#and i already wrote guy stumbles around lost in a cave in complete darkness so ofc it was a little more than that <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brutal-nemesis · 1 month

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E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

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Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today.

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started.

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now.

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then.

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly.

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out.

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what.

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine.

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground.

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so.

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew.

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit.

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness?

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like.

He had to get out of here.

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it.

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat.

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally.

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it.

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

@redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog

@whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump

@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet @pumpkinsncoffee @aryox

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #vorath #whump #whump writing #gore #heavy gore #nonhuman whumpee #sorry erebus you get that tag now #suck it #uh yeah so. hope you enjoyed.#i love Cave i am sad i couldnt describe how pretty it looks :( maybe another time #and i already wrote guy stumbles around lost in a cave in complete darkness so ofc it was a little more than that <3 #toss him into the mystery flesh pit!!#yeah i cant visit my favorite national park because its not REAL which is probably for the best ig 🙄#i will make erebus go into the meat tunnel instead and since he was very hungry he uh. mmmmmm yummy walls #gluttony demons taste super delicious to other gluttony demons so that is why he was having a gourmet experience #gluttony demons usually engage in nonfatal cannibalism if they encounter each other it is truly a lovely time #yeah i covered that man in blood he is the filthiest he's ever been probably hehe #maybe he will finally get to take a bath!!#sorry abt the cliffhanger BUT the next chapter has been mostly written for years so it shouldnt take me that long to get out #so hopefully yall wont be waiting for months lmao

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writingblock101 · 4 years

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Magic Touch (Dick Grayson x Reader)

Finally wrote for Nightwing. I can’t believe it took me this long. Anyways, I don’t know how I am writing this much, I keep getting random inspiration. If you have something in mind, send me a message and I’ll see what I can do. Enjoy!

Summary: After a bad fight with Deathstroke, all Nightwing wants to do is go to his apartment and be with you.

Word Count: 2,200

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish

Red Hood walks over to Nightwing and hauls him to his feet with an arm pulled over his shoulder.

“Come on, Wing, we’ve got to get you back to the Cave.”

“No,” Nightwing mumbles, stumbling over his own feet while his side bleeds profusely. “No Cave.”

“You’re going to bleed out--”

“No. Cave.”

Red rolls his eyes.

“You’re still arguing with Bruce, aren’t you?”

He’s silent, answering Red’s question.

“Of course you are. What did that moron say this time?”

“It’s not important,” Nightwing mumbles, leaning heavier on Red as dark spots danced in his vision. “Take me to Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Red asks. “Who the hell is that?”

“Y/N can help me,” Nightwing says then sprouts off an address before losing consciousness.

“Shit,” Red groans, pulling Nightwing over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “Fine, we’ll go to… Whoever the hell you’re talking about.”

. . .

You always wrote it off as healing fast or a strong immune system. It never struck you that your fast healing was actually a metahuman ability until you started dating Dick who made a habit of showing up at your apartment battered beyond belief.

At first, you thought he was being cheesy when he said cuddling with you always took the pain away until you both realized Dick was healing miraculously fast. After multiple experiments, you and Dick discovered that Dick was not miraculously healing by himself, but you were transferring the energy to him to heal him.

While the healing was not instantaneous, between your knowledge of medicine and your ability, you significantly speed up the process, so it wasn’t a huge shock when Red Hood knocked at your door with a bleeding, unconscious Nightwing thrown over his shoulder.

“Are you Y/N?” He asks.

“Um… Yeah,” You blink, opening the door further and allowing him inside. “What happened?”

Before Red could answer, Nightwing seemed to regain consciousness and caught sight of you.

“Y/N,” He mumbles, trying to worm his way out of Red Hood’s grip.

“Woah, Wing, hold on,” Red grumbles, carefully putting Nightwing on the ground but supporting his body weight.

Nightwing shrugs him off and stumbles over to you. Red tries to catch his arm so he wouldn’t tackle you, but Nightwing is faster and already has his arms around you, most of his body weight leaned against you.

“Wing! Don’t--”

“He’s okay,” You reassure Red Hood, staggering for a moment then shifting your feet to better hold up his body weight.

You wrap your arms more securely around Nightwing, running your fingers through his sweat and blood-soaked hair. He sighs in relief, his body relaxing under your touch as energy flows between you two. You feel a few broken ribs through his suit, placing your hand on his side and slowly starting to mend them back together, then your hand touches something wet. You look down to see your hand is covered in blood.

