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crash-bump-bring-the-whump · 7 months

Note

I’m absolutely in love with Bastion and Mariano! Misersblem trans men are the best! If you want to, I’d love to see some modern AU with Mariano tending to Bastion’s wounds. Have a writer cookie 🍪

Omg you're so SWEET thank you!! I can totally do this for you, in fact, take whumptober days 14 and 21 c:

Day 14/21 - Field Medicine/Shock

Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain, @whumpbees

TWs: blood, shock, fingers going into wounds, hiking accident, gore

"Bastian!" Mariano's voice cut through the quiet, echoing through the trees. "Bastian, shout if you can hear me!"

Bastian groaned, electricity ripping through his back as he drew in a breath. It took a few tries, but he managed to send a long "over here!" through the air, through the trees he'd just managed to tumble through on his way down the steep hill. He still couldn't believe he'd slipped like that on their hike.

Mariano sent back a grito, the rolling trill bouncing and jolting as he made his way down the hill. Bastian couldn't help the flutter in his chest as he heard it--there really was something jarring about hearing that sort of noise outside of a social setting. It was out of place there, in the quiet of the forest after a rough fall.

Not even a minute later, Mariano jogged into view, eyebrows bunching together as he came to a stop beside Bastian. "Bastian--it's alright, let me take a look at you." He dropped to his knees, pulling his bag from his shoulders and tugging his first aid kit from it.

"For once, I'm glad you're so paranoid." Bastian managed, grinning as Mariano huffed out a laugh and helped Bastian onto his side. "Are we gonna have to amputate anything?"

"If we have to amputate your back, we have bigger issues." Mariano laughed again, more sincere as he lifted Bastian's shirt up and away from the wounds. His grin morphed into an stern wince and a hiss. "This...this won't be pleasant. The forest got you good."

"How bad is it?" Bastian asked, resting his head back on the ground. Something in Mariano's voice told him that he didn't want to look at what was going to happen.

"I'll have to pack one of these punctures so that we can get you to a doctor. It's like you sprung a leak. Don't squirm, but you can scream." Bastian heard Mariano ripping open a pack of sterile gloves, then another package being ripped open. And then something pressed into the wound.

"What are you doing?" Bastian gasped, shuddering against the fire that ripped through him, with whatever was being forced into him being the epicenter. "What the fuck...?" He craned his neck to see that yes, Mariano had pressed two gloved fingers into the injury. It made his head swim and nausea rise up in his gut.

"I have to control the bleeding and pressure is the best way to do that. Manuel taught me how to do this, it's alright." Mariano said, wrenching a clipped yelp from Bastian as he forced his fingers in further. "There--there, yes. I think I got it." Bastian watched him dab at the skin around his hand, eying the bloodied tissue for just a few seconds. "This won't feel good."

Bastian groaned into his arm as Mariano started pressing something that felt like sandpaper in beside his fingers. "What's that?" He asked, needing something, needing to hear Mariano's steady, smooth voice.

"I'm using gauze to help stop the bleeding." Mariano answered, continuing to stuff more of it in. "I'm sorry, I know dry gauze on a wound is hell. I hated using it when I got shot in the leg."

"S'that where that scar on your thigh is from?" Bastian asked, remembering the near-invisible mark at the mottled edge of one of Mariano's burn scars.

Mariano hummed how he always did when he nodded. "It wasn't a very good day, but Manuel said that I packed it correctly, at least." He slipped his fingers out, and Bastian shuddered as Mariano just kept forcing more and more gauze into the space.

Bastian felt a larger square get slipped between Mariano's palm and Bastian’s skin, and then it was like the mage tried to shove that inside as well. His body weight leaned in and stayed there, the heel of Mariano's other palm sliding soothingly along Bastian's shoulder. "Four minutes of pressure to be safe, now, then I'll tape it down and I'll look at the rest of your scrapes."

Bastian's head spun as he nodded. "S'it normal to feel this dizzy?" He asked, closing his eyes against the way the world tilted.

"Your body is responding to the blood loss, but I know what to do. I have some sports drinks in my bag with plenty of sugar." Bastian shivered as Mariano settled in against him. Oh, that made sense. He was going into shock. "We're a few minutes from the car, too, so an ambulance can meet us there. Can you dial the emergency number for me?"

