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punkfloweranarchy · 10 months

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Hobie and Miles on a mission/fighting a baddie together. Shit goes wrong. Really, really wrong. Like, building collapses on top of them and there’s no way out kind of wrong.

And, of course, Miles is impaled on some rebarb or something; bleeding out slowly but also way too fast, with Hobie pinned on top of him (with a few cracked ribs and other various injuries of his own, of course) and very little wiggle room to work with.

They think they’re going to die there, trapped and bruised and bleeding, but hey — at least they’re together.

And, of course, Miles thinks this is the best time to confess all the feelings he’s been bottling up for the past couple years and Hobie has to lay there and listen to Miles wax poetry about him in the round about way he’s so good at, avoiding the three words Hobie most desperately wants needs hopes to hear; all the while coughing up blood and wheezing for breath and Hobie is sure that his heart tearing itself to shreds is going to kill him before his injuries or the lack of oxygen will because this can’t be happening. They’ve wasted so much time waiting for the right moment and pushing down their feelings when they could have been happy and together the whole damn time and it’s too much for Hobie to comprehend.

So he almost refuses to confess himself. He almost convinces himself that, yet again, now is not the time. That as soon as they get out, when they’re healed up and away from this nightmare, then he’ll tell Miles how much he’s loved him for the past two years and they’ll get their time to be happy and in love and together.

But Miles is fading, his breaths becoming more shallow with every passing moment and Hobie knows they’re out of time. There will be no ‘later’. He only has now. And he refuses to spend their last moments with the words lingering heavy at the back of his throat, choking him. So he lets them out, finally. And finally, he can breathe for the first time in two years.

“I love you, Miles.” His voice is wrecked and his throat is so so tight with the repressed ache to sob or scream or choke or or or…

Miles smiles: beautiful, brilliant, heart-wrenchingly happy. It fills Hobie up with such a violent vortex of emotions he feels like the one who’s bleeding out, guts and heart so raw and exposed he can barely breathe.

“I love you too, Hobie. Thank you.”

Hobie sputters out a laugh because of course Miles would be the type to say ‘thank you’ after a love confession. The laugh turns into a breaking sob when he realizes again where they are and what Miles is really thanking him for: not waiting, not letting him go without saying it. For making his last moments ones filled with love and tenderness. Hobie wants to scream at the unfairness of it all. He wants something tangible to fight, to blame, to make feel all the pain that he’s feeling right now.

But all he can do is hold Miles and tell him over and over again how much he loves him so Miles doesn’t have to spend a second longer wondering.

#…#and then Gwen and Peter and Miguel show up and rescue them!#all better :’)#sorry this is so SAD #maybe maybe maybe i’ll write a full fic (with a happy ending ofc) but we shall see if i can handle the emotional damage #char: miles morales #char: hobie brown #vee’s soapbox #vee’s drabbles #spiderverse #ship: punkflower #atsv #punkflower #punkflower drabble #tw: blood #tw: mentions of blood #tw: implied character death

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oneoftheeggs · 22 days

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Lucifer bridal carrying Adam. Y/N?

Lucifer bridal carrying Adam, coming up!

[I do know what Y/N stands for, but I am not sure what it means in this context 😅 or, are you just referring to me?]

Anyway! Here we go (I hope this is at least decent - I wrote this after the third day at a con with way too little sleep - truth be told, I don't know if you wanted me to write something in the first place, but I was inspired! Also... oops, it got a little sad)

Lucifer didn’t know what had compelled him to take another look at Adam’s body. Maybe it had been simple curiosity. Maybe he had wanted to see if in his final moments Adam had been the man he had been in live or the monster he had become in death. Maybe he had just wanted to take a little break from rebuilding the hotel, to try and collect his thoughts and taking a step away, to look at the corpse, had been a welcome excuse. Either way, he had made his way to Adam and decided to look at him for but a moment. Sooner or later, they would need to get rid of the body. At least that’s what Lucifer was thinking, as he knelt on one knee, to take a closer look. Adam’s face, covered in blood and bruises, seemed almost peaceful. His eyes were closed, his hands still resting on the ground next to him, where they had fallen to, when his lieutenant had turned his body around to try and reach him in his final moments.

His chest, punctured by multiple small stab wounds, rose, and sank slowly with labored, shallow, breaths. His-

Wait what?

Lucifer did a double take, but even that changed nothing. Adam’s chest was indeed rising and sinking. Even as golden blood seeped out of him, drop by drop, the first man stubbornly refused to die. Lucifer blinked in confusion. He had been sure that Adam had died, when Niffty had stabbed him. And even if not, surely the time, between receiving the injury and now, must have been enough to have him bleed out.

And still, despite everything, despite all logic, Adam was still clinging to life. Still holding on to, well, something. Even though Lucifer couldn’t tell what exactly that something was.

“You’re still here.” It wasn’t a question. Hell, Lucifer hadn’t meant to say those words at all, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. That was why he was even more confused when Adam blinked his eyes open. They were unfocused, staring blindly towards the sky. Towards heaven that seemed unreachable, far away. And unreachable it was. Even if Adam wasn’t dead, he had lost his halo. Lucifer wasn’t sure if Adam could return to Heaven, even if he was able to fly. Adam blinked again, and his eyes didn’t turn to Lucifer, but he answered his words, still.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He grumbled wetly. Lucifer was sure he could hear the blood in his chest. He couldn’t help but agree. It was ironic. Adam, who had come here to rain death upon them, was now, as it seemed, himself unable to die. Why exactly Lucifer couldn’t tell. But he was quite sure, that a certain powerful being, that had created them all, had his fingers in the mix. And if that was the case, then Lucifer could not let Adam lie out here on the pavement. That was certain. Or, at least, it was, what Lucifer told himself. Dammit all, he hadn’t wanted Adam to die in the first place. Sure, he had lost his temper, when Adam had the audacity to attack his daughter, but that would have been any father’s reaction. Still, Charlie had given him hope that maybe, just maybe, Heaven could be reasoned with. Hope, that maybe, what had been lost, could be regained.

