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bamber344 · 5 months ago

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Prologue - Birth

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Finally going through with my promise to actually write this superhero living weapon whump story. Updates will probably be pretty slow and sporadic as finishing draft 1 of my book is my current priority, but once that's done i'll definitely focus on this during the downtime before editing starts. Also the series itself doesn't have an actual name yet but shhhhh i'm working on it

it's in 1st person pov for the main character as i felt her perspective would be more interesting from that pov. Other character povs will likely be 3rd person when we get to those.

this is just a prologue to get you situated in so it's pretty short but i hope it gets you excited for what's to come! let me know what you think! story begins below the cut.

CWs: Medical whump (technically), female whumpee, non-sexual nudity, confused whumpee, male whumper, blood mention, manipulation of a vulnerable person, living weapon whumpee, mysterious medical procedures, language barrier

The first thing I remember feeling was warm. It was all-encompassing, surrounding and pressing in on me. I was completely weightless, floating around in some infinite black void. Nothing existed but myself and the warmth, gently cradling me, lulling me to sleep. I let it take hold, and sank into the emptiness.

—

I opened my eyes for the first time, and discovered that the universe was Green. Like the warmth, it was all around me, clinging to my skin, suspending me in itself. There were shadows, flickering about somewhere deeper in, moving back and forth, tempting me. I wanted to go to them, but movement eluded me, and all I could do was reach out, uselessly grasping at the Green. It was then, with my arm stretched out in front of me, that I saw myself for the first time.

My bones were small, and my skin was translucent.

That didn’t seem right.

Something inside of me started thumping quickly. I heard my very first sound; a shrill, high-pitched beep, piercing through the Green in time with the thumping. The shadows began moving quickly. Something was wrong. Something was wrong! I needed to escape! Get out! Get out get out get out get out getoutgetoutgetoutgetout get out get… out…

Calmness washed over me. My eyelids grew heavy. I closed them, shutting out the Green and returning to the dark.

—

COLD.

The Green was gone, replaced by blinding White. The warmth was a distant memory, torn apart by an all-encompassing cold biting my skin, now opaque as it always should’ve been. My whole body shivered and a terrible pain lit up inside of me, my limbs flailing limply against the hard surface I was pressed up against. I convulsed, and Green spilled out of my mouth, making way in my lungs for my very first breath.

Air rushed in through my throat and filled my chest. It still wasn’t quite enough, though. Another few coughs and it seemed like most of the Green had been expelled, leaving me panting and gasping for more precious oxygen, now that room had been made. It made me feel Awake. It made me feel Alive. It gave me the strength to lift myself to a seated position, curiously interacting with the way this new Universe worked outside of the Green. I was no longer suspended; I had to use my body to move, and to do that, I needed to learn how things worked.

The blurriness in my eyes cleared, and I discovered that the Universe was not entirely White, either. Yes, the White was abundant, but there were exceptions to it, like the things standing around me, observing. They had bodies of a similar shape to mine, with two legs and two arms and a torso and a head, but where my skin was bare and visible, most of theirs was obscured by more White, soft-looking wrappings and covers. They held things in their hands, and were making noises with their mouths, but none of it meant anything to me, so I moved on.

Something unexpectedly touched my shoulder and I spun, sweeping my arm out in alarm. There was a flash of Black and a splattering of Red and suddenly all of the things around me were screaming. I scrambled backwards as best I could, pushing and kicking my limbs off of the slippery floor to move myself away. The things moved away from me as well. That was good. I decided I didn’t like them.

My back hit a wall and I curled up, ready to lash out at any more of the White things with the Black that came out of my arm. It was still there, staining my usually tan skin from my hand to my elbow, with a tendril hanging from my wrist. I focused, and the tendril disappeared into smoke along with the remaining Black. Curious.

Enraptured as I was by my own strange ability to cover my hands in Black, I failed to notice the new figure approaching until they were right in front of me. My first instinct was to fight, to get the strange thing away from me, but when I looked upon them my body was filled with a strange sense of calm. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I knew that above all else, the thing in front of me was safe.

Their pale body was hidden by a blocky, navy blue covering, and their face was covered in wrinkles and divots. They reached out, cradling my cheek with a warm, calloused hand. I leaned into it, filled with an overwhelming feeling of safety. This was where the warmth I was missing was, ever since I left the Green.

The thing was making noises at me. I couldn’t understand them, but they didn’t seem to mind. They put a hand to their chest and repeated a specific noise, over and over. They sounded it slowly, making exaggerated movements with their mouth. Their teeth on their bottom lip; an open exclamation; their tongue between their teeth; and another, slightly less open exclamation. Compelled by my curiosity, I attempted to repeat it.

“Fffff…” I tried. “Fah…” My voice was raspy and weak in its first use. My tongue was thick and unresponsive. The movements of the thing were difficult to replicate, but they were patient as I practised, getting the hang of it. “Fah…ther. Father. Father!”

The thing smiled, and it was the greatest sight of my short existence. At that point I knew that I would do absolutely anything if it meant getting to see that smile directed at me again.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star

Hope it wasn't too confusing! Obviously the protagonist currently doesn't really know what's going on at all, so I tried to translate that feeling through the prose. It won't usually be like that, so dw if you weren't feeling it. feel free to ask for clarification tho! Happy to answer any questions that don't spoil anything

feel free to reblog ;) it helps a lot!

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump series #oc whump #living weapon whump #superhero whump #female whumpee #medical whump #creative writing #writeblr #writing #project genesis whump series

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bamber344 · 20 days ago

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Birds Of A Feather

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time for birb :)

got this one done quickly as I'd already written like a thousand words of it before i started writing that Viv chapter, so the groundwork was already laid

usually i would upload this in the morning (for me) but rn i can't be bothered to deal with all the faffing about so you're getting it now. wahoo yippee ect ect

side note, project genesis document is now at 100 pages including the taglist and all of my rambling notes, so that's pretty cool.

enjoy!

CWs: general violence, cigarette use, gun violence, knife violence. just a whole lot of action typical violence really.

Birds Of A Feather

The woman sighed, looking out over the city as the wind whipped through her hair. She brought the cigarette up to her lips and took a long drag, admiring the pink and orange sky coloured by the slowly setting sun. Say what you would about Tombguard; it was truly a beautiful place, if you knew where to look. Granted, the woman had never actually been outside of the city, so she didn’t have much frame of reference. Still, after spending the first nine months of her existence locked in an underground prison, the sight of any space big enough to spread her wings in was enough to bring a tear to her eye.

Things weren’t perfect, though. She was never completely safe from Andreas’ pursuit, and that wasn’t helped by the fact that she was actively antagonising him. Still, he’d be hunting her even if she didn’t fuck him over at every possible opportunity, so it was justified. That dickhead deserved everything she threw at him.

A dark figure flickered across the rooftop of the building opposite. The woman sighed again, taking one last puff to finish her cigarette and shaking her wings out. She didn’t want to have to do this, but it was the only way to keep herself and Hex safe. There was no doubt in her mind that Andreas had already told Jordyn to kill her on sight, even before she made a mess of the first assassination attempt. In an ideal world, they could leave each other alone and Jordyn could go on her merry, naïve way being ordered around by her ‘father,’ but that just wasn’t reality. It was kill or be killed, and the woman refused to let Andreas continue to have a hold on her life. Jordyn had to die for the two of them to live.

She cracked her neck and double-checked that her pistols were fully loaded before re-holstering them on her hips. She made sure her knives were secured against her thighs. The target was in sight. She pulled the mask over her face and stomped her cigarette out on the floor.

“Sorry, little sister. I’m not gonna miss this time.”

With that, she flapped her wings and took flight.

—

Something was wrong.

The afternoon was calm, and up until a few minutes ago, I’d been enjoying my time relaxing on the rooftops as the end to my patrol grew closer. As per usual, I’d been lounging on the edge of a building, watching all the people and traffic go by, but when I got up to make my way back to the facility, I was immediately hit with the sensation that something wasn’t right. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I had to resist the urge to look over my shoulder as I ran from building to building.

I knew that feeling all too well. I was being watched.

I slowed down, landing on a rooftop and surveying my surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and as far as I could see, there wasn’t anyone around that was paying any attention to me. That didn’t mean I was safe, though. For all I knew, this was another one of the Godling’s attempts to get in my head. The pain that would usually accompany that hadn’t hit yet, but still. I needed to be on my guard, just in case.

