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indulgentdaydream · 4 months

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Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”

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cherrirui-official · 3 months

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Uhm uhm uhhh INCREDIBLY self indulgent Trolls Au that's centered around John Dory and Bruce called Beach Bros bc I like them and I think there should be more content surrounding them as a duo *looks at you with my big wet eyes*

EXTREMELY short explanation + design refs under the cut! CW for mentions of drowning

There's a lot I got planned for it but for now the basics is that after I'd say around 8-10 years after Brozone split up, John Dory received the postcard that Bruce sent him. Now bc JD believed none of the other trolls were alive (since he went back after all the pop trolls escaped Bergen Town and found the Troll Tree empty) JD was ECSTATIC to find out that at least one of his brothers was still alive and immediately began searching for Bruce. Took him about a couple of days but eventually JD managed to locate Vacay Island!

And then almost drowned while crossing the waters... On Bruce's fucking wedding day.

After that ordeal, JD decides to live with Bruce and Brandi on Vacay Island!

Again there's a LOT more to it but it's late and I am extremely tired, I'm gonna go to sleep lol. ALSO if y'all have any questions abt the au, feel free to ask! I'd be more than happy to answer them as best as I can :] !!!!

(also while making designs for them I accidentally made JD look much younger than Bruce I think, oops 😔)

#Dreamworks said “lets give Branch not one but TWO cool eldest brothers” and then they cooked #I love Bruce and John Dory so so so so sooo much yall plz bear with me here AUGH #but i HATE drawing their jackets/vests!!! Especially Bruce's vest #so many flowers....#but i draw them anyways havudnsidj #trolls #trolls band together #john dory trolls #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #bruce trolls #beach bros au #cherris canvas #cw near death experience #<- for the almost drowning part #yall i love making AUs so much its unreal

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mintflavouredwhump · 2 months

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A whumpee decides to visit their friend's hometown but fall sick due to food poisoning. Due to a lack of proper medical services, they're forced to pull through with just basic care and some medicine from the local pharmacy.

At some point, the whumpee is so weak with illness that one of their friends has to check their pulse every now and then to make sure that they're still breathing.

#fun fact this actually happened to my father #he told us what happened only when he came back bc he didn't want to scare us #he managed to recover really quick as one of his friends is really knowledgeable about a lot of sicknesses and how to cure them #another fun fact is that my father's friend's hometown is so old that according to him it look like you've stepped into the 12th century #food poisoning #food poisoning whump #sickness whump #travel whump #whump #cw illness #tw illness #tw near death #tw near death experience #cw near death experience #tw whump #whump prompts #whump writing #whump scenario #whump inspiration

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redd956 · 4 months

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Mini Whump Prompt 141

While cave diving whumpee made every stupid decision they could ever possibly make. Stuck and running out of oxygen, a strange monstrous creature came across. A merfolk? A monster? It no longer mattered as the entity understood that whumpees were not supposed to be down here.

#whump prompt #cw near death experience #cw drowning #cw aphyxiation #merfolk caretaker #monster caretaker #siren caretaker #nonhuman caretaker #whumpee #whump prompts #mini whump prompt #human whumpee #mini whump prompts #water whump

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cosmicalart · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday

Scheduled on: 2023-09-12

So this post, along with the rest of the fic, almost didn't happen. I'm perfectly fine now but for those of you interested in my hospital adventure Sunday night, I'll put it under the cut.

Now, I've just about wrapped up chapter two of 'Baz to The Past", I also will have plenty of free time next week, so depending on the progress of chapter three (and how much of chapter two I may need to rewrite) I may be able to start posting the chapters this Sunday on AO3, a whole week earlier than I initially expected.

??? POV

“Fine.” With a huff, Simon stands from his chair and marches out of the room slamming the door behind him. Once his footsteps have faded down the hall, Baz pivots on his heel towards me. “What in Crowley’s name was that? Who’s to say he’s not turning us in right now? You didn’t even seal the deal with magic, there's no consequence if he goes against it!”

Putting tags before the cut this time. IDK who's already posted so no pressure, generous tags to say hello, and if you're not consider yourself tagged if you wanna join.

