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minty-mumbles · 1 year

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From the Outside In (Pt. 3: The Good Samaritan)

Summary: A series of short unconnected fics, exploring the chain from various outsider's perspectives. This chapter: Hyrule, knocked unconscious in an alleyway, receives help from a local.

AN: In this fic I made Hyrule a native to Calatian, one of Hyrule's neighboring countries. (I'm pretty sure? this is actually canon in Zelda lore.) He also speaks in Calatian, because I imagine that his native tongue would not be Hylian if the above is true.

Read this and the previous parts on AO3

~~~

It was late. Nearly midnight, in fact.

It was late, she had work in the morning, and someone wouldn't stop moaning in the alleyway outside her window.

She’d tried to ignore it, Hylia knows she did. She lived in the middle of Kakariko, which wasn’t a large city, but it was a city, nonetheless. There were going to be people behaving inappropriately, no matter the hour of the day. It’d only been a year since she moved here for her apprenticeship, but she already knew that.

When she’d first heard the noises, she’d rolled over in her cot, pulling her pillow over her head, and prayed that whoever was making the noises would finish their activities and move elsewhere.

Twenty minutes later, she was staring dully at the wall, coming to the realization that if she wanted a good night’s sleep, she was going to have to stick her head out the window and tell the two love birds to move elsewhere.

She swung herself out of bed, moving carefully through the dark of her room over to the table in the middle of the room. Striking a match, she lit the candle that she’d blown out not even an hour ago. The flame slickered and caught, its soft light casting the room in a dim glow.

Moving over the window, she pulled a face and prepared herself for whatever sight she might see. Pulling back the thin curtain that protected her privacy, and throwing open the shutters, she tried to look as annoyed and haggard as she could.

Before she could even register the sight before her, she was talking, trying to scare whoever it was away. “Some people are trying to sleep, you know!” she snapped, “You need to leave or I’ll yell for the… night guard…”

Her voice trails off when she finally registers the scene in front of her. There wasn’t some amorous couple pressed up against the wall, or a lone man trying to find his own satisfaction. There was only one person, laying still on the ground. They didn’t respond to her words, remaining facing away from the window, curled on their side.

The light of her candle wasn’t bright enough to show them in great detail, but she could see that the person wasn’t moaning because of any sort of pleasure.

A pool of dark liquid surrounded the figure’s head. She couldn’t tell what color it was. Its hues were washed out in the golden candlelight, but she knew it wasn't water.

In less than a minute, she’d thrown a robe over her nightgown, and jammed her feet into her shoes, not even bothering to put stockings on. At the last moment, she opened the chest that sat at the end of her bed and pulled out an old ratty blanket she had been planning on cutting up for rags. With the blanket tucked under one arm, and the candle held high in the other, she leaves her room.

As quickly as she could- but still carefully, so as not to disturb the tenants in the rooms next to hers- she made her way out of the house.

Unsurprisingly, the man was still there when she arrived. She was cautious as she entered the alleyway, keeping an eye out for whoever did this to the boy. Whoever it was seemed to be long gone, though. The alley is empty beside the man, who was still making pained sounds and whimpers, although his voice had grown weaker.

As she approached, she could see that the man wasn't a man at all, but a boy. He can’t be older than seventeen yet, and must still be a few years younger than she was. She can now tell the liquid pooling under his head is indeed blood. There was less of it than she feared, but still far, far too much of it.

She set the blanket and candle down, taking a hold of the boy’s shoulders to turn him onto his back. He twitches at her touch but otherwise doesn’t react, and her concern grows. She focused her attention on his head. He had shoulder-length chocolate brown hair, and it was matted with blood.