A memory flashed through my mind; one of discarded feathers, and a suspect flying away after shooting me down.

I looked up.

All I could make out was a beak-shaped mask before my instincts kicked in and I flung myself backwards, out of the way of the hammer kick coming straight for my head. It cracked the concrete as it made contact with the floor.

I fell into a roll before hopping back to my feet, dropping into a fighting stance as I analysed my opponent. Based on their figure, they were most likely a woman, dressed in a tank top and some baggy combat pants, along with a heavy-looking pair of boots. Her arms were thick with corded muscle, her tan skin nicked with countless tiny scars. A large pair of black wings flared out behind her back, spread to show off their intimidatingly huge wingspan. Behind her bird-like mask, dark, thick hair cascaded down over her shoulders. She was about the same height as me, with a similar build, and based on the way that she dropped into an identical stance to my own, she knew how to use it. This would be no easy fight.

Kill the black-winged one on sight should you see it.

Father’s months-old command pierced through my mind like an arrow. Whoever this woman was, he wanted her dead, and I had a duty to see that order through. After all, she shot me. It was completely justified. She had to die.

A large part of my mind protested against the thought, but I pushed it down. I knew Father was watching. I couldn’t fail him again. I wouldn’t fail him again. Better to get it done quickly.

I whipped my hand forward, and a spike of shadow extended from the seams of my armour, heading straight for the gap between the woman’s fourth and fifth rib. It would be over for her in an instant. Painless, for the most part. It was better this way. My gut clenched as time seemed to move in slow motion, waiting for the countdown towards the woman’s demise to hit zero.

All of a sudden, she was moving, quicker than I could possibly have anticipated. She deftly stepped to the side, dodging the spike by millimetres, and flapped her wings, using the upward force to lift herself into a frontflip over my head. I spun as she landed and ducked my head to dodge another kick. The woman pirouetted as she backed up, pulling combat knives from the straps around her thighs. There was a single moment of tense stillness before she came at me again, stabbing and spinning back and forth with those knives aimed right for the unprotected spots of my armour like she knew exactly where they all were.

She had me on the ropes, backing up as I dodged this way and that, deflecting knives with my shadows when they came too close. I was far too focused on staying out of the way of her attacks to even think about focusing the darkness in my armour into any sort of attack. Maybe if it was nighttime, and I had shadows all around me to call on, I could put her down. As it was, I’d just have to do without the full use of my power.

I grabbed her wrist as she came in for another attack and twisted, pulling her over my shoulder and aiming to slam her onto the ground. She was surprisingly heavy at first, but that quickly changed as a rush of wind hit my ears and the woman’s weight shifted behind my back. She moved with my throw, twisting in the air as she came back into view and wrapping her legs around my neck. Her movement stopped as she hit the ground with her other hand, and suddenly I felt myself lift off the ground as the woman pulled a reversal, throwing me over herself and slamming me onto the concrete with enough force to rattle my bones even through all of my armour.

In my daze, I could just about make out the woman flipping back onto her feet and rounding on me once again. Something glinted in the light of the setting sun, and my instincts kicked back in just in time to roll out of the way of the knife coming straight for my face.

It snapped as it hit the ground where my head had just been, and the woman’s fist followed through hard enough to leave another cracked dent in the concrete. Just what was this woman made of?!

I threw myself back onto my feet and conjured a whip of shadow before she could get close enough to stop me. She lifted herself, discarding the now-useless hilt as she settled back into her stance. Her head cocked to the side, and my stomach dropped as my own voice came out from behind her mask.

“Well shit, Jordyn. I thought you’d be a pushover, but you’re not half bad. Still not as good as me, though.”

My shadows flared in alarm. “How do you know my name?”

The woman didn’t reply. Instead, her arm disappeared, moving faster than I could process, and reappeared with a pistol. She pulled the trigger once, twice, three times, and I stumbled back as each shot hit me in the chestplate and knocked more and more air out of my lungs. My shadow whip turned to dust as my concentration dropped from the sudden attack.

The woman didn’t waste her opportunity, flapping her wings to kick herself off and charging at me. She spun, and the last reserves of oxygen were expelled from my body as her steel-toed boot hit my side with the force of a train.

The hit sent me flying, flipping head over heels in the air as I flew over the edge of the building we were on and onto the roof of another. I landed in a sprawling roll, desperately trying to regain control of my body and my lungs while fighting through the pain of a few definitely broken ribs. Eventually, I managed to jab a spike of shadow in the ground to stop my momentum and centre myself. I tensed my abs, sucking in as much breath as I could as I got back to my feet. There was no time to process, though. She was coming at me again.

All I caught as I looked up was a flash of wings before something hit me in the face and I was sent flying again; this time, with a brand new scrape in the viewscreen of my visor. I refused to let the hit stun me again, forcing my body into a flip that landed me back on my feet. She wasn’t the only one with a good core.

I quickly glanced around, trying to ascertain where she went. She wasn’t hard to find now that I knew where to look; swooping through the sky, gliding her way around for another hit. She lined herself up and began her dive, speeding towards me faster and faster; one knife in hand. She wasn’t going to get the drop on me again, though.

I stanced up, amassing my shadows beneath my armour, fortifying my body as she came closer and closer. This might be the only chance I had left to get out of this. I had to time it right.

There.

I dropped and spun right at the moment of impact, sending my boot launching up into her gut like a piston, powered artificially by my shadows and strengthened by her own speed. Darkness shot out of my armour as I made contact, following the hit through with dozens of tiny blades that cut into her stomach and pierced through her skin.

The woman let out a gagging cry as she flew away, crashing into the side of a building with a burst of feathers and falling into the alley between. Relief washed over me. It had worked; for now, I was safe.

I knew better than to think it was over just like that. The woman was far too strong and clearly far too hell-bent on my death to be turned off just from one attack. I got lucky with that one; there was no way I’d be able to land a hit like that two times in a row, and it was becoming obvious that, as things were, I was outmatched. What I needed was a plan.

I turned to the west, looking at the setting sun. Its light was the only reason I wasn’t able to unleash the full strength of my power. Even if I ducked into an alley, the woman would probably have no trouble corralling me back onto a street, directly in the sunlight. What I needed was the complete darkness of night. I needed time. I turned to the east and I ran.

Adrenaline still coursed through my bloodstream, providing me with the strength needed to ignore my pain as I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, pulling myself along with shadowy tendrils where necessary. Only a few more minutes until sunset. I could make it.

Sure enough, I heard the beating of the woman’s wings against the air behind me, steadily growing closer. I knew my counterattack wouldn’t hold her back for long, but I was hoping to get a full minute out of it, at least. Oh well, there was nothing for it. I’d just have to evade her until the sun went down. Easier said than done, but I would manage. I had to.

More gunshots cracked off behind me. The impact against my back threatened to throw me off balance, but I stabilised, spinning mid-sprint and flinging spears of shadow at her to hopefully keep her at bay. I could hear her swooping back and forth and I zig-zagged in turn, trying to keep my movements unpredictable.

The hair at the back of my neck rose and I instinctively dove to the ground - just in time for the woman to blur through the space I’d just been in, crashing onto the rooftop just in front of me. We both jumped to our feet, but I was just a millisecond behind her, and she used that time to launch a powerful roundhouse kick right into my cheekbone.

My head whipped to the side, and everything around me suddenly clicked into high focus. The scratch in my vision was gone. I could feel the cool air on my face and in my sweat-soaked hair. The sounds of the city became loud and sharp; no longer muted by my helmet’s audio processors.

Oh, that was it. My helmet just came off.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as I watched it spiral through the air, flying over the edge of the building and falling into the alleyway, disappearing from sight. Father was going to be so mad with me.

Time sped back up and suddenly I was moving; flying across the rooftop as the hit knocked me off my feet. I landed in a sprawling heap, tumbling over myself before managing to roll onto my back, staring up at the sky. My vision spun as pain throbbed through my skull, and my neck angrily protested any attempt to turn my head and spit out the bloody taste of whatever had come loose in my mouth. By the feel of it, it was probably a tooth.

The woman appeared in my line of sight before I could recover, planting one boot on my chest and aiming her pistol straight at my face. My heart leapt into my throat.

