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drowxiv · 2 months ago

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WIP WEDNESDAY

I've agonized over this for like 6 hours. I tried to find the "least dark" thing that was in a shareable state. Every WIP I have is only a first draft.

Beneath the cut I've hidden: extremely light mention of spice. Light combat. Swords. One mention of a very small and superficial wound with zero descriptors.

I likely won't participate in this often but I've mentioned my writing enough in tags that I should probably share a snippet-

In the Underdark there was no sun to mark the passing of a day, only an eternal night flecked with the colorful lights of bioluminescence and magic. The Drow city was densely packed into a large cavern, with eight noble houses rising like giant stalagmites, reaching towards misty clouds that formed and fell in a never ending cycle. There were certain hours when activity dwindled and the world felt quiet and the magical glow dimmed, but it never went out.

During such an hour, when the off duty guards were in the barracks beginning to reverie, Viedyn took advantage of an empty training hall. As captain of the guard he was expected to be the best of them and he kept his skills honed accordingly. In the absence of a proper sparring partner at such an odd hour he put himself through a series of drills instead. He enjoyed the familiarity of the repetition and the weight of his sword and shield in hand. The air itself whined as his blade skillfully cut through it. He threw his power behind every practiced thrust and slash, relishing the way it made his muscles burn. The wicked black armor he wore moved fluently with his body, the metal plates sliding over one another smoothly while his long black velvet cloak whipped behind him.

The sound of footsteps that were not his own halted his sword mid air. He diverted the momentum into a flourish and brought the weapon to rest at his side, turning to see that two guards had entered the hall. His chest tightened when he realized they both wore the crimson cloak of the Matron's personal guard. Neither wore a red crested helmet or carried the large black spear they would've had if they were on duty, but that did little to ease his concern. He held no authority over them, they only answered to the Matron. They had their own training halls and barracks so there were few reasons for them to be in his, especially at that hour.

The shorter of the two guards was unfamiliar to him, but he instantly recognized the taller one as Savri. She was as powerful as she was cunning. Weeks prior, she’d ambushed him in a dark corridor, slamming his back into a wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him before he could even draw his sword. He'd been uncertain of her intentions until her lips graced the edge of his ear and she told him exactly what she wanted from him. Her words were only accentuated by the press of her hand against the armor between his legs, catching his breath in his throat. It had almost unraveled him.

Now, facing the prospect of dealing two armored Matron's guards, he wished it had.

Drow society placed heavy expectations on him, especially as a noble born male, to oblige such requests. But in a society which values power above all else, there was nothing more intimate or dangerous than relinquishing that power.

Savri's previous attempt to claim him ended with his sword against her throat and the point of her dagger nestled between his ribs just beneath the side buckle of his armor. Equally matched. They stood in the corridor, breathless, locked in a deadly embrace and traded barbs so closely that they could feel each other's breath with every word. If she'd closed the distance between them and sealed her lips against his, he would have surrendered. Instead, she vowed to take him and he'd smiled wickedly and invited her to try.

Power and pride bound them both.

Viedyn watched impassively as the unknown guard barred the door, making it clear that his invitation had been accepted. The two approached him side by side, each resting a hand upon the hilt of their sword. They had worn their hair up, Savri's in a neat braid and the other's in a low bun, which told him they anticipated a fight. Against two he would be at a severe disadvantage. The training hall was wide enough that they'd be able to maneuver around him easily. Even with his skills and training he wouldn't last long once they managed to flank him.

He rolled his shoulders beneath his armor as they approached and clicked his tongue condescendingly. “My disposition must really gall you if you're reducing yourself to relying on assistance to take me, Savri.”

A dark smile graced her sharp features. “On the contrary, Viedyn, I enjoy difficult males like you because it makes overpowering them more satisfying.”

“Enough that you're willing to share?” He teased.

“If it achieves my goal." Savri replied with a hint of annoyance seeping into her tone.

Viedyn inclined his head in a mockery of a bow. “I'm flattered you would make such a concession.”

“Then drop your weapon and surrender yourself, I would prefer to take you unscathed.”

“No.” He wasn't intrigued enough to obey. As the first son of his house and the Captain of the guard, his obedience wasn't given freely. He was, however, intrigued enough to stay even in the face of certain defeat.

“You're outmatched.”

“I am.” Viedyn admitted coolly, raising his shield and sliding his foot back into a ready position. “But I would be remiss if I deprived you of the challenge you enjoy.”

“Fine.”

Viedyn lunged before either of them drew, slamming his shield into Savri, sending her stumbling back and buying him a few precious seconds to focus on the guard she'd brought with her. She was shorter and slighter in build than him but she was still highly trained. He swung hard and she drew just in time to block his blade. Steel screeched against steel as he pressed the attack. He had her in an awkward position with her blade still angled downwards from the draw and her arms trembled beneath the effort to hold him off. Up close he was able to study her face, it was one he'd seen before but he had no name to match it. Her dark lips were drawn back in a fierce snarl which bared her teeth and her bright red eyes seethed. He couldn't tell if she wanted him, or if she simply wanted the satisfaction of laying him out. Given her position and his, both were strong possibilities.

