#Buried alive tw

[strawberrylabs]

Whumptober day 5 with Wanderer!

Prompt: debris

Whumptober masterlist

Summary: Wanderer regrets his last words to you.

Warnings: Being burried alive, arguments, blood, yelling, death, willing death

It wasn't uncommon for you and Wanderer to get into arguments.

He wasn't always the best with words, or with being honest about his emotions.

Usually conflicts could be resolved within the hour and everything would be fine.

This time it was different.

"Fine! Go ahead and die! Abandon me like everyone else did!"

Spit flew out of wanderer's mouth as his anger seeps through his words.

You had recently come back from a particularly dangerous commission, one where your life was out in danger more than once, and you had received quite a few injuries.

"You know that's not fair! I'm doing my job! You know I would never just intentionally die, that's stupid!"

Normally you were calm when arguing with him. You know he's learning, and you'd usually have patience.

But not this time.

He scoffs.

"Well you're human so I wouldn't put it past you to be stupid enough to die. You would be selfish enough to leave me alone after getting me attached to your mortal ass!"

"Fuck you."

He turns to you

"What was that?!"

"Fuck you! I have been nothing but patient with you these past months as you learn about emotions! I've dealt with everytime you yelled and given you time to calm down! But I will not be called selfish for saving someone elses life! And I will not be guilt-tripped by you accusing me of abandoning you!"

You seethe at him, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"What would you do if I did die? Is my last memory going be worrying about you hating me for supposedly abandoning you? Is my name going to be tarnished by your opinion on my death?"

You could feel yourself boiling with unbridled rage.

"Yeah well maybe it'd be better if you died! Then this false heart wouldn't feel so heavy all the time!"

The silence after his words was heavy.

"I'm going to finish my commissions. I'll come back when you stop being a prick."

You fix him in place with a hard glare.

Wanderer feels a lump in his throat. He'd seen you glare sure, but never at him.

You close the door behind you without a second thought.

Fine. Wanderer would wait. It's not like you could avoid him forever, you live with him after all.

And so he waited.

He would never admit that he didn't sit down once. He would never admit that he didn't stop pacing.

He would never admit that he didn't notice the hours passing, too stuck in his own head.

It was only when he heard someone yelling about the location of your commission did he snap out of his daze.

"Someone said the buildings in the area collapsed!"

Wanderer was out the door in an instant.

Surely you were out of there already right?

The only reason you weren't home is because you being petty, right?

'What would you do if I did die? Is my last memory going be worrying about you hating me for supposedly abandoning you? Is my name going to be tarnished by your opinion on my death?'

Wanderer bit his cheek so hard it bled.

He was an idiot.

Wanderer finally made it to the old village after a few short minutes.

The place was a wreck.

Not a single building was left standing.

But what caught Wanderer's eye was a familiar piece of clothing.

Time froze.

There, in the light of the now setting sun, painting the morbid scene in a sardonic shade of red; lay you. Your lower half covered by rubble of a half fallen, unstable, building. Blood was leaking from where your body disapeared.

He had to get you out.

And he had to get you out now- or else the rest of the building would collapse.

"Hey! You moron, stay with me!"

He got no response.

He left out a breathe when he felt your pulse. But you were unconscious.

"Come on! Wake up! I can't get you out like this!"

He grabs underneath your arms and pulls, eliciting a whimper of pain from you.

"Shit! Come on!"

The more he pulled, the more cries fell from your mouth.

He tried to lift the debris, but it just made the remaining structure unstable.

Before he knew it, hot tears were streaming down his face.

Normally he wouldn't let anyone see him cry.

But in this moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"im sorry! Ok?! Im sorry! I know I was wrong, dammit! I know I'm terrible with words and emotions and im sorry I took it out on you! I know it was stupid!"

he grits his teeth, not attempting fighting the tears

"But archons be damned, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me! I need you! You make me whole! You make this fake heart feel something! and I'm not letting you leave me!"

"I'm sorry I said what I did! I was a fool! I know you would never leave me and life would be unbearable without you!

He places his forehead on yours

"so please..." he whispers

"Please! Stay!!"

He feels a hand on his cheek and snaps his eyes open to see your weak gaze meeting his.

One look at your expression told him all he needed.

You weren't making it out alive.

"..I'm staying with you."

You sputter

"You can't! This building will fall any second. You have to go-"

"I don't care! I'm not abandoning you. I'm not leaving the one idiot I love in this cursed world!"

Wanderer moves to be beside you, lying down as best he can to hold you. You action is awkward given the obstacles, but it's morbidly comforting all the same.

No more words are spoken as the two of you look at each other.

No moves were made, now phrases uttered, but the emotion in your eyes conveyed all that needed to be said.

'You loved him.'

'And he loved you.'

You held each other tight as you focused only on one another, foreheads touching.

The last thing wanderer saw as the roof fell, was your resigned, love filled eyes.

And then it all faded to nothing.

Link for part 2(currently a poll to decide what to do)

#whumptober2023 #no. 5 #wanderer x reader #death tw #buried alive tw #wanderer x reader angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader angst

[rp-meme-central]

Send “pushing up dirt” for my muse to claw their way out of their grave.

Send “un-buried” for your muse to dig themself out of their grave. 

#rp memes #inbox memes #askbox memes #buried alive tw #potentially #the muse might be undead #zombies

[whumpinthepot]

@whumpmasinjuly 2023 day 15. Buried.

Credit goes to @zobodahobo

#whumpmasinjuly2023 #whumpmasinjuly #wij23day15 #whump meme #buried alive tw #breezys post

[vocesincaput]

OPEN STARTER: Izzy Hands

Each and every night for over a week, a seagull would land upon the makeshift at the head of a grave. Until one night, the top layer of earth began to shift, the disturbance in the soil growing more and more until fingers could be seen clawing out.

