#tw: near drowning
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The shapes a bright container can contain!
III. “Who’s looking after you?” Draco asked.
He was sitting in a slat backed chair he’d dragged up beside her bed. It seemed mean that the few private rooms in the Hogwarts infirmary only held a twin bed and a side-table, far more like a prison cell than he felt was appropriate but perhaps reflective of the very little time anyone at Hogwarts had spent at Azkaban. Hermione was propped up with pillows, her hands laid flat on the white coverlet on her lap. Her hair had been washed but not tended especially well, wrestled back into an unruly, lumpy plait that spoke to unfamiliarity with either charms or potions. There was a cup of tea on the table, apparently untouched, as was the iced biscuit tucked at the base of the saucer.
“What do you mean—”
“I mean, who notices when you leave meals early? That you’re too pale, that you always answer when anyone asks, that you don’t count any danger to yourself too great? Who should’ve been the one to follow you, to stop you. To keep you from drowning?” Draco said, his voice a little too tightly controlled, too calmly even for her to not to be aware he somehow, for some reason, was nearly incandescent with rage. “It shouldn’t have been me. You’d never have thought I’d come running—I almost didn’t come, didn’t run, except that the children were too quiet—"
“They were scared,” she said.
“They bloody well should have been,” he said. “I was terrified—”
“I look after myself,” she said, answering the earlier question. She looked down at her hands but he didn’t think she saw them.
“You look after other people,” he countered. She looked up, startled. But not offended, not yet. Perhaps she wouldn’t be. “I understand, when we were children, everyone thought you were the brightest witch of our age. You knew better than everyone else, it was all right to rely on you but now—Potter doesn’t try? Neville?”
“Harry was brought up by people who treated him about as badly as your father treated House-elves. And then he lost Sirius and Molly basically commandeered him as an honorary Weasley with years of parenting to be made up for. She can be rather smothery, it’s not an approach he could really model himself after,” Hermione said. “He’s not very good at it. And he uses most of what he’s got to give on his own children, as he should.”
“Fine. I think you’re cutting him too much slack but I am willing to admit you know him better. But Neville? It’s not like him, not to notice, he’s always been so fond of you,” Draco said, trailing off.
“Exactly,” Hermione replied. “I can’t—it’s not fair to him, when he feels one way and I…”
“He’s in love with you and you only care about him as a friend, so you don’t let him get close,” Draco said.
“You’re as blunt as a bludger,” Hermione said.
“If you mean a Gryffindor, you might as well say it,” Draco shrugged. “You nearly died, I’m trying not to tax you too greatly.”
“You needn’t worry,” she said.
“You’re wrong. I know it’s an unfamiliar experience for you and that you’re likely to tell me I’m the one who’s wrong,” he said.
“Because you are,” she replied.
“No, I’m not. Because I’m the one who dragged you out of a loch in Scotland in November, because you couldn’t get yourself out, despite being one of the most powerful witches alive in England,” he said. “Someone else needs to worry about you. Though I prefer looking after, since worrying is largely ineffectual and won’t stop you from depleting your entire magical core, a real feat, I must add, given your previously mentioned magical strength, and getting yourself killed or at least maimed without the prospect of any recovery, if we go by your predilections. And it will surely be in a way that creates maximum guilt in your friends and associates. Neville will be beside himself and Potter may end up going through a midlife crisis and becoming the next Dark Lord. He’ll grow a goatee and be generally intolerable.”
“You know what a midlife crisis is?” Hermione said. Her lips curved and he realized it was the first time he’d seen her smile in months. A real smile, where the expression in her eyes matched.
“Yes, I don’t live under a rock. Potter would be a little young by Wizard standards, but I think like you, he still sees himself as a Muggle first,” Draco replied.
“Not wrong,” she said.
“Oh, are we playing a game now?” Draco said. “I’ll win. You’ve always been pants at chess and you can’t stand Quidditch.”
“Draco, what do you want?” she said. She settled back against the pillows and he could feel her exhaustion. The Hogwarts linens were too thin. She ought to be covered in a fluffy duvet, supported by a featherbed. There should be a pair of sheepskin slipper warming on a fender.
“I want you to be properly looked after. I’ve—we’ve both lost too many people in our lives. I don’t want you to be someone else who’s lost,” he said. “I spoke to Abbott and the Headmistress, they allowed me to see whether your quarters were adequate for your recovery and the suite is hardly better kitted out than this room, might as well belong to a hermit—”
“You had no right,” she said.
“You’re right. I didn’t. But I did ask permission from your physician and your superior. When Neville heard, he didn’t scold me,” Draco said. “All the plants he gave you are dead, by the way. Even the metalmalarky cactus”
“You still haven’t said what you want. Not directly,” she replied.
“I want to look after you. Myself. I have a property nearby. You know I don’t live in the dungeons like Snape did,” Draco said. The man had been a masochist or Dumbledore had had him under house arrest. There was no way Draco would ever have agreed to live adjacent to his classroom and he certainly wasn’t going to allow the Hogwarts dungeon to be his son’s home. He and Astoria had bought the small estate shortly after Scorpius was born, an act of faith that the baby would not be a Squib and a commitment to being present in their child’s life as neither of their own parents had been.
“You want me to live in your house?”
“It’s a not insignificant property. There’s a carriage house, entirely separate. But it’s got all the mod cons and a library, a conservatory,” he said.
“A carriage house with a conservatory. Only you, Malfoy. Will you feed me hothouse grapes from your lily-white hand?” she said.
“I’ll stock the library with Regency romances, as you seem to have a taste for them,” he said, slipping the cufflinks out of his cuffs and rolling them back so she could see the calluses on his palms, the spatter of old burns he’d never bothered to fully heal. “Not lily-white. Say yes, Hermione. Let me help—”
“You’ll badger me endlessly if I refuse, won’t you?” she said. She could have sighed and didn’t. He let himself hope.
“I’ll have to. I don’t fancy a repeat of today’s dip in the loch. The Squid is whatever squid is for handsy,” he said. She raised an eyebrow and he decided to pivot. “It was too close. Please. Please allow it.”
“I suppose since you’ve asked so nicely, I’d be an utter wretch to refuse,” she said.
“Yes, I think that would be the consensus. Here and of course, elsewhere. Abroad. Across the pond,” Draco said, relief making him a bit giddy. “Shall I go on?”
“I think I’d rather nap for a little while. Then Hannah can tell us whether I’m allowed to Side-along or whether we’ll have to take Muggle transport.”
“That’s fine. I’ll get everything sorted. Let the looking after commence,” he replied, lowering his voice as Hermione’s eyes grew dozy.
#dramione#hermione x draco#draco POV#hogwarts professors AU#epilogue what epilogue#hurt/comfort#tw: near drowning#slow burn#harry potter#neville longbottom#caretaking as a love language#draco loses his temper judiciously
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Sensitive content under the cut. See tag. Signed the Mod.
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A few minutes later, once things have settled down enough ...
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For reasons you don’t understand yet, you get the feeling something had happened that wasn’t supposed to happen.
#Simon#Manaphy#Belle#Indeedee#Marc#Raichu#Ben#Roserade#AskPrinceManaphy#Plot#Pokeask#TW: Near Drowning
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Next
It hadn't occurred to him just how hard it would be to breathe sand. Inhale, exhale, it was all sand. And something liquid and burning in his throat. He couldn't quite understand what it was that made him feel like this, but it forced his breath to become shallow.
He didn't know how long he'd laid there, clutching something in his right hand, lying facedown in the sand. All he knew is that it felt like forever, and it felt like torture. He was freezing, though he didn't know why. The wind wasn't helping. Waves lapped at his feet all the way up to his waist, renewing the feeling of tingling and numbness in his lower body. Something wet, clothy and sticky was clinging to his clothes. There was sand everywhere.
His vision swam. He didn't know where he was. He didn't recognize a thing. His left fingertips could feel but a touch of the water, yet he couldn't flinch away because he felt locked in place, as if covered in cement. He was frozen. Stuck.
By the time the sun began to fall, he heard footsteps. It was hard, but he opened his eyes--no, just one eye. The other was stuck closed with dried sea salt. Immediately, he was hit with bright light, unable to see until he adjusted for a moment. All that entered his vision was more sand, as well as a pair of strange-looking shoes and... a thing.
He didn't know what Thing it was, but it was a Thing, and it was beautiful, and it looked worried. It was yipping, saying something. He didn't know what, but somehow, its voice felt comforting.
Another voice--one that spoke a human language--began to fret, very loudly, in a strange accent. It wasn't bad, but... He'd never heard it before. Or... maybe he had? Somehow it sounded vaguely familiar, as if maybe he'd heard other people speaking like this before, but something within him told him that No, this is the first time you've heard anyone speak... ever.
The owner of the human voice--a human, as it turns out--knelt hastily at his side and began saying other things. Orders, he vaguely recognized, to other Things nearby.
"My boy, please be still--I will turn you over and-- Oshawott, give me a hand, would you? Please--" he pleaded with the Things, which obliged.
The figure turned him over onto his back and suddenly the sun itself glared into his retinas, but he couldn't flinch. He was frozen, shivering but locked in place, breathing, but barely. Something wriggled between his chest and arm, nestling in at his side and resting its elongated snout onto him. The Thing--the warm Thing from before. His focus was locked onto the Thing, which stared at him through squinted, young, sick-with-worry eyes, and from its back he felt warmth. Nearly overbearing warmth, like a cup of cocoa that was too hot, or a fireplace that wanted to help, if only you didn't sit too close.
He couldn't flinch. He was frozen in place. But the warmth was a welcome feeling, even if a bit hot to the touch. The tingling, the stickiness... It only now vaguely occurred to him that ah, he was wet.
Something was pressing down on his chest, then lifting, then pressing down again. In pattern, another Thing was jumping up and down. He heard the sound of someThing flying away. What was it? What were they? These Things? Somehow they felt important... Like...
Ah, like... it was his... mission? Yes, that's right. What was it, again? What was... his Mission?
More chest compressions. His body choked on something--saliva, water... something like that. His chest burned too much and his mind swam too much for him to really register much...
...what was it? "It is well that thou art here..."
"Seek out all Pokémon, and thou shalt find me once more..."
That's right... That was his Mission.
It was... to seek out all Pokémon...