He had loved Adam once, half an eternity ago. And a part of him loved Adam still. Hell, they, Lilith, Adam, even Eve, had been created to be loved. And something like that could not vanish entirely. His love for the man had withered away, year after year, but it had never fully stopped. And seeing Adam, lying there, more man than monster, had reawoken something in Lucifer that he had believed to have died a long time ago.

Lucifer sighed softly, before deciding what to do next. With arms, stronger than humanly possible for a man of his stature – he wasn’t a human after all – Lucifer swiftly cradled Adam to his chest. At least as much, as his height would allow it. He could feel the Angel grow rigid in his touch. But he wouldn’t let that deter him. One arm supporting Adam’s back, the other lifting him from beneath his knees, Lucifer tried not to jostle the injured man too much. It didn’t work perfectly, and Adam emitted a pained gasp, followed by a few coughs that brought new speckles of golden blood to his lips.

“What?” he started asking, before being interrupted by another coughing fit.

Lucifer shook his head, silently commanding Adam to safe his energy. “You’ll be fine,” he said, instead of answering Adam’s question. The man didn’t seem to believe him. He shook his head, as good as he could.

“Are you fucking serious.” He hissed. Lucifer didn’t say anything. He just opened a portal to one of his chambers in the palace and started walking.

“Fucking stop that shit!” Adam hissed. “Put me down. Just let me lie here.”

Lucifer shook his head. “No,” he answered stubbornly. As he stepped through the portal. “There’s another way.”

Adam emitted an ugly sound. Something that might have been a laugh had it not sounded, so much, like he was biting back a sob.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Adam accused. “You never cared before!”

Lucifer said nothing. He knew that disagreeing would not make Adam see reason. His silence was answered by more labored words from the injured man in his arms. “Why now?” he hissed. “Why do you pretend to care now? Still haven’t got everything you wanted, is that it?”

A fist came to connect with Lucifer’s shoulder, but the punch was weak. All energy having seeped from Adam’s body with his blood.

“This is your fault!” Adam accused, and Lucifer hummed in agreement. Maybe it was his fault after all. Maybe nothing of this would have happened if he had stayed one of God's obedient little playthings. Or maybe another angel would have simply taken his place. Another hit connected with his shoulder.

“I hate you!” Adam’s words were full of poison, despite his weakened state. Lucifer sighed, as he carried him towards the room, he saw fit to house the man for the near future.

“I know,” he said, a sad smile playing around his lips. “Trust me. I know.”

#adamsapple #adam hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel one shot #tw: mentions of blood #tw: mention of death #answered #lucifer go carry your man!

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farfromstrange · 1 month

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Today, I randomly decided to donate blood because we have a new pop up in my city, and I haven’t donated in a while. Plus, I have a blood type that blood banks always like to see because it’s almost entirely universal (I think the only blood type that can’t accept blood from me is 0 negative—the actual universal donor).

Giving blood is always an experience for me because I take antidepressants and I’m known to have low iron, so it’s always a surprise to find out whether or not I can actually donate after they check my hemoglobin and the doctor checks my medical history. Today I passed, so I got to donate. Thankfully. Otherwise, I would have been embarrassed to walk back out.

I sat there, and since I bleed very easily, it went by quickly, so I grab my snacky snack and then I was already good to leave again. No problem.

Anyway! To get to the point:

A few hours later, all I can think about is Matt coming with you to the blood bank because you’ve decided you want to donate (he’s well aware of your medical history) and he’s worried about your health. The entire experience would probably be a lot for his heightened senses because of the smells and the noise and all the elevated heartbeats, but he would tag along for your sake. In my head, he would just hover and be a concerned as fuck boyfriend because he’s so attuned to the changes in your body, he would notice everything.

He would probably check in on you every five seconds and pamper you after, but you’d be so chill about it because once you have your snack and get your blood sugar back up, you’re fine; your arm just hurts a little, but that’s normal. That sort of thing.

I can’t stop thinking about it, so now I kind of want to write a One Shot about this particular scenario…

#lizzi talks #tw: mentions of blood #i get the weirdest ideas in the weirdest of places #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock scenario #charlie cox #fic idea

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pastafossa · 2 months

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Ok so I accidentally stabbed myself while wood carving, just like I did a few years ago. The scenario was damn near identical: my knife hit a knot in the wood, and skipped from the wood to the meaty bit of my hand. Last time this happened I needed 7 stitches at the ER, and it cut deep then because, no surprise, a knife sharp enough to cut wood has no problem with skin and muscle. But I'm not in the ER this time, because there was one VERY important difference.

I had my no cut gloves on.

6 bucks was literally the difference between an ER trip and being able to stay home.

I have two bloody punctures on my hand, one quite painful admittedly, where the knife tip got through the kevlar fibers. That still sucks and I'm grumbling about it because it hurts like a motherfucker even now that the bleeding stopped. But honestly? I'll take it compared to the alternative, the reminder of which sits right next to my bandaids.