Frantic fingers became hands, became arms until finally the mans face appeared with gasps for air. Coughing up dirt that had filled his throat and nose as he dragged himself out from beneath the ground to lay sprawled out on the ground beside where his body had once led.

Confused, delirious, Izzy managed to sit himself up enough to cough up the rest of the dirt before looking around. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. Nothing around him looked remotely familiar. Not the coastline, not the rundown looking cabin behind him... not until his eyes fell upon what sat at the head of where he climbed out of.

The wooden leg the crew made for him.

Izzy frowned as he looked at it, noting the piece of wood attached to it. His brow furrowed and he looked down at himself and then at the earth he just dragged himself out of. The realisation was slow until suddenly the memory of it came rushing back to him, making him close his eyes and hold his head.

He had died...

He had died on the Revenge's deck with Ed over him. It was still a little bit hazy but he remember what had happened. But it just made the former first mate more confused and he looked down at himself. How was he alive? How was this possible?

Izzy's mind ran through so many things all at once before settling on Ed and the crew... He could only imagine what they must be going through with all the hell Ricky seemed to want to bring down on them all.

Izzy didn't even think about how they would coping with his death. If they had not buried him at sea like anyone who lived their life upon it deserved and instead an unfamiliar location with none of them around... he must not have meant as much to any of them as he thought that he was starting to. Sighing at the thought, the former first mate ran his hands over his face before looking back out over the view, lit by the pale moonlight.

If they had buried him in such a place, they were all better off not knowing he was alive once more. They must have made their peace with it if they had abandoned him in a grave, they didn't need to know. And so after removing the piece of wood from his wooden leg, Izzy strapped it on and struggled to his feet before heading off into the night.

Izzy was alone now. He couldn't go back to life he had once lived, not if everyone was to believe he was still dead. He had to start anew.

After walking through the night and into the early hours of the morning as the sun rose on the horizon, Izzy encountered two people asleep beside the burnt out embers of a campfire. Moving as quietly as he could, he slid a knife out of the sheath next to one of them before making quick work of killing both and hiding their bodies. Returning to their campfire, the former first mate got it going again slightly before changing out of his dirtied and bloodied leathers into some of the clothing he found at the camp.

Knowing that he would need to look different if he was going to go unnoticed, Izzy sat beside the campfire and took the knife once more. Slowly and carefully cutting off his hair until it was in a far shorter style than he had ever worn. The feel of it strange beneath his fingers as he ran his hand through the short strands. He smirked sadly before carefully using the knife to shave off his beard. Leaving just the moustache.

Afterwards, he ate some of the food supplies and tried to think of a plan to do next. As if was lost in thought, Izzy's eyes settled upon the golden unicorn leg.

That... was definitely something that was going to have to change.

Even after having buried where he had and feeling abandoned and unwanted by the crew, Izzy couldn't bring himself to just throw it away. So, he worked at removing the leg from the harness and placed it into a bag that was sat next to where one of the men had been sleeping. He then took a piece of wood from what he assumed was supplies for the fire and began to whittle and carve away for a few hours until it resembled something that would work as a leg. Attaching it to the harness, Izzy thought about how he had had to relearn to do most things with the unicorn leg and sighed.

He couldn't dwell on the past. Not now.

After packing what supplies he could into the small bag, Izzy headed off again. Walking for far longer than he should with his wooden leg until he came upon a small village. After talking with a man in the inn there, giving him the name of Hes (short for Hesikia, a family name), he managed to get a room in exchange for work in the inn.

Some time passed and Izzy settled in at the Inn. Working various jobs around the place, mostly repairing what he could. Whenever any people would come in that he knew were pirates, Izzy would slip out of sight. Giving an excuse that it brought back memories of how he lost his leg after his former home had been attacked by pirates. Even with his shorter hair and no beard, he knew some may still recognise him and would definitely recognise his voice.

It was the middle of the day and Izzy was working on repairing a chair leg whilst sat at the back of the inn, mostly out of sight, when he heard a voice that made him still completely. Breath catching in his throat.

He knew that voice...

Swallowing, the former first mate looked out from where he was sat. Instantly recognising who it was. Cursing under his breath and knowing that he could easily be seen and possibly still recognised, Izzy got up and, as carefully and quietly as he could, began to make his way to the door that led to the backstairs up his room. He needed to get out of there for a few hours. Out of sight until the familiar face had left.

Making it up to his room, Izzy closed the door and moved over to the window. Glancing out to check if he could sneak out onto the small balcony and away. He was just about to climb out of the window when there was a sharp knock at his door.

#ic #muse: izzy hands #verse: izzy hands : new life #non rp blogs do not interact #non rp blogs dni #non rp blogs will be blocked #non mutuals do not interact #death mention cw #cw death mention #buried alive tw #tw: buried alive #tw buried alive #//please continue in a new post #//as it helps me keep track of things easier #//so apparently Hesikia is another possible name he was known by alongside Basilica #//please do not feel as if you need to match the length #//i got carried away with 1164 words.... lol #open starter: izzy hands #open starter

[sylvanfreckles]

@whumptober-archive

Day Twenty-Four: "I thought he was with you"

Summary:

Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't sleep. Don't panic.

Dorian has gone missing. Cyrus, Opal, and Dariax are looking for him, but their leads are running thin and they may be running out of time. The only clue they have is "three miles east and two feet down".