@aroace-genderfluid-sheep @buffy @thewholelemon @prettygoododds @cultofsappho @fatalfangirl @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @j-nipper-95 @raenestee @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @haikuziejacuzzi @larkral @ionlydrinkhotwater @rimeswithpurple @sailor-blossoms @facewithoutheart @valeffelees

Hospital story under the cut

So Sunday night after work I had a small edible, (I need to preface that it was small and half of what I'd usually take because people tried to blame what happened on the edible) Now I also hadn't eaten dinner yet even though it was 9pm and was craving Mcdonalds (I have a stack of free meal coupons because I work there) so my fiance drives us and our friend who was over to Mcdonalds, then we stopped at our friends place cause he ended up deciding to stay the night and wanted to grab some things.

Everything was fine up to this point, weeds kicking in, having a good time, we got back to the house and ate our food, I'm setting up my laptop to get some writing done, things are good. My fiance is watching youtube poops (just random funny youtube videos if you're not familiar) and normally I don't find them that funny but I was laughing cause I could see the tv from where I was setting up.

Now this is where things go bad quickly. I ended up laughing while trying to swallow my burger and choked, I still had food in my mouth as well as food in my throat as I had been swallowing when something in the video just hit me and made me laugh, so I could not breathe now and panicked, like just froze trying to swallow what was still in my mouth while trying to breathe.

I didn't need the Heimlich, it managed to go down on its own and I could breathe again but something didn't feel right. I felt like something was jammed in my chest as well as the back of my nose and it burned. I tried drinking to see if that would clear it like maybe it just felt funny because I choked. That was not it. After a minute I ended up throwing up and a bit of what felt stuck in my chest dislodged and I realized I legit had food stuck in my lungs.

I was immediately light-headed and felt my heart racing (though that was probably cause panic was setting in) so I went to the living room with the cat freaking out at my feet, told my fiance something wasn't right, threw up again, and then they helped me to the couch because I started losing consciousness.

I do not remember the drive to the hospital, I don't even remember getting there, I just have vague memories of a nurse pulling my hair to check if I was breathing, people screaming my name as I blacked out because I wasn't breathing, vomiting several times trying to clear my lungs, and apparently arguing about wanting a fudgcicle on the way home only to then vomit and pass out again.

I had to be informed about what happened afterward because I stopped breathing several times and had my lips turn blue. From the second they put me on the couch to the morning after when I woke up miraculously alive and in bed, I remember nothing.

Joked with @valeffelees that clearly the universe wanted to give me the good ole' fanfic writer "So I almost died" author note

#snowbaz #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #rainbow rowell #simon snow trilogy #idiots in love #snowbaz fic #baz to the past #wip wednesday #current wip #universe said fuck you #cw near death experience #i lived bitch

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rwac96 · 6 months

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Surviving horrific wounds that hurt like a motherfucker.

#image #image post #crossover #crossover shitpost #dragon ball #dragon ball legends #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #dbz #dbs #rwby #shallot #weiss schnee #zahha #ancient snow #cw impalement #cw stabbing #cw near death experience

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whump-card · 8 months

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Sunless Lives Part 28: I Will Not Bend

~1380 words

CW: forced institutionalization, threatened noncon, drugging, force feeding, attempted murder, character thinks they’re going to die but they don’t!

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

M BECK: I’ve decided something.

DR MANDAL: Oh?

M BECK: It’s not the preybonding. Ever since I was cured I was scared it was just the preybonding. But I don’t think it ever was. I love him. I always did.

DR MANDAL: Does this change your plans for your relationship?

M BECK: It means I have to do what’s right for Simon, whatever that may be.

~~~

“Is Matthew out yet?”

Simon asked that every time Christian visited, roughly every three weeks.

“No.”

The same answer as always.

“I want out.”

Christian’s response to that was the same every time too.

“I’m still working on your list, kid.”

Simon’s eyes darted up and around the visitor’s room. It was far nicer, far cleaner than the rest of Fort Summerwhite. The chairs were comfy. The table was unscratched. The lights worked.

It was a fine facade, and with an orderly watching him from the corner, there was nothing Simon could do to crack it.

He’d tried, the first time Christian had visited. He’d aired his ills until he was in near hysterics, and had been dragged away to a horrifying week in solitary. When he got out he’d groped and clung to Chett for days. The second time Christian visited Simon tried to talk about it, but received a threatening stare from the observing orderly and the distinct impression from Christian that he thought Simon had lost it. He’d taken a tour of the facilities, he said gently, everything seemed so nice.

You don’t need to lie to me to get out of here sooner.

So their visits went nowhere. Christian chatted brightly about how he was rebuilding the team, but never said why Gina and Devon were gone. He talked about how he was taking down the vampires on Simon’s list - he really was doing that, at least, which brought Simon some small relief. He talked about the VIU’s new director; someone had leaked Yarl’s dealings with vampire compounds, and he had to step down. Georgia Dune had replaced him, and was breaking apart compounds with a vengeance.

Simon tried to suggest that he return to work for the VIU, knowing Dune had a soft spot for him, just Christian shut him down.

“You’re still… You need to get better,” Christian said.

Better than what?

He felt fine. He only ever felt strange when Reeder slipped up and he was forced to take some unnamed, unknown medication. Otherwise, he felt sharp as ever - he was eating healthily. He'd blown through all the novels and puzzle books kept in the common room. He needed out. He needed Matthew.

He needed his goddamn phone call.