Never underestimate what a few bucks for safety can do for you.

#i love woodcarving but never underestimate a sharp knife #EVER #the fact that the identical thing happened and the only difference was the gloves #is proof of concept #it still sucks and my hand hurts like hell but i'll take it compared to the alternative #tw: mentions of blood #tw: injury

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contrivedchaos · 2 months

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How do you think Carmilla would react to Valentino approaching her girls like he did Charlie when she went to interfere?

“Valentino? Never heard of him. That pile of blood and entrails on the floor? That’s always been there .”

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #carmilla hazbin hotel #carmilla hazbin #ask #anon #fan theories #tw: hazbin valentino bashing #tw: mentions of death #tw: mentions of blood

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shylighthi · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 2: Delirium

Wild focuses on keeping his breathing steady as he stirs the pot. He's not sure when but members of the chain started to look odd from the corner of his eye. Gray patches of color, he tried to ignore it, thinking about sleeping once he was done.

Wild did everything in his power to not show them that he knew there was something wrong.

They weren't his brothers.

This wasn't the chain.

Ao3 Link here

This is based on @kikker-oma 's comic that is linked here

#posted in full on Ao3 #tw: mentions of blood #tw: character passes out #tw: character is delirious and ends up minorly hurting someone else #legend of zelda #linked universe #lu wild #lu fanfiction #whumptober 2023 #whumptober

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ficmesideways · 2 months

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Request for Anonymous

Gif Source: Hannibal

Imagine being married to Hannibal and finding out a boy laid hands on your teenage niece

------- Imagine -------

It wasn’t as beautiful, as elegant as the man who had just walked in would have made it. There was too much splatter, too much mess; where your husband was the calm, you were the storm. You let your rage and fury guide your hands in every situation, and unfortunately with that, blood splatter and struggle were a norm. Hannibal looked at the scene in front of him, your nearly naked body streaked in red as piles of what was left of whoever had harmed your family cooled at your feet. You cleared your throat sheepishly, always embarrassed after one of your episodes. “I uh…I actually did save a few good pieces, took my time getting those for you but then…then I, ..well…” You gestured around you just then realizing the bloody hammer you still held in your hand. Your husband only smiled in the quiet way of his before looking directly in your eyes. “Well done my love.”

#my imagines #gifs not mine #female reader #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal imagine #tw: mentions of blood #tw: canon typical violence #tw: violence #tw: gore #tw: blood

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bnha-more-like-bnh-gay · 2 years

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Mic: kid, you need to go to the hospital!

Shouto, v*miting bl**d: it’s fine, I just do this sometimes

Mic:

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dreaming-of-lu · 2 years

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Hurt comfort with Time and/or Warriors? 🥺👉👈 (also hi i love your art and writing btw :) )

A/N: Hiya! Thank you, I'm happy to know you love my art and writing! 💚 If I'm correct, you're asking for them separately. If not, you can always resend the ask in when the askbox is open.

Warriors is longer than Time, omg.

TW: mentions of blood, arguing, bit of blaming

Time

"I should've grabbed you out of harm's way," Time tightly gripped your hand against his forehead. Anguish ran deep in his veins as watery eyes stared harshly at the heavy wound that framed your side, running up your chest and close to your neck. Dirty bandages that were slowly becoming soiled needed a change soon. He didn't like how pale your face was; the sickening, ashy color ailed him.

Your brows bunched up, sweat dripped from your forehead down your neck, chest slowly heaving; if only he could erase the pain that racks your figure every so while. He silently cursed the being who brought enemies from the group own Hyrule's forth, swearing under his breath that he shall cut them down with such vengeance. It was supposed to be a simple battle, but they all weren't expecting another ambush from above. It happened so suddenly.

It felt like everything slowed when Time turned around to witness you sliced up the side; he could never forget the pained yell that left you, the shocked look painting your features, numbly watching you stumbled forward while the others quickly jumped to aid you. Blood poured making Time to quickly move and catch you before you fall onto the dirt, it framed his hands. Oh goddesses, your blood framed his hands, he can’t stop staring. Numbing cold swept down his neck and spine.

Everything was a blur afterward; there may have been a few panicky shouts and yelling, some of his own added into the haze. A deeply startled innkeeper, shaky hands, the clinking of bottles and muffled sobs with hushed reassurances. How he loathe it.

"There was nothing you could do, Link."

Time shot up in his seat; you were awake. Tired eyes bore into his own, his brows furrowed,

"I still sho-" you weakly placed a single finger against his lips and grimaced.

"None of us expected it. Could've, should've, would've will not solve anything. Getting all worked up about it will not change it either. We know this; we're both in this together; we knew what we signed up for during this adventure."

"It doesn't make this any better," he mumbled. You lifted his chin to make him look at you.

"No, it never won't and never will. I am still kicking; call it dumb luck or whatever you want, but that's all that matters." You slide your hand against his cheek, watching with a warming heart as he nuzzled into it and placed a gentle kiss on the palm.

"When did you get so wise?" He huffed humorlessly. You tiredly smirked,

"Someone gotta be."