#whumptober2023 #no.24 #i thought he was with you #critical role #fic #buried alive tw

[erabundus]

i've  mentioned  before  how  ren  is  generally  pretty  apathetic  to  most  forms  of  bodily  harm.  his  pain  tolerance  is  absurd,  his  healing  factor  renders  most  wounds  a  minor  inconvenience  at  best,  and  he's  effectively  IMPOSSIBLE  for  a  normal  person  to  kill.  however,  there  is  one  form  of  harm  —  or  rather,  one  possible  fate  that  genuinely  terrifies  him.  (  more  than  just  the  incomprehensibly  long  stretch  of  his  infinite  lifespan.  )  namely,  being  buried  alive.

granted,  it's  not  just  the  idea  of  being  buried  alive  that  he's  afraid  of.  a  few  feet  of  dirt  could  never  hope  to  hold  him;  under  most  circumstances,  he  could  eventually  dig  his  way  out.  miserable,  uncomfortable,  but  otherwise  no  worse  for  wear.  it's  the  specific  kind  of  buried  alive  that  doesn't  afford  him  that  luxury  which  scares  him.  being  trapped alone  indefinitely,  crushed  beneath  a  mountain  of  rubble,  unable  to  move  or  see  or  scream.  (  and  knowing,  even  if  he  could,  his  cries  would  go  UNHEARD.  )  he  can't  actually  die  —  it's  a  literal  fate  worse  than  death.

it's  not  a  thought  that  necessarily  HAUNTS  him;  it  holds  no  influence  over  his  actions.  it's  just  something  that  occasionally  pops  up  in  his  mind  — a little horrified moment of  yes,  that  very  well  could  happen.

#𝟎𝟎𝟒 : 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥. ◟ hc .◝ #( nearly got caught in a cave in during his time in the abyss & only escaped bc one of his soldiers had a cryo vision ) #( it rattled his brain with the realization of what could have happened ''oh. that would be unpleasant.'' ) #claustrophobia tw #buried alive tw #( mind it's a different kind of trapped from being Crammed In The Robot Forever bc in that regard he'd still be seen. ) #( he'd still be experiencing some manner of stimulation. he'd still be able to interact w/ the world even in a warped capacity. ) #( it's specifically the fear of being trapped somewhere alone & being unable to see hear talk forever. ) #( unable to die unable to free himself )

[enkisstories]

Suddenly... a wrong turn... your arms going up in panic when they should have steadied you instead... and you’re falling already. No way to regain your balance, no way to go down gracefully.

With your legs bend and your feet remaining caught in the bindings you fall on your back, but continue going down the slope. The board pulls at you, your legs bend further until you hear a bone crack...

Eventually you hit a snow bank and come to a halt. You cry out in pain, only to cough when snow enters your throat. More snow comes down, until you’re buried beneath tons and tons of it.

So ends the hero of the slopes...

Chris: Why... why did I insist... I should never have taken up this sport... They TOLD me it was insanely dangerous. Why didn’t I listen... No, wait... what’s that smell?!

#sims4 dbh VtheVisitors #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 #sims4 #the sims 4 #accident tw #death tw #buried alive tw

[hawkaboy]

Drabble!

terrible drabble i wrote to cope: 

TW: Buried Alive, Mentions of Death, Claustrophobia, Messy Writing

enjoy!

The air was rarified,

The painful, slow breathes, taken counted.

One.

He looked around, analyzing the dark, muddy wood that was heavy, close to his face.

Two.

Enclausared, with very little room to move, the cuts opening on his back.

-

Three.

The wooden casket was hidden at least 7 foot from the ground, far from where he could reach easily.

He was buried, to die in the shore.

Shallow screams weren’t going to reach the surface.

#oc #cyberpunk #drabble #sad #claustrophobia #claustrophobia tw #buried alive #buried alive tw #drablle #whump drabble #whump scene #whump community #i need to cry so i wrote this #poetic i guess #ryo really got buried alive #one more for the bingo i guess #whump #please

[aaronnaphiliou]

Avatar the Last Airbender Whumptober 2023 Day 25

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

It sounded like thunder, but it wasn't storming

#whumptober 2023 #no. 25 #dialogue prompt #lyric #buried alive #Storm #avatar the last airbender #avatar: tla #avatar #fanfic #buried alive tw #death tw #herbalist zuko

[violettavonviolet]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Buried Alive, kind of, Resurrected Jason Todd, Catatonic Jason Todd, Young Tim Drake, Crack Treated Seriously, Maybe - Freeform, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, hes so chill, Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Neglect, as always with Tim, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, helping your friend escape his grave, Temporary Character Death, gratuitous mentions of zombies, Tim Drake and Jason Todd are Siblings, Tim Drake Needs a Break, Tim Drake is Not Robin Series: Part 4 of whumptober 2023 Summary:

It hadn’t been a good day, a good week or a good month. Most of all months since Jason Peter Todd had tragically died had been bad. On one such night with a heavy rain that only ever got worse, Tim found himself once more at the gravesite, sitting in silent contemplation.

As he sat in front of the grave the rain almost drowned the sounds out. Almost. Because there were loud, curious sounds coming from below Tim. Only, below Tim was dirt and bones… or at least that’s what was supposed to be there. But those sounds, scratching and eery groaning did not sound like mice or whatever else built their burrows deep in the mud.

 Wide eyed, Tim took a few steps back and listened more closely. There was banging, like someone was hitting wood with something hard, but it was muffled. Very muffled. Was this… a zombie attack? This was Gotham of course, so there was no telling what might have happened, but there was definitely something moving in the burial ground of the last ever Robin. What if it was Robin? He had to help!

or: Tim is there when Jason wakes up and it changes the course of history for the better

 DAY 4: SHOCK // YOU IN THERE?

#whumptober 2023 #no.4 #shock #you in there? #fic #dc #temporary character death tw #child neglect tw #buried alive tw #resurrected jason #crack treated seriously

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: Waking Up

If Eddie was being honest with himself, he didn’t really expect to wake up. 