#ficlet under keep reading tag#SOAP#Seek Out All Pokemon#my comic#my art#this is the first part so far#what do you guys think#also i gave up on inking after the first page lol#idk how to do comics very well and this is a learning process for me#so bear with me please#on the bright side i found the Comic Font#the one you see in superhero comics lmao#also also that first image was the first time i've ever drawn someone with wet clothing#i've never been good at coloring so i'm pretty proud of that#you can even see the grains of sand stuck to him EVERYWHERE#i don't think this story is gonna get too dark or anything but just in case#tw: drowning#tw: near death#tw: near drowning#i've also never been great at drawing water so#it looks a little blah but i tried lmao
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@amongthelotus sent a meme:
‘ i told you to stay in bed! ’
Huaisang is know for being dramatic, so no one can blame Jiang Wanyin for not reacting immediately when he fell into the water and sank like a rock in his heavy robes. It turned out he also wasn't aware that the Nie Sect Leader can't swim, which probably added to him believing this was just Huaisang being dramatic. Unfortunately. it wasn't. Thankfully, Wanyin did manage to save him. Huaisang doesn't remember much from the rescuing bit, once he gained consciousness (and had finished coughing and vomiting), he felt confused, aching and cold.
By the time he has been carried to his room, he's starting to feel a little less confused, even if he's now shivering and it feels like someone smashed his chest with a boulder. Somehow, clothes get ripped off and Huaisang is put into bed, the blanket pulled up to his chin. Wanyin says he will be back, telling him to stay in bed. Huaisang obeys... for a moment.
Soon enough, he gets up, legs wobbly, blanket wrapped around him as he shuffles towards the door. Huaisang has just left the room when Wanyin is right there again, yelling at him. He blinks, feeling real tears prickling in his eyes. "I-I..." I didn't want to be alone. "I'm okay, Wanyin," he says instead, voice low and hoarse.
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TW for drowning, implied PTSD and lots of thoughts about dying | 3k words | also on ao3
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
One of the very few facts Steve knew about Eddie was that he had never seen the ocean. It was one of the things Eddie had blabbered to him when he was bleeding out in his arms, the regret of a dying boy. Why had he never done it? He could've just driven down the highway, west or east, it didn't even matter, and seen the horizon. Sure, he had seen Lake Michigan a couple of times, where the shore on the other end was too far away to see, but it wasn't the same.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
It had become a symbol of survival for Eddie, at first. A reason to keep going, even when every single fiber of his body was telling him to let go.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
Part of Eddie had been infuriated by how sure of himself Steve had sounded when he said it again, after he survived but when horrors of a whole other kind came on his path; the horrors of being confined to the four walls of a prison cell. It made him all too aware of how different the two of them were: how much Eddie was not the golden boy, but the devil worshiper, the one who could easily be blamed for killing three of his classmates.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
Another part of Eddie had held on to those words like they were a lifeline. That one promise was enough to get him through the roughest days, a reminder of why it was still worth the fight to get out.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
It was the only thought on his mind, repeating again and again and again like a mantra long after he lost count of how many times the waves had closed above his head.
🌊
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
It is the first thought that comes to his mind when he wakes up in a hospital bed, until a familiar voice cuts through the silence.
'What the hell were you thinkin'?'
It doesn't even sound angry.
'Wayne? How'd you get here?'
His head feels all foggy; he doesn't know when he opened his eyes, but he quickly scans the room and concludes that Steve is nowhere to be seen.
'Steve called me. I came over as fast as I could.'
His uncle probably means that literally, judging from the way he looks: he has this drowsy look in his eyes that he always gets after working a double shift, an indication for Eddie that he has made the drive from Hawkins to Pennsylvania in one go without allowing himself any sleep.
'I was hopin' I would never have to see you in a hospital bed again, boy,' Wayne tells him in a soft voice.
The complete lack of anger or blame hurts Eddie worse than if Wayne had started shouting at him. He has to blink rapidly to force his tears away. He wants to say he's sorry, but the words get stuck in his throat. It doesn't feel like enough; those words are so inadequate that it's almost laughable.
'What happened?' Wayne asks him.
Usually, between the two of them, Wayne is the one who struggles with words. Eddie has learned to interpret his uncle's silences as if he were speaking, and he has never had a problem talking for the two of them. But right now, Eddie finds that he cannot explain, that it's impossible to translate his feelings into language. And even though Wayne can listen better than anyone, he has never been trained to listen to silences.
So Eddie merely closes his eyes. He doesn't want his uncle to see his tears. He doesn't know how to tell him about... Well, about everything. About what it's like to think you're going to die.
After everything Wayne has done for him, Eddie has only caused him pain, time and time again. And after they thought it was all over, after they thought it would finally get better, Eddie let him down yet again.
He's so tired that he barely registers the big, calloused hand landing on top of his own. He's already fading back into nothingness. He hears Wayne's voice say something to him, but he can't make out the words, almost like he's going underwater once more.
🌊
It had been good, celebrating his newfound freedom with Steve. Of course it had been good. It wasn't Steve's fault, and it definitely wasn't the fault of the ocean. It was something inside of Eddie, something still so wrong and broken because of all that had happened to him. Something that had started suffocating him from inside ever since he woke up weakened and broken with needles in his arm in a fucking prison cell. As it turned out, a trip to the ocean couldn't magically cure the all-encompassing fear of a death sentence that had nestled itself in Eddie's chest ever since that day. The fear that got months of time to grow and spread like a poison injected into his veins, taking over his whole body and deforming his mind.
It's not like he had a death wish. He was happy to be alive, to be out in the world again, to make something of the life he still had ahead of him. But he needed to actually feel like he was alive again.
After a sleepless night, he wandered outside while Steve was still fast asleep in their hotel room. The beach was still quiet and the early morning sky gray, the sun barely having risen yet.
He found himself at the shoreline before he knew it. The water felt even colder against his skin than the day before, when he had stood in the ocean for the very first time in his life. And it woke him up like nothing else had in months.
The waves were wild, wilder than before. But Eddie could swim, he wasn't afraid. The icy water stung against his skin and he finally felt truly alive again. It was hypnotizing, to see the tall waves coming, to dive into them when they reached him right at their highest point, tasting salt and foam and letting his feet float away from the sand underneath them. There was a sense of liberation in surrendering his body to the powers of nature and let it get pulled in various directions like he was a puppet attached with invisible strings to Neptune or Poseidon or whatever god was ruling these waters.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
He had never experienced before how easy it was to underestimate the force of the waves.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
It was already too late as soon as he realized he lost control.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
He had once heard that drowning was one of the most peaceful deaths out there. He even wrote a song about it, one time. Your lungs fill with water, and then your brain shuts off like you're falling asleep. You drift away, not one concern on your mind. But what he didn't know, was that it took some time for your lungs and your brain to stop fighting that exact process. And what he didn't know, was that the process that came before was not peaceful at all.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
He found himself desperately kicking, wordless screams getting lost in the waves, panic taking over when he could no longer distinguish what was above and what was below and when all he could breathe in was water while all he needed was air.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
He was here, for fuck's sake. He was in the goddamned ocean because he survived and now that very same ocean would be the one to kill him anyway. Maybe he truly wasn't meant to be alive. Maybe fate did exist – or maybe he was just fucking stupid.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
His legs were tired. His arms too. He was freezing cold. His lungs wanted to stop fighting.
When you get out of here, I'll take you to the ocean.
🌊
When he wakes up again, Wayne is still sitting at his bedside. He looks like he hasn't moved at all. Another quick glance around the room tells Eddie that Steve still isn't anywhere, though.
'I didn't mean for this to happen,' he manages to say this time. His voice sounds raspy and weak, not at all like his own.
Wayne looks at him for a long couple of seconds.
'You didn't mean to drown, or you didn't mean to wake up again?'
His words make Eddie flinch. He should've known that Wayne wouldn't beat around the bush.
'I didn't want to die, Wayne, I swear,' he rushes to say. 'Saying I'm sorry does not even begin to cover it. I was – I don't know how to explain it. I wanted to feel free. It was goddamn stupid.' Those fucking tears already start filling up his eyes again.
Wayne sighs. He has this faraway look on his face that already gives Eddie an idea of what he's about to talk about.
'After Nam,' he starts, 'I'd do all kinds of reckless shit. I was causin' just as much trouble as your dad, stealin' cars, drinkin' myself near death every other night, gettin' into fights in the wrong parts of town... I just needed to feel somethin' again. It was like... Like everything was numb. Like the most important part of me had died with my buddies in the jungle.' He sighs. 'But that's no way to live; I found out about that the day you was born. As soon as I held you in my arms, I understood what life was about again.'
A long silence stretches out between the two of them.
'Are you telling me to get someone pregnant, Uncle Wayne? Cause you know that that's never gonna happen, right?'
Wayne's laughter finally drives some of the heaviness out of Eddie's chest – and promptly, Eddie understands exactly what his uncle meant to tell him.
'I'm just glad you're still here, Ed,' Wayne says. 'Just... Make sure to stay here, alright?'
Eddie nods.
'I love you, Uncle Wayne,' he says. Contrary to many other men, that's never been something he's had difficulty saying. But ever since prison he has started to do it more consciously.
Wayne, on the other hand, doesn't say those words often. He saves them for big moments, like when Eddie came out to him, or the first time they saw each other after Eddie woke up in that prison cell with stitches keeping his organs inside his body. But over the years, Eddie has learned to listen to his uncle's nonverbal I love you's as well, so he hears him loud and clear when Wayne stretches out his arm to squeeze Eddie's shoulder lightly.
A doctor comes in to give him a final check-up. She seems happy with Eddie's progress, emphasizes how lucky he is to be here and answers the big question that he hasn't gotten to ask yet.
'Someone saw you from the beach and dove after you right away. You're lucky they knew how to handle a situation like that. It seems like your vital organs are working properly again, so I want to give you a final lung scan in a few hours to make sure that there aren't any lasting injuries, and then you'll be free to go.'
'Where's Steve?'
It's the question Eddie has been waiting to ask ever since he woke up. He finally asks it the moment the doctor closes the door behind her.
Wayne sighs a heavy sigh; it's enough to tell Eddie something isn't right.
'He got real spooked by your stunt, Ed,' he says.
'Did he leave?!' It sounds way more panicked than Eddie would want it to; but the idea of Steve just leaving him alone in the hospital makes him nauseous. He thought... Well, it doesn't matter what he thought. He must've been wrong about it.
'He didn't go back to Hawkins,' Wayne tells him in a reassuring voice. 'But he needed to get away from here – and I don't really blame him for that. He's the one who found you.'
Eddie feels his mouth fall open.
'You gave him a real big scare, boy. Give him some time, alright?'
He lets his head fall back onto the pillow and closes his eyes; not because he's tired, but because he doesn't want Wayne to witness any more of his tears.
🌊
After some more rest and a positive outcome on his lung scan, Uncle Wayne drives Eddie back to the hotel. Despite Wayne's objections ('I can sleep in my car just fine, boy') Eddie books him a night in one of the nicest available rooms.