Something about Mariano's request and tone settled his stomach, though. It was like a weighted blanket, calm and self-assured. His boyfriend knew what he was doing. He knew how to handle this.

"Okay." Bastian said, reaching a hand back for Mariano's as he tried to fish his phone from his pocket. "Yeah. I can do that so you don't get my screen all bloody."

As the phone began to ring and Mariano kept sliding his hand over Bastian's shoulder, he took a deeper breath. Mariano was a smart mage. He would always take care of his dragon.

#whump #ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptoberday14 #Day 14 #Blood #Gore #Fingers in wounds #Shock #I THINK I got all the tws please let me know if I missed anything #Mage of violence #Dragon of diamond #modern au #Hiking accident #Ailesswhumptoberday21 #Day 21

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shion-yu · 7 months

Text

Day 21 - Blood Loss

When Elliot goes back to collect his things after the breakup, he doesn't expect to walk into that. Whumptober 2023! I’m using the @ailesswhumptober's prompt list. This story is about my OC Cliff - here’s his profile if you’re so inclined: https://toyhou.se/23741453.cliff. Takes place in Cliff’s junior year of undergraduate degree, the breakup. It's a long one! Also a part 1/companion piece to Day 16 in Elliot's POV.

TWs: Vomit

Why was it so cold? Cliff pulled his duvet closer around his aching body. His fingers were so stiff it was as if they had frozen. Cliff knew something was wrong, but it was as if his mind couldn’t form a thought correctly in order to process what his options were. Elliot was gone. Cliff had messed up, again. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything they’d done together, all the progress they made - gone,just because Cliff hadn’t been able to say what Elliot said so easily out loud. He’s my boyfriend.

Cliff vomited over the side of the bed where the trash can already held evidence of several other times his stomach had betrayed him today. Everything burned. Not only his stomach, but his chest, his eyes and mouth. This was it. It was the ultimate fuck up. Elliot wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t answering Cliff’s phone calls or texts. He didn’t want anything to do with Cliff, ever again.

A ragged, painful sob crawled up Cliff’s throat between retches. Nothing was coming up anymore except for hot stomach acid. Despite feeling like he was crying, no tears were coming out. Was it really possible to cry so much that you didn’t have any tears left, Cliff wondered? He vaguely knew that he needed to drink something, but the fever made everything so confusing. The ceiling seemed to have turned into water. When had he ended up on the floor?

“If you ever really loved me, you wouldn’t have done this to me,” Cliff thought he heard Elliot’s angry voice in his head. “I don’t ever want to see you again. You won’t ever see me smile again. You won’t ever kiss me again. This is your fault, all your fault. Cliff? What the hell. Are you there?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Cliff was crying again. Ah, so he did have some tears left.

Whatever ghost that seemed to be intent on torturing him scoffed in Elliot’s voice. “Stop apologizing to me. You made your true feelings clear with your actions.”

“I never wanted to hurt you. Not now. Not then. Believe me.”

A frustrated sigh. “It’s too late for that. Look, I need to come get my stuff. Can you please leave for a couple of hours so I don’t have to see you?”

Cliff’s eyes blinked open. His mind slowly struggled to the realization that this request was too reasonable to have come just from a guilty hallucination. Cliff turned his head slightly to the side and realized it hadn’t been in his head - he was holding his phone and Elliot really was there on the phone, although Cliff couldn't remember how they'd started talking in the first place. “You’re coming?” The words spilled from his mouth more pathetically than anything Cliff had ever said. Desperation. Desire.

“Not for you, I said for my things,” Cliff heard Elliot say. He could almost see Elliot’s cross face and felt like laughing. “Cliff, I said for my things. Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” Cliff whispered, falling back onto his back and closing his eyes. The cold dorm room floor seemed to be swallowing him in a way that was both frightening and comforting. Was the last thing he was going to hear before he died Elliot’s voice of contempt? He certainly deserved it.

Elliot’s voice came back over the phone. “So will you leave or not?”

This time Cliff did laugh. Or something that was supposed to be a laugh, but was closer to a hysterical sob. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

The irritation in Elliot’s voice grew. “What? What do you mean you can’t?”