The bats had closed in and as he said his goodbyes to Dustin, he could physically feel the life leaving him, all the warmth of his blood slowly gushing out, and he was cold.

Though, being honest with himself again, if he had expected to wake up, he would have expected to be handcuffed to a hospital bed, or hidden away in a back shed at one of the kids houses or maybe waking up in Steve’s room, if he was lucky, like he had so many times before.

He definitely wouldn’t have expected to wake up here.

Dirt falling into his eyes and his mouth through the wooden slats above him, no sound at all apart from his own panic, the cold, the fucking damp cold seeping into his skin, the smell of earth around him, his elbows and knees knocking off the wood as he started to freak the fuck out.

They’d buried him, they’d fucking buried him!

Did no one check to see that he was still fucking alive?

How the fuck was he still alive?!

You know what? Sort your fucking priorities out, Eddie, he said to himself. You can continue to ask questions as soon as you GET THE FUCK OUT!

He kicked, he scrabbled, he dug his fingers in between the flimsy, obviously homemade slats of his makeshift coffin and pulled, having to turn his face away from the dirt falling into his eyes again, holding his breath so he didn’t inhale it, feeling it trickle into his ear but deciding that it was the least of his fucking problems.

The fear and frustration and blind motherfucking panic coursed through him and he drove his fist upwards, punching clean through the wood and earth and laughing aloud with joy when he felt air on his hand, down to the wrist.

They’d only buried him as deep as his arm, what a fucking mercy, holy shit.

Okay, okay, okay, chill. Chill.

He was able to punch up pretty easily so he reared back as much as he could in the cramped space and punched again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He was able to get one arm out as far as his elbow and he swung it down, digging his fingers into the soft earth as hard as he could, using that as leverage to drag his head up. He spat out the dirt in his mouth, his body shaking with coughs as he wedged his shoulder up and pulled his other arm out.

With two hands free he was able to scrabble at the soft earth, slowly, so slowly pulling and dragging and wiggling until he was still buried up to the hips but he could fucking rest for a moment collapsing onto the ground, half in half out, Jesus H. Christ.

He only allowed himself a moment before he pushed against his arms again, lifting himself up and pushing, kicking until his legs were free and he could crawl a couple of feet away.

His whole body shook forward as he heaved, dry and aching with that gut deep pain because there was nothing to throw up.

Eddie allowed himself to tip to the side, rolling onto his back, closing his eyes and just existing for a moment, trying to grapple with the fact that he just dug himself out of his own fucking grave.

That’s so fucking metal.

It didn’t feel very metal right now but it probably would at some point in the future.

Maybe.

Now he just had to figure out if he was stuck inside of a psychological thriller or a supernatural horror.

He was kinda hoping for the second one if he was being honest with himself.

He should probably stop being honest with himself.

Look at what happened when he was. 

He woke up after taking a fucking dirt nap.

Fuck.

He opened his eyes, looking up at the sky and all he saw was red.

Well…

Fuck.

Again.

Still in this hellhole, then.

Okay.

Probably time to figure shit out, or whatever.

Eddie groaned as he sat up, giving a cursory glance around, hoping that maybe it was just a really red sky type of day in the Rightside Up but no such luck.

He was met by the sight of black vines and a general sense of decay, so yep. Still in hell, great.

There was a thick plank of wood sticking straight up out of the earth and as he shuffled closer to inspect it, he realised it was a headstone. They’d fashioned him a makeshift headstone.

It was simple, he wouldn’t have expected any more given the lack of materials here in the alternate dimension.

Just his name, Eddie, engraved into the wood, no dates, no epitaph, just Eddie.

He didn’t hate it. 

He’d have loved some paragraph about his fuckin sick guitar skills or whatever but he could like simple too.

He rarely did, but he could.

Plus, they took the time in a weird fucky dimension to give him a headstone, how could he hate that?

As he looked closer, he noticed a small little heart near the base, S+E snuggled inside, shallow and hastily carved.

Shit.

He needed to get topside, now.

What a stark reminder that the entire Party thought he was fucking dead.

Steve thought he was fucking dead.

God, he hoped he hadn’t told Wayne yet.

That’s just what he needed, to kill his old man with a fucking heart attack.

Eddie pushed himself to his feet and started walking, not sparing a glance back at his grave, hopeful his next one would be, like, seventy years in the future.

There were grooves cut deep into the earth, practically guiding him back to his trailer, or whatever was left of it in this dimension and Eddie couldn’t stop the sickening feeling building up in his stomach that all of this had been for nothing.

They’d fucking lost.

They can’t have lost, right?

His trailer was just ahead, bisected and falling apart, but he could see the portal glowing so he’d get topside, take a look out the window and see that everything was fine…

Sure, yeah.

Totally.

Eddie looked up, the portal floating above him amongst the debris.

It wasn’t that high, surely if he-

He jumped, his eyebrows flying up into his hairline when he easily reached the lip, hanging by his fingertips off the edge and pulling himself up as smooth as if he was floating in water.

He didn’t exactly understand all those physics Dustin had lectured them all on but this… didn’t seem to be that.

He dropped down to his feet, the amount of colour greeting him almost hurting his eyes but he couldn’t focus on that.

He didn’t have time to.

Because as soon as he straightened up, there was the barrel of a shotgun pressed to his forehead.

Eddie threw his hands up, having to blink a few times before he realised who was behind it.

“Sweetheart?”

Steve was glaring at him, the shotgun held steady and firm in his hand. He looked haggard and dirty and somehow even more injured than Eddie had last seen him.

There was a healing burn along the side of his head, making it look like he’d shaved his hair, there was a deep cut through his eyebrow and his arms were littered with small cuts and bruises, extending up into the sleeves of his dirty polo.