Warriors

Warriors hung his head as Wind ignored him again. The sailor would puff his cheeks and turn his head before wandering over to you. He knew what he did was wrong; the repeated words in his head stung him worse than Volga's fire back at home. He should've apologized by now, but curses, pride was overbearing him, arguing that he was in the right! The other side was yearning, begging him to give in and listen, but he couldn't bring himself to utter a word in your direction. Warriors rub the back of his neck, heavily sighing, thinking back to the argument that happened days before.

"Why did you do that?" Warrior's harsh glare made you flinch back. Your brows furrowed, tilting your head to the side, eyes flickering back and forth before settling on him again.

"What did I do?" you arched a brow as he huffed and threw his hands up.

"Unbelievable; I'm not falling for this again; you know what you did!" His hands rested on his hips as he leaned forwards into your space, close enough to your face that you leaned back as his glare became harsher. You blinked with wide eyes at the sudden accusation.

"Wars, cut it out; I'm being serious either tell me what's going on, or else I'm walking away from this conversation until you calm down." You hissed, eyes becoming glassy, hands curled into tight fists, your shoulders and lips shaking.

"Whatever, keep up with the delusions," Warriors spun on his heel with his scarf trailing behind him in haste. Your face burned as tears spilled down your cheeks, catching the attention of an idling worried Sky.

"Nothing, don't worry about it, Sky." you croaked.

He should've explained.

"Ya know," Legend dropped into the seat beside Warriors that Wind had long left, "the more you keep this up, the more this will possibly descend into another argument that will leave everything more damaged than ever."

"Can you not?" Warriors grumbled. Legend runs a tired hand down the side of his face and groans,

"My goddesses, you're way worse than a stubborn mule."

Warriors shoot a warning glare at the veteran; Legend reciprocated with his own.

"Why do you care about this? This spat between them and me has nothing to do with you!"

"Well, sadly, dear captain, it now involves everyone here; you're sitting here, looking pitful and sighing like a forlorn lover each time they walk past you without a glance. Whatever the argument is, it's getting old, and let go of your pride and talk it out with them." Legend gets up from the spot to let the captain think his words over.

Warriors shook his head, knowing the vet was right. He silently prayed to the goddesses above to give him strength for the upcoming conversation he would have with you. He willed himself up from his spot over to you, where you had a happy Wind chatting to you and Hyrule about his adventures. Laughter rang out between the two of you while Wind pouted; he suddenly felt shy. It dwindled as he shuffled forward, your blank stare nerved him, and he gave a small bleak smile.

“Can I speak to you alone, (Y/n)?”

You nodded quietly and followed behind him but not before reassuring a worried Wind. He brings you away from the group, not too far from sight though enough for privacy. Warriors fidgeted underneath your gaze; he breathed a heavy breath and looked you in the eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, I should've explained to you instead of accusing you for no reason."

"Correct," you quipped, causing him to cringe inwardly.

"And I know the apology will probably not be enough for you, and I want to make things right with you again." He watched with a bated breath as you sighed, looking away from him.

"That truly hurt, you know," you began, "when I was begging for you to explain the reason behind your accusation, you brushed me off, and I thought that was it."

Warriors bit his lip,

"I-"

"I'm not done yet," you interrupted him with a hand raised, "I will accept your apology, but you have to prove to me you are sorry, Link. You can prove to by letting me have some space tonight after this and cuddles tomorrow."

Warriors softly beams,

"Of course, anything for you."

"Thank you, now, please, explain to me what happened."

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse x reader #lu time x reader #lu warriors x reader #.bea's writing #tw: mentions of blood #tw: arguing #tw: bit of blaming

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whaleiumsharkspeare · 4 months

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I’m going to a 3-day church conference tomorrow but I’m kind of nervous because the last time I went on one the following things all happened during the same week:

I got food poisoning on the first day but didn’t realize that’s what it was so I kept it to myself and just suffered all week

My ear had been hurting all week and the one day it didn’t I touched my ear and it started bleeding

Somebody stole my wristband I needed to get into the sessions and I had to sing a Bible verse in order to get a new one

The girl I was paired with for the buddy system almost drowned in the choppy waters of Lake Michigan because she ignored me pointing out the rip current signs. Luckily she was okay because she was rescued by my stalker

Which oh yeah by the way I was stalked by some boy who followed me everywhere I went and tried to ask me out after knowing me for a day. I said no

All of this is happening while I’m suffering from the aforementioned food poisoning

So yeah I’m kind of nervous so praying friends of tumblr, please pray for a good and far less eventful conference 💕

#Christians of tumblr #christianity #prayer request #tw: mentions of blood #tw: mentions of drowning

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jessybarnes · 1 year

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For those that are following the story... here is an update on Jeremy Renner.... I hope he pulls through... 🥺

Putting it under a cut for trigger warnings. Warnings for mentions of injury and blood.

#j snow talks #jeremy renner #tw: mentions of blood #tw: mentions of injury #clint hawkeye barton #hawkeye #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mayor of kingstown

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letsquestjess · 1 year

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Blood Daughter - Chapter 1: Beacon

Story Summary: After Kallar Viren flees the Empire, his daughter sets out to find him, only to discover he has been taken by Imperials. With help from Clone Force 99, Zeraphine pushes through her losses in a race against the clock to rescue her father or face the galaxy as the last of her family.

Warnings: Mention of blood and injury.

A/N: Happy May the Fourth everyone! I'm so excited to finally be able to introduce Zeraphine and Amelina (and some oc clones later on in the story)! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter. Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated.

Chapter 2

-- -- -- -- --

Warning alarms howled their persistent cry, rising and falling in a series of undulating screeches. Emergency lights span in their casings and bathed the interior in a deathly crimson glow.