'Look, man, they gave me this money to say “sorry we took four months of your life and wanted to take another fifty years and kill you” so I might as well spend it on some nice shit,' he tells Wayne. 'You can either complain about it or enjoy it, 'cause no way I'm letting you sleep in your car after you drove all the way out here only because I made a total fucking mess of things once again.'
Wayne sighs. 'Alright, message received,' he says. 'But just so ya know: I'm always gonna drive anywhere for you, no matter how often you make a mess of things.'
Eddie wants to answer with something silly and self-deprecating, but when he sees the earnest look in Wayne's eyes, he swallows his words and instead gives him a hug.
🌊
He opens the door to the hotel room he had been sharing with Steve, already mentally preparing himself for waiting God knows how many hours until his roommate will come back – but he freezes in the doorway when he finds Steve already there, sitting on the bed with a pillow against his back and a magazine in his hands.
He looks up and closes his magazine, his eyes wandering over Eddie's face with an almost investigative gaze.
'You're back,' he flatly establishes.
Eddie lets the door fall closed behind him and nods.
'I'm sorry,' he blurts out.
Seconds tick by, but Steve doesn't say anything; he only keeps looking at Eddie, his face unreadable.
'Thank you,' Eddie finally says. 'For getting Wayne here, and for – well, for saving my ass. Again.'
Steve lets the magazine fall on the nightstand next to him, freeing his hands to wipe them over his face and through his hair.
'Well, um... I didn't know if you even wanted me to save your ass in the first place.'
Eddie nods, not really knowing what to say.
'Steve –'
'Do you want to die?' It sounds more scared than accusatory.
'No!' Eddie immediately says.
'Then why did you –'
Eddie waits for him to finish his question, but he doesn't; he only averts his gaze and pinches the bridge of his nose.
'I wasn't thinking. It was an accident, Steve. I swear. A dumb, stupid fucking accident.'
'Do you have any idea what it was like?' Steve says when he looks up again, with a tremble in his voice. 'To wake up to an empty bed, no note, nothing. I just – I just randomly walked to the beach, man, and I saw –' He abruptly cuts himself off again, overcome by emotion.
Eddie takes a hesitating step towards him.
'I really am sorry, Steve,' he says, but all possible words feel utterly lacking. 'I never meant for any of this to happen. I just felt... I felt so suffocated. I already felt like I was drowning, every goddamn day since I woke up in jail. It didn't change when I got out, and it didn't change when we got here, and I just needed to feel free, for once. I'm grateful that you took me here, but...' He sighs. 'I still was taken somewhere, you know? I still didn't feel truly free. I can't really explain it, I know it's fucked... But my whole mind is kinda fucked, y'know?'
Steve nods. When Eddie takes another step towards him, he notices the way his lip is trembling and the tears in his eyes.
'I couldn't bear the thought of living without you,' Steve says in a choked voice.
Eddie sits down on the mattress, right next to Steve, grabbing both his hands without even really thinking about it.
'You won't have to,' he tells him. 'I'm here.'
Steve shuffles on the bed, wraps his arms tightly around Eddie, and pulls him into a warm but bone-crushing embrace. His whole body is shaking and Eddie can hear the quiet sounds of suppressed sobs right next to his ear, where Steve's head is buried in the crook of his neck.
'Oh, Steve,' he whispers. 'I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm here.' He keeps repeating apologies and reassurances while combing his fingers through Steve's hair until Steve finally calms down and manages to take a deep, shuddering breath.
'I can't lose you,' he says, in a soft, hoarse voice that sounds so broken that it pains Eddie to hear it.
'You won't,' Eddie whispers back at him.
Steve lifts his head, but keeps his arms tightly wrapped around Eddie.
'When you were in jail,' he says, 'I was so scared I was gonna lose you. It didn't make sense, because we barely even knew each other at the time... But I had already almost seen you die and I – I knew I couldn't go through that again.'
They've never really talked about all the support Steve had given Eddie while he was on trial: about how he kept showing up at the prison any time he could, how he called Eddie as much as possible, how he made his parents hire some fancy lawyer for him... Nor have they ever talked about how much Steve kept showing up for him after he got out, always worrying, always checking in on how he was doing. They never addressed their sudden closeness, not even when they went on this trip to the ocean together, spending every minute of every day in each other's presence, even sharing the same bed every night.
Eddie realizes how much is still unsaid between them. But Steve has seen Eddie at his lowest, and Eddie supposes that right now, he can say the same thing about Steve. So he merely squeezes him back and presses a kiss against his temple.
He knows they'll have to talk about a lot of things. But for now, the look in Steve's eyes when he finds Eddie's gaze, is telling him everything he needs to know.
#oops this is way heavier than what i usually post#tw drowning#tw near death#idk if i'm missing any tw's so please tell me if i should add any#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#eddie munson#wayne munson#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things#fruity ficlet
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Whumptober Day 11: "All the light's going dark and my hope's destroyed" + Animal Trap
Read on Ao3
- Legend & Hyrule
- Summary: When the sudden appearance of a portal sends Legend and Hyrule hurtling to an unknown destination, Legend attempts to save them both. But it all goes terribly wrong
CW for a character nearly drowning (it's not too descriptive, but just be careful), dehumanization, and drugging
---------------------------------------------------
He’s falling.
Legend only half-registers it. His stomach is in a knot, his body weightless, yet strangely heavy. His heart is in his throat. Wind rushes past his ears. But it’s not the plummet he fears. It’s the darkness he is headed towards.
He’s falling, Rulie is falling, and he hasn’t a clue where they'll land.
Dark magic warps around him, funneling him down, down, down. He reaches toward it with his own magic, trying to guide it, to nudge it in a safe direction.
Water. They need to land in water. Otherwise this will end very badly.
He solidifies an image in his head. A lake — big and beautiful and clear, waterfalls rushing down into it. There. That’s where he wants them to land.
A hand grapples in the darkness. Fingers wrap around his own, familiar magic pouring through them to enhance his own. A slight smile lifts Legend’s lips.
Hyrule.
The image grows more clear and distinct. The smell of fresh water and dewy grass fills his nostrils. Legend steels himself and takes a deep breath. Any moment now…
Heart pounding in his throat, he tightens his hold on Hyrule’s hand.
“Don’t let go,” he orders through the waves of their entwined magic. And Hyrule’s grip strengthens in reply.
Another moment slides by, a moment filled with utter darkness and the nauseating push and pull of gravity. Legend holds his breath, awaiting impact.
It comes in a rush of magic and liquid, cold and heat, light and darkness. Legend catches a glimpse of blue sky and white clouds. Then his body breaks the surface with such force it knocks the air from his lungs.
Water floods the space it leaves and he chokes on it. Black dots dance before his eyes. Desperately, he fights to hang on — to consciousness, to the hand that now lies limp in his.
Come on. He grits his teeth, kicking his feet to try and surface. Change already!
As if in response, a sharp pain streaks through him. His two legs become a single, powerful tail; his fingernails grow into talons; iridescent scales climb up and down his body. And in the next moment he can breathe.
Legend wastes no time. Ensuring Hyrule’s hand is firmly in his own, he begins to climb toward the surface. The sun shines through it, beckoning him forth.
Hope blossoms within him as he grows closer. He’s almost there.
The net comes out of nowhere. He sees it briefly out of the corner of his eye – a dark, looming thing. But his mind doesn’t have time to process, nor his body to evade. And in the next moment, it surrounds him.
Coarse ropes tangle in his fins, wrap around his tail. Panic coursing through him, Legend thrashes. With his free hand he claws at the net, attempting to shred it. He has to break free, he has to get Hyrule to the surface.
But his efforts are fruitless. The ropes are too strong, too thick.
“I caught something!” A voice comes from up above. Any other time it would be muffled by the water that surrounds him. But now, in this form, Legend can hear it clearly, as if the man is standing right beside him. “It’s big! And it’s a fighter.”
“Hurry! It could be what we have been looking for!”
The net begins to move, dragging the heroes upward. And after a moment more of struggling, Legend lets it. It goes against every instinct he has, to allow their captors to haul them up onto the boat. But fighting back takes time, time Hyrule doesn’t have.
He pulls the traveler to his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around him. And in the next seconds they break through the surface and are pulled onto the floor of a small boat.
Legend can make out blurred faces, leering and unfamiliar; a blue sky painted behind a layer of trees; water drifting as far as he can see. But he doesn’t allow himself to survey his surroundings beyond that. Almost immediately, his attention is back on the hero who lies limp in his arms.
“Rulie,” he gasps, through burning lungs. This form never fares well on the surface. But it will only be a short while before he reverts to his Hylian body. He can hold on until then.
Dragging in another wheezing attempt at a breath, he presses a hand to the traveler’s face. His skin is cool and pale, eyes still closed, chest still. Dread settles unpleasantly in Legend’s gut.
Maybe landing them in the water was not such a wonderful idea, after all. Maybe he should have let whatever was going to happen, happen. Maybe he should have focused his attention on crafting a shield around them instead.
He shakes his head, shoving the thoughts away. Gritting his teeth, he closes his eyes.
He doesn’t know how to weave the powerful healing spells that Hyrule does, but he is familiar with a few simpler ones. Spells that can take care of cuts and bruises, gashes that don’t travel too deep, even wounds that render you unconscious. And perhaps, they will be enough to drag the water from Hyrule’s lungs.
“Well, well, what have we here?” A voice croons from above him.
Distantly, he registers the net lifting off and away, dragging at his tail as it does so. He does his best to ignore it.
“A sea creature?”
“It’s called a mermaid.”
“Well, I’ve seen one of those before.”
“Isn’t this what you were looking for?”
“Indeed.”
Someone is leaning over him now. Legend can feel their hot breaths on his neck.
“Look at him. What a magical being.”
A hand brushes over the length of his tail and Legend inhales sharply. The breath soon turns into a hacking cough as his body reminds him how little air he is gaining at the moment.
Ignore it, he tells himself, even as every part of him screams to leap back into the water, where he can breathe, where the clammy hands of strangers won’t touch him. Focus on Rulie.
“I wish to study him. Take him…and throw his friend back into the water.”
The words have barely registered in Legend’s mind before rough hands wrap around his waist and pull. His fingers slip from Hyrule and the spell dies upon them.
“No!”
He thrashes, striking out with his claws, kicking as his tail splits and becomes legs. Someone cries out and another voice joins them. But they are a mere cacophony of unintelligible noise to Legend’s ears. All he can see is Hyrule being dragged toward the edge, all he can hear is the deafening silence left by the absence of his brother’s breaths.
This is all your fault.
A fist connects with his jaw and he reels back, tasting the sharpness of iron. But seconds later he is struggling again, desperation allowing him to push through the pain, the fear, the way the world feels like it's closing in on him all over again, like the day his uncle died, the day the entire kingdom had turned its back on him without reason…
An arm comes into reach and he bites down, hard. That earns him a slap across the face.