And he was wearing Eddie’s vest. 

He was wearing his vest like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it was part of his wardrobe and had been for a while. 

Despite the fucking gun pressed to his head, Eddie’s heart flip flopped around in his chest, more to do with affection than fear.

“Sweetheart, I-”

Steve pressed the gun against him harder with a furious grimace.

“I am not your sweetheart. What are you?”

“I-” Eddie swallowed. That seemed like a very specific question.

Not who are you, not what are you doing here, not how are you upright and not in the dirt, rotting?

No.

What are you.

“Stevie it’s- it’s me. It’s Eddie.”

Steve pressed in harder again, walking him backwards until he was up against the wall.

“You are not my Eddie.” He hissed. “I buried my Eddie a month ago.” Steve’s finger moved down to rest against the trigger. “Now I’ll ask you again. What are you?”

“I…” Eddie opened and closed his mouth. “I don’t know.”

I won't deny it, @momotonescreaming's Hole Microfic put the worms in my brain for this one. Different vibes but the worms did worm.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #penny ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #established relationship #tw buried alive

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Do What I Cannot

This is based on My Graveyard Song because I was captivated by the idea of Danny’s parents burying him alive. That’s basically the only part I took though. This is about him being confronted with his parents again once freed.

This is unedited so feel free to point out mistakes. Contains graphic description of violence.

-----------

The Justice League’s newest hero has been a wonderful asset, truly! Phantom is a rather powerful hero and even though some of his methods are a little questionable he follows the ‘no killing’ rule more strictly then some of the long-term members. Even if it’s just because he doesn’t want to deal with them as ghosts it still counts. Some of the more magical people have an idea that Phantom is more powerful then he’s letting on, but they don’t push it. After all he’s still just a teenager, they don’t really want to have him dealing with universal threats either.

Honestly even if he weren’t a hero Batman at least would have kept him around for the impressively positive affects he has on Red Hood. Jason had been calmer and more reasonable then he had been since his resurrection since digging up that grave and teaming up with Danny. It was just a little unsettling sometimes honestly, sometimes his eyes would glint with the green of the Lazarus waters and everyone would tense up prepared for an aggressive outburst only for Jason to announce he needed to find Danny and leave. The more suspicious minds found it odd, but they figured it was just because Phantom could calm Jason down and didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Really the only problem was that knowing Phantom had alerted them to a potential new source of threat that they really knew very little about. The JLD knew some but not enough and the ways they had to fight ghosts were clunky and unreliable, they needed weapons that would work on ghosts. Not Phantom obviously, though the overly cautious ones privately thought about him too, just in case you know? And there weren’t many people who specialized in such tech, so of course their search lead them to the Drs. Fenton.

The magic users thought their methods were crude and crazy but had to admit they clearly worked so maybe it would be best to invest in at least some of their tech. At least to study and see if it could be improved on. So they were invited for a meeting, and it was decided Phantom would Not be told. Mostly because they didn’t want to stress him out and also because they’d learned these two were ‘shoot first ask questions later’ types who apparently didn’t believe there was such a thing as a good ghost so they might actually try and kill Danny on sight, which would be awkward.

The presentation they gave to the Justice League was predictably unhinged and they knew well enough to take all of it with a grain of salt, especially the part about all ghosts being evil. Danny had already explained it to them, that ghosts were driven by obsessions which meant they behaved differently then humans but the majority only lashed out when something got between them and their singular passion. Some were different, some had malicious passions and some were more complicated. Diana and J’onn both looked like they were trying hard not to pick a fight but they’d all agreed to smile and nod till they got access to the tech.

There was a familiar sudden chill in the room, looking around Batman could tell a few others felt it too, though Flash was typically oblivious.

“Oh dear,” J’onn whispered before Phantom appeared.

“Hey guys what’s up?” He asked, cheerful but slightly accusatory, they should have known better then to think they could keep the meeting from him. Before they could think of anything to say Danny’s eyes caught on the Fentons and narrowed.

“GET DOWN!” Jack yelled pulling out one of those stupid blasters from somewhere.

“What a perfect chance for a demonstration,” Maddie said, sliding on a pair of gantlets.

“You-you don’t recognize me, do you?” Danny asked, and for a moment he looked hurt, then something happened none of them had ever seen before, his eyes turned red. The toxic green they were used to changed to a deep, blood red and his feet touched the ground as he stalked forward. Jack shot, Danny didn’t break stride, a green shield blocked the blast like it was nothing. Maddie tried to lung and was immediately hit in the gut by one of Phantom’s ecto-blasts, knocking her back against the glass.

Batman leapt up and tried to lung and stop Phantom only to hit a wall that rippled with green, a bubble surrounding the ghost and the two hunters, invisible until struck.

Danny grinned, shark like teeth on full display without any mirth, white hair whipping in an unfelt wind, flowing so it almost looked like flames. “I guess I look a lot different then I did when you buried me alive huh? How long did you leave me? Because you ‘couldn’t kill you son’ so you thought it would be more merciful to lock me away till everything human about me rotted.”

“No,” Maddie gasped, recognition suddenly sharp and painful on her features.

“Yes ‘mom’,” Danny snarled bitterly. Jack tried to shoot again but the blaster was knocked out of his hands so quickly no one was sure what hit him before it could fully charge. “YOU MADE ME! AND YOU ABANDONED ME! You’re lucky someone found me, I would have gotten strong enough to break out on my own eventually and if I had I would have destroyed everything.”

“Oh my god, his parents?” Diana nearly whispered. Batman understood how she felt, Danny didn’t like to talk about how he’d ended up buried ‘alive’, that his parents were the ones who had done it… that was horrific. It made sense why he had never been able to speak about it, but Damn that would have been good to know before they had invited Danny’s abusers to give a presentation on weapons that had no doubt been used to hurt him. And now.. what? They couldn’t get to Danny, it seemed like he had gotten to the point that Raven did sometimes when her emotions overwhelmed her, could they get to Danny? Could they stop him from doing something he might regret?