“I... I can’t,” Cliff mumbled again. He couldn't get up. It was getting harder to follow the conversation. What were they talking about again? Oh, right, Elliot wanted to pick up his things. Because he was going to leave, and this time he wasn’t coming back. There was a pause so long that Cliff thought maybe Elliot’s voice had been a hallucination after all.

“Where are you?” Something had changed in the tone.

“Just here,” Cliff heard himself say faintly. It was as if someone else had said those words from very far away. The cold in his body was being replaced by a numbness that he had never felt before.

“Just where?”

Cliff was too tired to answer, or move from his position on the floor. He was tired of dealing with this. It was better to just sleep. He thought he could hear Elliot’s voice saying other things to him, but he wasn’t sure what. The voice alone made Cliff’s lips twitch into a smile, though - the first one in days. But was Elliot’s yelling now? Cliff didn’t understand what there possibly was to yell about anymore. Elliot had been right. Cliff couldn’t handle their relationship. It was too precious and Cliff was too clumsy. It was over. And if it was over, he didn’t know what else was worth fighting for in this world.

Because I love you.

I love you.

“I love you...”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Elliot had thirty missed calls and several pages worth of text messages from Cliff that he had had ignored this week. The absence of Cliff’s attempts to contact him the past two days was more noticeable than when he’d been ignoring Cliff’s telltale text message sound and ringtone. Elliot was truly frustrated. He loved Cliff, but he couldn’t do this anymore. They’d gone so far, and done so much together. He’s been foolish enough to believe that they were past this, but he was wrong. If things hadn’t changed by now, Elliot had to give up hope they ever would. It was too painful to keep waiting.

Elliot rolled to his side on Kai's roommate’s bed he’d been sleeping on for the past few days. It was lumpy and all wrong - Elliot missed his own bed, his white and floral duvet, and the pillows that Cliff hated for being useless for sleeping on. He missed how his own bed smelled - a mix of his own cologne and Cliff’s own warm scent...

“Oh, stop that,” Elliot scolded himself out loud. It wasn’t good to keep thinking about these things. Although he did need to go back to the dorm room eventually to get his things. He’d brought most of his essentials in his backpack when he’d stormed out, but Elliot was getting tired of wearing Kai's clothes. It wasn’t fair that he had to go without just because Cliff was an idiot, Elliot thought crossly. He should just march in, grab his stuff and leave without a word. But then, he didn’t want Cliff to argue with him. And he didn’t want to see Cliff cry again. He didn’t want to see Cliff at all.

Elliot sighed. It was better to be a big boy and just give Cliff a heads up so he could be out of the room when Elliot came back. He quickly sent Cliff a text before he could change his mind.

[Need clothes. Please be out of room from 3-5]

Waiting for a reply was like twisting a knife in his side slowly, just to torture himself, so Elliot plugged his phone in to charge and went to the kitchen without it. It was a Sunday, so there was no reason for Cliff not to see the text right away, but Elliot figured it wasn’t good for him to wait for a reply so intently. Distraction was needed; dirty dishes were, for once, useful. As Elliot washed the plates in the sink, he told himself that he couldn’t hang on to Cliff’s reply like it mattered to him. And no matter what Cliff said, Elliot told himself, he wouldn’t go back to him.

But then Elliot finished the dishes, and there was still no text. And then one hour passed. Two hours. Elliot kept becoming more irritated and tense with each minute. Three o’clock came and there was still no reply. Frustrated and sure that Cliff was doing this to him on purpose, Elliot decided it was time to try a phone call. Surely Cliff would answer. After all, it was Cliff who’d been blowing up his phone all these days. He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and hit the call button.

The phone rang and rang but eventually went to voicemail. Now more pissed than nervous, Elliot hit redial. Again, no answer. “Dammit, Cliff!” Elliot barked angrily at his phone. Once again he considered giving up trying to call and just showing up. But the distaste for seeing Cliff face to face was so strong that Elliot touched the call button to try and get a hold of Cliff one more time.

One....two... three rings. Elliot sighed. Cliff wasn’t going to pick up, he thought. But then the ringing stopped and the line went silent. For a moment Elliot thought his phone had died, but when he picked it up he realized he could hear someone else breathing on the other line. Oh, Elliot was mad. Why wasn’t Cliff saying anything?!