She didn’t know what happened to him, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Carefully and as gently as she could, she felt the back of his head, trying to find the source of the blood. The boy murmured something, trying to turn away from her prodding fingers and the pain they caused him.

It was the first real reaction she’d gotten out of him, and she felt a spark of hope.

But it was far too easy to keep him from squirming away from her. She wasn’t a very strong person, and she could see the muscles hidden under his tunic. He should be able to easily overpower her, but his head wound seemed to have rendered him weak as a newborn kitten.

She soon found where the blood was coming from. There was a large lump there on the back of his head, but thankfully there was no give under her fingers. She put her worry about a shattered skull out of her head. Taking the blanket, she pressed it to the back of his head, trying to stem the bleeding. His skull might not be shattered, but there's so much blood.

Too much blood.

She didn’t think she'd ever seen this much blood before in her life.

Once, when she’d been a child, her younger brother had fallen out of a tree and broken his arm. The break had been so bad that his bones had stuck out through his skin. Her brother had cried and cried, and she’d stayed with him while her mother ran to get the healer. She’d thought that had been a lot of blood, back then.

There’s more blood on the ground now than there’d been back then. Much more. Even if the boy’s brain wasn’t too damaged, he still may die from blood loss.

The boy mumbled again, louder this time. The distant sounds of the sleepy city made her strain to hear his words. At first, she didn’t understand what he’s saying. If he couldn't even speak properly, then it’s almost a guarantee something was seriously wrong with his head beside the bleeding. She didn’t know much about injuries, but not being able to speak was definitely a bad sign.

But it didn’t take her long before she realized that she couldn’t understand- not because his speech was slurred or broken, but because the boy is speaking Calatian, not Hylian.

She twitches a little at the revelation and glances warily around the alleyway.

Calatian was the language of Calatia, the country that bordered Hyrule to the west. It’s a shock to hear anyone speak that language in Kakariko. They don’t get many normal travelers from Calatia here, and especially not recently.

The only Calatians she’d seen recently had been a steady trickle of nobles and ambassadors, heading back and forth between the countries. From the ambassador's unhappy expressions and the gossip in the streets, relations between the two countries were quickly degrading.

She could only pick out a few Hylian words in his slurred speech. “Time…” He moaned, brows pinched, eyes still closed. He said something else in Calatian, and then she heard, “Wars..” before he trailed off again.

He was delirious. At least she hoped he was. Tension had been stirring lately between Hyrule and Calatia. She doesn't want to think about what a Calatian could be doing in Hyrule, talking about war.

Although she wouldn't be surprised if he actually was simply delirious, with how long he’s been laying here.

With how long she’d been ignoring him.

She shook the thought out of her head. She needed to concentrate now. The guilt could come later. For now, she needed to figure out how to get the boy to a healer. She knew the healing house just up the road stayed open late. Bringing him there would be the best option. But was it smart to move him? Or would it be better to run up the road and get the healer to come here? She bit her lip, unsure.

She would probably have to run for help. It would be better to be cautious with moving him when she didn’t know exactly how bad his injury was. And anyways, she doubted she could carry him.

She gently placed his head back down on the ground, leaving the blanket to cushion him. She hesitated, wondering if she should bring the candle or leave it here. It’s not like the boy would need it, but on the other hand, the street lamps were lit along the main road. She wouldn’t need the candle to see.

After a moment, she left the candle on the floor and dashed out of the alleyway, clutching at the front of her robe to keep it from flapping open. Her quick pace would probably blow the candle out anyways, and there was no more time to delay.