She wheezed, clutching at her bloody abdomen with her other hand. “That… was a nice fuckin’ hit you got earlier. You’re pretty good, Jordyn.” She straightened out, putting her finger on the trigger. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, little sis.”

“W-wait!” I pleaded. All I needed were a few more moments. This wasn’t the end. “Wait, please… Who… who are you?”

The woman hesitated. A few tense seconds passed, and she shrugged. “Yeah, why not. That’s the big question, isn’t it? Who am I? I asked myself that a lot when I was in your shoes. All you need to know is that I’m someone that daddy dearest doesn’t like very much. Though, I’m sure you already knew that.”

“B-but…”

“Who are you, Jordyn? Can you answer that? If you can, maybe your story won’t have to end here.”

That… that was a trick, right? She clearly already knew my name. If I gave her the obvious answer of ‘Jordyn de Vygon,’ I was gonna get shot. No, she was looking for something else. I racked my brains, searching for some sort of clue.

“I’m sorry it’s come to this, little sis.”

“-daddy dearest-”

“Madeline Holmes, will you marry me?”

“Are… Are you me?”

I swallowed, praying to god my hunch was right. “I… I’m y-your sister. A superhero. I-I’m M-Madeline Holmes’... wife…?”

Silence reigned over the rooftop. The woman cocked her head to the side. “Huh. What gave you that idea?”

Not immediately dead. That was a good sign. “You… you called me ‘little sis,’ and… I had a dream, wh-where I was proposing to her.”

“Hmm. You’re not totally hopeless, I guess. Still, you’re a little confused. I’ll give you a hint: you’re not Madeline Holmes’ wife. I’ve had that dream, too.”

I frowned, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment in my gut. “Then… I was right about the sister thing?”

“Smart cookie. Say hello to your big sister. You can call me Maggie.”

This was all way too much to take in. Was this woman serious?! “B-but, if you’re my sister, why are you trying to kill me?!”

Maggie sighed. “I don’t want to, honestly. But I gotta prioritise number one, and Andreas would have sent you after me sooner or later, regardless of what I did. So long as you were just a mindless soldier following his every command, it was safer to just put you down. Now that we’ve had the chance to chat, though… I can see that you’re not totally under his thumb. You’re asking questions, you’re thinking for yourself a bit, instead of following blindly along with whatever he tells you. I might still have to kill you - we’ll see - but it’s a promising start.”

My head felt like it was about to explode. “S-so… You know who I am? Who I really am – the person I was before my injury?”

Maggie slumped. “See, and then you go and say shit like that, and you have me worrying again.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I wish I could tell you the truth, Jordie. I really, really do. You don’t deserve to live in ignorance, stuck under that bastard’s grip. But, if I tell you now, things are gonna go tits up faster than I can flap my wings, and I sure as shit don’t have the resources to help you when it does. You gotta figure it out for yourself. I’m sorry.”

…What? So, after everything, she just wasn’t going to tell me anything? I was this close to finally having some answers about myself, and she was just gonna keep them to herself?! Frustrated tears prickled in my eyes. “B-but, but why?! I don’t understand! Why can’t you tell me?!”

“I just told you why, dumbass. I get that you’re desperate for some answers, but that’s the best I can do for now. You want my advice? Don’t stop asking questions. Don’t take anything at face value. Andreas is gonna try every trick in the book to make you feel like you’re too stupid to understand anything, so why even bother wondering? Don’t let him. You’re smart, Jordyn. You’ve shown me that in this conversation, and during our fight. I know you can figure this out, just like I did.”

Maggie finally lowered her pistol, holstering it as she looked out over the city. The sound of police sirens echoed through the air, steadily getting louder. “I’ve stayed out too long,” she said. She looked back to me. “I’ll let you go this time, Jordyn. But if you come after me again, I won’t hesitate to blow a hole in your head, sister or not. Good luck.”

Her wings flexed, extending out to their full length. I realised she was about to fly away.

“Wait! What am I going to tell Father? He’s ordered me to kill you, I can’t just ignore that! He’ll… he’ll punish me.”

“Yeah, that’s a tough one. For today, the best you can tell him is the truth. I kicked your ass, and got away. If he’s in a generous mood, he’ll let you off. I can’t promise that, though. As for if he orders you after me again? Maybe that would be a good time to question why he wants you to kill your own sister so badly. Don’t actually ask him that, though. God, he’d whip you bloody for that. Just… think about it. See you later, Jordyn.”

With a gust of wind and a quick, painful burst of pressure from the boot on my chest, she was gone, disappearing into the night sky.

Oh. I’d totally forgotten. I was meant to be buying time until sunset so I could muster up the shadows for a surprise attack. Oops. In the wake of everything Maggie was saying, it just slipped my mind. I couldn’t say I was particularly upset about that, though. I had a feeling that that conversation had been more valuable than I could currently comprehend.

The sirens grew louder and I continued to lay there, contemplating what I’d learned as the pain from my injuries steadily intensified in the comedown from the adrenaline of the fight. I… had a sister. Why hadn’t Father told me about her? What else wasn’t Father telling me about? Why were things so clearly fraught between my two only family members? And why did Maggie’s voice sound exactly like mine?

The swelling from my throbbing cheek was starting to spread up to my eye, forcing it shut. Worried, I reached up and gently poked it. It felt about as good as could be expected, from a kick that knocked out a tooth and took my helmet right off my head; in that doing that really, really hurt. Ow.

I gingerly sat up, trying not to move my neck too much. Speaking of my helmet, I needed to find it, and quickly. The police would no doubt be here soon, come to investigate the gunshots, and I couldn’t let any of them catch sight of my face.

It was slow, painstaking work getting myself down from the rooftop into the alleyway, but I managed. Thankfully, my helmet stood out pretty obviously against all of the trash and junk, and I was able to retrieve it with relative ease. As soon as I put it on, Father’s voice rang through my ears. Hearing from him filled me with relief, but Maggie’s words still sat heavily in the back of my mind.

“Seven, what’s your status? Did you complete your mission?”

I swallowed thickly, trying to sum up the courage to lie. “I-I… I’m sorry, Father. I failed. She got away.”

Silence stretched on for a long, tense moment. Finally, Father spoke again. “Return to the facility at once. We will discuss this more once your injuries have been seen to.”

I nervously bit my lip. “Yes, sir.”

I could already tell. Father was not in a generous mood.

—

“Three cracked ribs, a fractured cheekbone, a missing tooth, and a nasty case of whiplash,” the medic said, reading off my diagnosis. “It was good that you kept the tooth in your mouth. We can probably find someone to stick it back in, but as for the rest of your injuries, the best I can suggest is taking it easy.”

Taking it easy sounded nice, but I seriously doubted Father was going to let me take another break so soon after my last one. Sure enough, his frown immediately deepened.

“You’re dismissed,” he said to the medic. They nodded their head and left without another word. Father turned to me.

“You’ve disappointed me today, Seven. All you needed to do was follow one simple order, but clearly I expected too much from you. It’s obvious that you’ve been neglecting your combat training. From now on you will be doing double training shifts every day, as well as double patrols for the next two weeks. Oh, and forget about getting your tooth back. Maybe I will reconsider once you’ve done something to earn it.”

With that, he turned and followed the medic out. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling, running my tongue along my teeth and feeling the gap in between my upper molars. Having to work double patrols through my injuries definitely sucked, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I could survive that.

I tried to turn my head as I got up from the examination table, but a lance of pain shot through my neck and down my back. I gasped, returning to my previous position as gently as I could.

Okay, maybe this was a problem.

Double combat training every day with my neck like this?!

…Fuck. Maybe it would have been better if Maggie had just pulled the trigger.

—

Maggie landed heavily on the fire escape outside of her apartment, clutching her abdomen. Adrenaline had made it a bit easier to ignore during the conversation, but now that things had calmed down, the real damage that Jordyn’s kick had inflicted upon her was becoming clear. Every breath felt like needles stabbing into her ribs.

She lifted her shirt to check the damage. Aside from the absolutely gnarly bruise, the kick had somehow also left her with multiple bleeding lacerations. The little soldier was crafty with her shadows, that was for sure. One thing was clear, though: she needed stitches. Ugh, her favourite.

She shook out her wings, trying to work off the spare anxiety, and opened the window, slipping inside.