Footsteps to his left drew his focus and he saw the attack in time to raise his shield. There was a satisfying clang of metal and he felt the power of the strike reverberate through his arm. In the same instant he hooked the other guard's ankle with his foot and yanked hard, sending her stumbling backwards, granting him the opportunity to throw his weight into shoving Savri back with his shield before she could strike again.

“I thought you wanted me unscathed, Savri.” Viedyn taunted as he took up a ready position once more. Raising his sword and shield defensively.

“I said I would prefer it.” She corrected him.

They closed in on him in unison, Savri aiming low while the other went high, playing to his disadvantage. Viedyn dropped to one knee, slamming the bottom of his tall kite shield into the ground as he did so, ducking easily beneath it to deprive Savri of a target while he raised his sword and caught the second attack on the downswing. He sprung to his feet and used the momentum to force them back once more. It wasn't something he would've tried on a battlefield. In the training hall it was just risky and unexpected enough to be advantageous once, he wouldn't get away with it a second time.

He could tell Savri was pulling her strikes to avoid maiming him. A deflection off the top of his shield which could've sliced his cheek open stopped short, and a brief opportunity to skewer his thigh went ignored. The other guard was far bolder and he had to watch himself more carefully when she went on the offensive.

Savri went low and he smirked even though he was forced to jump out of the way to avoid her. She was likely trying to bait him into taking his shield to the ground again. The second guard took advantage of his abrupt change in position and pressed another series of attacks. One sent his sword wide and he was forced to take another hit against his shield. When he dropped the shield to engage her third attack he realized he'd lost sight of Savri.

The sting of a sword nicking the back of his leg let him know exactly where she was, and that she wanted him to know where she was. Her subtle way of taunting him.

With renewed urgency he pressed his own attack against the second guard, driving her back with a powerful strike, buying himself precious time. He twisted and caught the glint of Savri's blade out of the corner of his eye. Out of instinct he raised his shield and the strike glanced off but he didn't have time to answer her with an attack of his own before he had to turn once more. They were wearing him down quickly and his muscles burned from the exertion.

The second guard was already charging when he turned and he ducked behind his shield just in time to catch her blade against the top of it. In desperation he threw his shield arm wide, forcing her blade to follow and slashed at the same time, sending her backpedaling. He started to turn and froze when he felt the cold kiss of a blade against his throat. His cold blue eyes instantly flicked to the wielder and Savri greeted him with a satisfied smile.

She had him.

He remained still, closing his eyes for one long steady breath. When he opened them again his right hand followed suit, allowing his sword to drop to the ground with a loud clatter, acknowledging his surrender.

“There, that wasn't so difficult.” Savri purred in a dark and condescending tone. The edge of her sword ghosted over his skin with careful precision, sending chills throughout his body as she lifted it to the underside of his chin and pressed upwards. With regal grace, he rose to his full height and lowered his shield to his side, never taking his eyes off her as he did so.

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captainadwen · 4 months ago

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Damian Wayne vs the World

Sixteen year old Damian Wayne is on the hunt for a younger sibling. Being more discerning than Bruce 'child collector' Wayne, Damian's firm criteria for Batman's latest adoption problem includes but is not limited to: black haired, blue-eyed, tolerable humor, not evil, and most importantly - younger than Damian.

Lucky for him, fourteen year old newbie vigilante Danny Fenton is the perfect fit. Now, to fulfill his end of their deal, Damian must defeat the evil government organization hunting Danny in order to gain a baby brother.

Or, @livinghalfway your post made my brain go !! but in such a different way I figured it was better to make a separate post, hope you don't mind/enjoy still

Damian Wayne re-entered Tim Drake's life like a gnat revealing itself in a closed bedroom space. Tim was in t-shirt and a boxers, maneuvering ramen into his mouth with one hand and scribbling out an epiphany on a murder case with another, when Damian's demonic dulcet voice echoed down from the ceiling. "Drake," said Damian, judgemental, "You live like this?"

Tim nearly choked on his ramen, because the day Damian doesn't attempt to murder him - however doubtfully accidental this incident might be - is the day Darkseid decides to be friends with the Justice League. "Fucking knock," Tim coughed out. "And get out. No one invited you in."

"Put better traps if you don't want me here," said Damian, dropping from the ceiling where he'd crawled in on wall-clamps.

"This is my apartment," said Tim. "It's called courtesy."

Damian sniffed. He padded around to Tim's desk and frowns at his cases, then said, with no further lead up, "I need your assistance."

"No," said Tim.

"You did not even listen to my request."

"Don't need to," said Tim. "Answer's still no. Door is that way. Bye."

"Father says mutually assisting each other is beneficial," said Damian.

"Father," said Tim sarcastically, "blamed me for you exploding a glitter bomb in the batcave two weeks ago."