A flood of smoke burst from the pipes and Zeraphine lifted her jacket collar over her mouth and nose, suppressing a cough at the acrid stench of fuel reserves and maintenance oil. “Secondary engine is completely shot,” she choked as she careened into the cockpit. “There’s some juice left in the emergency generator, but I don’t know if it’s enough to get us out of this.”

“Only one way to find out,” Amelina sighed, her arm slung around her waist and the other gripping the steering controls. In a manoeuvre that would have made even the most expert of pilots nauseous, she jerked the wheel sideways and spiralled them out of a surge of turret fire.

Imperial ships shrieked behind them, hunting with unstoppable fervour. Every ruse to evade them failed until, with absolute reckless abandon, she threw caution to the cruelty of space and alternated between intense turns and dizzying loops. Mostly, they allowed her to dodge the projectiles, but it wasn’t enough to escape the enemy crafts.

The radar lit up with at least half a dozen emergency dots, each fresh scan chiming until she silenced them with a quick slam of her fist. “Reckon you could get a warning beacon ready?” she asked, peering up at her sister hunched over the console and gawking at the approaching asteroid field. “I should be able to keep us steady for a minute.”

Zeraphine dragged herself from the worrying view outside and tottered through the violent trembles to cling to the control panel behind her. She plucked a beacon from the overhead unit and inserted it into the launch tube. Once the system registered the device, she started the recording. “This is Zeraphine Viren of light craft AV-1836-2,” she spoke clearly, ignoring the tremor of her heart and the erratic shudder of the ship. “Do not enter the sector. Heavy Imperial presence. I repeat, heavy Imperial presence. Stay away from the sector.”

She ended the broadcast and linked it to the beacon, tapping her foot against the grated flooring as though it would hurry the process along. “Ready for launch.”

“Hold on,” Amelina instructed, her free hand flitting back and forth between the switches above her and the control wheel. “Just a little longer…”

The readings bounced, and trying to grunt away the searing pain flaring up her left hip, she input the codes to shield the beacon frequency. The line flattened and the tiny device rocketed from the tube.

Zeraphine hopped back into the co-pilot seat to track its trajectory. After a tense minute, it attached itself to the underside of a revolving asteroid and confirmed an active signal. “It’s in place. Have the Imperials picked it up?”

“Don’t think so. They flew straight past.”

“At least it will keep any wandering rebels safe.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if a few ignored it,” Amelina said with a snort. “You know what some of them are like.”

“Brave?”

“I was going to say far too foolhardy for their own good, but brave works as well.”

Rivers of smoke poured from the rear of the ship and triggered a second set of alarms. Zeraphine shot up and slammed the fire suppression button on the emergency panel by the exit ramp. Several jets of extinguishing fluid sprayed from the ceiling and soothed the flickers enough for her to get a better look at the protesting machine. “What are the readings for the communications unit?” she called.

“About as much use as a dismantled droid.”

Grumbling to herself, Zeraphine carefully inched her hand into the crumpled hatch, recoiling at the sparks and pinching the casing of the snipped cable. Adding in a set of clamps, she locked it in place and steadied her arm against another sickening jolt.

As she wrenched the tool, a hissing torrent of steam engulfed her forearm and etched a path of painful burns up past her elbow.

“Leave it,” Amelina told her, casting a concerned glance over her shoulder as her sister rashly worked to repair the dying craft. “You’re only going to hurt yourself even more.”

“If we don’t get the communications unit back online, how will we call for help?”

Amelina didn’t have the heart to tell her there was little chance of help. Sweat trickled down her temples, clinging to her short midnight strands, and she gasped with each laboured breath. The ship was becoming increasingly difficult to control, and even if she managed to land it without killing them both, the Imperials would be on them quicker than they could blink. With her injury added to the mix, their odds of survival decreased even more.

“Lina?”

Her eyes shot open and adrenaline pumped an excruciating awareness through her veins. She squinted down at Zeraphine knelt beside her, slowly uncurling the clenched fingers compressing the bloodied bandages. Layer by layer, her sister removed them and winced at the deep gash opening up the left side of her abdomen. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Amelina said.

“Tell that to your face,” Zeraphine quipped, grabbing the first aid box from the console storage compartment and staring at the meagre contents. “We’re out of bacta pads, but there are some wipes and fresh gauzes.”

“I’m sure once we’re away from the Imperials we can pick up some more,” Amelina laughed. Her amusement evaporated when she caught the anxious expression on her younger sister’s features, and a hiss whistled through her teeth at the cold wipe pressed against her side. “You could have warned me before you did that.”

“Stop squirming, and I’ll get this done quicker,” Zeraphine said. As she cleared the crusted patches of blood, she spotted prickled blotches and forked paths creeping from the cut and into healthy tissue. She pressed the back of her fingers to it. “Are you feverish?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have a fever?”

“What are you talking about?” Amelina panted. “No, I’m fine. Why?”

“There are signs of infection in your wound.”

Amelina paused. Another direct hit rocked the ship, but she didn’t feel it. “Zera, we are crash landing,” she said sternly, her previous light-hearted tone gone. “There is no time to be tending to my injuries.”

“There is always time,” Zeraphine insisted. “Now hold still.”

* * *

“I told you this wasn’t the right route,” Crosshair said, folding his arms and glowering at his brother.

“We’re not heading the wrong way,” Hunter insisted. “The navigation computer reported this part of the system was empty.”