“Stop fighting, damn it!”
He kicks outward, feet connecting with someone’s body. They hurl him down onto the unforgiving wood of the boat, so hard that he sees stars. For a moment it is all he can do to breathe.
“Little brat!”
“Is he even worth the trouble? Look at him! He changed back!”
“Calm yourselves. You are damaging the specimen.”
Legend drags his head upward just as a man squats down in front of him. With his graying hair and wizened face carved with smile lines, one could think him kind, even grandfatherly. But when he grips Legend’s chin and holds his gaze, there is no sympathy in those eyes. There is only cold, terrible, hunger.
Legend shoves himself up on his hands and knees, wrenching himself out of the man’s grip. He steels himself, hand already going toward the hilt of his sword. He will fight to the death if need be. They will not touch Hyrule.
But the man’s voice halts his movements.
“Remain still or your friend will go over the side.”
Legend glares at him. He can see no lie in that face. His hand falls back down to lie limply at his side.
“What do you want?” he grits out.
The man regards him calmly. “I have been interested in strange creatures for many years now. I have studied them quite extensively. One might even call me an expert. However, I have yet to examine a mer. So, you, my boy, are quite a fortunate find.”
He rises, still looking at Legend as though he wants to pin him to a board and stare at him for a while. Legend fights not to squirm beneath his gaze.
“You are fascinating. Not quite a mer and yet…not quite Hylian either. Oh, the discoveries that could be made from you.”
The man moves closer. Before he can stop himself, Legend backs up a step, bumping against the two men he hadn’t realized were standing behind him. He can’t breathe now. It’s as though he is dragging in surface air through his gills again, fighting to remain conscious.
Focus. You don’t have time to panic.
“I would take you by force,” the man continues, calmly, as though carrying a conversation with a neighbor, “as my men have so clumsily attempted to do. But that would damage you beyond repair. And in order for my experiments to work, you must be in optimal condition. I must control for most variables. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yeah, I understand alright. You creep.”
Legend’s eyes flit around, taking in his surroundings, looking for a viable way out. His fingers flex and clench, itching for a weapon. But Hyrule is so close to the edge now. Too close. One wrong move and he will fall back into a watery grave.
And the water…the water is the only chance of escape he has. But the cost would be great, too great for him to entertain.
He inhales a trembling breath and makes his decision.
“If you want me so badly, I’ll come with you. On one condition.” He looks back at Hyrule, ignoring the way his heart clenches at the sight of him.
You idiot. Letting yourself become attached again. Don’t you ever learn?
“Let me save him. Then, take him back to shore and leave him there.”
The man doesn’t answer at first. He looks between the two heroes, fist at his chin. Then, he nods.
“Very well.” He turns to his men. “Take us back to shore as quickly as possible. And bind and blindfold the boy.”
Legend watches, anger boiling within him, as they tie thick ropes around Hyrule’s wrists and a cloth around his head. No sooner have they stepped back than he rushes forward, skidding on his knees before him. The spell is already at his fingertips and in his mind, woven threads of his magic. And he reaches out, pressing a hand to Rulie’s arm as it pours forth.
“Watch him,” he hears someone say from far away. “He might try to pull something.”
“He won’t,” the man with hungry eyes answers. “He cares too much for his friend.”
Legend shakes his head, brushing off the oppressive truth of the statement.
“Come on, Rule,” he murmurs, “come on. Wake up.”
A moment passes and another and another, slipping by in slow succession. All the while the boat speeds toward the shore. If he looked up, Legend doesn’t doubt that he would see the bank fast approaching. But he doesn’t dare. He hardly allows himself to breathe.
Tears stream down his face and blur his vision. He doesn’t brush them away.
“Come on, traveler. You’re tougher than this. Don’t you dare die on me!”
Another series of seconds pass in which Hyrule doesn’t move. And then, abruptly, he draws in a gasping breath. He pitches sideways coughing up mouthfuls of water. Relief streaks dizzyingly through Legend as he reaches out, gripping his shoulder to support him.
“You’re okay, Rulie,” he says, both to himself and the hero trembling in his grasp. “You’re okay.”
Thank the goddesses.
The coughs subside and turn to haggard breaths. Hyrule raises his head, dazedly attempting to look around.
“Ledge?” He croaks. He tries to move his hands up to his face, but the ropes prevent the motion. “Legend…what happened? Why can’t I…where are we?”
Legend is about to answer when the boat comes to a stop, bumping against a grassy shoreline. His heart climbs into his throat.
“It’s okay,” he manages. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Hyrule turns toward the sound of his voice and Legend is glad that he cannot see the look in his eyes.
“But what about you?”
Strong hands grasp his arms and wrench him away from the traveler. He stumbles to his feet.
Men close in around Hyrule too, hauling him up and starting toward the shore. He struggles, though weakly, face still much too pale.
“Legend!”
Legend manages a shaky smile, more for his own sake than his brother’s.
“I’ll be fine too. Don’t waste your time worrying about me. Get free and get out of here, you hear! Don’t you dare try and come back for me!”
Hyrule gives another shout as he hits the damp ground, immediately trying to stumble up on bound feet. But Legend can hardly hear him now past the thundering of his heart and the distant sounds of water lapping at the boat as it drifts back into the depths.
Then, something cool and metallic pierces his neck and he knows no more.
#whumptober 2023#no.11#“all the light's going dark and my hope's destroyed”#animal trap#near drowning#dehumanization tw#drugging tw#trin writes#lu legend#lu hyrule#angst#whump#first time writing mer-legend!#it was fun#despite the less-than-fun circumstances lol#not to worry#this will be continued#there are plenty more horrors for legend to face XD#sorry ledge
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Whump Prompt #1183
@cyborg0109 asked:
Do you have any prompts for a mermaids tail being amputated?
Sure:
Maybe they’re tossed back into the ocean, unable to swim and doomed to drown.
I'm sort of obsessed with the idea of a human doctor creating some kind of prosthetic. Its heavy and clunky and takes a long time to get used to. Maybe it hurts to use for extended periods. Maybe in the future, when the mermaid is ‘let go’, they come across their saviour again, though this time, they’ve fallen overboard/drowning. Maybe they’re adrift on a boat and need direction.
^ Maybe during their time with the caretaker, they have to keep being sponged down with water - or they’re set up in a ‘hospital tank’ or sorts. (A kiddy pool/the backyard pond)
What is the nature of the amputation? Was it necessary after an infected injury? Were they trapped under/in something and it was the only way for them to survive? Was this done by a fisherman hunting for mermaid meat?
Do their society recognise them? Are they cast out because of their amputation?
Do they keep a scale/part of their fin as a reminder of what they used to have?
After the event, do they wash up on the shore, near death?
#whump#writing#prompts#ideas#angst#amputation#noncon body modification#mermaid whump#supernatural whump#cast out#left for dead#drowning#near death experiences#tw: body horror
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Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 26 - Reverser and the Return of Evillustrator
Beginning || Previous || Next
Alix stared up at a blank wall. She tossed a spray paint can in her hand as she raked her brain with ideas. She felt eyes burn into her that flared her annoyance. She sneered under her mask and latched onto it. She put the can down and reached for the red. She covered the blank canvas in it before she went for the black and tagged the red canvas.
“Well, this is… something, Miss Kubdel,” Mr. Monlataing said.
“Is there a problem with it? I thought art was supposed to be an expression of the soul,” Alix countered.
“It is, but why is your soul so angry? Violent even.”
“A long list that I don’t have the patience, energy, or fucks to give to go through it.”
“I see. And just how long have you been penting up all this rage?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because it’s hurting you, isn’t it?”
Alix tsked. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Alix-,” Mr. Monlataing started.
“Excuse me. Mr. Monlataing? Can I get your input on this?” Nathaniel asked.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. What do you have here, Nathaniel?”
Alix glanced over at the recent page of Nathaniel’s Bloody Bug and Chat Noir comic. She noticed a new character that looked exactly like when Nathaniel was Evillustrator.
“It’s Bloody Bug and Chat Noir teaming up with their latest companion, MightyIllustrator,” Nathaniel said.
“You mean Evillustrator?” Alix asked.
“He changed his name after Bloody Bug saved him. Now he fights for justice.”
“A bad guy that becomes a good guy. I like it. You’re getting better at your storytelling.”
“Too bad the rest of his writing sucks,” Alix remarked.
“Miss Kubdel, I’ll allow a lot of things in my class, but we don’t bring down other artists. We must give them the confidence to continue their craft,” Mr. Monlataing scolded.
“And when does that encouragement feed into arrogance? Do we stop then, or do we keep going until we have an insufferable monster?”
“Sounds like someone is projecting,” Nathaniel retorted.
Alix snarled. She reared back her arm and threw the spray paint can she had, but Mr. Monlataing caught it.
“Alix, I think you should head to the counselor. Whatever is going on is clearly eating away at you. I think you should talk to someone who will listen.”
Alix opened her mouth when Rose ran over.
“Mr. Monlataing, I have a better idea to help calm Alix,” Rose said.
“Oh, this gonna be good. What do you have that could help me?” Alix mocked.
Rose smiled, took her headphones off, and put them on Alix. Alix opened her mouth to complain until she heard the rock music playing. Alix snorted, rolled her shoulders, and took a seat on the floor. Rose took a seat next to Alix and scribbled on the notepad, then showed it to Alix. Alix tilted her head as she read it.
I’m sorry, but I had asked Adrien if you were ok. You have been angrier these past few weeks. He didn’t say much, just that you needed time to dwell and not talk about it. I don’t understand what is going on, but I’m here to help in any way I can.
Alix’s face softened as she smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed.
Alix leaned against Rose and Rose leaned against Alix. Rose wrote down song lyrics while Alix watched the room. Mr. Monlataing went around the room, checking on everyone and their projects when a new kid peeked in through the door. Marinette ran up and dragged the guy in and introduced him to Mr. Monlataing, then Nathaniel. Alix watched them until the guy ran out.
Alix hummed, curious of what that was about, but ignored it. She jammed out to the music until she saw Marinette return with a black journal. She raised a brow when Marinette erased something in it, then gave it to Nathaniel. She furrowed her brows as Nathaniel lost himself to the book. She took off the headphones to confront him when the bell rang. She growled and handed the headphones back to Rose.
“Thanks again.”
“Alix, would you like to join Mylene and me on a walk after school? It’s been a while since we’ve talked. But only if you want to.”
Alix considered then nodded. “Ok. I’ll see you after school.”