"That is your fault for not being able to provide evidence to the contrary in an appropriately efficient manner," said Damian. He squinted down at Tim. "And he apologized. Eventually."

"I would not have glittered the batcomputer," said Tim. "Do you know how much of a pain in the ass it is to backup those servers? No, because you don't like tech work, you just profit off it."

"Blaming me for Father's mistake," said Damian, "Most mature of you. But we must put our differences aside. I have selected a new family member and I need you to dismantle a government organization."

That drew Tim up short. He blinked down at his ramen as though it might explain Damian's words to him, but the ramen remained disappointingly uninformative. "Repeat that," said Tim, gesturing with his chopsticks. "Slower, and with more detail."

Damian pulled out his phone and sent him an email. Silence surrounded them in the brief moment it took Tim to set aside his chopsticks and open the email. The subject line was titled 'New Baby Brother', which birthed all sorts of horrifying nightmares of Damian Part 2: Demon Child Boogaloo. The teen in the inserted picture, however, was reassuringly not in possession of Damian's bone structure.

He did have black hair and blue eyes. "Who am I looking at?" asked Tim.

"Daniel Fenton," said Damian. "He is fourteen years old, enjoys puns, and has recently awakened 'ghost powers' that allow him to transform into the vigilante Phantom to fight other ghosts."

"Is he also an orphan with a tragic backstory?"

"No," said Damian, and Tim relaxed. "But that will not be an issue. We can share custody if they cannot be removed from the picture."

"Jesus H, kid."

"I am joking, of course," said Damian blandly. "Murder is wrong."

"Ha ha," said Tim. "If he has parents already he's not joining our menagerie."

"He will," said Damian, with a smug upwards tilt of his lips. "He and I have a deal."

"So you're coercing him in addition to stalking him. Anything else you want to share with the class?"

Damian considered this query with a serious frown, which was how Tim knew this was not a flight of fancy or a very early midlife crisis (although with their lifestyle and Damian already having died before...).

"He has," said Damian after a moment, "a rogue that calls himself 'The Master of all Technology' and is a technopath." This was clearly meant to be of interest to Tim, and not to be a stereotype, but it kind of was.

"Great." Tim turned his attention back to the email the demon child sent him. He scanned through it quickly. There was apparently a secret and evil government organization dedicated to the investigation and extermination of 'ghosts' and other paranormal creatures in the world. Their latest efforts were focused on the town of Amity Park, Illinois, which was 'infested with ectoplasmic pests'. Their words, not Damian's. (It was specified in the email.)

"Okay," Tim drummed his fingers against his desk. "Before I help you defeat this secret evil government organization so that," he opened the email attachment with a contract on it and squinted at the legalese, "this poor newbie teen you've harassed into signing this joins the family in exchange."

"I did not harass him," Damian huffed. "It was a gentleman's agreement."

"Does he know that?"

"I am not a politician, Drake. I thoroughly explained the terms and legalities before presenting any contract. Now ask your question."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because," said Damian, tone implying 'you are stupid and haven't noticed something obvious, idiot'. "Father has begun saying he misses the noise around the manor and looking wistfully at old pictures."

"We still live there though?" said Tim. Damian looked flatly at him. "Sometimes."

"If you lived there frequently enough," said Damian, "you would already know Father is having...empty nest syndrome." Damian sounded disgusted. "I refuse to tolerate whatever inadequate and incompetent child he will find."

"So instead you found an incompetent and inadequate child for him?"

"Don't be stupid, Drake," said Damian. "I would not have chosen someone inadequate. Daniel is merely lacking formal training. Father can rectify this. It will keep him occupied for at least the next two to four years, which gives me enough time to find another black-haired, blue-eyed, tolerable child I approve of to be his successor and my second younger sibling." Damian paused. "Or until one of you procreates and gives him a grandchild."

"You're really serious about this," Tim whispered in horrified awe.

"I am serious about everything I do," said Damian. "Now, you will help me defeat this evil government organization so that our new sibling joins us."

"Okay," said Tim, but his mind snagged on a minor, throwaway detail, so utterly in odds with Damian 'Demonic Jealous Child' Al Ghul it surely came from another person - "Did you just call this kid your successor?"

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #no danny in this yet...#just damian and tim bc they amuse me #my writing #title is a reference to scott pilgrim vs the world bc like. damian isn't fighting 7 evil exes but he is fighting an evil govt. org #i shall add more hopefully... this idea amuses me a lot...#and then post it to ao3 once it is longer...#probably...#anyway the damian and danny conversation went loosely as follows:#Damian: vigilante ghost child. I have decided you are worthy of being my newest brother.#Danny: ... I'm flattered I guess? But I already have a family.#Damian: *begins outlining all the dumb stuff in Danny's life that would be improved by joining the batfam*#Damian: *realizes his strategy isn't working*#Damian:... i will dismantle the government org hunting you in exchange for your cooperation and joining my family #Danny: ?? whatever sure if you get rid of them I'll call you big bro #Damian: we shall get along well

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