~~~

She shifted uncomfortably. The wooden chair she sat in was incredibly uncomfortable. Despite the stressful situation and uncomfortable chair, she felt seconds away from nodding off. It had been nearly an hour since she had found the boy laying in the alleyway, and she doubted that she would leave anytime soon.

It had taken nearly half an hour for the healer to carefully transfer the boy to the healer’s house, and another half hour to check the boy over and treat his head. Now it was nearly half past one in the morning, and she was waiting at the boy’s bedside, her hand tightly holding his.

The boy had been mumbling and crying, refusing to settle down. The healer had told her it was normal for someone with a head injury like his to be confused and distressed. But the boy had settled down once she’d taken his hand in hers. If something so simple gave him comfort, then who was she to deny him?)

She was going to be exhausted tomorrow. She hoped she didn’t nod off over her work. Still, she couldn’t just leave before she knew the boy was in capable hands. Either those of his friends, or those of the knights that were stationed in Kakariko. She didn’t know who she was hoping would come to retrieve him.

She hadn’t told anyone about what he’d been saying when she’d found him, but the echoes of his words rattled around in her head. (War. He’d been talking about war. Why was a Calatian in Hyrule, talking about War?)

The healer on duty had sent their apprentice to the nearby inn with a description of the boy, hoping that some of the other travelers there would know him. The boy still hadn’t woken up enough to identify himself, so they had no name to give out. A description would have to do.

Luckily for the boy, the healer had given him a good prognosis for his injury. It was only a severe concussion. He’d also lost a lot of blood, but the healer had said that head wounds often bleed a lot, so it wasn’t a major concern.

The boy had been hit on the back of the head with a blunt object, knocking him unconscious. A mugger perhaps, trying to get some rupees off an unarmed child. She shuddered. Tomorrow, she would be avoiding the back alley shortcuts on the way to her internship.

(She tried to shake off her more sinister thoughts that perhaps the boy had been attacked because he knew something he shouldn’t have.)

The healer had assured her that- barring any unpleasant surprises- the boy would heal perfectly. He would just need to rest and not strain himself for a week or so. A red potion would speed the process up even more, if the boy was able and willing to pay for one.

Now, she was waiting for someone to enter, and relieve her from her post. At this point, she might leave, even if no one from the inn recognized his description and came to see him. (She was lying to herself. She wouldn't leave him. She couldn’t bear to deprive him of the simple comfort of a hand to hold.)

Luckily, she didn't have to wait long. Not twenty minutes later, the door creaked open.

The person who entered wasn’t the healer or her apprentice, but a man in full plate armor. His eyes- no, eye, singular- instantly zeroed in on her. The heaviness of his stern gaze made her shrink into her seat slightly. The sword on his back was so large it was almost ridiculously big, but she has no doubt the man could swing it with ease.

He was closely followed by another man who was also wearing armor, although less of it than the first. A decorative scarf wrapped around his shoulders, military blue with gold stitching displayed the Hylian royal crest on it. Despite his slightly ostentatious clothes, she can tell he could be deadly with the blade strapped to his back just like the first man.

She highly doubted these were this boy's friends. In fact, there was almost no way the two of them even knew the boy. She didn’t recognize them, but she didn’t need to, to be able to know who they were. The knights had come for the boy.

There was a beat of silence. She used her free hand to clutch her robe tighter as their gazes scrutinized her. Her heart started beating faster as their gazes lingered longer, judging her. She felt her skin crawling and knew instinctively that these men were not to be crossed.

The singular piercing blue eye of the one in full plate wandered down to where she held the boy’s hand, and she quickly jerked out of his grip. The boy whined in response, fingers twitching as if he were trying to find her hand again.

She should leave. The knights were here, and she had work in the morning. Her mentor would not be pleased if she were late.

But for some reason, she felt a sort of responsibility towards the boy. She owed it to him to help him as much as she could, especially after leaving him alone in the alleyway for so long. She doesn’t want to hand him over to the knights, for some unknown fate.

But she was a citizen of Hyrule. She had more responsibility to her country, her Queen, and her family than to a random stranger on the street.

Not with war on the line.

She would have to assist the knights as much as they needed, no matter her own feelings. She just hoped that the boy was indeed a Hyrulean spy, and not a Calatian one.

She was the first one to break the silence.

“He was delirious,” She told them. “He was talking about a war.” The taller one’s eye flickers to the look at the captain, and doesn't seem surprised. She didn’t get a lot of information from the boy- hardly anything at all- but what little information she did have she would give them.

“He was talking about a war,” She repeated, clutching at the skirt of the nightgown so hard she knew it would crease under her grip, and she would have to iron it before going back to bed tomorrow.

“And he said something about time. Mostly he just spoke in Calatian. I couldn't understand him.” Still, neither of the knights seem shocked by this. Perhaps they have good poker faces. Perhaps they know as much about this as she did, and nothing she was saying carried any significance to them.

The one with the scarf had already turned his attention away from her, moving over to the boy's side to check on him. His fingers came up to the boy’s neck to check his pulse, despite the fact the healer must’ve told them that the boy would be fine. The one with the scarred eye thanked her with a grateful nod, but said nothing more.

When neither of them spoke again, she dipped her head in respect and excused herself as politely as she could manage. Scurrying around the one-eyed man and out the door, she took her leave.

