he lunged towards you. Not sure what his inner instincts were forcing upon him.

Before you could get a word out, however, your muscle memory took over. Which caused the hand holding the wallet to strike out. Causing Nandor to halt in his movement.

“For fucks sake!” His hands cupped his nose and he was surprised to feel liquid. Pulling a hands back, he couldn't help but admire the blood coating his fingers. Glancing up at you he was taken aback at the compassionate expression on your face.

You quickly took his face into your hands and fussed over him. “I'm so sorry, it was just instinct. I can't believe I hurt you." Tugging a few tissues from you bag. You gently pressed them to his nose.

Even though he knew his vampiric powers had already healed him. He let you take care of him. Your touch was warm and gentle. Your soft hands flitted over his face in a pleasant manner that he could indulge in for hours.

The nose bleed had seemed to stop. Taking a step back,you gave him a nervous smile. “I really am sorry about all this. I just wanted to return Guillermo's wallet.” This caused the mystery man to step towards you.

“Why are you interested in seeking an audience with my familiar?” He had a disgruntled tone.

Brows furrowing at his statement, you repeated yourself. “I wanted to return his wallet. He dropped it at the gym and I thought I would give it to him. I mean it's not like it was out of my way or anything." You gestured to your home and sent him a hopefully pleasant grin.

Narrowing his eyes at the house. He wonder what else his familiar could be keeping from him. “I see, let me call for him.” Facing into the house, he said. “Guillermo, there is a visitor at the door.” Side eyeing the crew, he waited.

You both waited for him to return. Nandor took the time to admire you for a moment longer. While you were excited, yet confused, to learn about your friend's housemates. This honestly wasn't the situation you thought he was living in. Still it seemed that he helped the people he stayed with.

He jogged to the front, but slowed his stride at the sight in front of him. Two of the people he never wanted to meet, standing beside each other. His heart began racing. You being here was as surprising as you not being dead. The way his Master reacted to your scent. He belived if the vampire ever got downwind of you, it would be your end. Instead he was gazing down at you in wonder.

“Hey, I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.” You sheepishly shifted your gazed to Nandor, then quickly back to him. “I just wanted to make sure you got this.” Holding the wallet out to him, you were happy to see the relief that spread across his face.

Taking it from your hand, he embraced you. “I can't believe you found it. Thank you (Y/N).” Shifting back, he was surprised to see the angry look on his Master's face.

“It's nothing really. You must have dropped it and when I happened to find it outside of the locker rooms. Well, I didn't think it would be a problem to drop it off. Not like it's a long trip or anything.” Grinning you pat his back.

Nandor stepped a bit closer to you. It seemed his familiar had grown close to what should be HIS. He had only known you a few moments. But he felt a possessiveness clawing at his insides. “Yes, she was just telling me about your time together at the gym. It has made my interest in the location grow. I should like to join you at your next session.”

Guillermo's eyes pleaded for you to say no. Knowing you though, there was no way that you would reject someone without a reason.

“Sure, the more the merrier.” Noticing how dark the sky had gotten, you stepped towards the door. “Text me the details Guillermo, I've got to get to my grandfather.”

Both men waved as you left. Each dreading you departure for very different reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next gym trip was an interesting one. You didn't expect Nandor to show up in only a pair of tight ornate pants. But if that was what put him in the mood for a good burn, then who were you to judge. It also didn't hurt that it made it that much easier to observe him. His muscles twitching and veins pulsing. All while he lifted over five time your body weight. Well it didn't take long for the more steamy thoughts of what his muscle could help with.

He was thoroughly enjoying his time with you. It was a nice change to have a workout partner. Watching as you pushed your body and strengthen yourself. It was enough to make him go wild. How could something be so soft yet ferice? If only he didn't have to share you.

“That's great Guillermo, just one more press.” You loved to encourage him. IT always seemed to help him push to new heights.

Noticing the vampire sneer from the corner of his eye, he shook his head. “No. I can't keep going.”

Your smile faultered. He was shaking and his breath was pretty labored. Sliding behind him, you positioned your hands under the barbell. “OK. If you want to burnout, I've got you.” Nodding down at him, you prepared for the worst.

He felt guilty for worrying you. Until he saw his Master holding back a hiss. So he moved the weights and focused on you instead. The only person whose treated him like a human. No, a friend, in a long time. Taking all his frustration out on his muscles.

That is if his sweaty palms didn't slip from the barbell. You caught it, but a sickening pop came from your shoulder. Crying out, you lurched backwards to keep the weight from falling on him.

The vampire sprung into action. One hand pulling the equipment from you. He cradled you against him with the other. Touching your shoulder, he was relieved to see that it only seemed strained. Though his frown deepen at the way your breath hitched. He whipped towards the other man. “You idiot, were you trying to kill her. You know how fragile humans are.”

He barely paid the vampire any mind. “I'm so sorry (Y/N). Are you ok? What am I saying, of course your not.” He began to pace.

You placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Hey, it's OK. I think it's only strained.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'll just have to stick to legs for a bit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after offering to take you to Urgent Care and paying. You still insisted that you were fine. That an ice pack and some sleep would do the trick. That didn't stop the men from escorting you home.