Diego was sitting on the couch when she entered. He turned to her, a conflicted but relieved expression on his face as he looked her up and down.

“So… Did you do it?”

Maggie shook her head. “Nah. I almost did, but…” She sighed. “Seeing her scared face looking up at me like that, it… reminded me too much of Hex, on that day back in the facility. I decided to give her a chance.”

Diego’s face relaxed into a smile. “I’m proud of you. You did the right thing.” He stood up, walking over and planting a soft kiss on her lips, one that she happily returned.

She pulled out of the kiss, resting her forehead on his shoulder instead, enjoying the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. “I wish I could believe that. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see how it pans out. Where’s Hex?”

“In her room, playing Minecraft on my laptop. She’s been waiting for you to come back.”

Maggie closed her eyes. “I’ll go say hi later. Right now, I should probably focus on patching myself up.”

“You want my help?”

“After what happened last time, I think I’ll just do it myself.”

“Fair.”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

Bird lady! Maggie! Yay! honestly up until writing this chapter her name was gonna be 'Fila' but i wasn't loving that so i decided to change it. Her full name is Magpie btw :)

listening to the yakuza soundtrack is quite motivating when it comes to writing fight scenes I've found. makes the imagery play out in my head like a QTE or something. It's great :)

Anyway, thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog, it's super appreciated! also let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist :)

see you guys next time for another Steve'o chapter. Ciao!

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whumpblr #whump #whump writing #living weapon whump #creative writing #writeblr #original fiction #winged character #superhero whump

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bamber344 · 2 months ago

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Cracks In The Façade

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posting this now because i can't be F'ed waiting till tomorrow morning tbh...

We've got a Steve and Vivienne double POV special! it was my first time inside both of their heads so I hope I've done them justice!

CWs: references to previous torture (beating, cutting), gun whump, minor medical whump, caretaker who is just doing her best fr fr, references to past gaslighting, living weapon whumpee

enjoy!

Cracks in the Façade

Detective Steve Matthews sighed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling it away from his chest to allow some airflow. It was a blisteringly hot day, and he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was right at that moment; standing in the sun outside of a convenience store that just got held up. The perp didn’t get very far, thankfully. Seven had been patrolling nearby and took the man down before he could make it across the street. Now Steve was just here to take statements and collect evidence in the summer heat. Or, more like he was there to supervise the beat cops as they did all of those things under the direction of another detective while he just stood around sweating. As if Captain de Vygon would actually let him lead his own investigation.

At least he didn’t have it as bad as Seven did, though. It couldn’t have been cool in that intimidating black armour, and he knew that the captain was breathing down her neck just as hard as his – probably even harder. Ever since those SWAT officers were killed a week ago, Seven had been moving differently; almost gingerly, as though she was hurt, or so Steve had noticed in their few encounters. It rose warning flags in the back of his mind. Something just wasn’t right about that whole situation. Steve didn’t trust de Vygon’s integrity at the best of times; he wouldn’t put it past him to beat his volunteer superhero for a mistake, especially one so extreme. The real question was, why would Seven put up with it? It just didn’t sit right.

Well, what was he going to do about it, anyway? He wasn’t a hero. He was barely a cop. Seven was an adult woman and a borderline supersoldier. He’d seen her flip a grown man over her tiny 5’3” frame and break his arm with ease. If she had a problem with how things were going behind the scenes, she could get herself out of it. The Union would take her in no questions asked if she wanted. It was probably just in his head.

Right now, the woman was standing some distance away, seemingly spacing out while staring through the window at the mannequins on display in a woman’s clothing boutique. She seemed to have relaxed some now that she wasn’t on active duty, antsily twiddling her fingers together as she examined the clothes. Steve walked over to her. He had nothing better to do, after all.

“Thinking about buying something?” he asked.

Seven jumped a little before turning to him. “S-sorry?”

“Are you thinking about buying something from here? You seem pretty fascinated by what they got on display.”

Seven looked at him, and then back to the mannequins, wringing her hands nervously. “Um, I don’t have any money. I was just… looking.”

No money? That was odd. Though, perhaps she just meant she didn’t have any on her. It didn’t look like her armour had pockets, to be fair.

Steve shrugged. “Still, you work hard. You should treat yourself. Why not come back after your shift is done?”

Seven stared at him, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could sense the confusion in her body language. She looked back and forth between him and the boutique a few times. “Uh… O-okay…”

The more Steve interacted with her outside of combat scenarios or de Vygon’s presence, the more he felt like there was something seriously weird going on. Her apparent personality just didn’t match the front she put up whenever she was working. If he had to guess, he’d say she almost felt like… like a sheltered kid or something. Where the hell did de Vygon find this girl?

A memory flashed through his head, but he shook it off. He’d heard it enough from the precinct counsellor; it was just a hallucination induced by stress and a lack of sleep, nothing more.

The awkward silence stretched on. Steve sighed. “Well, whatever. Do what you want. I’m gonna head back to the scene; I think the boys are almost done with the evidence.”

He turned and started walking away, hearing Seven’s footsteps following along behind him. He approached her because she’d looked a little lonely, standing there staring at the store like a puppy with a toy it couldn’t have, but now he felt bad about interrupting her privacy and ruining her quiet moment.

They got back to the scene. Steve busied himself catching up on the evidence that had been logged, while Seven milled around, as she was wont to do at crime scenes. A few days after her first appearance, a couple of fleeing perps returned to a scene that she’d already left and ruined some evidence before the police could stop them. Ever since then, she’d made a habit of sticking around to ensure everything went smoothly, unless there was another pressing issue that required her attention.

It was a few minutes later that things went awry. A loud crack echoed across the street and Seven flew backwards. All of the officers dove for cover and Steve was no exception; throwing his car door open and hiding behind it. There was a shooter, and if they had managed to knock Seven off her feet, they had to be packing some serious heat.

Steve glanced around. Seven was on the floor, but she was still moving. According to de Vygon, that armour of hers was bullet-proof. He hoped for her sake that was correct. She lifted her head, trying to get up, but another shot ripped through the air and sparks flew from Seven’s helmet as she was forced straight back to the ground.

Steve drew his pistol, taking a deep breath. He peeked through the window of the open car door, looking up at the roof of the opposite building. The sky was blindingly bright, but he could just about make out a figure perched on the edge. Light glinted from the scope of the sniper rifle in their hands.

One of the other officers returned fire and the figure startled, backing up and taking their rifle with them. A huge pair of dark wings unfurled from their back and flapped, lifting them from the roof with improbable speed. Steve took aim and fired a few shots, but none of them met their mark. The figure was too fast, ducking and weaving through the air until they were gone from sight.

“Seven, are you alright?!” Steve asked, jumping out of his hiding spot to check on her.

Seven groaned, lifting her head again. The glass on the front of her visor was cracked, but it didn’t look like the bullet had gone through. Most likely, it ricocheted off the edge. He couldn’t tell where the first shot had impacted, but the woman didn’t seem that much worse for wear, if a little winded. “Y-yeah… I’m okay.”

“Come on, we might still be able to see them from the roof!”

Steve turned to the other officers. “Put out an APB! We’re looking for someone with huge black wings and a sniper rifle! They won’t be able to hide!”

The authority in his voice surprised even him, but it spurred the officers into action, scrambling to communicate with dispatch to organise a manhunt. With that out of the way, he turned back to the building the shooter was perched on, running towards it. Seven was back on her feet by now, right behind him.

She cleared the building in a single jump, disappearing over the edge of the roof. Steve wasn’t so blessed with augmented abilities, and as such had to painstakingly climb his way up the fire escape, activating muscles he probably hadn’t used in years. He was definitely going to be sore by tomorrow morning.

Finally, panting and gasping from exertion, he reached the roof, but it was too late. The winged person was nowhere to be seen. It was just their luck that their suspect would be able to fly. Still, they’d find them in time. There was no way someone with such an obvious power could hide themselves for long.

