seen from Singapore
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from Moldova
seen from Kosovo
seen from South Korea
seen from China
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
Hidden Cracks
Fandom: 9-1-1
Rating: T
Words: 628
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz
Characters: Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley, Henrietta "Hen" Wilson
Tags: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Punctured Lung, Mentioned Howie "Chimney" Han, Mentioned Bobby Nash, Injured Eddie Diaz, Hurt Eddie Diaz, Bad Decisions, Hiding Injuries, Fighter Eddie Diaz
Summary: Eddie takes a hit to his already cracked, unknown to anyone else, ribs.
Punctured Lung
Nova and Amilia crashed to the ground. Slowly Amilia sat up, coughing. She looked around. It took her a moment before she noticed Nova on the ground not so far from her. He was curled up on his side, arms folded around his middle.
“Nova?” Amilia asked.
He groaned and just lifted his head slightly his head slightly.
“Amilia?” he muttered, winching, pressing his hand against his ribs. It hurt more than he wanted to admit. He was sure that he had more than one broken rib, going by how hard it was to keep breathing.
“I’m here” Amilia said as she struggled to her feet, looking around “What happened? Where are we?”
Nova groaned as he slowly sat up. He tried to take a deep breath, but a sharp pain shot through the right side of his chest. It caused him to gasp for breath. His chest felt tight and he couldn’t take a proper breath. So he just settled for short gasping breaths.
He looked around, keeping his hand pressed against his chest. It looked like they were in some kind of industrial area. He did not recognize anything.
“Shit... I don’t know” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his eyes. His vision blurred, going out of focus for a moment.
Amilia stumbled towards him, going down on her knees. “Are you alright?” she asked softly.
Nova blinked a few times before looking over at her. “I’m fine...” he muttered.
She bit her lip. “You’re lying to me” she said softly “But that’s fine... “
Clenching his jaw, Nova slowly got to his feet. The world around him turned slightly and Amilia caught his arm.
“You idiot” she said. His breathing sounded off, a bit to irregular and shallow for her liking. “You’re not alright... If you need help... You need to tell me. I’ll... I’ll do what I can...”
Nova just placed a hand on her wrist.
“I’m alright...” he said, his breathing wheezing through his chest.
“Like hell you are” Amilia said “Your breathing’s off. Meaning you injured yourself somewhere... I’m not an idiot, Nova”
***
First time submitting, probably isn't good, and this isn't on theme, b u t: punctured lungs. Whether the whumpee gets stabbed in the chest just a little too hard or a bullet decides to settle in it's new home and not come out, gimme 'em. Gimmie that suddenly out of breath whumpee struggling to get some air only to realize that it hurts to do so.
Not good??? It’s bloody brilliant! Well done on your first TAT. You must send more! :)
Hey hey hey, it's ya gurl, Tay... sooooo was wonderin, if you wanted to of course, write Jay's Halstead/Chicago PD/ and punctured lung. And then NCIS NO/Laselle/roadside surgery? Only if you can! Thank you love
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fandom: Chicago PD
Whumpee: Jay Halstead
Prompt: Punctured Lung
WC: 1,700
Summary: whump fix it fic for 6x22 when the surveillance van gets shot up with Jay and Hailey inside.
Night in the Woods (part 1)
Don't scream. You absolutely can't scream. He knows this hurts - they both do. You have to make sure Tad doesn't realize how much it hurts.
Lorenzo’s entire body was tensed against the ropes circled around him, wrists pulling against the bonds where they were restrained behind his back. Through the dappled leaves above him, the Ifrit could see the moon shining pitilessly down on the gruesome scene below.
He grit his teeth, breathing harshly through his nostrils. The face of the man with the sword - Kraes - swam above him. The blade dripped blood in a steady drizzle onto Lorenzo’s chest, as if it was attempting to flow back into the body it had been spilled from. It would be easy to do so: Lorenzo’s chest was a ruin of shallow gashes, the remains of his shredded shirt splayed out on either side of him. The tattered red fabric framed his torso like the skin of a butchered animal.
But Lorenzo wasn't dead yet.
Sweat trailed across his face as he turned his head to the side, the pine needles sticking to his cheek as he looked over at the other paladin. He seemed miles away. He was shouting, struggling against the two men holding him on his knees. His eyes met Renzo's, but Renzo couldn't focus on his face enough to read it.
There was a flash of movement, a pressure, then the sharp, familiar pain as his side was lanced with Kraes’ sword. He shut his eyes, blocking Tad from his vision, agony and nausea sending spots flashing across his darkened eyelids.
A low moan escaped him. He tasted blood.