~~~

He expressed his need to Reeder, the next time he was pulled into the storage closet. It was just the two of them that evening, which wasn’t unusual - Hahns only participated half the time.

“It’s been weeks,” Simon said, doing his best to keep his voice sweet and hopeful rather than the angry snap it wanted to be. “You said you'd see what you could do.”

“I will, I will,” Reeder brushed him off, as usual. He stepped up close to Simon, which was not usual. Simon stepped back, and Reeder followed, until Simon’s back was pressed against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked, no longer sweet.

“I was thinking, now that you’re not skin and bones anymore, your body’s pretty hot. I thought we could take things to the next level.” Reeder’s hands slid over Simon’s hips. Simon knocked them away.

“No,” he said firmly, “That’s not part of the deal.”

“But it could be.” Reeder pressed his hands to the wall on either side of Simon’s head, boxing him in.

Get out, now.

“Nope.” Simon ducked under Reeder’s thick arm, but Reeder caught his shoulder and slammed him back into the wall, pinning him like he had that first day.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here,” he hissed.

This is bad.

Maybe we -

No. Not this time.

Matthew wouldn’t want you to.

Simon jerked his head forward and slammed his forehead into Reeder’s. Reeder stumbled back with a sharp cry. Simon tried to dart around the large man but he caught Simon and shoved him back towards the wall.

“Stop fighting me, you stupid fucking -”

As Reeder hurled slurs and curses, Simon tried once more to push past him. This time Reeder grabbed his shirt, lifted him up, and slammed him into the ground.

Too close to a shelf.

The clang of his skull hitting the bottom shelf of the unit reverberated through Simon’s entire body, stealing his breath, his thoughts, his sight. His head pulsed and pounded as it rolled limply to the side. He saw his own hand twitching uncontrollably through darkened tunnel vision, and Reeder’s feet stepping back and forth. Simon could distantly hear him, swearing and apologizing, then - he was gone. The door was closing.

Simon wasn’t sure how long he laid there, or if he was even conscious the whole time, but Reeder returned eventually. He dropped some things to the ground with a clatter and Simon saw a pill bottle roll into his line of vision. Then a hand turned his face upward and he saw Reeder leaning over him, pill chute in hand.

No.

Reeder pried open Simon’s mouth with ease and shoved the plastic cylinder in, hard and deep. Simon gagged, but had no strength to expel it. He moaned, the plastic in his mouth giving him an eerie animalistic sound. He heard the rattle of the pill bottle, and Reeder’s frantic mumblings.

“It’ll be okay, it’ll all be over soon, don't worry.”

Simon managed to lift a hand towards the chute in his mouth, but Reeder seized it and pinned it down under his knee.

“No no no no no, just hold still!”

He upturned the pill bottle over the chute, and Simon choked and teared up when he felt the pills hit the back of his throat. Then he heard the crinkle of a plastic bottle, and he had only a second to brace before his mouth and throat were flooded with stale water. He gagged and sputtered, sending water up his nose and down the wrong pipe, prompting uncontrollable coughing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Reeder ripped the pill chute out and clamped his hands down over Simon’s nose and mouth. Simon convulsed on the floor, eyes rolling and free hand grabbing weakly at Reeder’s sleeves. The back of his head screamed white-hot where it was being pressed into the floor. The pills and the water swirled in his mouth

“Swallow!” Reeder ordered, as he had many times before, “Just swallow, fucking stupid!”

Eventually Simon obeyed, swallowing painfully with a full-body shudder. Reeder lifted his hands and allowed Simon to gasp and choke for air.

“Reeder,” Simon croaked between coughs, “Reeder, please…”

“Shouldn’t have fought me. Dumn fuckin’ bloodbag,” Reeder said, breathing heavily. He stood, the pill chute clutched in a white-knuckled fist. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m really sorry.” He even sounded like he meant it a little.