She spends the next month in suspense, waiting to hear about war breaking out in the west, but no news ever comes. If anything, tensions seem to ease between the two kingdoms. She could only hope that meant that- whatever news of war the boy had carried- it had brought good tidings.

#mint's fanfiction #linked universe #from the outside in #lu hyrule #lu time #lu warriors #angst #lu hyrule angst #lu fanfiction #blood #head injuries #concussion #implied violence #misunderstandings

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 1 year

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Idk if this has been suggested yet, but a whumpee with low blood pressure fainting from standing up too fast, hitting their head on the way down to tiled floor

Only just saw this! A good addition to the recent prompt #1039

(to clarify, this was sent before I posted 1039, only just saw it lol)

#low blood pressure #losing consciousness #writing #prompts #head injuries

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whump-ghoul · 2 years

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Diego Luna was an excellent whumpee as Button in Open Range (2003)

Whilst standing guard of their wagon, he gets attacked off-screen and found by Boss and Charley who patch him up. For the majority of the film he is weak/feverish.

(Sorry for the quality, I have no idea how to gif and there were too many good scenes to choose from.)

#Open Range 2003 #Button #Diego Luna #whump #shot #carried #head injuries #worry #Kevin Costner

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arsillious-goose · 9 months

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My mother said, "Never trust old people."

A warning I didn't heed today.

Now look at me! I have a dent in my head

#head injuries #that knife flew tip first right into my head #eventually i'll have to check for a concussion #but i'm tired rn #sooo....#just prayers and garlic for now i guess #lmao #training #knife and sword

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imjussaiyan · 4 months

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Mild brain damage is frustrating to live with.

It’s hard to explain knowing how to do something and then completely fuck it up for no apparent reason.

#disability #disabilities #head injuries #ableism #frustrated #I hate making an idiot out of myself #just work brain

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veldeia · 7 months

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Fic: Something, something, something, we—get a headache?

I had a personal Whumptober goal of writing at least one fic for a fandom that I've never done before. I also really wanted to write something for the Netflix Nimona movie, because I loved it (and Ballister perfectly fits my collection of armored blorbos). So, here's a quick little bit of canon divergent whump.

Fandom: Nimona (2023) Rating: Gen Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Word count: 1,549 Characters: Nimona & Ballister Boldheart Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Head Injury, Protective Nimona (Nimona), POV First Person, POV Nimona, Hurt Ballister, warning for vomiting

Summary:

Ballister waking up with his brain all scrambled after their jailbreak was not a part of Nimona's excellent plan, but that is what's happened, and somehow, they'll have to deal with it.

Fill for the Whumptober day 8 prompt "Overcrowded ER" (as well as the "I don’t feel so good" dialogue prompt from day 13).

Chapter on AO3

#whumptober 2023 #no.8 #no.13 #overcrowded er #“I don't feel so good”#nimona netflix #fic #head injuries #vomiting tw #my fic

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ceaseless-rambler · 1 year

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Gonna be kind of annoying for a moment but. Fiction writers (in general, but also fanfic) please understand that if you hit someone in the head hard enough to knock them out they have a traumatic brain injury. I recently read something where a character got hit in the head and was unconscious long enough to wake up in a secondary location and as soon as he woke up a doctor looked at him and said "doesn't even have a concussion". Being unconscious for any amount of time after a head injury means you should seek immediate medical attention. Chloroform also doesn't work Like That but I don't care about that one very much, it just stresses me out when people don't take head injuries seriously

#ceaseless rambles #fiction writing #head injuries #i don't know what to tag this so that it reaches the target audience but

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hood-ex · 7 months

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You’re like the Dick Grayson encyclopedia of tumblr to me, so here is a question (no need to answer if you don’t want to lol). I’ve been thinking a lot of Dick’s many TBIs due to one of my classes… anyways, do you know when Dick’s significant TBI’s happened? Like what comics specifically? (Also, this is just for anyone, but you can answer if you’d like: does DC every say what part of Dick’s brain got injured during his TBIs?)