The moan rapidly cascaded into another sound; Renzo heard himself make a sort of sobbing gasp, the kind of desperate near-whimper that he hadn't heard leave his own lips for decades. Each inhale was more painful than the next, each exhale more difficult. It was impossible to breathe without pain, and the pain was a rushing, roiling thing that traveled along his body like a tidal wave.
His breathing more shallow now, Renzo opened one eye and looked up at the sky again. The moon was still visible.
A blur of motion flashed in Lorenzo’s periphery. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth just as the pain from the new stab hit him, sending searing, firey bursts around the wound and across his entire chest.
His mouth hung open slightly as he tried to catch his breath. The fact that he could breathe at all meant that Kraes wasn't aiming to kill, yet. With his chest fully exposed, it would be simple to puncture his lung. He could feel his clothing soaking through with blood as Kraes trailed the edge of the blade along his skin, cutting shallow slivers in the flesh.
He's toying with me. Tad said this is what he does. Endure it, Renzo.
Renzo focused on his breathing, gasping out long, steady puffs of air. He could faintly hear Tad screaming, though whether the words were directed at him or at Kraes, Renzo couldn't tell. A dark mist was forming hazily around the edges of his perception, dulling sight and sound and smell. Even the pain was beginning to fade…
That is, until Kraes kneeled down next to Lorenzo and, in a motion so fluid it seemed effortless, ran the longsword he was holding between two of the Ifrit’s ribs. The shooting agony was suddenly immense, and Renzo arched his back, his whole body fighting against the bindings lashed tightly around him.
He heard a voice, very close by.
“Does he make that face for you?”
Lorenzo found he could still breathe; the man with the sword knew what he was doing, he had expertly avoided all of Renzo's major vital spots. With Lorenzo tied down the way he was, utterly immobilized, it was child’s play for Kraes to carefully aim his blade at whatever he wanted to pierce next.
This is nothing. This is no worse than what He did to me. If I can stand that, I can stand anything. And Kraes wants to torture me. He doesn't want to kill me. So I'll be fine. He doesn't want me dead.
Kraes hovered in Renzo's vision for some time, watching the paladin thrash in the bloodsoaked dirt.
Then he stood up, abruptly, and the tip of his sword punctured Renzo's skin, near his sternum, barely pressing into the muscle. Lorenzo struggled to make out what Kraes was saying, but it didn't seem like he was addressing Renzo. His words faded in and out as Renzo tried to keep calm.
“Do you know… resurrection magic…? It's been…hasn't it… you must be able to…”
Mid-sentence, the light pressure of the blade became another bolt of searing fire burning through his chest. Renzo's vision was blotched with violent colors that moved and merged without pattern or design.
And when he tried to rake in a breath of air, he felt as if there was a stack of bricks on his chest. His lungs wouldn't expand, and Lorenzo could taste something hot and metallic flowing up through his throat, filling his mouth and pooling down the sides of his face.
His eye opened wide and Renzo turned to look at Tad again, desperate to catch his gaze, but he couldn't see him. His cheek was pressed to the dirt as he searched the darkness for Tad's face.
Everything was dark. He could hear noises, faint, muffled noises, but he couldn't tell where they were coming from.
Blood trailed from his lips into the dirt. He tried to rake in air, but it was as if his body had given up on him. Each failed gasp sent keening, white-hot agony through his chest and up to his head.
He felt dizzy and sick. Blackness crawled over his vision like some great, primordial beast. He could taste copper. His single eye flickered shut.
Everything went black.
There was a moment - just a moment - of utter darkness, silence, painlessness.
Lorenzo was floating in a great inky expanse, rushing toward something bright and warm-
Then he was raking in a desperate, strangled gasp of air, tasting his own blood as it was pulled down into his lungs. His eye snapped open, and the first thing he saw was Tad's face, staring at him.
In an instant, the pain hit him, crushing Lorenzo down into the dirt as he felt the injuries anew. He had been holding it together before, but the brief respite into unconsciousness had seemingly flicked a switch.
The intermittent pain before had been bad, chaotic and unpredictable, but this was worse because it was constant. He couldn't think; his body had a stranglehold on his mind, forcing it to pay attention to the damage being done.
Now Lorenzo did scream.
His punctured lung had been healed, and he screamed, eyes shut tight against blinding tears of agony, flecks of blood misting in the air.
The faint, distant voice of Kraes spoke above him, and though Lorenzo could hear him, he could barely understand the words being spoken. They were in Taldane, sure, but they made no sense.
“Wow. I had actually killed him, that time. He wasn't suffering anymore…and you brought him back to be tortured again…Are you still a paladin?”