“And I told you it wasn’t, yet here we are facing an asteroid field.” To prove his point, Crosshair swept a flat palm towards the floating specks in their path. He rolled his toothpick to the other side of his mouth before removing it, inspecting the blunted end and flicking it into the recycling unit.

At the console behind the cockpit, Echo analysed the stream of data from outside the Marauder. The band of asteroids spanned hundreds of klicks, forming an almost impenetrable barrier between them and their onward destination. “Don’t know why it wasn’t registering before, but the system is pretty clear now. They’re not too densely packed, so there might be a way through.”

“I am running the estimations,” Tech called from the pilot seat.

“Negative,” Hunter said. “I’m not chancing it.”

“Any other bright ideas?” Crosshair challenged, staring pointedly at the Batch’s leader.

Hunter returned the glare, daring him to make another biting comment. In the silence, he mulled over alternative options. The navigation system had been struggling for some time, but it had never been this incorrect and they’d managed to compensate for small discrepancies in the past. But now it had brought them to a rocky belt and more disagreements.

“Fine,” he huffed, begrudgingly accepting that he shouldn’t have delayed the repairs and allowed his over-cautious worries of remaining stationary for too long to fog his judgement. “I’ll admit that on this occasion, Crosshair, you were right. Still doesn’t get us out of this mess.”

“It may be possible to double back,” Tech suggested, assessing the information filtering across his datapad and running a scan for alternate routes. “Unfortunately, this will mean missing the designated pickup time for the supplies.”

As the others directed the blame at anyone other than themselves, Echo continued his examination of Tech’s proposed solutions. He explored the sector a few klicks away, and the transmission radar let out three successive beeps. The connecting light fluttered. “Got an incoming signal from the asteroid field. Patching it through, Tech.”

The Batch abandoned their dispute and stayed quiet long enough to appease their curiosity. They all crowded into the cockpit and watched the receiver process the transmission. Turret fire infused the background of the audio as it hissed through the speakers.

“This is Zeraphine Viren of light craft AV-1836-2. Do not enter the sector. Heavy Imperial presence. I repeat, heavy Imperial presence. Stay away from the sector.” The recording replayed, and Tech muted the broadcast.

“Doesn’t seem like there are any Imperials anymore,” Echo said, breaking the tense lull.

“Zeraphine Viren?” Wrecker mused. “As in Commander Zeraphine?”

“The beacon was launched from a light craft registered to Amelina Viren,” Tech replied, already working on pinpointing any remnant signals and frequencies. “It would be appropriate to presume the woman in the recording is Commander Zeraphine.”

“But what was she doing all the way out here?” Echo asked.

“Getting shot at, by the sounds of it,” Crosshair answered. He slanted discreetly to catch the information appearing on Tech’s datapad.

“I don’t understand,” Omega said, the crease between her eyebrows growing as she listened. “Who is Commander Zeraphine?”

Hunter shuffled his weight to the edge of the seat and rested his elbows on his thighs. “She worked with clone intelligence during the war and joined us on a few missions. We knew her squad well.”

“They were the nice regs,” Wrecker chortled. “Always up for a laugh.”

“Her older sister, Amelina, aided our tacticians,” Hunter continued, trying to clear his mind of the mischief Wrecker and Zeraphine’s small unit had caused when they’d shared shore leave on Kamino.

“So they were Jedi?” Omega ventured, recalling what her brothers had told her of the war.

“Not exactly. But they were both skilled in their field and did a lot to help.”

“According to the ship’s logs, both sisters were on board. They made landfall on a nearby planet called Ciraden,” Tech reported. His eyes narrowed as he studied the charts. “Their signal cut out three rotations ago, but I have managed to determine the coordinates of the craft.”

Pushing his hip from the side of Tech’s chair, Crosshair took in the data illuminating several screens on the console. “How likely is it they survived?”

“Admittedly, the chance is slim,” Tech responded. “There are no outgoing frequencies to alert potential rescuers of their survival, but there could be many reasons for that. One being that they did not survive the crash.”

“Imperials on their tail being another,” Echo said from the navi-computer. “There’s no sign of the Empire. At least nothing coming up on the radar.”

The ship fell into a solemn silence. Similar anxieties troubled each of them, crowding the nostalgic stillness with a sense of duty and friendship.

“As long as we’re all in agreement,” Hunter sighed, “and providing there is a safe route through this asteroid field, we should at least check for survivors and recover what we can.”

One after the other, his brothers offered their approval, and a sombre quiet descended at the prospect of potentially having to bury more friends. Hunter felt the same. Zeraphine and Amelina had shown them a care and solidarity they’d all cherished during the conflict. But if they had fallen, they deserved to be laid to rest and remembered. He’d lost too many who couldn’t be afforded their final farewells.

“Perhaps someone should stay behind with Omega,” Echo suggested quietly as Hunter exited the cockpit and settled beside him at the navigation computer. “Stars above only know what we may find, and it could be frightening for her.”

“She won’t want to remain here,” Hunter said, “but we’ll make sure at least one of us can scout ahead of her.”

Echo patted his arm. “I get you’re worried, but the commanders both endured worse.”

“This is the Empire we’re talking about,” Hunter whispered, as though invoking their name would summon them. “If they survived the crash, it’s highly likely they were pursued.” He breathed out slowly and massaged underneath his bandana to relieve the tension in his forehead. “It might be best we take some blankets and bindings. Should we find bodies, they deserve a decent funeral.”