Alix headed out to her next class. She moved through the rest of the day on autopilot as has been her norm for the past few weeks. It worked well enough until someone annoyed her, which wasn’t hard to do. She didn’t like how easily agitated she could be, but it was the price of all this. If she was to get to the root of her problems, she needed to face it alone. No amount of talking was going to help her.
The final bell rang, and Alix made her way outside. She waited until Mylene, Rose, and Ivan joined her. She was hugged by Mylene and Rose while she fist bumped Ivan. Mylene and Rose each grabbed one of her arms and dragged her along as Ivan followed.
“I hope we weren’t going for a long walk. It’s really cold now,” Alix remarked.
“Oh, not at all. Just a short one. We wanted to hang out with you and, well, make sure you’re alright,” Mylene said.
“I’m not, but I appreciate it.”
“Adrien said you didn’t want to talk about it. Why is that?” Rose asked.
“I… it’s stupid.”
“C’mon, Alix, nothing is stupid,” Ivan encouraged.
“Fine. Look, I… I want to get better, but I can’t. There’s this… issue at my core that has a death hold on me. I’m trying to get to the root of it, to confront it, but whenever I talk, I feel like I’m running away from it. I can’t let that happen anymore. So, I’m not going to talk as it festers so I can reach it.”
“But look at what you’re doing to yourself, Alix,” Rose chided.
“Something needs to be done, Rose. I need to get to the root of all this. My anger, my trauma, everything. Talking hasn’t helped, so I’m not talking anymore until I figure it out.”
“Alix, you’re going to self-destruct if you do that. And when that happens, Hawkmoth will make you his pawn like he did with all of us,” Ivan warned.
Rose and Mylene nodded.
Alix stopped and turned on her heel to face Ivan, Rose, and Mylene. “Do not put me in the same group as you lot. There is nothing Hawkmoth could offer me that would convince me to become a villain. At least, no more than I already am.”
“Alix, you’re not-!” Rose started.
“Don’t lie, Rose. I know better. I’m a little monster. I don’t need an Akuma to make me one. I’ve done nothing but hurt and turn on the people that try to get close to me. And when I think I’ve let someone in, they turn around and betray me. I just… there’s just no point. I’m a monster and that’s that. Nothing will change that.”
Rose, Mylene, and Ivan all exchanged glances while Alix trudged on ahead. They followed behind her as they arrived at Places des Vosages. Alix glanced over to see Nathaniel and the new guy from earlier. She looked away, then back at them as Nathaniel held up the black book and tore apart the pages, devastating the other guy.
Alix’s eyes widened as red threatened her vision. Her attempts to fight it were in vain as she caved to the rage. She turned into the park and up to Nathaniel. She pushed him down as he tried to leave.
“Hey! What’s the big-!” Nathaniel yelled.
Alix grabbed Nathaniel’s coat and pulled him up to her face. “You fucking bastard! What did you do?”
“I don’t see why you’re yelling at me. That fraud toyed with my feelings with his stupid scribbles. Then has the gall to want to work on my comic with me.”
“That’s not true. Marinette said she’d help me, but I didn’t want to do this because of this exact reason. Everything is ruined now,” the guy said.
Alix’s temper wavered seeing the guy’s distress before it ignited again as she glared down at Nathaniel. “You are nothing more than an arrogant little fucking bitch. You are the fraud here, not that poor boy. I think you need to cool the fuck down, bitch!”
Ivan, Mylene, and Rose yelled out for Alix to stop, but she ignored them. She grabbed Nathaniel’s arm and threw him over her into the fountain, soaking him to the bone in the freezing air. Mylene and Rose stepped between Alix and Nathaniel while Ivan helped him out. Marinette came running to help Nathaniel.
Alix took several deep breaths as she glared at Nathaniel. Memories resurfaced and mingled with the present as she saw Nathaniel as she once saw Chloe, beaten, bloody, and battered. Her rage shifted to terror as tears fell from her eyes, her heartbeat quickened, and her breathing came in short, rapid gasps. She turned and ran away. She heard them call her, but she ignored them. It happened again. She told herself she wouldn’t let it happen again, and she did. She had to get away to keep the others safe from the monster that refused to be caught.
~~
Adrien arrived home and headed up to his room as he got a call from Rose. He raised a brow and answered it.
“Hey, Rose, what’s up?”
“Oh, Adrien! Thank goodness. Alix is missing! Something happened, she got mad, and then she ran off and we don’t know where she is!”
Adrien’s eyes widened as he heard yelling in the background between multiple parties. He opened his mouth when he heard screams tearing through the air.
“Rose? What’s going on?” Adrien demanded.
“There’s a pair of-!”
The line cut off.
“That’s no good. Plagg, Stompp, we have to go. Plagg, claws out!”
Plagg disappeared into the ring and transformed Adrien. Chat Noir jumped out the window and searched the city for the villains when he came across a guy in a black and white outfit riding a personal paper airplane.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Reverser. You’re a strong, fearless hero, but not for long.”
Chat Noir’s eyes widened as Reverser summoned a small, black paper airplane. He readied to attack it when a green shield came in and destroyed it.
“What the-?” Reverser yelled.
The green shield rebounded and knocked Reverser off his ride. Chat Noir beamed when he saw Carapace.
“Perfect timing, dude!” Chat Noir yelled.
“Always, my dude. Where’s his Akuma?”
Chat Noir looked down at Reverser’s ride. He grabbed and broke it, releasing the Akuma. He activated Cataclysm and destroyed the Akuma.
“Carapace, can you bring the boy that Reverser was. I believe him to be one of a set of Akumas.”
“Uh, I can, but I need to help some dudettes out first. One of their friends ran away and they can’t find her.”
“Is it Alix?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Because that’s part of why I’m out here. It was also in response to the Akumas.”
“Heard. Well, let’s look together.”
“I actually know where she’d be.”
“What? Then lead the way. Let’s go.”
“Give me a minute. I need to recharge.”
“Oh. Right. Go on, dude. I got the Reverser boy. Just don’t take too long.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t plan on it.”
~~
Alix lay curled up on the freezing ground of her mother’s grave. Tears froze to her face and sealed her eyes closed. Tikki and Ziggy tried to get rid of the ice, but she swiped them away.
“Alix, please, you need to get home, or transform. You’ll die in the cold,” Tikki squeaked.
“I don’t care,” Alix muttered.
“What? What did you say?” Tikki gasped.
“I. Don’t. Care. I lost it again. I hurt someone again. The monster came back out and retreated before I could stop it. All because I am that monster.”
“That’s not true. You were caught in a moment of passion. You defended that poor writer from that awful red-haired boy. You weren’t a monster. You were a hero.”
“But a hero doesn’t hurt people. A monster hurts people. And you can’t say if it’s for a good cause, then it doesn’t matter. The means never justify the ends. And in the end, I was a monster.”
“I stand by what I said, that’s not true. You are a passionate person, and passion burns bright. Sometimes too bright, yeah, but bright nonetheless. You did the right thing.”
“No, I didn’t, and nothing will change that.”
“But-!” Tikki started.
“Just go. Leave me alone.”
Tikki and Ziggy exchanged glances before they crawled into Alix’s hood.
“We’re not going anywhere,” Ziggy stated.
“That’s right. We’re here and you can’t get rid of us,” Tikki said.
Alix opened her mouth, but let out a choked gasp when Evillustrator grabbed her and thrust her up.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you, Alix,” Evillustrator hissed.
“Nathaniel?”
“Not anymore. Evillustrator is back, and I’m here to make you pay for your insults.”
Alix’s breath caught. Evillustrator’s threat struck her but filled her with sickening hope. Bile rose to her throat as the promise of seeing her mother crossed her mind. She tried to fight it off, to live, but the desire consumed her. She let her body go limp as she stopped fighting him.
“Make me pay,” Alix begged.
“Oh, I will, but only in a way fitting a monster like you.”
Evillustrator threw Alix over his shoulder and headed back to Place des Vosages. He scared off the people in the park as he erased it and replaced it with a giant fountain.
“Let’s see how much you like being plunged into ice cold water in the middle of winter.”
Evillustrator threw Alix into the bone-chilling waters. Alix’s body seized up as the cold shocked her entire system. She stared blankly up at the dim winter sun as she lost the feeling in her entire body. Darkness closed in around as the water vanished and she felt herself on solid ground. She saw the figures of Chat Noir, Gallic Chick, Porcelet, and Carapace. They yelled at each other until an Akuma slipped by them and into Alix’s wristwatch. Their yells were drowned up and replaced with the voice of Hawkmoth.
“Timebreaker, I am Hawkmoth. You face death, but it need not be like this. You can reset everything back to the moment with your mother. You can save her and see her once again. All I ask in return is Bloody Bug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.”
Alix spurted and coughed. “I don’t… need you. I’ll see my mom soon… in death.”
“What? You can’t-!”
“I’ll see… I’ll see her soon. Good-bye, little butterfly.”
Alix let out a gasp and her body went still.
Alix opened her eyes to a dark road with little light. She roamed around it until a blinding light shone brightly. She shielded her eyes and blinked against it. It faded as her mother’s spirit stood across from her.
“Mom!” Alix called.
Alix ran down the road to her mother, but slowed when she neared her. A lump caught up in her seeing the disappointment and sorrow in her mother’s face.
“I’m here. We’re together. Everything is as it should be.”
Alix’s mother shed an ethereal tear as she looked away.
“Wait, please! I miss you. I need you. Please, don’t leave me!”
Alix’s mother ignored Alix’s pleas, walked into the darkness, and vanished.
Alix cried out and reached for where her mother’s spirit once stood. She was stopped as she heard the crow of a rooster. She turned as a majestic, fiery rooster wrapped its wings around her and pulled her back to the world of the living.
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#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#miraculous au#alternate universe#au#bloody bug au#alix kubdel#nathaniel kurtzberg#marc anciel#chat noir#rose lavillant#mylene haprele#ivan bruel#tikki#ziggy#tw trauma#tw death#tw near death#tw sui mention#tw sui implied#tw giving up#cw death#cw near death#cw sui implied#cw sui thoughts#cw sui mention#cw sui#tw sui#tw drowning
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Whumptober Prompt Fills Part 12: Storm
~Also on AO3~
No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.” | Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”
No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.” | Matches | Scars | “Let me see”
Warnings: Explosion, forced to hurt a friend, injury, near-drowning, vomiting
Central character(s): Hyrule, Wild, Wind
The third battle in as many days was going badly. Normally Wild would avoid so many large-scale fights in such a short period of time, but there hadn't been that option this time; Hyrule's era was always a nightmare. The first time they'd been ambushed. The second they'd got wind of an attack on a small settlement and of course they had to intervene. That had pointed them towards this group of monsters blocking a major road.
