#and ‘near-death’ experiences

[ultravioletbrit]

“next” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 292 words

“decorating” - 25 Days of Jegumas - Day 7 - @noblehouseofgay

Regulus and James are sitting in front of the fire, wrapped in blankets and drinking hot cocoa. They’re desperately trying to get warm after spending the better part of the day outside decorating the house.

They put colorful lights around the edge of the roof; James almost fell off twice. They wrapped lights around the beams and banister of their front porch. They even wrapped some around the tree in their front yard.

Regulus untangled and connected countless strings of lights and he’s pretty sure he mildly electrocuted himself.

But they finally had all the lights up and everything plugged in. Now they’re thawing in front of the fire while they wait for it to get dark enough to see the fruits of their labor and near-death experiences.

Finally, the sky turns a deeper blue and the stars are coming out. They bundle themselves back up and make their way outside. They go to the side of the house first to plug everything in then walk to the end of the driveway, but don’t turn around yet.

“Ready?” James asks, literally bouncing, he’s so excited.

“Ready.” Regulus nods, not bouncing, but equally as excited.

They share a look then turn around to face the house and it’s… completely underwhelming.

“Huh.” James makes a noncommittal sound.

“Hmm.” Regulus hums in response. “It’s… well, it’s…” He trails off.

“Totally not worth it.” James scoffs.

“Not at all worth it.” Regulus agrees indignantly

“I could have died!” James shrieks.

“I could have died!” Regulus echoes. “And it’s just…”

“Meh.” They both say dejectedly.

They silently stare at the house for a moment before Regulus sighs, “I’m freezing. I’m going inside.”

“Next year, we’re going to get one of those inflatable snowmen and be done with it.” James tells him.

“Works for me.”

[butterflyscribbles]

Resilience🌻 (1/?)

I just think a conversation between these two would be……..interesting.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

A slightly disheveled Shang Qinghua is complaining and crying to an annoyed Shen Qingqiu about some harrowing mission he’s just come back from with Ming Fan (it was a joint Qing Jing/An Ding mission and Shen Qingqiu was too busy to go so he sent his head disciple). It was a train wreck, Shang Qinghua insists. It was an awful experience and they barely survived. Shang Qinghua nearly died.

The scene cuts to Ming Fan, who is covered in what looks like the remnants of a sewer and his robes are oozing something questionable in a puddle on the floor and overall, he looks like a drowned rat, is standing behind Shang Qinghua with a baffled and utterly appalled expression looking like he’s questioning reality as he remembers the shitshow he had a front row seat to in vivid detail.

Because while everything Shang Qinghua is saying is technically true?? Shang Qinghua was grudgingly competent and badass the entire time as he nearly single-handedly took care of the entire thing and the only person in any danger at any point was Ming Fan who has now sworn off ever going on a mission with An Ding again.

[mzuul]

WIP I’ll probably never finish

[anicream]

there's this light you keep on chasing

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[autumndragon]

In the episodes of Shell Shocked, Ruffnut and Tuffnut mention how Viggo would actually be fun to hang with if he didn't try to kill them all the time. Can you imagine Viggo being among the chaos of the Edge? I'm telling you, he wouldn't last a week.

.

Hiccup: Dragon Fly Four!

Hiccup: *jumps off a cliff*

Viggo:

.

Viggo: Fishlegs, are you alright?

Fishlegs: I will only tell you this once, senile old man, the name is Bonecrusher, Thor Bonecrusher

Viggo:

Viggo: wat

.

Viggo: should you not be at practice?

Snotlout: no, I quit the dragon riders. I will now be a beggar in the streets, all alone, cold, like my dead heart.

Viggo: oh--

.

Viggo: hello

Tuffnut: I kissed a frog :D

Viggo: goodbye

.

Viggo: finally, a sane person

Astrid, carrying two axes, five knives, a spear and a sword: kill

Viggo: understandable, have a great day

.

Ruffnut: *sitting behind a game board*

Viggo: ah! Maces and Talons, may I join?