“Reeder!” Simon rasped, but Reeder was gone. Simon was alone.

Get it out get it out get it OUT.

It took three tries for Simon to roll onto his side, still coughing and gasping. He felt blood creeping through his hair in hot rivulets. He brought a hand to his mouth and pushed his fingers into his bruised and battered throat. He hadn’t had to force himself to puke in a long time. It was - who was it? - Gloria. He had to empty his stomach after each of her visits. He’d gotten good at it. This would be easy.

But as his fingers weakly prodded and pressed, he only hacked and gagged, nothing more. He reached out, felt around, and found the discarded pill bottle; but his vision was so narrow and blurry he couldn’t read the label. The bottle dropped from his hands as it hit him.

I’m going to die here.

He reached for the door, but he didn’t have the strength to pull himself towards it.

I’m going to die here.

“Help.” His voice was a strangled whisper. No one would ever hear him.

I’m going to die here.

I’m going to die.

~~~

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper

#whump #sunless lives #whump fic #whump writing #sunless lives arc 3 #cw forced institutionalization #cw threatened noncon #cw drugging #cw force feeding #cw attempted murder #cw near death experience

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pizza-games-and-more · 1 year

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ALRIGHT BEFORE WE PLAY SOME HUNGER GAMES WHO WANTS SOME VIGI ANGST?

Be warned: this is the darkest thing I've ever come up with for Pizza Tower. Usually I like to keep it comedic but this one tag inspired my evil side. Enjoy.

---

Vigert Ebenezer Lantte was rightfully wary of water. Too much water would end up mixing with the cheese and slime of a cheeseslime, causing them to melt into liquid. Larger cheeseslimes naturally took longer to do so completely, but for small ones like Vigert, if they weren't quickly fished out of a body of water, they were as good as dead. Vigert managed to barely avoid this fate himself, but at the same time witnessed someone else die to the same thing.

Vigert was around 17 at the time this happened. Him and his grandfather John E. Cheese were out in the forest. Vigert didn't get to go to the forest often. The shade of the trees was refreshing compared to the usual heat of their town, so it was nice heading there once in a while.

In the middle of the forest, there was a small river. Vigert had always been curious about what was on the other side, but crossing it was the only way to get there. Which was a bit of a problem for a Cheeseslime. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to cross the river. He has always wanted to help people, after all. He just didn't know how to do so.

And then, he found something that could help out. There was a tree right next to the river with a long branch overlooking it. There was also a log large enough to make a bridge on the other side. If he could get to the other side by climbing the tree and then putting the log over the river, then they wouldn't have this problem anymore!

Luckily for him, Cheeseslimes were great at climbing things. Simply by making themselves stickier, they could stick to walls and other surfaces. So he did exactly that as he made his way up the tree.

John E. Cheese noticed his grandson climbing the tree and he watched cautiously. He had a feeling Vigert was planning something and didn't want to stop him, but he still watched just in case something happened.

Vigert carefully made his way along the branch. He made sure to stick firmly to the wood so he didn't fall off. His grandfather looked more and more concerned, yet intrigued the further he went along the branch. What was he planning?

John's worries were not unfounded, but it turned out much worse than he expected. As soon as Vigert made it to the section above the river, the branch snapped in half, tumbling into the river and taking Vigert with it.

Immediately upon seeing this, the old Cheeseslime headed to the river as fast as he could and grabbed the branch. But Vigert was no longer holding onto it. He must've already begun melting. He had to find him, and fast.

Vigert felt bits of him break off as he slowly melted into the river. He was at this point certain that he was about to die. He couldn't believe he could be so stupid. His vision was blurred out by the water and he could barely see his grandpa rushing over to where he was by the river and reaching out to grab him.

As John grabbed his grandson and started pulling him up, he slipped and ended up in the river himself. Desperate to save Vigert, he held himself together long enough to throw him as far as he could before collapsing in the river and melting himself. He only hoped someone would come and find and help his grandson after this.

Vigert was now small enough to fit completely in his hat. He hadn't been this small and helpless since he was a toddler. There was only enough space for him to peek through and see his grandfather's body melting and dissolving into a yellow goop, followed by his hat and glasses floating on the top.

Vigert wanted desperately to go in there and save his only family, but he'd lost his strength throughout that whole experience and could only watch before passing out from exhaustion.

As he did so, the trickling sounds of the river taunted and tormented him.