It was all unavoidable for a group of heroes, but what was also unavoidable was that they were exhausted and short of resources. Wild was down to his last few weapons and his last decent shield as he held the end of a bridge against a moblin. He'd not seen Sky for a worrying length of time. He'd heard a cry of alarm and pain from somewhere nearby he thought might be Legend. But he had to focus on his own fight and continue to keep as much danger as possible away from Wind and Hyrule behind him.
Then he heard a crash of thunder from overhead and swore. The storm had been rumbling around for ages but now it had finally broken at the worst possible moment.
Many of the monsters were wearing metal armor. Most of his friends exclusively used metal weapons.
He had to do what he could.
He backflipped out of the way of a strike from the moblin and swapped his metal sword and shield for a heavy dragonbone club.
"Wind! 'Rule!" he yelled. "Get off the bridge! Now!"
The moblin was closing with him and he swung the club to catch it in the side, making it stumble on the uneven footing of the bridge. Another blow opened a laceration that - of course - spurted black blood.
He heard something behind him starting to fizz with electricity.
Hylia, please, may that not be Hyrule or Wind.
Then there was a flash and an explosion. Wild was blown flat, then the bridge under him gave way and suddenly he was falling. Instinctively, his hand flashed to the slate clipped to his belt and he pulled out his paraglider to catch his fall, looking around as rain started to sheet down around him. The river wasn't far below. The cliffs on either side were sheer.
He could see Wind's pale-blue tunic in the water.
His heart skipped a beat, but Wind was a strong swimmer and as he surfaced and trod water, letting himself be swept along in the strong current, Wild could see he was unhurt. He looked up, saw Wild floating down, and raised a hand in a wave before he started swimming with the current towards a low, rocky outcrop jutting out from the cliff. Wild aimed for it himself and landed neatly, dropping to his knees to help Wind up too.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
The sailor nodded, though he looked winded and was looking around frantically. "Did you see Hyrule come down?" he asked and coughed.
Wild's blood ran cold again. "He was still on the bridge?"
Wind nodded.
Wild stood up and looked around. Hyrule's dark-green and -brown clothes would be easy to miss against dirty water and Wind had been swept a significant distance from the site of the battle. Hyrule might have found somewhere else to get out of the water. He might have been swept further downstream.
If he had been knocked out, he might have sunk and drowned.
If that lightning bolt had directly hit him, he might have been dead before he even hit the water.
Wind had his telescope out and was scanning the banks, his breath coming fast. Wild followed his lead, bringing up the scope on his slate.
"I'll look upstream, you look downstream," he said.
"Right," said Wind.
Wild carefully scanned every inch of the riverbank and the water's surface, beginning on his right and moving slowly to the left. Several times he glimpsed bits of wreckage from the bridge or that had been swept from further up the river.
Then he spotted something pale against one of them. With an exclamation, he zoomed in just in time to see that it was an ear and part of a cheek poking out from a mop of brown-blond curls, just above the water's surface.
"Hyrule!" he cried. He clipped the slate back into place even as he took a flying dive into the water.
The chill and the force of the current were a shock and he blew out a quick breath as he surfaced and started swimming as fast as he could to where he had seen Hyrule. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that he should have changed into his zora armor, but though it would help him swim more quickly and easily it wasn't worth the time it would have taken to change.
He reached Hyrule and grabbed him, pulling him free from the wreckage without too much difficulty. It was sheer luck that the current hadn't carried him away. Then he started swimming back towards where he'd left Wind.
As he went, he was horribly aware that Hyrule was making no attempt to struggle or swim.
Wind was at the water's edge, reaching out a hand, and Wild grabbed it. Wind steadied him as he dragged Hyrule out of the water, scrambled out himself, and bent over the still form, eyes flicking over Hyrule's chest.
It was still.
Wild gasped, the air feeling alien in his lungs as he laid a hand on Hyrule's chest, confirming that there was no movement.
"He- He's not breathing!" he blurted. He didn't know what to do. Hyrule had drowned. If he'd ever known how to revive someone who had drowned, that knowledge had gone the way of everything else he'd lost in the waters of the Shrine of Resurrection. And now Hyrule was… he was…
"Wild, let me see!" snapped Wind, shoving him away with surprising strength. He became aware that Wind had been trying to get past him since he'd got out of the water.
Wind bent over Hyrule, tilting his head back and looking closely at his chest. Then he sealed his mouth over Hyrule's and blew air into him. Again. And again. Wild couldn't see any change. Wind blew into Hyrule's mouth five times, then he laid his clasped hands on Hyrule's chest and leaned down hard. Again and again and again.
"W-Wild," said Wind, breaking him out of his frozen horror. He scrambled back to Wind's side. Wind didn't look up. "See what I'm doing?" he said breathlessly.
"Yes?"
"You can do it better. Heavier than me. Hands where mine are, press hard. About this speed. Ready?"
Wild swallowed hard. "Ready."
"Now!" Wind jumped back. Wild took his place, laid his hands in the middle of Hyrule's sternum, and pressed down hard.
One of Hyrule's ribs audibly cracked. Wild cried out, jerking back, horrified as he realized he'd just broken one of his brother's bones with his bare hands.
"Keep going!" said Wind, his voice almost a scream. "Keep going until I tell you to stop!"
Wild gasped in another breath and kept going, letting out a yelp as he heard another crack.
"It's better than being dead," said Wind. "Now stop!"
Wild froze as Wind blew air into Hyrule's lungs again, then, at a word, he started compressing his chest again.
They repeated the sequence twice more, breaking three more ribs, then Hyrule coughed. Wild didn't think he'd ever heard such a wonderful sound, but when he paused Wind shouted at him again to keep going.
Hyrule coughed again. And again. When Wind blew into his mouth his chest rose and fell.
Then, suddenly, the coughing got stronger and turned to retching. Wild instinctively rolled Hyrule onto his side and held him there, trembling, as he threw up river water onto the rocky ground. Wind had slumped to sit propped up on his hands. Wild couldn't tell if he was crying or if there was only rainwater pouring down his face. He couldn't even tell that about himself.
Hyrule dry-heaved and let out a small, pained whimper.
"Hyrule?" asked Wild, his voice coming out shaky.
Hyrule's eyes flickered open and he whimpered again.
"Hy-Hyrule?" Wind's voice broke on a sob.
"Wha… Wha ha'n'd?" mumbled Hyrule.
As Wild was trying to find words, he heard a familiar voice shouting, "Wild! Wind!"
He looked up and saw Time standing at the top of the cliff, waving. Twilight ran up beside him.
Wild waved back and called, "Hyrule's here too! He's…" I broke five of his ribs. "He's hurt!"
Hyrule mumbled something and went into another coughing fit. Wild bit his lip, looking down at him and combing his fingers gently through his wet hair.
By the time Twilight had let Time down on the end of a rope, Hyrule had stopped coughing so much, though his breathing sounded wet and he was limp in exhaustion, still whimpering faintly with pain. Wild had tried to prop him up, but that made the coughing worse. Wind was glued to his side, eyes flicking from his face to his chest, flinching at every cough.
"What happened?" asked Time, hurrying over to kneel next to them and looking at their faces.
"He drowned," said Wind softly.
Time looked serious. "Hyrule?" He murmured, bending down to look at Hyrule's face. Hyrule looked up with another faint cough.
"OK, let's get you up to dry land," said Time. "Are you two OK here for now?"
Wild and Wind both nodded. Time reached out and patted them both on the shoulder.
"I'll be back soon," he said gently. "Well done, both of you." Then he gathered Hyrule up in his arms and shouted to Twilight to pull him up again.
As soon as he was on his way back up the cliff, Wind let out a whimper, curling in on himself.
"Wind -" Wild put an arm around him, trying to restrain his own panicked trembling as he remembered that image of Hyrule face-down in the water, unmoving.
Wild buried his face in Wild's chest with a muffled sob. Wild hugged him, his own throat tight.
"It… It's OK," he said. "He's going to be OK."
As he spoke, he could hear the cracking of Hyrule's ribs and see the horrible stillness of his chest.
"You saved him," he said. "Wind, you saved his life."
Wind shook his head. "You did. I wasn't strong enough to -"
"No. You saved him." Wild buried his face in the top of Wind's hair. "Thank you. I'm so glad you were here. I had no idea what to do." The words seemed to unleash his own tears. If Wild had been alone, Hyrule would have died in front of him.
Wind was still crying, but he was a little calmer and Wild kept holding him, letting the rain wash over them as they waited for Time to come back for them, trying not to think about what could have been.
#whumptober2023#no.25#storm#They're not breathing#no.27#Let me see#linked universe#fic#explosion tw#near drowning tw#vomiting tw#my fanfic#linked universe whump#lu hyrule#lu wild#lu wind
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The shapes a bright container can contain!
II. After he’d hauled her out of the depths, it wasn’t up for debate.
Empirically speaking, Hermione Granger looked awful.
She’d vomited up what seemed to be better than half the Black Lake, a not insignificant portion of which had gotten into her hair, which was itself tangled with weeds, her curls almost black with lake water and mud. She’d had the foresight to throw off her robes before she’d gone into the loch, but that was about all he could say for her; her clothes, a blue button-down shirt and wool trousers, were plastered to her, slimy with algae, her leather shoes ruined, and beneath the filth streaking her face, she was whiter than the Grey Lady. There were violet shadows under her eyes he hadn’t seen before. She must have dropped the glamour when she was dealing with the Giant Squid. Her body, when he had wrenched it free from the water’s hold, was too slight and it had been too near, her death, when he’d dragged her up onto the bank and cast all the wandless Healing spells he could think of before he managed a Patronus to Abbott, who’d taken over after Pomfrey retired to Cornwall.
When Hermione still lay motionless, he stopped trying to revive her with magic and shook her, muttering prayers under his breath to anyone he could think of Merlin, Circe, Nimue and then the most basic God, for fuck’s sake, please, until she coughed again and opened her eyes. She looked dazed and her right hand moved ineffectually at her side as if she were seeking her wand. He grasped her hand in his and squeezed, just a little. She coughed again, more alert this time, trying to swallow the sound and he shook his head and murmured It’s all right. She turned her face to the side, letting him see her Naiad’s profile against the wrack mixed in with her hair and he remembered how she’d looked when they were young, how lovely she’d been before she’d fled Hogwarts, how pretty she’d been before his aunt started cursing her.
Abbott arrived then, brisk and competent, nodding when Draco explained he hadn’t wanted to risk Side-along when Hermione had been so fragile and likely magically depleted. Except he’d said Professor Granger and Abbott had rolled her eyes and replied.
“We’re all friends here, Draco. Unless you expect me to call you Professor Malfoy.”
Hermione said nothing but she was breathing, so he didn’t care much about anything else.