Idk one of my classes has talked a lot about specific brain functions and what could happen if certain areas are injured, and I obviously thought of my head trauma king. Got me thinking about the consequences Dick could have or should have faced with his TBIs 🤔

Dick's been clobbered in the head with a variety of things an ungodly amount of times. I even once made a post about different times Dick got clobbered in the head with like a baseball bat, golf club, etc. And then other people piled on more examples so lol yeah, I suppose some of those would be considered... less significant TBI's.

His most recent significant TBI did show which area of his brain got injured:

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #50

According to Dick, he lost bone, blood, brain tissue, and cerebrospinal fluid, and he also suffered from severe vascular swelling. He talked about how one of the effects of this was having a jump in consciousness. Like he wouldn’t understand how he ended up somewhere. - Nightwing (Vol. 4) #50

Right after the incident, he also couldn’t talk or feed himself (which isn't the case in Nightwing Annual #2 but whatever). - Nightwing (Vol. 4) #54

Dick's been shot in the head another time in Batman and Robin (Vol. 1) #15. Dr. Hurt fractured the back of Dick's skull to cause a hematoma. The intended effect was to have blood absorbed in the cerebrospinal fluid which would give Dick permanent neurological damage. So, basically, he wanted to turn Dick into a vegetable. Here's the placement of the bullet in case you were curious:

Batman and Robin (Vol. 1) #15

From here on out, it depends on what you'd classify as a major TBI. I mean, he once got clobbered on the top of his head with an extremely heavy looking mallet. He ended up blacking out from it for an extended period of time, so I'd personally count this as something on the more extreme side.

Nightwing (Vol. 3) #16

And speaking of blacking out, Dick blacked out four times in the current Nightwing run because he kept getting hit in the head (this takes place after Dick gets shot in the head by KGBeast—except the flashback one—sooo... his brain is probably feeling extra soupy now 😌):

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #92

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #81

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #101

In Robin: Year One #2-3, Dick had bandages around his head and might have taken a shot to the head from Two-Face's bat (though, luckily, Two-Face didn't get to deliver the final blow to Dick's head that would have killed him instantly). It seems like other internal injuries were more prominent as well as the fact that Dick's throat started to swell so badly that Alfred had to intubate him. Nevertheless, Dick nearly died from the severe beating, and the head injury might have increased his chance of dying.

Robin: Year One #3

In Superman/Batman #55, Bruce got Superman’s powers and he ended up losing control of himself. He broke Dick’s jaw, knocked some of his teeth out, and caused other fractures to Dick’s body (it doesn't specify where the fractures are but Dick's head possibly might be fractured considering the bandages). Bruce warned Dick that one more hit would kill him (very RYO-esque, no 😌?).

Superman/Batman #55

And, again, we could probably go on and on with him getting hit in the head and blacking out over this and that, so I'll end it here.

#woke up from a nap w a headache and these are all i can think of rn but if anyone else can think of a major tbi then go ahead and list it #Dick Grayson #TBI #head injuries #anon

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macgyvermedical · 2 years

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Is there any danger to sedating a character who has a concussion?

The danger is not because of the medication itself- you're generally not going to hurt someone with a concussion by giving narcotic pain medication or other sedating medications.

However, there are possible complications to having a concussion, like bleeding or swelling in the brain that must be recognized and treated quickly in order to prevent additional harm. For a lot of those things, the first symptom is a change in mental status, which we can only know by asking the person questions and judging their responses.

Medications that sedate the person can make it difficult for them to answer our questions, which we would judge as confusion or a change in mental status. Since we wouldn't know what was causing the confusion- the drug or a potentially dangerous bleed- there is a risk we wouldn't be able to react fast enough.

So as much as possible we'd try to control the person's pain or anxiety in a way that didn't alter their mental status.

#whump reference #writing reference #concussions #head injuries #medications

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coachtfd · 9 months

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Criticize him if you want to, but I’ll never question a manager for prioritizing a player’s health over three points, especially when dealing with a head injury. 👍🏾

#tfd #players before points #ange postecoglou #cristian romero #brentford vs tottenham #tottenham hotspur #brentford #soccer #football #2023/2024 #premier league #spurs #spursblr #head injuries

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painful-pooch · 1 year

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Five sentence fic - “I can’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else.”