#pizza tower #fic #character: the vigilante #character: john e. cheese #cw near death experience #cw non comedic death #for the record that implication was not what i intended with the original post #but that tag was so good i couldn't help myself

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methotrex8 · 10 months

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So I’m drunk in an airport rn and I’ve got a story for y’all, but I’m going to do it in green text format because that’s easiest

>be me

>always wanted to see the sky without light pollution because hehe star machine go burrrrr

>go on vacation to Nevada with my husband

>were advertised to visit the Massacre Rim sake sky sanctuary in the High Rock Canyon wilderness

>rent 4wd truck because all website said is that was what it required to get out there

>was a fucking lie

>truck gets stuck in ridiculous amounts of mud

>water up to bumper

>stranded over night

>literally thought I was going to die in the desert with my husband

>panic because I thought I was never going to see my mom or anyone else I love ever again

>walk two hours to get rescued by some ranchers

>currently trying to get home

>actually miss Ohio

>but oddly enough still love Nevada even though she tried to kill us

#long story short f you want to see the stars go to gerlach Nevada it’s way safer #it’s where they do burning man #the people there are sooooo nice #so are the people of cedarville California #we met some incredible people on this misadventure #I’m just glad someone found us sooner rather than later #massacre rim #black rock desert #Nevada #tw near death experience #cw near death experience

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chaosheadspace · 1 year

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The softness of light

Warnings: drowning, near death experience.

Also on AO3.

The lake was peaceful. In the red glow of the hot July evening the water almost had a siren's call and Dream was glad Hob had managed to persuade him to come. He'd brought a small bag with waterbottles and fruit in plastic containers, watermelon and grapes and peaches. They would be warm and a little soft later, when they would have finished swimming, but Dream didn't mind. Maybe he'd get to see Hob lick his own juice-sticky fingers after they ate.

They had splashed around and reveled in the cool relief of the water. Now Hob was swimming a few laps around the lake, and Dream let himself float on his back, looking up into the cloudless red-orange-gold sky. He was retired for all of three months now. Hob had been very kind, very understanding, and had offered to take him in as long as it would take Dream to adjust, as long as he wanted. Dream wondered if Hob knew that those were two very different timeframes.

A bird flew overhead, through Dream's field of vision. He tried to see what kind of bird it was and turned his head.

A mistake, that's what it was. Dream's body followed the motion of his neck, folded and sunk like a stone, water sloshing and crackling in his ears. Breath escaped him in a surprised gurgle and bubbled upwards. He regretted it immediately, the pressure in his empty lungs cold and agonising.

Fear and adrenaline spiked his blood as he struggled to get closer to the surface again. He was not good at swimming, never had to be. His body was too new, too different. Heavier than Dream was used to. Too heavy. He sank deeper.

Stupid, he scolded himself, reckless. He should have taken the time to learn. He had felt too sure, too safe, because Hob was with him. Hob, who currently was at the other side of the lake.

His body bucked and strained with pointless effort, the need for air overwhelming. Panic gripped him tight, squeezed Dream's heart and made his blood thunder. The harder he struggled, the faster he sank. He was too weak, too inexperienced. He was alone.

Dream gave in. Breathed in. Sucked water and pain into his lungs, the liquid in his throat and mouth denying him a scream. Dream gave up. Let go. He let himself hang in the water, limbs floating. The inside of the lake was eerily calm, soft light and quiet gurgling all around him, like the beginning of a nightmare. It hurt.

The water darkened around him and Dream's lungs spasmed, another bolt of pain. With a soft thud, he felt himself land on the mud at the very bottom of the lake. His thinking grew hazy.

He was familiar with the concept of life flashing before one's eyes moments before dying. As far as Dream considered it, he'd been alive for three short months. No memories from before disturbed his last conscious moments; instead, the first thing his fallible human brain showed him on the verge of death was Hob's face, elated, surprised, as he opened the door and found his friend in front of it.

That was the only thing Dream could bring himself to regret, the missed opportunities to thank Hob. He would have liked to show him his gratitude, in any way Hob would have permitted. He would have liked to let Hob know what he truly meant to him. Three months was a short time. Three months could have been an eternity.

His lungs spasmed again, pain flashing through his chest. The soft, undulating light from the surface grew dim as his vision darkened at the edges. Dream's limbs thrashed without his doing, his body fighting for air again that would not come, disturbing the sludge on the bottom. Despite the growing panic of his body Dream felt calm. He would die. He knew he would from the beginning, knew it from the moment he felt the endless murmur of billions of minds leave his consciousness. Had been content, even, in the knowledge his time was limited. If he only had known how limited.