#dramione#next chapter#draco pov#hurt/comfort#tw: near drowning#hannah abbott#slow burn#hogwarts professors au#epilogue what epilogue
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In the Waves I Belong
day 7 of #steddieweek2023 - free space (I went with a mermaid au since it's also Mermay)
‼️tw near drowning
Steve and Robin go to the seaside together. They spend the days at the beach, and at night, they usually visit the local bars.
One day, they decide to go to a more remote beach. They want to have a little break from being among people and just chill.
They end up being the only people here. The weather is just perfect; it's sunny, but not too hot thanks to the cool breeze.
Steve decides to go for a swim while Robin lies in the sun. Everything is perfect... until Steve feels a migraine kicking in. The world starts to spin like crazy around him, everything melts into a blur. He knows he should get out of the water, but he's quite far away from the shore and it's not that easy. He can barely see anything, he doesn't know which direction to go.
“Steve?” he hears Robin call. “Are you okay?”
Before he can respond, a wave washes over him. He starts coughing as water fills his mouth and nose.
“Hold on, I'm coming,” Robin calls again.
No, Steve wants to yell, you can't swim. But he's unable to say anything, struggling to stay afloat. He's fully panicking now. He's going to die. They're both going to die.
Next thing he knows, a pair of arms wraps firmly around him. It feels almost like a hallucination. He can't even open his eyes to see what's happening; his body just won't listen to him. Soon, he can't feel anything at all.
...
“Steve?”
Slowly, Steve starts to feel his body again. But it still seems too heavy for him to control. He tries to take a breath, which causes a violent cough to shake his body.
“Steve!” someone calls again, grabbing Steve's shoulders and forcing him to sit up. “You're not gonna believe this!”
“What?” Steve mumbles. He finally manages to open his eyes and sees Robin looking at him, visibly shaken.
“Mermaids,” she blurts. “I swear I saw two mermaids, they... They saved us both,” she reports.
“Someone's been sitting in the sun for too long, huh?” Steve mocks. But when he looks around, there is no one else except for them. Which meant that unless Robin had suddenly gained expert swimming abilities, managed to rescue Steve and was now trying to prank him, there was no other explanation for what happened.
“Shut up, dingus,” Robin mutters. “You're soon gonna be sitting in the sun as well because there's no way I'm letting you go swimming ever again,” she rebukes.
....
Steve can't stop thinking about what happened, and neither does Robin. She hadn't really managed to take a proper look at the mysterious creatures; all she was able to tell was that there were two of them, most likely a boy and girl; the boy had long dark hair, and the girl was a blonde.
When they go to a bar in the evening, they decide to ask the locals about mermaids.
“Oh, there sure are some around here,” the barman tells them while preparing Robin's pina colada. “But they're quite shy, you need to be lucky to see one.”
Steve and Robin exchange looks. Nothing needs to be said, they're both thinking the same thing: they trurly had incredible luck earlier today.
Then, Steve sees two people walk in. His eyes instantly focus on the boy, more or less his age, with big brown eyes and dark curls tied into a messy bun. His companion is a blonde girl with a ponytail and bright blue eyeshadow on her eyelids.
“Oh my-” Robin gasps, looking at the pair. “Steve, it's them,” she whispers.
“What?” Steve asks, confused.
“The mermaids,” Robin explains.
Steve stares at the newcomers in disbelief. Is it possible for a mermaid to suddenly grow legs? And then, the boy notices him staring.
“Hey,” he greets with a warm smile. “Wanna dance?”
“Uhh... sure,” Steve stutters.
The stranger offers Steve his hand and leads him to the dance floor. From the corner of his eye, Steve can see that his companion took a seat next to Robin and they seem quite engaged in a conversation.
The boy grabs Steve's waist and they begin swaying to the music. Steve can't help but stare at him in awe. He could spend the rest of his life looking in those big brown eyes.
“Hey, sweet boy,” the man murmurs, pulling Steve closer. “I'm glad you're okay, you gave me quite a scare today.”
#stranger things#eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#fanfiction#fanfic#my wrtitng#robin buckley#robin and steve#steve and robin#platonic stobin#mermay#mermaid au#mermaid eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#platonic hellcheer#steddieweek2023#tw near drowning
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Febuwhump Day 7 - Suffering in Silence
I would like to preface this by saying I did NOT do much research for this so if you know much about first aid I am so sorry.
TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 1,817
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Hanta saw this video the other day, about how parents could hear the most blood-curdling screams but only panic when their children are suddenly silent.
Well, he thinks he knows the feeling. His friends are always loud, if in different ways. Mina is always squealing happily about something or another, Eijirou is always making noise, clanging weights in the gym or singing badly in the communal showers, Denki is always talking, always humming or stimming or body slamming into the nearest person he trusts not to punch him on instinct. Kyoka is always drumming on some surface or humming in the quiet of the lounge.
And Katsuki, he’s just… Katsuki. If you asked anyone to describe him in one word, it would be loud.
He thinks if any of them ever stopped making noise, he would be very concerned.
So that’s why when the loudest person in their class announces he’s going for a solo hike during their squad camping trip, Hanta, ever the mom-friend, allows him to go with just a handheld radio and some flares.
My quirk is a flare, dumbass.
Hey, you never know!!
And then the scheduled return time passes, and he never shows back up. There’s no noise
“I’m going to go look for him,” Eijirou checks his watch for the nth time, gathering his backpack and hastily shoving their med kit inside, “he probably wandered off the trail.”
They all know that’s not what happened. Katsuki is a stickler for rules, no way in hell would he have strayed from the path, and it’s unlikely he ignored to return time unless his phone or watch were dead. Even then, his survival skills are fantastic, he’d have come back by now.
Which means something is wrong.
Hanta chuckles thinly, “Or he wanted some more alone time, I’ll go with. Kyoka you should come too.”
They head out after confirming channels with Mina and Denki.
Eijirou nervously fidgets with his fabric bracelet as they trace Katsuki’s supposed hiking path. “You don’t think he was like… kidnapped or something, right?”
Kyoka shakes her head and removes her ear jack from the ground, “Nah, we’d know. Even if he couldn’t use his quirk he can still yell loud as fuck.” She offers no alternative.
“Sensei and our parents are the only ones who know we’re here anyway, it’s not like Ka- like last time.” Hanta glances at Ejiirou warily. The kidnapping first year is still a rough subject for all of them, but he knows Eijirou was affected almost as much as Katsuki is even after almost two years.
“Yeah.” Eijirou nods, reassured but still visibly anxious.
They step out into a sort of clearing, leading to a steep incline and cliff with a small lake beneath it. There’s an inky smudge on the cliffside and the occasional resilient weed poking from the gray rocks.
Hanta cups his hands around his mouth and yells Katsuki’s name a few times. “Well, he was definitely here. Do you think he went swimming?” Hanta suggests, walking down to the rocky mini-beach.
Eijirou looks more concerned than before, but steps forward with Hanta, “No, he hates water. Nullifies his quirk.”
Hanta turns back to Kyoka, “You could try your quirk again.”
Her expression startles him. Her eyes are wide, her mouth pressed into a thin line. But her ear jacks are still close to her head, so he isn’t sure-
She breaks off into a dead sprint, shoving past Eijirou and Hanta before they even have time to question her. Her radio and phone are tossed back as a last thought, but Hanta knows she still has her headphones on her, so whatever it is must be pretty urgent.
And then he spots it.
A limp, pale hand jutting out of the water, wedged in the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff. It’s so distant that Hanta can barely make it out, but it falls directly below the smudge.
Soot. From an explosion.
Fuck, he thinks, just as Eijirou voices it before tossing his radio as well and jumping in.
Kyoka has almost made it to Katsuki, because it can only be Katsuki under there, and takes a deep breath before submerging her head.
Please, fuck please let him be okay.
Hanta scrambles toward the water before remembering his training and pulling out his own radio.
First sending an SOS to the emergency line on his own, he then radios back to Mina and Denki on Eijirou’s.
“Did you find him?” Denki’s voice crackles through.
“Uh,” Hanta falters, looking from the radio to the water. Three of his friends are now under there and he has no fucking idea what the situation is, “listen, Denki. I don’t know how bad it is yet, but we need Aizawa or someone to come-”
There’s a splash, and Hanta’s head shoots up, Eijirou’s head flings out of the water. A soggy head of blond hair resting on his shoulder, “HANTA!” He screeches, more desperate than Hanta’s ever heard. “TAPE! TAPE!”
Kyoka’s head pops up next, gasping. Her arms flail as she tries to regain her buoyancy. “WE NEED DENKI HERE NOW!!”
Hanta flounders for a mere second before shooting into action. He arches his elbow and shoots a long rope of tape out to the edge of the lake. Eijirou immediately grabs onto the end, taking Kyouka’s hand as Hanta reels them in with a grunt.
He jams the SOS button on this radio as well and yells at Denki to look at the sky in the direction they walked earlier, “Do you see the tape?” He arches his other arm and shoots another line into the sky.
Denki is silent for a moment before he grunts an affirmative, and Hanta can tell he’s running.
Eijirou finally makes it to shore, dragging Katsuki’s limp body with him.
Well, not quite limp, he looks like he’s having some sort of seizure.
“Hyp-poxic c-convulsion,” Kyoka stutters, body shivering severely. It’s cold enough to warrant Katsuki wearing a scarf and gloves, which Eijirou is actively stripping him of. Hanta can’t imagine how cold they must be.
Denki enters the clearing just as Eijirou begins chest compressions, Hanta shouts at Mina to run back and grab all of their blankets. She’s frozen at the scene before her, but eventually nods hesitantly and turns back around.
“Denki, shock him, you need to-” Eijirou is still pumping at Katsuki’s chest, so focused that Denki has to practically shove him off.
“Back!” He shouts, rubbing his hands together and summoning his quirk.
Kyoka yanks Eijirou away from Katsuki and cuffs his hands with her ear jack.
Denki takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before resting his hands and pulsing electricity into Katsuki’s chest.
Katsuki’s chest arches, the movement so unnatural and controlled that it sends a shiver down Hanta’s spine.
Denki checks his pulse and resumes chest compressions, jaw clenching. They all collectively wince when they hear a dull snap.
Mina comes racing back into the open, throwing the blankets on the ground next to Eijirou and sliding to her knees.
“What’s happening?” A stern, tinny voice speaks out of Mina’s phone.
Oh, Aizawa. Good call.
“Katsuki went on a hike alone he must have fallen off the cliff. It looks like he tried to use his quirk but he ended up propelling himself into the water. He has a head injury, and probably needs stitches.” Kyoka relays with a dangerously monotone voice, the vigorous shaking has subsided for the most part.