“Cliff? What the hell. Are you there?” It took a long time for him to get an answer.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He was crying again, Elliot realized with frustration. This was exactly why he didn’t want to meet in person.

“Stop apologizing to me. You made your true feelings clear with your actions.”

“I never wanted to hurt you. Believe me.”

Elliot sighed in frustration. If he didn’t hang up soon, he was worried he might start believing Cliff. He hated hearing Cliff cry. The sound was so wrong that even now it tugged insistently at his heart strings. “It’s too late for that,” Elliot forced himself to say quickly. “Look, I need to come get my stuff. Can you please leave for a couple of hours so I don’t have to see you?”

There was a long pause, so long that Elliot started to wonder if Cliff was still there. Then - “You’re coming?”

“Not for you, I said for my things,” Elliot corrected him crossly. The nerve of this guy. “Cliff, I said for my things. Are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

“So will you leave or not?” Elliot asked again. He waited for an answer, but wasn’t expecting the sound that came out of Cliff instead. Eli knew Cliff was crying, but it sounded different than anything he’d ever heard come from Cliff before. There was this strangled gasping that scared him.

The concern that Elliot was trying so hard to keep from forming became too powerful to ignore when he heard Cliff say faintly, “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“What? What do you mean you can’t?” Elliot asked.

“I... I can’t.”

There was something wrong. Cliff had never sounded like this before. He didn’t seem to be making sense. And although Elliot hated himself for it, he couldn’t leave it alone. He cared too much, too naturally. It made him as angry at himself as he was at Cliff.

“Where are you?” Elliot asked.

“Just here.”

“Just where? Cliff? Answer me. Just where?”

No answer. Elliot’s concern grew stronger. “Cliff, knock it off. Where are you? Are you drunk?” There were only shuffling noises over the phone, like Cliff was moving around. Suddenly, Eli heard a terrible gagging sound. “Cliff! What’s going on? Cliff, answer me.”

“I love you...”

Elliot froze. What? What did Cliff mean, he loved him? After all the times Elliot had told Cliff that, Cliff wanted to reciprocate it now? As furious as that made him, Elliot knew in his heart that something strange was happening. Cliff didn’t sound drunk. There were more gagging noises.

“Cliff, are you throwing up or something?” Elliot asked, trying to remain calm. His tone was still cross, but worry was clearly starting to seep in. “Cliff, stop it. This isn’t funny.” No answer. “Cliff? Cliff!” The line was still connected. Cliff hadn’t hung up on him. But there were no noises over the phone except for what sounded like occasional gasping.

No matter how mad Elliot was at Cliff, he couldn’t just hang up and pretend nothing was happening. “Fuck!” Elliot swore, throwing one of Kai's hoodies on and shoving his feet into his Toms. “You better not be messing with me, Cliff,” Elliot said, but his tone no longer matched his venomous words. “I’m coming now.”

The bike ride from Kai's off-campus townhome to the dorms felt much longer than five minutes. Elliot stayed on the phone with Cliff, desperately trying to listen for any signs of life while he pedaled frantically down the road. The only reason Elliot knew Cliff was still there, somewhere, were the uneven gasps that he heard sometimes. It was torture.

Elliot burst through their building’s lobby and ran up the stairs to their second floor room faster than the elevator could have brought him. He banged on the door even as he fumbled with his keys to unlock it. “Cliff, it’s me, answer me,” Elliot shouted.

The door finally unlocked and Elliot swung it open with a bang. The sound seemed to echo in his ears for a long time. There Cliff was. There was so much blood. Elliot screamed and his mind went blank.

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Cliff was asleep for what felt like forever. He wanted to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. They were too heavy. Same for his limbs: it was as if they were replaced with iron pipes. He was so uncomfortable. His mouth was so dry. He could feel himself breathing faster, starting to panic. Something was choking him, which only made him struggle harder.

“It’s okay, Cliff.”

The voice was like a lifeline that he’d been looking for endlessly. He felt a dull sensation and eventually realized that someone was holding his hand. Cliff vaguely felt his own fingers twitch.

“Shh. I’ll be here until you wake up.”

He had no choice but to trust that comforting voice. What else could he do? Cliff relaxed and soon he was asleep again.

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