Ruffnut: can't. I ate the pieces

Viggo: excuse-- you what

Ruffnut: I ate the pieces

Viggo:

Ruffnut: don't tell Hiccup

.

Ironically, Viggo finds dragons are the most sane creatures on the island.

[asherwesley]

“Folded, Faded, Hidden” 

Simon “Ghost” Riley x You

He carries your picture. Carries you in silence.

You’d never seen it.

Not once.

Not taped to the wall of his bunk, not tucked inside his wallet, not swiped through on his phone. You used to wonder – just briefly – if he even kept something of you when he left for missions.

But you never asked. Not because you didn’t want to know. But because he didn’t want to say.

So when he tells you – months later, after coming home with bruised ribs and a stitched-up shoulder – it’s not during a moment of vulnerability.

It’s when you’re folding laundry. Quiet, routine, domestic. That’s when he says it.

“I carry your photo,” he murmurs, like it’s an afterthought.

You pause, hands still on the fabric.

“What?”

“Printed. Small. Folded. Sewn into the inside of my vest, right over my heart.”

A beat. Then, “So no one could find it. No one could use it against me.”

There’s no softness in his voice. Just steel.

You realize then – he’s kept you close, closer than you ever imagined.

Not as a comfort token, but as something sacred.

Something worth hiding. Something worth surviving for.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Then another night, somewhere miles away —

The mission goes bad.

Extraction late.

Too fast. Too many. Blood seeps down his side, thick and hot. Leaking through the tactical fabric like black water. He’s behind cover, vision graying at the edges. No one’s answering comms. He knows he’s alone.

He doesn’t panic.

Simon Riley doesn’t panic.

But he does press one trembling hand against his chest – right over the hidden seam, the tiny flap of cloth hand-stitched shut by his own needle and thread.

And beneath it: a small picture.

Crinkled from wear. The ink faded. Folded into fourths until your face is barely visible, but it’s you all the same.

You, smiling. Head tilted. Unaware he ever took the shot.

He presses his palm harder. Breathes deep.

“Still with me.”

That’s what he thinks, right before the darkness takes him.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

When he wakes in the med bay, broken but alive, the first thing he checks is that vest. That hidden seam.

It’s still there.

You’re still there.

Always. First and last.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Later on, you find the vest. He doesn’t let anyone else patch it.

You stumble upon the pocket by accident – fingers brushing a seam that feels thicker than the others.

And when you tug the thread free and unfold the tiny square, the photo slips into your hand. Your face. Smudged. The colors faded to warm sepia. Corners worn nearly to tissue.

It’s been kissed. Or clutched. Maybe both.

Simon doesn’t say anything when he sees you holding it.

But he watches you like you’re the only anchor in a storm-ripped sea. Like if he speaks, the weight of that tenderness might crush him.

And still — no “I love you.”

Just this,

“You don’t go in my phone. You go with me.”

──── ⊹⊱⊱♡⊰⊰⊹ ────

“The first thing that steadies his breath.

The last thing he thinks about before the dark close in.

It's you.”

[palettepainter]

Still tryna figure out how I draw him, I think I draw his legs too big and his neck too long but either way, he's fun to doodle!

[bugblast]

ok i lied more doodles. im just posting them here now idgaf anymore

[dandp]

The universe said ok Dan and Phil you can meet your soulmate young and experience success most people could only dream of but you WILL have frequent catastrophes to make up for it

[funeral]

Bruce Greyson, "Congruence Between Near-Death and Mystical Experience"

[butterflyscribbles]

A friendly spar💪❤️

[indulgentdaydream]

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

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

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

Out of the Bag

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

Word Count: 1,862

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

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

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

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

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

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

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

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

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

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

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out!”

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

[tdickbuckley]

Buck just randomly drops pieces of lore and doesn't elaborate.

"this reminds me of the time the lightning strike gave me superpowers."

"it was hard getting back in the ocean after the tsunami."

"I still feel bad about throwing up blood on Athena's flowers."

And every time Tommy gets whiplash.