#star wars #sw #starwars #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #sw fanfic #sw fanfiction #sw oc #star wars oc #tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #tw: mentions of blood #clone force 99

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phantom-of-the-ruckus · 1 year

Text

Once upon a Midnight Dreary Chapter 4

I'm actually at chapter 7 "Enlocked", but CH5 will be posted next week, so I can have an established posting schedule.

I'll eventually update CH4 to AO3

This takes place around the 1800s, so be aware that some of the reactions are implied to be typical of the period. This does NOT reflect my perspective on mental health.

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Library

Chapter 4: Acquaintances

As far as you can tell, I am clearly not mad. You would even tell me that I was quite sane, and you would be right. Perhaps, too descriptive towards my feelings. Perhaps too biased, and a bit…well…hostile with my narration. I wouldn’t say that you are wrong, nor right about your perspective. I was, and still are in a very dark place in my mind, deep dark, and keeping myself organize makes things easier to remember.

To be honest, I am not very organized with my feelings. It is easier for me to concentrate into one of the things that I am feeling. It does make it easier for me to tell the tale of what happen, but it partially leaves it monotonous in some aspects. I was feeling a range of different emotions.

Yes…I was grieving for the death of my father, but I was also furious at the world and the God he believed, that took them away.

It was a small anger though, a tiny little atom of a complex mixture. A compound, perhaps. It does become hard to tell overtime.

I don’t often like to let myself divulge into my different thoughts and feelings as I mention the importance of the order, but this particular type of the story makes me divulge into my mind as it did take me a while to open up myself, and I had a lot of conflicted feelings regarding the two people I mentioned previously.

Not romantic feelings. I am not a person who felt any particular attraction at all. I believe I just worked strangely differently when it came towards attraction.

Anyways, this part of the tale started exactly when Dr. Gubberson decided it was time for me to try to socialize more. I admit that I was not particularly thrilled. I was not a person of interacting, but it was necessary to my adaptability upon my stay at the institution. I knew that I had to behave as they expected to me to survive, but I was not comfortable about socializing with those who needed more help than I did.

As much as my father’s murder and my mother’s passing destroyed me. I was a sane woman stuck in a world of those who had it worse than me. I couldn’t bear to feel guilty about being alright to compare to them. It was an injustice I wasn’t thrilled to live with.

That was the best way I could describe my first day at the recreation center. I was avoidant of any possible eye contact, and I became unease at the groans, and screams of patients being handled by the doctors. I remember I was feeling I was being watched, and I was actually being watched. Besides by the doctors and guards, making sure I wouldn’t try to escape, but I was being observed by a particular blond woman. A mother, to be precise, that would eventually reach out to me in my second day.

She was Mrs. Daisy Charlene Danger, age 47.

Mrs. Danger or Daisy, as she was preferred to be call, took a particular interest on me during my first day. I am not exactly precise into why I immediately caught her attention, as when I asked Daisy, her response was quite vague. My best guess it was that it was a mother instic she had. Perhaps she was just like my late mother, she was good at ready body language. Perhaps she saw something on my posture or the way my body moved. My mother used could easily tell whenever I was unwell, perhaps it was something she learn from her years as a nurse, or perhaps it was a maternal kick mothers had (as for Daisy was a housewife.)

Either way, I managed to caught her attention for the rest of that first day. She did not approach right then. According to Daisy, she wanted to make a first impression. An early first impression.

“Well hello deary!” That was the first thing I heard when I step into the recreation room. I saw a round woman, certainly older. She had blond hair, and a blue eye. Her left eye was covered in what it looked to be a black rose. A very well painted black rose painted over the eye patch. Her cheeks were rosy, but were covered in dark trips almost as she cried over painted eyes or something.

I admittedly was startled by her.

“Mrs. Danger, please, back off.” One of the doctors hissed. Mrs. Danger, or well Daisy, backed up 3 steps. Her eye was sparkling with interest and she was fidgeting with her fingers, which were covered in slightly bloody bandages.

“Is this a good distance, Dr. Martin?” Her voice was sweet. It was soft and energetic. It was soothing, and quite motherly.

“There is no way of getting you to step out, is there?” I remember Dr. Martin muttering. It was the first time I saw one of the doctors acting nicely.

I would come to learn later, that they found it easier to comply with most of the interactions Daisy herself had with the other inmates or doctors. It made her temper calm, and she was pleasant enough for them. I honestly like her both ways…

“Anyways. She’s all yours, Mrs. Danger.” Dr. Martin muttered before releasing me from his grip without a care. I forced himself not to give him a spiteful look there. “Just do be careful, the damozel had a history of aggression or something like that.”

Obviously, you could tell that was a lie…

“Probably some fool getting the black cat wet!” Daisy chuckled at Dr. Martin. He simply rolled his eyes and proceeded to leave the room. Daisy momentary frowned. “Well, that was not nice, was it?”

“It’s what expected in this place…” I found myself muttering. Daisy turned to me with a wide smile while she shook her head.

“Negativity won’t get you anywhere, dear!” Daisy chuckled. She stared at me momentarily. Her grin never faded. “Yeah, negatively won’t do you good, sweet pea; especially considering you’re just a tiny rosebud.”

I made no comment at this.

“Now, I am well aware the doctors aren’t nice per se, but in just a manner of time you will be calling this place your temporal home.” She beamed. I couldn’t help but sneer. Her positivism sicken me during that time. That was something I would start to regret later in time as I got to know poor Daisy much better.