Guillermo rushed into their house, trying his best to ignore his Master. It did little good.

“You are a reckless idiot. How could you let her get injured. You should have let those weights crush you.” He followed him through the house. Pushong passed the crew, irritated. Watching as he rifled amongst his things, the Vampire grew enraged. “Are you even listening to me!”

Swinging around to face the taller man, he was red with anger. “How could I not. Look i know I screwed up. That's why I'm getting my heating pad. Alternating between heat and cold should help her recover faster.” Then he quickly walked to the front door.

Nandor enjoyed the thought of you healing faster. But frown at Guillermo being the one to cause it. “Then we will take it to her together.”

The familiar came to a sudden stop. “No, I'm going to see MY friend. If all of this is my fault, then I should be the one to take care of it.”

Glaring down at the shorter man, he could feel his nail digging into his palms. “That is why I should go. To make sure you don't kill them.”

His face became a blank mask to shroud his emotions. As calmly as he could manage he said. “Actually Master, I think you have a much better chance of taking their life. Now if you don't mind, I have something to see to. Including not worrying about being invited inside her home.” He left swiftly.

A fact that Nandor was both angry and relieved by. Huffing he went to confide in the only man in the house that was successful in love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Swaying through the air as a bat. He couldn't help but curse at having taken Laszlo's advice. How could he be stupid enough to believe that drinking from intoxicated humans would help. Now he was over thinking what you and his betrayal of a familiar were doing.

Veering away from his own home, he transformed back on your lawn. Stumbling to the front door, he didn't notice the light beginning to spill over the horizon. He called out to you, loudly wailing.

Making your way to the entrance, you were confused why someone would be here so early. That someone being a distraught Nandor was a surprise. Rubbing a hand across your face, you tried to focus on the situation.

He admired how your pajamas fit you. Taking a moment to try to commit the sight to memory. He attempted to throw himself into your embraced. But was halted by the very curse that Guillermo had thrown in his face. “Why must we be torn from each other?”

Staring at the man in bewilderment, you stepped forward. “Nandor, what are you talking about?”

He fell forward and wrapped his strong arms around you. Feeling your soft body fit against him pleasantly. “We are so different. You a human and me a vampire. You care for people, while I only think of them as food. Guillermo is right, I'm not good enough.”

Frowning at his drunken rambling, you heaved him towards your door. “I'm not sure what your getting on about. But why don't I get you some water and on the couch. Come on, let's get inside.”

He wiggled out of your arms, as much as he didn't want to. “No, you should be near me. I'm a monster that could kill you at any moment.” He turned to head home, but shrieked as the first rays of light hit his skin.

Shock ran through you. It felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over you. You let instinct take over as you yanked him inside. Flinging the door shut, you went to check over his burns. After seeing they were only minor wounds, you smiled. “OK, so that wasn't just the booze talking.”

“No, I would not lie to you, you are to precious. Even now you have saved a monster like me." He took your hands into his own and leaned forward.

You met his lips in a tender kiss. Pressing your forehead against his own, you took in a shuddering breath.

“Is everything OK? I thought I heard…. oh for christ's sake!” There stood a disheveled Guillermo, a frown tugging at his lips. When he brought you the heating pad earlier he seemed so upset. You decided to invited him to stay over. But with the situation at hand, you didn't consider calling out to him for help. “You couldn't even wait another day to make a move. This is so like you, taking without considering others feelings.”

“Hey that's not fair. She obviously likes me.” Almost falling over himself to stand up and face the other man. “Why must you stand in the way of love?”

The familiar stepped forward and shoved a finger into his chest. “Because you're a killer that falls in love every other month.”

You had stood to the side stunned. You didn't realise the impact you had made on their lives until now. As you thought about it, you knew that you felt the same. It would hurt your heart to not have these men in your life.

Stepping between them, you took a breath to steady yourself. “I'd like a say in this. Being that I am the subject of the fight after all.” Placing a hand on each of their chest, you smiled reassuringly. “I'm a big girl. If I want to be friends with someone. Or date someone, it's my choice in the end.” You gave each of them a pointed look that caused their masculine ego to deflate.

Guillermo was the first to speak. “What if you break up? You won't want anything to do with things that remind you of Nandor…. Including me.”

The desperation in his voice broke your heart. You brought him into a tight hug. “You can't predict what the future might bring. But I can promise you that I don't veiw you as an extension of Nandor. So the chances of me not wanting to be around you aren't happening.”

He sniffled as you seperated. “Thanks, that's reassuring to hear.”

Turning to the Vampire, you patted his chest. “Nandor, I like you, a lot. But let's take things slow. It's obvious that there's still something that we need to learn about one another.”

He gave you a wide grin. “As long as it is time I get to spend with. Then I am happy.”

Guiding everyone to the couch, you made sure they both were comfortable. A simle settled on your face. Settling on top of Nandor and pulling Guillermo onto yourself. A calm washed over your heart. Things may get rocky, but you guys could figure it out together in time.

#what we do in the shadows #chubby reader #nandor the relentless #chubby reader x nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #vampire #familiar #moving #implied/referenced character death #love at first sight #mutual pining #fights #minor injury #romance #fluff

19 notes · View notes