“Okay, let’s get you on the couch,” You say, Red coming over to help pull Nightwing off of you and settle him on the couch. “Can you get the top half of his suit off?” You ask, pushing Nightwing’s dark hair off his forehead. “I need to grab my supplies.”

You stand to grab your med kit when Nightwing’s hand catches your arm.

“No,” Nightwing mumbles in protest. “Stay.”

You roll your eyes with a fond sigh.

“You’re going to bleed out on my couch if I don’t stitch you up,” Then you lean forward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right back, Dick.”

While you gather your medical supplies, Red helps Dick out of the top half of his suit and takes his helmet off, figuring if you knew who Dick is, you probably knew who Red Hood is. You come back and start prepping the medical supplies. Jason holds his hand out to you.

“I’m Jason,” He introduces. “Dick’s brother.”

“Y/N,” You shake his hand then chuckle. “But I guess you already knew that.”

Jason shrugs while you frown at Dick’s side. You place a hand above the large gash, letting energy flow into Dick until his side stops bleeding then threaded your suture and begin stitching up his side.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Jason frowns. “Are you a meta?”

You shrug, still focused on stitching up Dick.

“Yeah, a little bit. Nothing instantaneous.”

While you stitched Dick up, you kept at least one hand on his chest, transferring energy to curve the pain. Dick mumbles something to you that you don’t catch.

“What did you say?” You pause, leaning toward Dick’s head to hear him.

“I said Deathstroke’s swords are sharp,” Dick mumbles.

You chuckle, pulling tight on one of the stitches.

“Yeah, babe. I’ve heard he’s known for that. I thought you and Slade were on good terms?”

Dick shrugs.

“I stopped him from completing a contract. He wasn’t happy.”

Once you finish stitching Dick up, you check him over for any other dire injuries. Other than his side, everything else is fairly manageable: a handful of broken ribs, bruising, and a few smaller lacerations.

“Alright, Dick, let’s get you in the shower so you can get all this blood off you,” You help him off the couch, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulder.

He kisses your temple as a silent thank you then you both move down the hall to get the shower started. While Dick sits on the toilet, carefully peeling off the rest of his suit, you start the shower and grab Dick some fresh clothes.

“Do you think you can shower?” You ask, running your fingers through Dick’s hair then cupping his cheeks.

He looks up at you with a smile.

“Yeah, but,” He pulls you closer to him by your belt loops. “It would be more efficient if you joined me,” Dick adds with a coy smile.

You shake your head with a grin, running your hands down his shoulders.

“Okay, first of all, shower sex wouldn’t be feasible right now because you have fifteen stitches in your side. Second of all, your brother is still standing in our living room.”

“I could be quiet, babe,” Dick promises with a wink and presses a kiss to your stomach. “Besides, your touch always makes me feel better. Doctor’s orders and all,” He slips his hands under your shirt.

“You’re ridiculous,” You tell him, then tilt his head up and kiss him. “Get in the shower, horndog. I’m going to go be a good host.”

Dick whines when you leave the bathroom, but you ignore him, rolling your eyes before walking back out to the living room where Jason is looking at various framed pictures.

“So, you guys are dating?” He asks, pointing at a picture of you and Dick.

Dick at his arms wrapped around you from behind and was kissing your neck while you laughed.

“Yep,” You nod. “Have been for a while now.”

“Huh…” Jason trails off. “I didn’t know Dick was seeing anyone.”

“We weren’t trying to keep it a secret, but with how swimmingly the whole family dynamic thing is going right now,” You gesture vaguely to the air. “News about our relationship went on the backburner.”

“Yeah,” Jason chuckles. “It’s never easy.”

“Siblings,” You roll your eyes, then walk to your kitchen. “Do you want anything to eat or drink? Maybe a sandwich?”

“Yeah, a sandwich would be great,” Jason sits down at the island while you get out bread, ham, cheese, and mayo. “So… How did you two meet?”

“Dick crashed through my window,” You point at the french doors that led to a Juliet balcony in your living room. “Or, well, Nightwing I guess. Anyways, in very Dick Grayson fashion, of course, once the threat was apprehended, he started flirting and got my number to “fix the window”,” You smile, thinking about the cheesy lines Dick fed you. “We’ve been dating for a little over a year now,” You hand Jason the sandwich.

He takes a large bite and chews for a minute before opening his mouth and asking:

“So… the meta thing… You can heal?”