The pressure and pain inside him grew, his nerves twitched. Dream let go of all shame and pretense. There was no use for them now. He wanted his soul to know a little peace before he would meet his sister for the last time.

Dream imagined Hob's broad, smiling mouth, soft against his own, imagined his hair under his fingers. Yes, he would have liked that. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a dark shape coming towards him.

xXx

When Dream came to, it was to even more burning pain in his lungs, in his throat, in his mouth. His body shook as something hit his back with force.

"Come on," he could hear Hob's voice, "come on, you silly idiot, breathe."

Dream tried to tell him that he tried, would try for him, that he could not. Water poured out of him through his mouth and nose. It was worse than vomiting. It curled his whole body, it felt like fire. Again and again Hob hit him, and again and again water left Dream's body in waves, until finally, finally, there was air again. The air hurt, too, but less than the water and it tasted impossibly sweet, like sunshine and life.

Dream coughed and turned around, clung to Hob's shoulders as his body hacked up the last remainder of the liquid.

"That's it," praised Hob, "that's it, get it out. You swallowed the whole bloody lake, didn't you?"

The coughs turned into harsh pants as Dream greedily sucked in air. All he could focus on was the fact that he was still very much alive, and that Hob's skin under his hands was very warm. Dream sunk against Hob's chest, all restraint spat out with the water. Turning his face into coarse hair and soft skin he let himself cry. Hob wrapped his arms around him, held him, rocked him like a child.

"Sssshhh," Hob soothed, "I've got you. You're okay. I've got you."

Dream wordlessly put his arms around Hob's waist in response. He was glad that he'd been given another chance. This time, he'd make it right.

#cw near death experience #cw drowning #the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #my fic #retired!dream

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disasociatehaze · 1 year

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I finally worked up the courage to post one of my in-progress crossover fics. It's a BNHA x FF7 fic because I think it's a severely lacking niche with a ton of potential. This one in particular because it's prologue works better as a stand alone than the others I got and if it gets a decent enough response here I'll actually make an AO3 account. Not sure where it's going yet story wise, but its going somewhere. Comments and critiques are accepted.

Wake Up, King o’ the Cats

Prologue

People hadn’t always had quirks, it was only 200 years ago that people started developing supernatural powers that became common in society today. However, it was only after the dawn of quirks that people started to don the costumes— that were once staples of the superhero comics they once read— to stop superpowered crime that it became an official profession. Pro-Heroes is what they were called from then on.

Izuku had always known he would be a hero when he grew up— had said as much with unflinching confidence whenever he was asked. When he was told he couldn’t be a hero because he was quirkless, he simply looked confused while his mother was devastated. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t be a hero without a quirk because he already knew that quirks did not make a hero. Heroes were not what were shown on tv or on the corners of the street; heroes were people who gave everything to make sure people were safe and keep the real criminals from hurting anyone again. Heroes are different from Pro-Heroes, though All Might was definitely both. Izuku liked All Might even if he thought his smile was strained.

That day, when they got home from the doctors office he didn’t ask his mom if he could be a hero. He just grabbed some paper and started to draw. When Inko asked if he was alright, he looked at her solemnly and told her with confidence he would still be a hero. Had Inko not broken into tears to hug her son— who was clearly in denial, she would have noticed the drawing Izuku had made. She would have seen her son holding hands with a cat in a cape and a crown surrounded by others, all of them wearing a pink ribbon on their arms with the exception of the girl wearing it in her hair.

Later the drawing was carefully stored in a drawer, but forgotten. Izuku made many drawings after (some similar to the first; others more like blueprints) and learned all he could as he grew older. His thirst for knowledge was seemingly unquenchable. He was still bullied by his classmates for his quirkless status, but it always felt like it wasn’t worth dwelling on for him when he had blueprints to make. He didn’t need a quirk to be a hero, not when he could just design support items to fight with. Izuku would never stop fighting to improve life for others— he knew he was an unstoppable force with enough effort.

Izuku hadn’t realized why he was so odd until this moment as his life flashed before his eyes, suffocating in the grasp of the sludge monster villain.

He was immobilized with no way to escape.

Izuku was falling asleep.

Maybe now he could rest.

As Izuku drifted to sleep, he remembered his life as the world faded to a soft green and began to smell of flowers. A chime of laughter on the wind urged him conscious along with a light slapping to his cheek.