Seven was looking at the floor, where the shooter had been perched. Scattered around the area were a dozen long black feathers, no doubt left by their wings. Once again, Steve was hit by a memory he’d been trying to forget, of a night roughly eighteen months ago, where he’d seen an impossible sight that subsequently nose-dived his career.

~~~

It was a little past one in the morning on a cold winter’s night, and Steve Matthews was returning to precinct 23 to pick up some case files he needed to look over. It had been a long week, and exhaustion was clawing at him like a feral cat, trying to drag him to bed, but there was still work to be done. He promised himself that once he got back to his apartment, he would sleep and go over the files in the morning, and that assurance gave him the strength needed to keep going for these last few hours.

It was when he was just about to enter the precinct that it happened. The glass door flew open and Steve froze as he came face to face with the two girls running out. They froze in turn, staring him down. In the dim light from the street lamp, Steve could just about make out their appearances, and what he saw shook him to his core.

One girl was older; clearly an adult, and the other was probably in her early teens, if Steve had to guess. They were both dressed in identical black thermals and had shaved heads. The older one had a large pair of wings sprouting from her back, the feathers puffing up in anticipation. Both girls had the exact same face; one that should’ve belonged to a dead woman. The younger one’s eyes held a cocktail of fear, sorrow, and pain. In her older sister, there was only rage.

A small twitch of her feathers was all the warning he got before the older one was wrapping her arms around the teen, beating her wings against the cold air and disappearing into the dark sky, leaving Steve alone to contemplate the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

~~~

Steve remembered how hard Captain de Vygon had tried to convince him what he’d seen wasn’t real. He remembered all of the counselling sessions he’d been forced to go to, all the cases he’d been forced to drop because of his supposed ‘unstable mental state.’ According to de Vygon, of course it had been a hallucination! Why else would both girls have had the face of a dead superhero? Rosalyn Garcia-Holmes was one of the most famous superheroes Tombguard had ever seen, and Steve had even met her a handful of times before her death thanks to his niece. It made sense that his brain would pick out her face to put on the actors in its mysterious play. It was all just in his head. Steve had even started to believe it himself. Now, however…

Steve looked over at Seven. She came from precinct 23, just like those two mystery girls. What face hid underneath that visor of hers? Why was everything about her so weird? Just what exactly was de Vygon doing underneath the precinct?

Seven was still staring at those feathers. A thought occurred to him; a pit opening in his stomach. If those girls had all come from the same place, there was every possibility that they knew each other. And now, one of them had just shot Seven with clear intent to kill. Regardless of what else was going on behind the scenes, that had to sting.

“Did… Did you know who that was?” he asked carefully.

Seven hesitated, but ultimately shook her head. “N-no. Captain de Vygon has spoken of a girl with wings before, but I don’t know who she is.”

Her voice was slurring a little. Steve frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I-”

—

“Did you hear that?” Brianna asked, craning her head around despite the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see anything, anyway.

“Hear what?” Viv replied. They were sitting together on a rooftop, enjoying a lunch break from their patrol. Not that there was really much to be patrolling for, especially not for a support hero and rescue hero, but it was a good excuse for both of them to get out of studying for a while, and enjoy the warm summer’s day. That reminded Vivienne that Maddie was probably about due to be dragged out of the house again, as well. Rosie would kill her if she let her wife rot inside all summer, and they hadn’t really done anything since Rosie’s death anniversary aside from hang out and play video games together.

Brea frowned. “Sounded like gunshots. Over in that direction.” She nodded her head down the street, her shoulder-length braids swishing back and forth with the movement.

“Should we go check it out?”

Brea shrugged. “If you wanna. I’m not too keen to get caught up in a fight or something, though.”

“We’ll just have a look from a distance,” Viv said. “If it’s something we can help with, maybe we can step in, but we’ll see.”

“Alrighty then, sounds good.”

The two of them stood up and Viv took Brianna’s hand. In an instant, the scenery changed and they were about two kilometres down the street. Brea shuddered - she still wasn’t very used to teleportation - as Viv looked around. There were a few police cars parked a ways away, and she could just about make out two people on a rooftop nearby.

“So?” Brea asked. “Anything interesting?”

Vivienne squinted. “A couple of cop cars, and… I think that’s my uncle? And that new hero that works with the police, too. They’re on a roof. Doesn’t look like anything dangerous is going on anymore.”

“Y’know, I’ve been wondering what that new hero’s deal is. I’ve heard a lot of weird rumours on the radio. What’s her name again? Seven?”

“Yeah. Maddie and I met her a couple weeks ago. We didn’t really get to chat though, because de Vygon showed up and swooped her away. Wanna see if we can say hi?”

“Might as well. Not like we’ve got much better to do. Just… warn me before we teleport next time, please? I know I can’t actually see that we’ve moved, but something about the way the air pressure pops just throws me off.”

“Sure, sorry about that.” She took Brianna’s hand again. “You ready?”

Brea took a deep breath and nodded. Vivienne focused on the empty space a few feet away from her uncle. She did a countdown for Brea’s benefit and as soon as she reached zero, Viv flipped the switch in her brain and the space that she was focusing on appeared under her feet. She turned her good cheer up to eleven and announced herself to the two police officers.

“Hey guys! What’s-”

Seven whipped around and a wave of darkness spilled from the seams in her armour, barrelling towards the two of them. Viv stumbled backwards, waving her hands.

“Wait, wait! Friendly!”

The wall of shadow stopped inches from her face, dissipating into the air. Seven didn’t drop her combat stance though, watching them through her visor like a hawk. Speaking of which, her visor looked seriously messed up. The opaque glass was spiderwebbed with cracks, coalescing at a point near her temple. Also, it sort of looked like there was a hole in her armour, right above her heart. What the heck happened here?

“I-it’s just me! You know, Vivienne? We met one time? Oh yeah, and this is Brianna, she’s my friend. Hi, uncle Steve!”

“Yo,” Brea said.

Steve sighed. “Hello Vivienne. This is a crime scene, you can’t be here.”

They must have startled Seven something fierce. Her whole body was shaking. Viv frowned, ignoring her uncle.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well.”

The woman finally dropped the combat stance, putting a hand on her chest. “D-detective… I… I think the first shot pierced my armour…”

Steve whirled around. “What?! You said you were okay!”

“I- I thought… The shock must’ve… It… It hurts.” Her voice cracked into something almost like a sob at the end. Vivienne’s gut wrenched.

“Uncle! There’s a first-aid kit in your car, right?”

Steve blinked, taken aback. “Y-yes, but-”

“Brea, get her to lay down. I’ll be back soon!”

“You got it,” Brea replied.

Viv turned to Seven. “You can trust us, alright? I know first-aid; I’m studying to be a nurse right now. It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna fix you right up. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Seven nodded shakily. “O-okay…”

Vivienne jumped into action, grabbing her uncle’s wrist and teleporting him down to where the police cars were milling. He barked some orders at the other officers as they made their way to his car, relaying the situation and telling them to inform Captain de Vygon while Viv opened the trunk and grabbed the first-aid kit. She wasted no time teleporting them back to the roof-top, pleased to find Seven already lying on her back. Brea was holding her hand, speaking softly to her.

“Do you want to take your helmet off?” she asked. “You might be able to breathe a little easier without it.”

Seven shook her head. “Not allowed to let anyone see my face…”

“Well, I’m blind, so I won’t be able to see it anyway. If you’re more comfortable with it on, that’s fine.”

Seven reached a hand up, and for a moment Viv thought that she would get to see the face under the mask, but all she removed was her mouthpiece. Her lips were chapped and dry, and the surrounding skin was discoloured with fading bruises. Her bottom lip looked like it had been split recently. She and Steve shared a look. Clearly, he was thinking similar thoughts.

If Seven never took her helmet off when she was out, where had she taken those hits?

Viv tried to ignore it. That wasn’t important right now. She knelt down at Seven’s side, examining her abdomen.

“We’re gonna have to remove your chestplate to get a good look, Seven,” she explained. “Don’t worry, help is on the way. We’re just gonna make sure you’re as well as you can be until they get here.”

“Latches ‘re under the armpits,” Seven replied, slurring slightly. Without the electronics in the mask obscuring it, her voice was soft. It had a rough sort of cadence that reminded Viv a little bit of Rosie, only without the hispanic accent.

Viv followed her instructions, finding the latches and pulling the chestplate off. If the state of what little she could see of Seven’s face had shocked her, then she definitely wasn’t prepared for the state of her bare torso. She sucked in a breath, and heard her uncle curse quietly.