Thank you so much for this ask!!! This is going to be set in a fantasy universe created by @actress4him and is part of the AU we both fell in love with

Kamaria belongs to the one and only @actress4him!! She's one of a kind and I can't thank you enough for letting me write her and Bruno's adventures when I have the spoons to do it, Jada. Love you!!! <3

CW: death mentions, assassination mention, organized crime, explosions, knives, violence, murder of npcs, head injuries, emotional whump, ptsd, and all the whump goodness!

~~~

It’s supposed to be a simple in and out mission like it always was. One that ended with success and laughs around the campfire that night. Bruno was always great about drawing all the weapons on him and dodging the rampant waves of bullets, arrows, and knives. Kamaria had a way about her that let her slip undetected, kill the target, grab some information, and bounce. They were a deadly duet that had begun to gain a lot of traction in the area, usually called ‘The Brute and Shadow’.

They rarely failed and they never had any issues with getting the results they needed, one way or another. It was like clockwork.

It wasn’t meant to fail.

Bruno was waiting for Kamaria to escape the compound and rendezvous with him so they could both escape by navigating through the forest and crossing the river that divided the nations of Ethorcon and Delator. Using the brand-new rifle that he bought from some well renowned gun smiths over in Agrias, he picked off guard after guard on the top of the compound’s walls, chuckling as he barely felt the recoil at all. He loved the intricacies of the design, from silver and gold patterns along the stained wood of the stock to the engravings across the barrel of his favorite saying in the Vaya language. It was a craft like none other, and he enjoyed the missions where he got to use it. He cursed to himself when he ran out of another clip of bullets, reaching over to grab yet another clip and sliding it into the magazine well of the firearm.

There were more guards than previously mentioned during pre-mission briefing with the client they were hired by, but it didn’t bother Bruno at all. After all, he and Kamaria were the dream team for assassinations and intel gathering; they could handle anything thrown at them.

The alarms were blaring all over the compound, the sound of distressed guards shouting for reinforcements and for the rangers to look for the intruders, but Bruno remained calm. It was normal for both Kamaria and Bruno to get the enemies riled up and scared; made it a lot easier to get them to scatter and leave the target open for a thirty second interrogation, execution, and removal of intel needed to continue the mission.

It was all part of the plan, and it was going swimmingly to the point that it felt like child’s play.

Minutes go by and by the time Bruno is wondering what could be taking so long, he sees her in all her wondrous and shadow-like glory. A figure is now on the top of the outer walls, dropping guard after guard with precision and skills unlike anyone else. No matter how many folks he has ran into that talked big game about their knife work, Kamaria always made it look like it was natural. The blade was simply an extension of herself, and by default, he loved all of her, knives included.

A brief smirk painted his face at the memories of times she had threatened to gut him, and even actually stabbed him with a knife. It was a playful joke between them that her knives are a part of her love language, and that she greatly loved Bruno after all the times he’s been playfully cut, stabbed, or downright pinned with a blade to his jugular.

And even through all of that, he still loved, admired, and respected her more than he ever thought possible. She gave him a reason to smile, and that was all that he needed to keep going and fight for a future where they can both reside happily, away from the darker parts of their lives.

She made her way across the wall, and she managed to use a rope from up there to rappel down, dodging whatever sharpshooters were firing at her, which prompted for Bruno to return suppressing fire to shield Kamaria’s way to him. Just like they had practiced time and time again, Bruno waited until Kamaria ran past him to collect his gear and sprint off with her, the only trace of them having been there being the left-over bullet casings that the rifle had ejected.

“Did you get what we needed for the client? He seemed adamant about wanting the codex and the key the commandant had around their neck.”

Kamaria flashed the necklace with the key on it to Bruno and pointed at her pouch. “Yes, that wasn’t so bad, but I am annoyed. I left one of my better sets of knives behind. Some guard thought he could sneak up on me and it took two knives to take him down. Can you believe it?”

“Oh, so you are saying you are impressed some dead bloke can take a knife, because last time I checked, I am your royal knife cushion and handsome pillow.”

“Oh, shut up, Bruno.”