Daisy did notice my sneer, but she was rather concerned than bothered by it as she said. “I know it’s hard to adjust to newcomers as yourself, little darling, but I’ll be happy to help you feel more comfortable around this place.”

I became tensed for a moment. I am still surprised that she could tell to this day I was a new to the place when we first met.

“How-” I tried to ask, but Daisy already figure it out what I was trying to say and beat me to the answer.

“It is just easy to tell, dear.” She chuckled. I did not figure out who was new ad who was old.

She held my hand without a warning. I fought the urge to retrieve it as this was the only decency I received during my stayed. Daisy gently leaded me around. She started to mumble all sort of stuff, that I now regret to fully paying attention. Thankfully, I do recall some important mentions like:

“Don’t worry about hurting my hands. I sometimes get clumsy sewing. Ya know, it took a while for Dr. Gubberson to let me have my sewing kit back!”

And

“I used to own a cat. He was a lovely thing, he’s name was Pluto. He was a young sweet thing, he loved to climb up my husband’s bust of Athena and watch him work. He had a good cat life”

“Oh, I have a daughter, you know? She’s just 10 years. You remind me of her darling.”

I was 26 years of age if you were curious. I did look older due to the circumstances I had to deal with.

“Oh!” Daisy seemingly stopped in the middle of her mumbling. I stared at her. Not sure what was going on in her head, but apparently she was trying to remember something. “I need to introduce you to my good friend Nicholas! He was interned here just a year ago, I am sure you would love him!”

And that was how I was introduced to Nicholas Nathaniel Nack, age 24.

Daisy dragged me across the recreation room. She was moving rather quickly due to her excitement. I was not particularly eager to start off immediately my interaction with my inmates this fast. I was planning into observe and find the best way to interact, but I am thankful that Daisy helped me foil my plans as you would eventually see later in this tragic tale.

“Nicholas! Nicholas!” Daisy called. A young man with a messy, dirty brown hair turned around. His face was covered with band-aids. He, however, looked rather tired and annoyed at Daisy.

“Daisy, when would you stop mothering every young person you see?” Nicholas huffed before returning to his plate. I noticed he was painting with his food. It was a portrait of some red mysterious looking man and a clock behind him.

“Don’t be jealous, Nick!” Daisy chuckled. I simply stared, trying to figure out of the situation. Nick simply narrowed his eyes at her. “I just found a new face around here. She appears to be in the need of some good company.”

“So, Dr. Gubberson also decided to sent her to the recreation room…” Nick Nack remarked

“Nicholas!” Daisy frowned

“It’s the true, isn’t it?” He asked giving me a glance. His eyes quickly shifted away when we his purplish blue yes met mine. I simply nodded.

“Well, I’ll take this as an opportunity to built upon friendships.” Daisy declared. She gestured one of the seats as she said. “Do take a seat, my dear.”

“Thank you…” I muttered as I took a seat. Daisy sat next to me. I could feel the atmosphere becoming heavier at that moment.

“Isn’t she a darling?” Daisy chuckled as she accommodate in her seat. Nick imitated himself to just stare. I lowered my head, wishing the visit was over. Daisy, however, decided to make the most out of what remaining time we have. “Oh, I was too excited to remember to introduce myself.”

“When are you not?” Nick sneered. Daisy ignored his comment.

“Let’s make it interesting. Let’s say our name what was our occupation before we got interned.” Daisy beamed. “I’ll start! My name is Daisy Charlene Danger. I was a wife before being interned into the psychiatric institution two years ago.” She stared at Nick.

Sighing, Nick introduced himself. “Nicholas Nathaniel Nack. I was a painter before being interned here.”

All eyes were shifted upon me. I had to choose but to introduce myself. “I am Riley Anne Ruckus. I….I was going to become a Nurse.”

There was a brief silence. Nick looked startled while Daisy simply smiled. They recognized my last name…

“Ruckus? Like the doctor that was murdered a few months ago?” Nick asked. I lowered my head. Tears were threatened to leave my eyes.

My dear poor father…who could have done this to you?

“Nicholas!” Daisy scolded the young man.

“Sorry, it was just familiar…” Nick apologized with a sneer. Daisy turned towards me. It was the first time I ever saw her sad.

“Was he…related to you somehow?” Daisy asked. I nodded.

“Yes…He was my father…” I muttered. My lips trembling as I was holding back the urge of crying. I could see them lifeless corpse once again in front of me…that fateful night…

“Ermm…Sorry…I didn’t mean to refresh your memory.” Nick apologized softly. He was blushing with embarrassment

“It doesn’t matter anymore…”I said, whipping off the tears that left my eyes. Daisy pursed her lips while Nick looked away embarrassed and ashamed.

“it Is alright if you wish to cry, my dear.” Daisy said as she patted my shoulder. Her right eye was glimmering. It looked almost if she wanted to cry as well. “No need to push our emotions. If you need an embrace or some sort I am available, or we could-”

“I…I think I need some time alone.” I excused my self as I rose from my sit, bowing my head to hide the growing tears running from my face. Then I walked off without even saying goodbye.

I cried the rest of the day in my room, muttering my father's name.

#hello puppets #One upon a midnight dreary #riley ruckus #daisy danger #nick nack #tw: mentions of murder #tw: implied ptsd #tw: mentions of blood #tw: mentions of violence #tw: sexism

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