Below her armour, Seven was wearing nothing but a sports bra, leaving very little to the imagination and filling Vivienne with some very conflicted emotions. On one hand, Seven was fucking sculpted. She looked like a goddamn greek statue, and the sight of those sweaty planes of muscled, tanned skin were leaving Viv a little breathless. On the other hand, it looked like someone had used her abdomen as a punching bag, leaving a tapestry of colourful bruising across every inch of aforementioned skin. What was even more concerning than that, however, were the two sloppily stitched-up cuts intersecting each other on the upper-left side of her belly. They were too clean to be anything other than intentionally made, and clearly the patch-up was far from a professional job. Vivienne didn’t know what to think about any of this, but it was giving her a distinctly bad feeling.

She pushed all of those thoughts down. Now wasn’t the time. Seven was her patient, and right now all that mattered was finding and assessing the damage from the bullet she was presumably shot with. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to find at all. A large patch of blood had saturated the cotton of her bra right above her sternum, surrounding a very obvious hole.

The fact that she was still conscious and alive meant that the bullet had most likely been slowed down enough by her armour to be stopped by her sternum, but Viv doubted that the bone remained entirely intact in the process. It was a marvel that she was still able to move about in the way she had. Either Seven was very used to pain, or she was still bursting at the seams with adrenaline. Based on the state of her body, it was probably a mix of both. The only certainty was that she needed a hospital. Until professionals arrived, Viv and Brea would just have to do their best for her.

Step one was to find the bullet. If it was deeply embedded in the bone, there wouldn’t be anything they could do for her now aside from slowing the bleeding, but they might be able to remove it themselves if it just impacted the surface. There weren’t any major blood vessels in that area, so they could probably do most of the patch-up work on site.

“Brea, can you check how deep the bullet is?” Viv asked.

Brianna nodded, moving her hand closer to Seven’s chest. Two of her fingers disappeared, turning into thin wisps of smoke that then drifted daintily down onto Seven’s body. The smoke wafted around searchingly until it found the hole, sinking into it and examining the interior painlessly.

“It seems like it’s just below the surface of her skin. Doesn’t feel like it’s fragmented or anything. We shouldn’t have any problems removing it here.”

“Cool,” Viv replied, pulling on some gloves from the first-aid kit and searching for a pair of tweezers.

“Don’t worry,” Seven muttered. “I’ve got it.”

Vivienne was about to protest when blackness began to seep across Seven’s skin from the shadowed edges of her armour. It travelled like a liquid, remaining flush with her body as it slipped under her bra and amassed in the bullet hole. Seven tensed up, balling her fists and clenching her teeth, clearly trying to power through the pain of whatever she was doing. Viv was a little too distracted by the mouth-watering sight of her tensed abs to question it. After a few seconds, Seven relaxed, her body deflating with a sigh as a flattened, gore-covered bullet rose from the hole, lifted by a pillar of shadow, before being discarded and rolling away down the side of her chest, leaving a trail of red on the cotton in its wake.

Viv blinked. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?”

“‘s not the first time I’ve had to pull shrapnel out of myself,” Seven replied.

Well then. Just another thing to file away under the ‘weird and concerning things about this new superhero’ tab in her brain.

Vivienne took a second to get her brain back in order. This next part was important.

“Alright, well… Are you okay with me lifting your bra so we can patch up the wound?”

Seven waved a hand that flopped limply back to the ground. That wasn’t a great sign. “Go right ahead.”

Viv took a breath and ripped the metaphorical band-aid off, lifting the garment and looking only at the bloody wound on her chest, refusing to let her eyes drift anywhere else. Time to do her thing.

“I know I said we’d do our best for you here, but you should really go to a hospital just to be safe. The risk of infection here is pretty high,” Vivienne explained as she gently rubbed the wound down with an iodine wipe. Brea kept hold of Seven’s hand, whispering comforting nothings to her to distract her focus away from the pain Viv was no-doubt causing.

Seven shook her head. “N… No hospital. Not allowed.”

Oh boy. It just got worse and worse with this one, didn’t it?

“Do you at least have some sort of medical facility you can go to?”

Seven nodded, so at least that was one less thing for Vivienne to lose sleep about. She pulled out a bandage and placed it over the wound, deciding it was safer not to stitch it up here in case she missed anything that the actual doctors would need access to treat. With that done, she pulled Seven’s bra back down into its place.

“Well, that’s about all I can do for that right now. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Viv asked.

Seven let out what was probably supposed to be a considering hum, but it ended up sounding more like a groan. “Mm, I dunno… Thanks for your help, though. You guys’re nice. And you’re really pretty, too.”

Brianna barked out a laugh as Viv’s insides got caught in a vice. “O-oh. Um, thank you.” She could feel her face burning with an obvious blush. Stupid redhead genes.

“What about me?” Brea asked, smirking.

“Yah, I meant you, too,” Seven clarified. Her voice was slurring a lot now. “I really like your… your face. ‘s nice.”

Brea was trying to act cool, but Viv could still see her dark complexion deepening from the blush on her cheeks, too.

Steve - who had walked away once Viv removed Seven’s bra for the sake of her modesty - made his way back over to them. “Seven, do you have a concussion? You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Oh, uh… Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Viv groaned. “Of course you do. How do you even know?”

“My visor can check for it… That bullet hit me in the head pretty hard, so the first thing I did was get it to check.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Steve asked.

“A lil’ bump‘s no reason to stop working.”

“We should take your helmet off to check. It might be pretty serious,” Viv said.

Seven shook her head again. “Not allowed.”

“Seven, I’m not kidding! You could be in real danger and we’ve had no idea this whole time!”

Steve sighed. “It’s fine, Vivienne. You’ve done good. Her medical team will take care of the rest. Speaking of which…” he trailed off, glancing over the edge of the building. “Looks like the cavalry’s here.”

Everything moved quickly from thereon. A group of people ascended up the fire escape with a stretcher and carefully laid Seven out on top of it. They were about to make the painstaking journey down when Viv just offered to teleport them. It would be dangerous taking her down the fire escape, and the quicker Seven got some proper medical attention for her head, the better. It wasn’t long before she was bundled into the armoured van and driven away to wherever her supposed ‘medical centre’ was, leaving Vivienne, Brianna, and Steve alone on the roof.

“Yeesh,” Brianna said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “That girl has issues.”

Steve shook his head. “Everything about her is just… giving me a bad feeling.”

“I’ll say,” Viv replied. “Did you see the state of her torso? Those bruises were awful! Not to mention the cuts…”

“I’d suspected something like that. The way she’s been moving recently, it was obvious that she was in pain. And I’d bet good money that Andreas de Vygon had something to do with it. He practically has her on a leash.”

The name made Vivienne’s blood boil. That man was truly scum. He’d tormented the Union for years, harassing and slandering her and her friends. Why any superhero would choose to join him was beyond her. That being said, the more she learned about the mysterious woman, the more it seemed like it might not have been a choice after all.

“There’s gotta be something we can do, right?” Brea asked, voicing Viv’s thoughts. “If de Vygon’s mistreating her, surely there’s someone we can tell about it to get her out of his hands?”

“He would just cover it up,” Steve said. He let out a breath, rubbing his face with weary exhaustion. “Look, the only thing I know for sure is that that woman is strong enough to take down the entire precinct if she wanted. If she had a problem with how she was being treated, she could get herself out of it. De Vygon might have influence, but he’s just a normal man when it comes to power. Seven could easily kill him if he angered her. We’re probably just looking too much into it. Those injuries could easily just be from combat training or something.”

Vivienne sighed, looking out over the city in the direction Seven’s medical team had left in. “I hope you’re right, uncle. I really, really do.”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue

Even in the midst of a concussion and a broken sternum, Jordyn can't help but be a hopeless lesbian

Viv didn't really get as much introspection into her character as I would've liked but that's just because she was so focused on Jordyn that there was no time for that. Chapter was ballooning a lot as is. I'm sure she'll get more later :)

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought! Comments and reblogs very appreciated :)

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whumpblr #whump #living weapon whump #whump writing #gun whump #creative writing #blind character #medical whump

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bamber344 · 2 months ago

Text

The Cost Of Negligence

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this chapter is a little over 4k words long and almost 3k of it is pure whump :3 I know y'all have been starved of some solid whumper-whumpee goodness for the sake of story progression but dw, here it is!