“You are not our son,” Maddie hissed, her breathing still coming in a harsh wheeze from the blow to her stomach. “Danny is dead! He’s gone. You’re just an acto-entity imitating him, and not even well, you’re just a parasite.”

Danny seemed to be losing some control of his form, it was stretching, getting taller, his fingers curling into dangerous claws tipped with the blackness of the star studded void. “Pathetic mortals, you act as if you will never die, but you will join my kingdom. Perhaps it will be punishment enough to become what you hate, perhaps not. Perhaps I will speed up the process so you can’t hurt anyone else,” He snarled his hands beginning to glow with familiar green of his energy blast.

“Danny stop!” Superman said, hitting the burier to try and get through but not even he could break it. Danny didn’t seem to be responding to them though he was hesitating.

Batman was resigning himself to watching Phantom kill his once parents before Jason walked by him. Batman wasn’t usually taken by surprise, but he was shocked, and worried, both because he could see the green glow of pit madness through the eyes of his helmet, which was worrying, and because he walked through the burier keeping the rest of the heroes out like it was nothing.

He walked to Danny, taking his hand, there was a soft sizzle as the gathered green energy burned Jason’s hand without him even seeming to notice. He pulled Danny down to the ground from where he was floating, pulling the young hero into his arms. Danny let himself be pulled into Jason’s arms, the green energy fizzling out as he wrapped his own arms back around Jason’s waist, hiding against his chest. As the anger faded he slumped against Jason’s chest.

Just as the heroes were breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing Maddie went for the dropped gun. But she wasn’t fast enough as Jason drew his own pistol, the one with live ammo, and put a bullet in her head. Diana cried out in shock and Batman froze as blood and brain matter splattered over the watchtower floor and her body slumped. Before anyone could recover Jack followed, another shot executioner style and Batman had to turn away.

The watchtower was completely silent, enough so that he could hear Phantom’s soft sniffles as he cried into Jason’s chest. When Batman looked back Jason had holstered his gun and was just holding Danny Close. The green had faded enough from his eyes that it seemed safe, Batman approached warily and wasn’t surprised to find that the invisible burier was gone now that both the Fenton’s were dead.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said softly as he heard the approach, without emerging from his hiding place in Jason’s arms where he seemed to feel safe. “I wasn’t actually going to kill them, but I guess my want to, my emotions, were strong enough to make Jason respond. I didn’t mean to call you that way.” He looked up at Jason, his eyes green again though red rimmed from tears.

“It’s alright, I would have done it anyway,” Jason growled, holding Danny even tighter. “I’ve killed people for less, they deserved it.”

Batman took a deep breath forcing himself to keep his cool about his son’s constant flouting of his no killing rule, now was not the time to make Phantom feel worse. “Jason why don’t you take him down to one of the sitting rooms so he can calm down.” No doubt Phantom was reliving trauma, and grieving because even if he wanted them dead they had been his parents.

Jason nodded and scooped Danny into his arm who let out an indignant little squawk and insisted he could walk while making no attempt to actually get down. Jason ignored Danny’s performative complaints and kept the young hero’s head hidden against his chest so he wouldn’t have to see the corpses of his parents while Jason carried him out of the room.

Now, how best to deal with the aftermath of… all this. And later on he really would have to ask Danny and Jason what he’d meant by Jason responding to his energy, because it seemed like there might be something more to their relationship then just Danny calming Jason down and that was worrying to say the least.

Part 2: here

#danny phantom #maddie fenton #jack fenton #Maddie and Jack are bad parents #buried alive #tw gun violence #batman #superman #dc x dp #jason todd #can be read as dead on main #Danny got buried alive #full dead AU #Jason is Danny's thrawl but they're super chill about it

[vocesincaput]

HEADCANON: Izzy Hand

For post season 2 interactions where Izzy did in fact die and was brought back to life, he experiences severe nightmares (details under the cut).

(This can also be adapted to him experiencing the nightmares about almost dying or dying for a few minutes.)

When Buttons brought him back from the dead, Izzy had to claw himself out from the grave he had been buried in.

He has nightmares about this and dying every night but refuses to tell any of the crew about it. Even those he may be close to into certain threads.

#headcanon: izzy hands #about: izzy hands #muse: izzy hands #spoilers: ofmd #spoilers: ofmd s2 #non rp blogs do not interact #non rp blogs dni #non rp blogs will be blocked #non mutuals do not interact #buried alive tw #tw buried alive #tw: buried alive #death tw #tw death #tw: death #cw death #death cw #cw: death #tw death mention #tw: death mention #death mention tw #cw death mention #cw: death mention #death mention cw

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 2 ~ Bad to Worse

Hidden Depths AU

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW: buried alive, captivity, creepy/intimate whumper, lady whump, a tiny bit of forced to watch, mention of rape, restraints, knife whump

WC: 1962

A/N: *cough* so I wrote a chunk of this AU in advance, but it was all in Resh's POV. I thought... this next part might work better from Carr's POV. Well... during the rewrite, I... added another scene and never even made it to the part I was trying to rewrite in the first place. Whoops. Anyways, I think this is still pretty tame. We'll get to the good stuff shortly. :D

Carr 

When the tunnel collapsed, Resh shielded her from the worst of it. He had to still be conscious; otherwise, his dead weight, combined with the debris around them, would crush her. But he wasn’t responding to her, and Carr wondered how long it would be before he lost all strength. She wondered how he had the strength to keep from collapsing at all. Something had to have created a pocket of stability, but she couldn’t be bothered to think about it overly much. 