Reeve awoke and he wished All Might had just let him sleep.

#fanfic #crossover fanfiction #crossover au #ff7 crossover fanfic #bnha crossover #mha crossover #reincarnation au #izuku midoriya is reeve tuesti #cw near death experience #i wrote this #might post to ao3 #izuku midoriya #reeve tuesti #wrote this instead of sleeping #inko tries her best but is way off the mark #third person pov #sort of #is this unreliable narrator? maybe?#first posted fanfic

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windkeepcr · 2 years

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Seasons don’t fear the reaper, nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain. Come on baby, take my hand, we’ll be able to fly.

the mortal sun has risen and set a thousand thousand times, and 𝗔𝗘𝗢𝗟𝗨𝗦 is yet bound to the earthly realm, the reincarnation loop continues. this time their mortal coil has taken the shape of oliver jackson-cohen, a human born on 15 february, 1987, an aquarius and named 𝗝𝗨𝗗𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗕𝗟𝗨𝗠.

BACKGROUND. CONNECTIONS. [CW for both pages: dr*wning, near d**th experience]

with aeolus’ consciousness tucked away from their own, they have some indication of the complexity of who they are, and what they are, and that has only really served to add more confusion and questions. when, or even if, the barrier between the immortal aeolus and the mortal jude is broken down, they will be able to harness the ability to conjure storm winds and communicate with horses, which are more powerful the closer time is to a solstice or equinox. until that day, as the greek god-king of winds and minor god of the sea, jude continues to unknowingly influence the world and be influenced by, the immortal being within them, manifesting in calmed winds when he is at trojan horse ranch.

in the mean time, jude is a cis male using he/him to define themselves, and is thirty-four years old. life goes on for them as most everyone else’s does; working at trojan horse ranch as an animal handler, and if he can’t be found there, he can usually be found at the agoge gym, doing mma training. they are originally from brisbane, australia and they now live in rock rose park. to date, jude has been on magnetic island for 8 years.

#eternal! intro #cw drowning #cw near death experience

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cyggiestardust · 5 months

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Medical, hospital, anaphylaxis, NDE

again

And again I say from the emergency room, "NOT FUCKIN TODAY DEATH" after having sat a very productive session at the altar and rising to discover, from the aid of my ESA's insistence, that the new lotus incense I'd used for communion used

JUNIPER

in its recipe somewhere, and my little Eye In the Dark was trying to tell me that no, I wasn't panicking, I mean yes I was panicking but no yeah, I was going into anaphylaxis.

Again.

But this time it was worse, because I was home alone and had to think fuckin fast about my next moves because I knew I wouldn't be able to find the name brand epipen and I would never be able to do ten seconds while I was fading out.

So I chew first like 3, then like 2 more Claritin while I'm on with the 911 operator that I desperately had to figure out how to first dial, and then explain my situation. I lost count.

I don't drop, I deflate. I was deflating.

I managed to disassemble the thing properly but then, reading comprehension disappeared.

I can't tell you how many times my guide yelled at me to get back to my body.

Again, I'm hearing the lights and they sound like if you turned a whiny dude asking "but why won't you do it" but it's in Enochian or something (it wasn't English) and the last thing that happens before it's still is there's that one "ba-BAM" that usually means I'm either on the way In or Out.

The NEXT thing I know I've managed to convey to the cop I need help somehow because he's got the Epipen going and doing the ten second countdown.

The way the lungs stop in this reaction, I stop being able to get the air in, but out works so well that it'd be like...well you know those vacuum sealer bags? It's like that. And you stop being able to communicate (I mean the voice needs air). I had to pidgin sign it to him because it was all the strength I had before I dropped.

I could feel the epinephrine as it went through my body. It felt like pulling the Middle Pillar ritual in reverse, with this...orb of fire working its way up through the body, restarting my heart and blasting my airways open with the same violence as just stabbing the bag with a pen instead of opening it properly.

I can tell you that the fast one, the name brand one, works so fast that it hurts, and your return breath could probably be heard a floor down.

The slow ones, they move slow enough that you can feel things restarting, almost gently, and I was aware enough to know that the ball of fire that I was about to exhale and inhale at the same time didn't make a noise.

My roommate once said that my face in front of them dying on the couch over and over was one of THE big traumas that led up to our eventual handparting. I thank everything in existence basically that they didn't have to see it a second time, because even with my quick thinking, I would have had to be jolted back manually.

...what nobody tells you is a chunk of the fight is gonna be the ride to the hospital.