Feels good to actually have shit to put in the CWs lol

CWs: living weapon whump, controlling whumper, gun violence, knife whump, drowning whump, beatings, dehumanisation, belittling, conditioned whumpee, references to past torture (whipping), the inherent irrationality of abuse

poor jordyn :3

enjoy the chapter!

The Cost Of Negligence

The sound of my heartbeat echoed through my head. According to my visor, my BPM was sitting at around 110. Anticipation ate at my gut and sweat prickled along my skin. I could see my nerves reflected in the men around me; their hunched backs, twitchy fingers, and heavy breathing. In comparison, I must have looked totally stone-cold calm. I wasn’t, of course, but I knew better than to let my anxiety show. I was their rock; the one these men would be relying on above all else. To show any form of weakness would be tantamount to sabotaging the mission.

“Are you ready, Seven?” the team commander’s voice pierced in my ear, sharp and electronic over the comms.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. The men around me all tensed in response. It was time.

The command to breach sounded like a bomb going off in my head, and everything started moving at once. The man with the battering ram smashed the door open while another threw a flash grenade in through the doorway, giving the criminals inside no time to react before they were blinded.

They were scum. The worst of the worst; manufacturers of the sorts of drugs that have ruined countless lives on the streets of Tombguard. I’ve seen the result of their greed time and time again over my past month of patrolling; in the crumpled bodies on the sides of the road; in the people twitching, scratching themselves, making scenes over nothing but the narcotic-induced hallucinations and hurting themselves in the process. The source of all that pain could be traced straight back to this building, where a tip-off confirmed that a manufacturing plant of one of the city’s largest drug trafficking rings was located. They would get no mercy from me.

I charged forward into the fray, shadows lashing from my body as I took the lead in disabling the criminals. Most of them were completely stunned by the flashbang, so it was a cinch to run up and crack each of them with a well placed hit to the skull, sending them crumpling to the ground and leaving them for the SWAT officers to apprehend.

The door in front of me slammed open and a man ran out, pistol in hand. He zeroed in on me as the biggest threat and took aim. For a split second, I froze as adrenaline shot through me, but then my training kicked in and I threw my arm up, turning the darkness inside the barrel of the gun solid. He pulled the trigger and the whole thing exploded, mangling his hand.

I ran up as he screamed, slamming the palm of my hand into his nose and jabbing at his throat in quick succession before cracking my elbow against his temple. His knees buckled and he collapsed like a sheet of broken glass.

The clamour in the main room had become significantly quieter. I turned and surveyed the situation, pleased to find almost all of the criminals in handcuffs already, the officers sweeping the last few rooms of the house that held the source of all this pain.

“Is that all of them?” I asked.

One of the SWAT officers - Eyre, I thought his name was - did a head count of the apprehended criminals. “According to the tip we got, there should be one-”

The door next to him opened - the last door we had yet to check - and all I saw was the barrel of a shotgun before my legs were powering forward and I was shoving Eyre down.

The gunshot went off and the force of the impact against my armour sent me rolling across the room, the wind rushing from my lungs. Several more gunshots echoed through the small space as the other officers drew their weapons and returned fire, putting down the culprit like the dog he was.

“Anyone hit?” one of the officers called.

“N-no, no, I’m okay,” Eyre said, picking himself up off the floor. I did the same, wincing at the pain in my back. My armour was more than enough to prevent any real injury from such small bullets, but the shock of the bullets’ collision with the metal still transferred to my body, right into the scars that Father had left with his whip. Just my luck. It was definitely going to bruise, and those things gave me enough grief already.

“Seven? Are you good?”

I nodded, grateful for my visor to hide my grimace. “Yes.”

The officer turned away, seemingly satisfied. “Alright, let’s get these suspects rounded up so the evidence team can clear this place out.”

Relief flooded my system at the notion that we were finished. No more fighting for today; I could just go back to the facility and relax. Or, more likely, shadow Father after giving my report until he dismissed me. Still, that would be leagues better than the nauseating heat of battle. At least with Father there was a certain guarantee that I wouldn’t be suddenly inflicted with a head wound. I couldn’t say the same about joining SWAT raids, that was for sure.

The earpiece in my helmet crackled to life with the commander’s voice. “Lookout team C isn’t responding. Seven, could you go check it out?”

“Roger,” I replied, rushing out the door. The brightness of the midday sun glared in my visor as I ran, heading for the tall building across the street that housed Lookout Team C. There were several sniper teams set up around the area, keeping an eye on things in case any suspects made a run for it. They hadn’t been needed, thankfully, but it was still worrying that this team wasn’t responding. Hopefully, it was just a radio malfunction, but something in my gut was telling me otherwise.

The shadows in my armour wrapped themselves around my legs like springs, fortifying them and giving me the strength to fling myself and clear several storeys in one jump. I flew up through the air until I reached the apex of my flight, sending out a whip of darkness from my wrist which wrapped itself around the railing of the fire escape, keeping me suspended. The whip shrank, and I was pulled up along with it, slingshotting myself over the edge of the building and onto the roof, where I landed in a safety roll before turning to where the lookout team was supposed to be posted.

Two people in SWAT uniforms laid sprawled against the lip of the roof, blood pooling beneath them. Their sniper rifle was nowhere to be seen. My heart lurched.

“Team C is down!” I shouted into the comms, rushing over. Maybe they could still be saved.

“What happened?! What’s their status?” The commander asked.

I reached the bodies, turning one over onto his back. His entire front was stained red, and his throat hung open and bloody like a gaping maw of flesh. I dropped him and stumbled back, looking around in case the one who’d done this was still nearby. All was still and silent.

“Th-they’re dead,” I replied. “Their throats are cut, a-and their gun is missing.”

“Shit!”

What followed was a scramble of orders too fast for me to process. I was too busy staring at the bodies of the two men who had been assigned to look out for us. When did this happen? How long have they been lying there, growing cold? From the looks of things, they didn’t even get a chance to react to whatever attacked them. One moment they were alive, diligently doing their duty for the raid, and the next, they were bleeding out on the concrete. I just… couldn’t understand. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to the good guys.

The comms crackled and Father’s voice suddenly appeared in my ears.

“Pick up that feather, Seven.”

His words kicked my mind back into gear. Sure enough, there were several black feathers scattered around the scene. I hadn’t noticed them before, and honestly, why would I? There were plenty of birds in the city, and plenty of birds meant plenty of feathers. They weren’t usually something to bat an eye at. That being said, if Father wanted a better look at the feather, he must have had a good reason for it. Following his order, I picked one up, examining it. It shimmered in the sunlight, long and full. I didn’t know much about birds, but this feather seemed healthy to me.

“Bring it back to the facility with you. I will be awaiting your report in your quarters. That is all.”

The comms crackled again, and Father’s voice disappeared, replaced once again with the Commander’s frantic yelling, trying to coordinate a search for the suspect who did this to his men. I looked back at the feather, considering it again. I remembered the words Father said to me on the day I was deployed, just after meeting Madeline for the first time. If the puzzle pieces connected the way I thought they did, the search wasn’t going to be successful, especially if they only looked on the ground.

“Kill the black-winged one on sight should you see it.”

I turned my gaze up towards the sky. That magnificent blue stretched onwards to infinity, dotted with clouds of varying shapes and sizes. There was no ‘black-winged one’; no crazed, knife-wielding killers darting through the air, silhouetted in the light. Just an endless expanse of blue. There was nothing. Nothing but a feather clutched between my fingers, two dead men, and a missing sniper rifle.

Why, then, did I still feel like I was being watched?

—

I sighed, sitting down on the end of my bed having finally stripped my armour off at the end of the day. I’d already given Father my report of the raid, and handed over the feather he’d been so interested in. He was silent the entire time, just listening, not even saying a word when he left my quarters. It worried me a little. Today was far from usual in terms of my activities, and adding in the huge loss of two SWAT officers, I could imagine that Father wasn’t very happy. I’d been doing good for him lately, but I knew well how easily his displeasure could turn around onto me. My bruised back throbbed in memory of the whipping I got all those months ago for failing at the obstacle course. I’d have to be on my guard.

Sure enough, the door opened again and I jumped back to my feet, standing at the ready. Father glowered as he walked over, the door shutting automatically behind him. Usually, he would've given me the command to be at ease by now. Something was very wrong. I didn't have my armour on anymore; totally stripped down to my underwear. The knowledge of how defenceless I was in the face of his anger was terrifying.