Bruno kept up with Kamaria and both laughed as though they had robbed a candy store as children. It was clear they loved what they did, and they found a great enjoyment doing that with one another. Bruno loved her with a passion, and he swore he’d keep her safe for as long as he can draw breath. Nothing could get in the way of true-

Bruno flew to the side, his back hitting a tree with the force of a battering ram, knocking the air out of him and making everything fade in and out, coughing up the dirt and smoke. It was almost like… an explosion just happened. His heart skipped a beat and he pushed himself off from the ground with shaking muscles, the shock of the previous event still getting registered by his mind. His ears were ringing and he looked around the area while his vision adjusted to scene: a medium sized crater in between him and Kamaria.

Wait. Kamaria.

“Kamaria, are you okay?”

No answer… Nothing at all besides the blaring sound of white noise in his ears.

Bruno scrambled up to his feet, swaying and using the tree to keep him steady, staring at Kamaria laying down on the ground. She wasn’t moving.

She didn’t even look like she was breathing. Bruno’s worst nightmare is manifesting into reality, the man throwing himself over the crater and getting to her, rolling her onto her back and seeing the gash on the side of her head, blood flowing out at a rate that made him feel scared.

“K-kamaria? Okay, okay, I am going to touch you and help stop the bleeding, okay?”

No answer yet again, but he couldn’t let it get to him. Oh, how he failed so terribly.

He immediately tore at his tunic, getting a portion of it and gently wrapping it around her head and tying it off, ensuring pressure is placed over the worst of the gash. He was used to her looking peaceful when she slept with him, but this was all so wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to get hurt.

“Kamaria, love, I need you to wake up now…” He gently patted her cheek, a small smile on his face. “You really had me worried there; you know? I… Kamaria?” He realized she still didn’t look like she was breathing, and he felt something in him tear. He was going to lose her. She was going to die on him, and it was because of him.

He lost Miranda to an explosion many years ago, and right when he had finally opened his heart to the wonders of love yet again, another explosion took Kamaria away from him. He shook his head fervently, tears prickling his eyes as he hunched over her, sobbing like he had just lost everything. He did lose everything.

“Kamaria… please come back… don’t leave me here alone again. I can’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else. I can’t live like that again.” He felt his tears fall onto her and it was like everything was crumbling around him all at the same time.

Nothing mattered anymore. She didn’t feel cold to the touch yet and he leaned down to kiss her clothed forehead, his hand gently holding her cheek. He didn’t know if it was his own pulse or hers that he kept feeling, but his eyes locked onto Kamaria’s peaceful face, looking for any sign of life. “Love?”

Bruno heard someone- or a group of people- stepping on the fallen branches and leaves of the forest. The sounds only grew louder, and he knew they were going to be right on top of them. They were coming for them. As if he was going to let those sorry fucks ever get near his Kamaria. His hand wrapped around Kamaria’s favorite blade that was beside her, gripping it with a strength that made him feel like the handle was cutting into his own hand.

Everything felt off now for Bruno. There was nothing tethering him to the world. He had to assume Kamaria was dead now, and that alone awoke something in Bruno that he never thought possible. They hurt her, and they were going to pay.

Standing up slowly, blade in one hand and pistol in another, Bruno’s jaw was clenched hard, and he let out a guttural growl. He turned to face the group that had followed them, and his eyes narrowed, his vision turning red with a rage he welcomed back with open arms from the previous wars he had been in. The main leader of the group stepped forward, a crossbow in hand and aimed at Bruno.

“Drop your weapons!”

He wasn’t going to do that. If he was going to die, he was going to leave the world with honor and the dignity of a warrior dying with their weapon.

“I said, DROP YOUR W-“

They crumpled to the floor and writhed, their hands clawing at their throat with a knife now in it.

Bruno made his way over to the ranger and ripped the blade out, his eyes probably appearing to be devoid of any humanity left. “You took my love, so I am going to make sure you all drown in your own blood by dusk.” With that, he let out a roar and charged the remaining group with a bloody knife and pistol ready to fire, probably more coming behind them.

Let them come. This is for my Kamaria.

#death mentions #assassination mention #organized crime #explosions #knives #violence #murder of npcs #head injuries #emotional whump #ptsd #lady whump #whump #whump ocs #kamaria the assassin #bruno stenberg #brumaria #answered asks #izzy writes

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