The reaction decided to do laps around my body and wreak havoc on every system. At one point I was WILDLY arrhythmic — tachychardic — now there's fever and chills. There go the hives, under the electrodes of all places. Throat spasms.

Then I start hearing the lights again, with the screaming glowing grey white light and the music, and I know I'm gonna spend this entire ride basically fighting god, as it were, because this isn't where I get off and as much as I can feel Death dragging me Out I'm fighting back like I'm fighting the mob in knee deep swamps.

Convulsions are "fun." I basically fell in and out of my body for the entire ride. I'm dizzy and tired.

I would later discover my Fitbit logged this as 99 floors. (The app makes a more conservative estimate of 26.)

As dismissive as the EMTs in the ambulance started off, I've found out that they'd rather I not check myself back out home without getting usable cardiac numbers. Remember the symptoms cycling around thing? We couldn't get heart numbers because they were wild at the time.

So I'm here for the rest of the night basically until they're SURE stepping into the house isn't just going to give me a case of the die again.

#cyggie ramble #cw medical #cw nde #cw near death experience #this is your last warning I am a writer this is going to be graphic

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musiclover2732 · 6 months

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almost got into a car crash today while Is It Over Now? was playing and it would’ve been kinda funny if i died to that song

i just kept singing and dancing because it’s not like i could do anything about it and my mum (who was the one driving) was kinda annoyed that i barely had a reaction

#the amount of times ive almost died listening to taylor swift is astonishing #is it over now?#1989 (taylor's version)#taylor swift #cw near death experience

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too-many-blorbos · 9 months

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Part Three of Prisoner's Dilemma fiction

The fall felt like an eon.

No, that's the wrong word– an eon is an immeasurable length of time, in which anything can happen. The fall was a mere moment, but it was a frozen moment. No time for change. Just the world pausing, letting my mind take in that sliver of time to the fullest before moving to its inevitable conclusion. I felt many things during that pause. Surprise at the interruption. Outrage at the timing. Fear, shockingly–though I blamed the fall itself for that.

Acceptance soon pushed out the other emotions, though. Whatever awaited me, I couldn't avoid it, so there was no point in dreading it. Perhaps it would even be a boon– perhaps in death, I would rejoin the men I called family. That thought brought me comfort, and I greeted my end with serenity as the rope yanked taut.

And then just as suddenly went slack. The next thing I knew, I was on my back with the wind knocked out of me. I stared up, dazed. Above me, the rope's frayed end swayed in the wind.

The executioner leaned over the hole and met my eye again. "You're one lucky louse," she remarked, sounding almost impressed. "It's been five years since a rope snapped on me."

I sat up and felt at the noose still collaring me. The rope had indeed snapped; a foot of it dangled above the knot. I stared at the unraveling fibers, at a loss for words. At a loss for thought, even. This… was not an outcome I'd anticipated.

"Stop the executions!" The colonel repeated. From my vantage point, I could only see her boots and the dyed legs of her steed. In my stupor, all I could think was that the dye pattern was surprisingly simple for such a high-ranking officer. Practical.

The warden came from the sidelines to greet her. "What are your orders, Colonel? I was told to empty the jail."

"And you will." The colonel snapped. "I'm taking custody of the remaining inmates. They must be prepared to march out by day's end."

The whinging among the prisoners turned to baffled mumbles. The prison staff around us reacted much the same way.

"My lady," the warden ventured delicately, "They are, of course, at your disposal. But please enlighten me on the reason for this sudden change in orders."

The colonel huffed. She indulged him in a professional, though impatient, tone. "Commander Grey is plotting a new strategy. We require extra hands, and as THESE hands were going to end up lifeless in a ditch anyway, we're commandeering them for more productive things."

Ah. They needed expendables. I rose and dusted myself clean, or as clean as I could manage. The prison staff, still confused, herded my peers back into the shade of the prison. One man resisted, shoving past the guards to confront the colonel.

“What have you in store for us, high-cap?” He glowered at the soldiers. “Is it not enough to take our freedom and dignity in this hell-forsaken place? Must you also drag us like cattle to be slaughtered on the front lines?”

“You can be slaughtered here if you prefer,” the colonel quipped back mockingly. She spurred her horse toward the stables, not deigning to give any more attention to her lessers. The petulant prisoner was pushed back into line, and I along with him. As we filed into captivity once again, I tugged the noose off and tossed it to the ground. My end had been postponed.

For now.

#cw war mention #cw near death experience #is that something I should tag? I'll tag it just in case #blorbo's prisoner's dilemma

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