It was so dark. And quiet. Sure, there was the occasional sound of shifting soil as the earth continued to settle, but otherwise, there was nothing except her own harsh breathing. If it weren’t for Resh’s quiet breaths and the warmth of his body seeping into hers, she would’ve felt like she was stuck in some kind of void. 

It should’ve been comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone. Too bad the close proximity of another person without being able to see them was fucking with her head. 

Even though she knew it was Resh over her, knew he was safe, it was hard to keep the anxiety at bay. It certainly didn’t help matters to know that she was trapped. What awaited her was either a slow death by suffocation or an even slower, horrifically painful death at Marcus’ hands. And that was best case scenario. Worst case, he found out she was not the boy she’d been pretending to be. 

There was a hazy, distant thought that death probably wasn’t better than being raped, but her thoughts were becoming less coherent by the moment. Each breath was harder to draw, and Carr couldn’t tell if it was from her increasing panic or the decreasing air supply. 

Needing to anchor herself somehow, she reached up. Her hand encountered something hard and warm–Resh’s chest. There was a steady beat under her palm. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Her awareness narrowed to that sensation while she tried to match her breathing to the rhythm of his heart.   

Despite her efforts, she was beginning to get light-headed when she felt the earth beneath her push. Her breathing sped up, outpacing the rhythm of Resh’s heart. She dropped her hand. They were pulled through the earth for what felt like forever, and when they emerged, Carr recognized the room immediately, even though she’d only been there once. 

Chalky white limestone marred by rusty splotches. Marcus’ torture room. He’d brought them straight to his torture room. 

Resh pushed away, collapsing on the floor beside her. Carr immediately got to her feet, crouching beside his limp body. Looked like he’d finally passed out. 

Her eyes darted around while her heart thrummed in her chest. The room was empty. Why in the ever-burning fucking pits of despair was the room empty? 

Whatever. She needed to be quick. Looking down, she assessed Resh’s condition. Even unconscious, his brow was creased with pain. Had his magic done that to him? It was such a foreign concept, but one she couldn’t take the time to think about. He probably needed rest, but she tried to shake him awake anyway. 

“Resh, you need to wake up.” Nothing. She shook him harder. “Resh! Please!” She brushed back a dirt-laden curl to cup his cheek. He was always nuzzling into her hand every time she did that. But there was no response. Fuck, this was bad. 

Her breath hitched when she stood, but she forced down the stupid sob trying to escape and cautiously approached the iron-banded wooden door in front of her. There was no time for tears. 

But before she could reach for the handle, the door burst open. Carr jumped back, her heart in her throat. A shiver crawled down her spine when Marcus strode into the room with no less than six guards following behind him. Half the guards split off, heading toward Resh. 

Carr ran, positioning herself in front of him. “Don’t touch him.” She hoped the tremor in her voice wasn’t too obvious. 

Marcus crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands, now are you?” 

The guards didn’t pause, so neither did Carr. They had no accessible weapons they weren’t already holding. No one was carrying an edged weapon aside from Marcus, and to stand a chance, she would need a blade, not a fucking stick. Baton. Whatever. Carr made a beeline, intending to grab the dagger from the sheath at Marcus’ waist. What she would do against seven people with one relatively small dagger was beyond her, but she had to try. 

She dodged the guards coming for her and darted toward Marcus using every bit of speed she had left. Unfortunately, Marcus anticipated the move and managed to block her. Off balance, she careened away, only to be caught by one of the guards. 

“Where do you want him, my prince?” the guard asked. 

Marcus gestured, and the guard dragged Carr over to the wall on the right. The one covered in vines, where she had been held last time. 

No amount of kicking or twisting loosened the guard’s hold, and when they approached the wall, he threw her against it. The half-healed lash wounds on her back were still sensitive, and the impact sent pain splintering through her. It stunned her when she could least afford it. The vines reached out, ensnaring her within their grip. 

She watched helplessly while the other guards put Resh in chains at the back of the room. The way they positioned him was cruel–on his knees, his arms spread behind him, attached to the wall by a short length of chain. Unconscious, he couldn’t support himself, and when they released him, he sagged forward, shoulders straining. Carr prayed he would wake soon, before they dislocated. 

When they finished with Resh, the guards left the room. Marcus turned his attention to Carr, and she sucked in a breath. Her heart raced while her mind worked on overdrive. 

After everything, this was how she was going to die? Carr supposed she shouldn’t be surprised; life had fucked her over in every way since she’d been abandoned, left to the dubious mercy of the city streets when she was barely more than a baby. But she had never anticipated being tortured to death by what amounted to a spoiled rich kid. 

The thought stoked her temper. Fuck this. Carr lifted her chin when Marcus stopped in front of her. It felt a little like facing off with an asshole pack member. Fucking men were all the same, arrogant pieces of shit who thought they were better than everyone else. 

Well, there was the rare exception, like Resh. Her heart twisted painfully at the situation she had landed them in. She tried not to look at him, or even think about him. Not right now.    

Marcus raised an eyebrow and drew his dagger. He dragged his finger down the edge, almost like he was caressing it. Despite herself, Carr’s eyes flickered down to watch. The blade split his skin so smoothly she wouldn’t have been able to tell he’d cut himself if not for the blood that slowly beaded in a thin line. Her heart felt like a wild animal in her chest trying to get free, but she kept her expression impassive. Bored even. He reached out to wipe the small bit of blood he’d drawn across Carr’s shirt. 

“You look awfully cocky for someone who was found standing over a mutilated body less than a fortnight ago,” Marcus said, twirling the dagger in his hand. “Who then decided to run instead of waiting on my judgment. Although how a worthless piece of trash like yourself was granted a strong enough earth ability to break through my wards is beyond me.” 