“I can… Speed up the process,” You explain. “I can’t instantly make things heal, but I can do little things, like stop the bleeding and lessen pain. Over time, I can heal broken bones, so I’ll be able to heal Dick’s ribs over the next day or two.”

“Where did it come from?”

You shrug.

“Dunno. Honestly, I didn’t know I could do it until I started dating Dick because I don’t get injured as much as him.”

“Do you think you could um…” Jason shifts and grimaces as his body tweaks.

“Oh!” Duh, of course, Jason probably sustained some injuries given Dick’s stab wound.

You quickly round the island and place a hand on Jason’s side, feeling his broken ribs shift. Jason sighs with relief, pain melting out of him.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding,” He chuckles.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting better at it,” You tell him. “I don’t know if you have somewhere to go tonight, I know you don’t live in Bludhaven, but if you want to spend the night here, you’re more than welcome. We have an extra bed and bathroom and I’m sure I can dig up some clothes that will fit you.”

Jason quirks an eyebrow.

“How do you know I don’t live in Bludhaven?”

“Dick talks about you guys a lot. I’ve heard about all of you.”

Jason nods, not saying anything. You don’t pry for him to respond. Whatever issues Jason has with Dick or vice versa is not any of your business.

“I think it would be better for you to stay the night,” You nod your head toward Jason’s ribs. “At least let these heal a little.”

“Yeah, I probably will then,” He nods reluctantly.

“The guest bedroom is to the left and the bathroom is across the hall. The towels are clean, and I’ll bring you fresh clothes.”

Jason stands up and grabs his helmet off the coffee table, then turns back to you.

“Thanks… for all of this,” He gestures to the room.

“Of course,” You smile then he disappears around the corner and you go to yours and Dick’s room to dig up a pair of sweatpants Dick defiantly stole from Jason and an old t-shirt that has always been too big on you.

After dropping off the clothes in the guest bedroom, you poke your head in your bathroom to find Dick brushing his teeth with a towel wrapped around his waist. You frown at the deep bruising across his chest and step into the bathroom, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his back.

“Everything okay with Jason?” Dick asks, toothbrush half hanging out of his mouth.

“Yeah, he’s staying the night.”

Dick spits in the sink, his eyebrows raised.

“How did you manage to pull that one off?”

“I partially healed his ribs,” You slide your hands up Dick’s chest, resting them over the deep bruising on his sides, transferring energy over to him.

Dick chuckles, turning so that he’s leaning against the counter, his hands on your hips.

“That’s what always gets them,” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, still holding your hands over Dick’s ribs.

“I’m okay,” He pulls you into a close hug. “Especially now that I’m with you,” He quips and kisses the top of your head.

You lean against him, running your fingers up and down his back.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” You admit into his chest.

While Dick is a very skilled fighter and careful out in the field, his tendency to prioritize others over his own life always sends him home battered. Some nights were closer calls than others. Given the amount of blood Dick lost on the way to the apartment, tonight was one of those scary nights.

“Hey,” Dick tilted your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll always come home to you.”

“I know,” You smile and you believe him. “I just worry.”

You know Dick will always come home to you, but you still can’t help but worry. He leans in and kisses you deeply, running his hands up your sides before breaking away and pulling your hands off him, forcing you to stop healing him. He presses a kiss to both of your hands.

“I’m okay,” Dick promises.

“Let’s go to bed,” You pull him into the bedroom and toss on one of his shirts.

Dick changes into boxers then crawls into bed, laying on your chest. You kiss the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair and down his back, watching as the muscles relax under your touch. You send an extra surge of energy into Dick, easing the pain away enough for his eyes to flutter shut.

While Dick claims to be okay, you know he has the tendency to hide his pain from you, but it’s okay because you’re always there to help him. As long as by the end of the night, you’re able to hold him, you’re okay.

You look down at Dick fondly, running your fingers through his hair before kissing his head again and whispering:

“I love you.”

You feel his arms tighten around you then you drift off.

I really like Deathstroke, he’s a cool villain. Also, if you want to be added or removed from my tag list, send me a message! And like I said at the top, if you have a request, hit me up. Until then, I’ll just be writing whatever random inspiration I get.

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volturialice · 4 years

Photo

twilight quarantine ficathon 2020

I’m late but here’s a thing I wrote

oneshot, 1.7k words

prompt

warnings: graphic violence, blood, minor character death

rating: T

pairings: gen

the mission

“You know your orders. Get in, get the girl, get out.”