Hanta’s eyes travel to where Eijirou is sitting near Katsuki’s head. His hand is pressing gauze against a bleeding wound on the upper part of his forehead. The skin around it is a shocking dark purple in comparison to the pale, almost blue tint of his skin.
Kyoka continues, “He was underwater for an unknown length of time, when we pulled him out he was convulsing. Weak, irregular pulse. Hanta?”
Hanta scoots forward, moving around Denki to press his fingers to Katsuki’s pulse point.
“Weak, irregular.” He says, looking up at Mina’s phone as if Aizawa will climb out himself and fix all their problems.
“Kaminari, shock him again, then check his pulse and tell me.”
Hanta removes his hands and allows Denki to take control again.
“CLEAR!” He shouts, activating his quirk. Katsuki’s eyelids flutter this time, giving them a glimpse of his severely bloodshot eyes.
Denki leans down and checks, “Heartbeat, no breathing.”
“Rescue breaths,” Aizawa instructs.
Denki shuffles to Katsuki’s side, tilting his head up and plugging his nose. He presses their mouths together and breathes several times. Katsuki’s chest moves steadily with each exhale.
“Is his chest rising?”
“Yes.” Hanta and Mina both respond, staring as they wait for something to happen.
Denki shifts back to chest compressions, blood smeared on his cheek from Katsuki’s head.
“How long has he been above water-”
Katsuki’s eyes shoot open, pink liquid bubbling up from his mouth as he chokes.
Mina gasps, “He’s-!”
“Move him on his side!” Aizawa yells from the phone.
Eijirou holds his head steady as they roll him, his chest heaving as water spews from his mouth and nose.
“Fuck, is this good? Please tell me this is a good thing, I don’t know what to do,” Eijirou leans over Katsuki’s head, trying to see his face.
“Kirishima, breathe.” Kyoka places a hand on his back, but Hanta can tell she’s panicking too.
Denki reaches forward to check his pulse again, sighing when he feels something. He pulls out his phone with the other hand and holds it in front of Katsuki’s mouth. They breathe a collective sigh of relief when it barely fogs.
“Steady pulse, he’s breathing.” Denki exhales, watching Eijirou’s arm as he rubs shaky circles into Katsuki’s back.
“Send me your coordinates, we will be there in ten. Make sure he stays breathing, you hear me?” Aizawa grumbles, “I have to call his parents, call me back if his condition worsens.”
The call clicks off, three beeps cutting into the thick silence.
Katsuki wheezes.
“Holy fuck.” Hanta breathes, finding a truckload of emotion hitting him all at once.
They almost lost him. They almost lost Katsuki to a stupid cliff. No villains, no fighting, just an unfortunate accident.
Katsuki spits up again, and Hanta looks down at the pool of water draining from his pale lips.
Just… some water.
Eijirou crumples, sobbing into Katsuki’s shoulder. He drags his fingers through wet blond hair, avoiding the wound that has finally stopped gushing blood.
“I… can’t believe that just happened.” Mina whispers, new manicure crusted with dirt, her knees scuffed and bleeding.
“Yeah.” Denki nods, pulling himself away from Katsuki and into Kyoka’s side.
“He’s going to be okay.” Hanta asserts, pulling one of the blankets over Katsuki’s shoulders and taking one of his hands. “He’s fine.”
He’ll say it as many times as he needs to.
#drowning#vomiting#panic#panic attack#tw blood#injury#bakusquad#CPR#mouth to mouth#defibrillation#near death experience#ambiguous ending#bakugou katsuki#sero hanta#mina ashido#aizawa shouta#makes an appearance#denki kaminari#jirou kyouka#kirishima eijirou#it's not really stated but implied kiribaku... just because#bnha#mha#bnha fic#mha fic#febuwhump#morgue's febuwhump 2024#febuwhump2024#febuwhumpday7
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I am going to put you under water (affectionate)
please don't I have almost drowned before
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What if a kid screamed bloody murder when being put in the bath, and the parent's explanation is "the last time we were at the pool, they took off their floaties and almost drowned, so now they refuse to be in water more than a few inches deep, they're fine with showers though"
Then they will help the kid with the shower if that's what they are comfortable with. They won't force the child to endure trauma for the sake of being clean.
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Written for the @flashfictionfridayofficial weekly prompt!
TW: drowning, near death experience
“That’s my offer, and you won’t be getting another one.” She set her jaw and tilted her head up in defiance, back straight with confidence that was undermined by the rapid beat of her heart. Could he hear it?
“Mal, what are you doing?” Fear laced Ilmaryne’s words as she pressed closer. Her hand had lost feeling in her crushing grip.
Laughter echoed through the shadows, not quite coming from any one direction and reverberating in her bones. The distinct impression of a smile, cruel and sharp pressed into her mind. “A deal, my dear.” One long shadowy hand appeared, holding a length of black ribbon just an arm’s length from her.
Time stands still.
The world narrows to the strip of fabric.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of a simple ribbon, my dear Malithra?” They should be offended by the teasing lit of those words just over the blood in their ears. Should scoff and straighten their back. Should do anything, but stand there frozen as the seconds drip away.
Movement pulls their attention.
In the darkness, they could just make out Ari, her body relaxed, but eyebrows raised, the only tell she’d give.
They’d never learned to swim.
“What do you mean?” Ari had laughed then, turning from her sunbathing to look at them.
“When would I have learned? The Glasfeld’s waters are barely tolerable to the creatures made for them, and I am not insane enough to join them.” They’d rolled their eyes at the time, even as their gaze returned to the gentle lapping waves threatening to close the gap between them.
“That’s unacceptable! We’re changing that this instant!”
“No.” The word had come out faster and harsher than they’d meant.
“Oh come on now, don’t tell me you’re afraid?”
“Of course not,” they’d scoffed. “I’m just comfortable.” Settling back against the blanket, they’d closed their eyes, pretending not to hear the water.
It hadn’t worked of course. Ari was nothing if not persistent when she wanted to be, and even if she didn’t know her own power, they’d been helpless to deny her. And as such, they’d ended up in the water.
Surprisingly, it had been warm, and pleasant then. Something freeing about the weightless feeling of moving through the shallows with her. Of course, the height difference meant it came up to her neck, but that hadn’t bothered her then. Not yet anyway.
But as it seemed was the nature of her life, those peaceful moments in the sunlight couldn’t last.
How exactly it had happened was lost to the moment’s of panic following. All she could recall now was one moment she was laughing at something Ari had said as they moved apart, and the next she was struggling and failing to stay above the waves. She’d swallowed water in the panic and couldn’t breath. Couldn’t catch her breath again. The world was obscured by rippling water. Her limbs burned from the effort of trying to stay afloat. All she could hear was splashing. She was choking. Inhaling more water. Drowning.
And then she’d realized she was going to die.
She hadn’t of course, Ari had gotten to her and pulled them both out of the water.
But in that moment of time, they had been convinced of the fact, and a part of their brain had accepted it. Peaceful wasn’t the word, but it wasn’t entirely wrong. It was just acceptance.
Afterwards, as they lay their coughing and choking out the last of the water, that feeling haunted them, and their heart had been so loud they’d nearly missed Ari’s choked laugh.
“Well. It seems we’ve found something the great Malithra isn’t good at,” she’d said. Her body appeared relaxed, though they could see the smallest tremor this close, she’d had a slight smile, and her eyebrows had been raised. The one tell she couldn’t shake.
They hadn’t returned to the water again after that.
Until now that was. And they’d still never learned to swim.
But now there was a shaking body next to them, another life on the line, whose death was unacceptable.
And that horrible feeling returned.
Her eyes left Ari and returned to the ribbon.
“Of course not.”
Her arm didn’t even shake as she held it out.
#writeblr#writing#amwriting#wip excerpt#excerpt#malithra#abyssal damned#ari#ilmaryne#the being needs a name#tw: drowning#tw: near death
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Alex & Friends Part 24-Transition
this is kinda short, sorry,
Phoenix and Aaron belong to @pigeonwhumps!
cw: medical whump, near drowning, spinal injuries,
Alex would’ve been the first to admit that she probably should’ve been paying more attention. But the pain in her chest and feeling that her throat was going to close up were much more distracting than the people swimming around her. One gripped her head while another supported her back.
She would’ve fought more, but she was too damn tired to care. Besides, Joseph seemed to trust them. In the back of her mind, she wondered where he’d gone, since she hadn’t heard him say anything in a while.
The person holding her neck said something to her, but her ears were half-underwater and she didn’t really hear him. There was another pair of hands on her, cutting off the life jacket.Several moments later, a hard piece of plastic was wrapped around her neck. A C-collar, oh joy.
Somebody else murmured something about the bleeding from her shoulder, and she giggled internally. That was nothing. She would’ve said something too, probably along the lines of “had worse, don’t worry about,” if speaking didn’t leave her gasping for air and coughing up a lung.
After the collar was secure, they wasted no time boarding her and loading her onto the boat. The air was colder than the water had been, and Alex stupidly wished that she could go back. She was covered in a shiny blanket. It didn't actually warm her that much, but it did keep the wind out, which was appreciated.
The boat started to move, the dreary sky passing over her head as they set off across the Thames.
She felt a drop of rain on her cheek, and she grumbled. Why couldn’t anything ever be easy?
***
Joseph was pleasantly surprised to find that Wolfman had called in extra medical help. On top of the standard HAL ambulance, Wolfman’s team doctor, Aaron, had also been called out to help. He’d met Aaron during his last training rotation, and he was glad that he’d work on Alex alongside somebody he knew and trusted. The healer was solid, and good at his job.
Aaron and Jess, one of the paramedics off the ambulance, had started checking Phoenix over while Joseph and the other paramedic, Cole, prepared for Alex’s arrival. It’d been ages since he’d worked on a propper ambulance, and Cole quickly oriented him to where everything was. Joseph pulled out extra blankets while Cole cranked the heating up.
He handed a blanket to Aaron, who quickly draped it around Phoenix’s shoulders. They whimpered a little, leaning into Aaron’s shoulder while he examined their mostly healed wound. His heart broke a little when he heard them quietly mumble several tearful apologies into the doctor's ear.
The rain started to come down harder, and when Joseph glanced out the window, he saw that the boat had landed. He pushed the doors open, watching as the rescue team made the short walk from the boat to the ambulance. Behind him, Aaron patted Phoenix on the shoulder and rose to standing, leaving a paramedic to take care of the hero he’d been treating.
Alex was carefully set on the stretcher, and everyone got to work.
Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump
#worlds babbles#whump#medical whump#near drowning tw#spinal injury tw#whump writing#alexoc#jospehoc#phoenix not my oc#aaron not my oc#and one water rescue team and two paramedics I don’t do justice lol
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