Carr snorted. “Your judgment. What a fuckin’ joke.” 

Marcus slammed his hand into the wall by Carr’s head. She suppressed her flinch, just barely, but her skin crawled when Marcus leaned over her. Snarling, he pressed the tip of his dagger to her sternum. It easily pierced the thin cloth of her shirt, just as it pierced the skin beneath. The sharp burst of pain just served to piss her off. 

“This may come as a surprise to you,” she hissed in his face, “but it’s pretty typical for you upper-class noble fuckers to be unable t’keep your dicks where they belong. Think everything belongs t’you, even the fuckin’ gifts the Mother gives us.”    

She had no idea if that was truly why she had such a strong elemental ability, but it was as good a guess as any. 

The vines tightened around her body, squeezing until her breath emerged in a squeak. 

“You’re sadly mistaken if you think you can speak to me that way.” Marcus dug the dagger in deeper, until it scraped against bone. 

Carr shuddered, but the anger coursing through her overpowered the pain. “Fuck you. You’re nothin’ but a limp-dicked wank stain on society who shouldn’t be permitted to draw breath. You’re fucking lucky you had the fortune t’fall outta your mother’s royal cunt, otherwise, you’d’ve been put down like the rabid fuckin’ beast you are–” 

The punch to her gut knocked the air from her lungs, ending her tirade. Which was probably for the best. The stab wound on her chest stung as she struggled to make her lungs work again. 

It didn’t help that Marcus was all up in her space, his rage a palpable force. 

He yanked her head back. “You’ll fucking pay for that. Let’s see how cocky you are when your skin is hanging in strips from your bones.” 

The knife dug into her shoulder, beneath the vines holding her. Marcus dragged it diagonally across her chest, studying her face the entire time. 

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep from wincing. This slice felt deep, a line of fire across the top of her breast, through the stab wound over her sternum, across her ribs. She twitched,  her body trying to pull away from the source of the pain. Of course, he noted every reaction, and a satisfied gleam replaced the anger darkening his eyes when he stepped back.    

It was such a relief to have him away from her that Carr trembled, her breathing a bit ragged while he looked her over. Her exhaustion after her efforts to escape, combined with the pain and fear she was trying so hard to hide, was getting the better of her. 

A slight rattle caught her attention. She allowed herself a moment to check on Resh, who appeared to be stirring at last. Dread filled her; she did not want to watch him suffer again. 

Not that she had any chance of avoiding that, not anymore. She blinked away the moisture gathering in her eyes and turned her attention back to Marcus. Goosebumps rose along her arms when she noticed the strange look he was giving her.   

What was that look for? Carr tried to think, to anticipate what was to come, but the wound across her chest burned, distracting her. Her shirt had to be wet with blood; she could feel the edges of it sticking to her skin. 

She could feel the edges… 

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt, her mind fixating on that one detail. That feeling. The edges. The edges of… across her chest…  

Oh gods. 

She looked down, hoping she was wrong, but found exactly what she’d feared. There’d been no way for her to bind her chest in this prison. So, the gash in her shirt clearly exposed her breast. 

Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she slowly looked back up, afraid of what she would find. 

Marcus smirked. “Now what do we have here?” 

Next

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a sepia-colored version of the original blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths AU are written in white above the eyes. end ID]

#fantasy whump #magic whump #lady whump #whump #whump writing #original writing #original characters #alternate universe #hidden depths au #captivity tw #buried alive tw #creepy whumper #knife whump #restraints tw

[sylvanfreckles]

@whumptober-archive

Day Twenty-Six: You Look Awful

Summary

Don't move. Don't breathe. Don't sleep. Don't panic.

Dorian has gone missing. Cyrus, Opal, and Dariax are looking for him, but their leads are running thin and they may be running out of time. The only clue they have is "three miles east and two feet down".

#whumptober2023 #no.26 #you look awful #critical role #fic #campaign 3 #self-harm tw #pinching #spider tw #insect tw #buried alive tw

[crow-with-a-pencil]

Hi @naffeclipse I'm very normal about your fic. Have some frantic midnight sketches as extra kudos along with some tag rambling :)

#my ârt #crush depth #crush depth spoilers #fnaf #tw blood #tw drowning #idk how many others apply #anyways this is midnight crow coming out of the shadow realm to scream at you #first of all a cs ramble is on the way I'm still recovering from that fic too #im biting you naff im biting you so dang hard #I don't even know much about iron lung besides watching a play through but damn do you make me want to know more #just. where do I even start. the atmosphere is established so well and even though there was such a small space to work with I FELT it #I felt the claustrophobia I felt the walls and the console and the single dim lightbulb as my only solace in this death trap #the THOUGHTS #poor yn had so much time to just get lost in their head and spiral pretty much constantly #the dread. the constant overhanging dread of knowing there's a 99% chance they're not getting out of there alive and at this point #they just want to accept it and let it end bc there's hardly anything to go back to if they live #naff. look at me. reading some parts made my chest actually tighten with dread. it was so well done. #this poor human just buried in existential horror and just wanting it to end in a slightly less painful way #and the unknowable beings trapped outside who absolutely REFUSE to let that happen #god those eldritch fish were trying their hardest but just couldn't get in #yn was trapped inside while they were trapped outside and I just #I am EXPLODING the more I think about it #thinking about when they thought they were drowning and tried to breathe again #wanting to die but still having that instinct to survive #asking to be ripped apart but still cherishing their last breath of air #I'm shaking you I'm shaking you I'm dying on the floor #ough. #I'll never mentally recover from this and I want you to know I genuinely get inspired by your writing #this has been midnight crow ramblings. I just hit the tag limit. have a lovely night.