Headlights flicker past the opening of the tunnel, making everyone’s shadows crawl over the walls, lengthened and distorted.

Riley keeps talking. “Kill whoever’s with her, but don’t get distracted. The girl is priority #1. Whoever brings her back alive will be rewarded.”

Bree can’t help but think all this “reward” talk would probably be more effective if they hadn’t just gorged themselves on half of Seattle’s homeless population. Whoever this human is, Riley is taking no chances that one of them will slip up and kill her.

He surveys the six of them, lined up like a squad of superheroes in a movie. Too bad the Spiderman kid wasn’t picked to come on this mission.

“Any questions?”

Kristie raises her hand like they’re in kindergarten. “What kind of reward?”

Typical. Of course that’s all these morons can think about, even with their eyes practically glowing with the blood of a fresh kill.

“That’s for her to reveal. Trust me, you won’t wanna miss out on this one.”

Translation: Riley doesn’t know. Bree was ready to ignore all the reward stuff and just focus on staying out of everyone else’s way long enough to survive, but now she can’t help but wonder what the reward is. Maybe it’s some type of special, super-mega-delicious blood, blood like they’ve never smelled before. Bree wouldn’t care, so long as she could feed alone. That would be the best reward—to be able to lose herself in the taste, the exhilarating red rush, without having to protect her back.

Why did Riley pick Bree to come on this mission in the first place? She’s half the size of the others. She thought she’d been doing a good job making herself invisible, acting meek and pathetic enough to be overlooked, hiding behind Freaky Fred night after night. It’s hard to miss Fred, exactly, but Bree wishes like hell he were on this mission with her. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so exposed, like she’s walking into a trap.

It makes her uneasy, not knowing the whole story. What’s the deal with this mysterious girl, and why do they need her alive?

Screw it.

“What’s so special about this girl? Why does…she want her alive?”

Riley pins Bree under a Look, like she’s the last person he expected to question him. Shit, she’s got his full attention now. So much for flying under the radar.

“I didn’t ask. We don’t question orders from her,” he says, a warning. “But if you want my best guess…I think she wants to change the girl. For her to join us.”

A groan goes up from the others. Another “soldier” means more competition for blood.

Idiots. Didn’t they notice how Riley avoided answering the first question? Since when does he go to all this trouble to change one lousy human? Riley recruits delinquents, addicts, desperate pickpockets and starving runaways—easy prey. He doesn’t bother with anyone who can’t be lured into a dark alley by the promise of a cheeseburger.

“All right,” says Riley, marshaling the troops now. “We all know the mission. I handpicked each and every one of you because I know you’re the best ones for this job.”

Bree catches Raoul side-eyeing her. Yeah, she doesn’t know why she’s here either. Riley fixes each of them in turn with a serious-business look as he talks.

“This is your chance to prove yourselves. I know you won’t let me down. After we pull this off, it’ll be unlimited blood for each of you. Now it’s go time. Get into position and wait for my signal.”

The others take off down the tunnel, already frothing at mouth at the mention of unlimited blood. Bree moves to follow when she’s cut off by a sharp command:

“Not you, Bree. Hang back a minute. I have a very special task for you.”

Nearly 1 AM. The smeared reflections of neon lights on wet pavement. The cinema is in a run-down part of town, its marquee lit up in garish reds and greens, advertising Face Punch 2: Knuckle Sandwich and Love Spelled Backwards is Still ‘Love.’ Whoever put the letters up ran out of E’s, so that it actually reads “Love Spelled Backwards is Still Lovc.”

The street is deserted—shuttered bodegas, a darkened McDonald’s, an empty pawn shop next to what looks like some kind of loan shark office. Missing posters flutter on a telephone pole—nobody Bree recognizes. Some unfortunate meal, most likely.

There’s a burst of sound as the cinema door swings open and two humans stumble out of the brightly lit lobby. Teenagers, not much older than Bree.

She zeroes in on the girl—white, brunette, and dark-eyed, totally average-looking. Whatever makes her special, it sure as hell isn’t visible to the naked eye. Does she have some sort of weird gift, like Freaky Fred? That has to be it. Why else go to all this trouble to kidnap and change her?

There’s a guy, too, but he doesn’t matter. His heartbeats are numbered.

Bree’s eyes find Riley, silhouetted on the roof, a shadowy figure looming above the marquee like a gargoyle. He gives her a single nod. Showtime.

Bree is across the street from the cinema, in the mouth of an alley that smells like piss and rotten garbage. At Riley’s signal, she heaves a pitiful sob.

“Whoa,” says the guy. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

God, humans are useless. Bree sobs louder, hunched forward in a pathetic ball. She tries to remember what it felt like to cry for real—her face hot and wet, pressure building in her head, heaving the air from her lungs until her chest felt raw. The only constant now is the burning in her throat.

“Oh shit, it’s a kid.”

With her hair falling into her face, Bree knows she looks even younger than her real age. She hears the human take a step toward her, pulling his companion with him.

Bree tries out a fake sniffle. It earns her a few more steps—the guy’s. The girl is hanging back, hesitant, poised on the edge of the curb.

“I don’t know…”

Bree can practically hear Riley’s voice in her head: focus! You know what’s at stake here!

She heaves her most heartrending sob yet, a quavering, abject sound that makes her hate herself a little.

“Come on, it’s just a kid. Are we supposed to leave a crying kid out here?”

That’s right. Take the bait.

The girl heaves a sigh and steps off the curb. Still hidden under her hair, Bree hears rather than sees the humans approach.

“Hey there. Are you ok?”

Bree looks up at the guy, watches his eyes widen as they scan over her face. What is he seeing? She remembers how Riley looked to her that fateful day with the cheeseburger—movie-star hot, like unreal hot. She had thought to herself, no one should be that beautiful—that it was unfair. Maybe she’d jinxed herself.

Now she gets to her feet, slowly, clumsily. She swipes roughly at her eyes—shit, did the human notice their color?—dashing away imaginary tears. “I’m lost,” she says, letting her voice hitch just a little. “I…I was walking home and my phone died.”

The girl is still hanging back, peering at Bree over the guy’s shoulder. Not good enough. Bree takes a step backward, into the alley. “I’m sorry. I’m—I’m fine.” She shrinks away from the Big Scary Human Male.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” says the girl, stepping around him. She holds out her hands so Bree can see she’s not a threat. Closer…closer…at this distance the girl’s warm scent hits her like a wave, making her throat burn even though she’s just fed.

Alive, alive. Bring her in alive. The back of Bree’s neck prickles under the weight of six hidden, red-eyed gazes. It was stupid to make seven vampires compete for one human girl and expect her to come out unscathed. They’re gonna tear her apart the second Bree makes a move.

Unless she makes a different move. It’s a complete contradiction of her orders, but maybe there’s a better plan here. Maybe she can have her cake and eat it, too.

Faster than the humans can see, Bree darts out—don’t breathe, don’t think, just do it—and rips.

The guy hasn’t even had time to feel her nails tearing out his throat before she’s tossed him behind her, into the alley.

Shocked silence—then the human girl’s high, piercing scream as five many-limbed shadows erupt from their hiding places to descend on her companion. The guy can only manage a pathetic, choking gurgle.

The scream cuts off as Bree claps a bloody hand over the girl’s face—gently, gently, don’t cave it in—and yanks her around the corner.

Guttural snarls erupt in the alley, drowning out the wet tearing sound—an arm?—and the clatter of stone limbs on pavement, on each other, amid the biting, ripping frenzy.

Riley appears at Bree’s shoulder and she almost snarls at him—back off—my prey—no, not prey. Still holding her breath, she shoves the girl into Riley’s arms.

“Well, well,” muses Riley, lip curled the slightest bit as he inspects his quarry. “That was unexpected. Not quite what I had in mind, but you’ve done well. I’ll be sure to let her know who’s responsible for this victory.”

Thank fuck, it worked. He’s not angry. Bree almost lets out the breath she’s been holding, until a sickening crunch from the alley reminds her not to.

The human girl is shaking like a leaf, hyperventilating. “Wh—what’s—I—I don’t—please—”

“Sshhhhh,” soothes Riley. “Don’t worry. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Riley grins over her shoulder at Bree, like they’re sharing a joke, and Bree finds her own lips curving up in response. Victory, he’d said. The reward is all hers.

The girl blinks up at him. Beneath the shock and terror, something flares in her face—recognition.

“R…Riley? Riley Biers?”

Riley’s grin widens.

“Hello, Jessica,” he says. “Long time no see.”

#goldeneyedgirl #twificathon2020 #bree tanner #riley biers #twilight fanfiction #graphic violence //#minor character death //#blood //#fic: mine #apparently i can only write horror! enjoy #2020 ficathon

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