He stopped inches away from my face, towering over me. I averted my gaze nervously.

“Could you tell me, Seven…” he began, voice low and rumbling like thunder. “Why exactly two men under your protection were killed, and you have nothing to show for it?”

“I- I don’t know, sir. I was busy with the raid; I don’t know what happened to the lookout team. I… I didn’t think they would be in any danger.”

He struck me across the face with the back of his hand, and my head rang like a bell. My entire body tensed up so that I wouldn’t move from my position and anger him further.

“Two men are dead because of your negligence, do you understand that? Two good men, with families that we will need to notify. What am I supposed to tell John Benovich’s wife when she asks why her husband isn’t coming home? That we don’t know why? That the only reason her husband is dead is because you weren’t doing your job? Can you even comprehend the gravity of your failure today?”

As a matter of fact, I didn’t understand it. How could what happened have been my fault? Was there really anything I could have done differently to prevent it? I knew Father was right of course, but the thought of the blame falling on me when I couldn’t make sense of it rankled, and I felt the uncharacteristic urge to defend myself bubble up inside me. Deep down I knew I would regret it; I knew Father would punish me for my insubordination - and rightfully so - but some part of me just couldn’t concede until I really understood what he was trying to tell me. I looked up and met Father’s piercing glare.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I don’t see how it was my failure. I had no way of knowing what would happen, and the lookout teams were far outside of the range in which I could reasonably protect them. I… I just don’t understand how it’s my fault. I- I’m sorry.”

The silence in the room boiled and I felt the regret wash over me like a humid wave; sweat beading across my body. Father’s face contorted, his pale skin growing splotchy and red. I saw the hit coming from a mile away as the world seemed to move in slow-motion, but my body refused to move out of the way; painfully aware of how much I deserved this punishment for what I just did.

His fist collided with my nose and I felt the cartilage crack under his knuckles. My head snapped backwards and I stumbled, the pain and shock filling my eyes with tears. My back hit the sink and my knees buckled, dropping me to the floor and leaving me half supporting myself against the cold porcelain as warm, coppery liquid dripped over my lips and into my open mouth.

Father shook his hand out, his face a mask of rage. He stalked over and grabbed one of the straps of my sports bra, forcefully pulling me back to my feet. Icy terror stabbed through my chest. I really shouldn’t have done that.

“W-wait! I’m sor-”

He struck me again with his free hand, still holding me in place. My head spun, and my mouth tasted like blood from where I’d accidentally bitten the inside of my cheek.

“How dare you talk back to me, you mangy little attack dog?! How many times am I going to have to beat this lesson into you? I own you. You are mine. If I say that you failed, you have failed, and the first thing you should be doing is getting on your knees and begging me for forgiveness, not giving me backtalk! You know nothing about how the world works. You are nothing. Without me, you wouldn’t be here; you wouldn’t get this freedom that I’m allowing you. You would be buried six feet in the dirt where you belong! And you’re telling me you don’t understand? Of course you don’t; you’re barely one degree above an animal. You’re lucky I’m even gracing you with my presence. Do you at least understand that?”

Through the hot tears on my face and the paralysing fear in my gut, I could tell he was looking for an answer. I nodded frantically.

“Say it!” he screamed, aggressively shaking me.

“I- I understand, s-sir!”

He leaned in close until our noses were almost touching. I tried to shy away, but my back was against the wall. There was nowhere to go.

“What do you understand?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“I- I understand that I’m lucky to h-have you, F-Father.”

His eyes narrowed. “...And?”

I swallowed, trying to remember his exact words. “A-and… that I’m b-barely one degree above an animal…”

He tapped my cheek with his thumb. It was gentle, but it still made me flinch.

“That’s right, Jordyn. You’re barely even a person, and the only reason you get to be that much is because of me. You only matter if you’re useful to me. Remember that.”

He finally leaned away and I had to resist letting out a sigh of relief at getting my personal space back. My heart was still pounding in my ears and my nose throbbed painfully along with every beat.

“Now,” he said. “Would you like me to help you understand your failure today, as well?”

I froze. I wasn’t sure how I should answer that. With no words coming to mind, my mouth supplied the default before I could stop it.

“Yes, please.”

Father cracked his knuckles. “Good.”

He was coming at me again before I knew what was happening. His fist sunk into my solar plexus and I gagged, slamming back against the wall as the air rushed out of me. Father didn’t slow down, following up with an elbow cracking across my cheekbone. One left jab split my bottom lip, and a right hook blackened my eye. His fingers tightened around my head as he grabbed my face and drove my skull against the wall behind me. I felt the skin split and warm blood drip down my neck, but there was no time to focus on that as Father pulled me down into a knee that crushed my already broken nose.

The pain was too much, and for a split second, everything turned white. I felt my body go limp and the world seemed to slip out of focus as Father began kicking me in the gut over and over, not allowing me a second to suck in the breath that had been lost when this beating began. A sharp, stabbing pain that was definitely a broken rib shot through my chest, and black swarmed my vision. It all became too much, and my eyelids started to fall shut, unconsciousness taking hold.

Just as quickly as it had started, Father backed off, storming out of the room and leaving me in a heap on the floor, slowly coming back to myself. My chest finally untightened and I sucked in as much air as I could, panting and coughing and sobbing at how much breathing hurt. I still didn’t understand. What was the point of all that? All… All he did was hurt me, and I still didn’t know what he meant when he said that I failed. Was it even possible for me to understand? Maybe… Maybe I was just too stupid. That was why Father was always there to tell me what to do. Without him, maybe I would just be too dumb to understand anything. Maybe I really was just a dumb, stupid, barely-a-person animal, just like he said.

I clenched my teeth, trying to stop crying. Every sob was like another kick in the chest, and it was excruciating. I really should’ve tried to get up and treat my wounds, but the thought of moving right now made panic claw up my throat. At least there was the reassurance that I had nothing else to do today, so I had all the time in the world to just lie here and feel sorry for myself. There was no need to force myself up just yet.

I heard the door slide back open; heard Father’s footsteps across the tile floor, and cold dread washed over me like ice water.

My vision was still blurry, so I couldn’t quite make out his face as he approached, but I could see what he was holding. In one hand: a knife. In the other: a bucket, sloshing with liquid.

“Oh good,” he said, voice lilting with menace. “You’re still conscious.”

“Wh… Wha…?” I tried to speak through my busted mouth, but it wasn’t quite following my instructions. Everything felt too thick and heavy.

“Your lesson isn’t over yet, Jordyn. We don’t stop until you understand.”

Panic shot through me like a bullet, and I started hyperventilating. “P-please… N-no more…”

Father shook his head. “You need to know the cost of your negligence. You need to know what you put those two men through by failing them today.”

He put the bucket down and grabbed the back of my neck, dragging me painfully to my feet. I could barely keep my balance, but Father’s hand remained in place and held me steady as the world spun around me.

Something cold and sharp poked my belly a split second before a line of fire parted my skin; Father’s knife cutting a shallow slice into my abdomen. I screamed as the agony struck through my nerves like lightning, thrashing and trying to escape. Father’s hand maintained its iron grip.

“Because you couldn’t maintain protective vigilance over all members of the raid team today, both of those men had to suffer through the excruciating experience of having their throats slit.”

The knife came again in time with his last word, cutting perpendicularly through the previous wound. I dry-heaved. My hands remained at my sides, refusing to move and defend me no matter how badly I needed it. Father wanted to teach me a lesson, and I’d already failed once today. I could not disobey him again.

He let go of my neck and I dropped to my knees, clutching at the wound with blood-slicked hands. The knife clattered to the ground and Father dragged the bucket over until it was right in front of me. He got to his knees at my side and his hand returned to its place at my nape.

I had no strength left, and as such Father had no issues shoving my face down into the cold water filling the bucket. The shock made me suck in a breath, sending water shooting up my sinuses and into my lungs. I instinctively coughed and tried to get any air at all, but that only made it worse. Forcing back against Father’s hand did nothing. My hands still refused to do anything to help me, as if something was holding them back, keeping them from acting against Father’s will. It wasn’t a conscious choice anymore; I needed to get out of this water, but they just wouldn’t listen. Shadows wouldn’t amass and do my bidding. I couldn’t go against him. I couldn’t fight back. I was helpless, and it was going to kill me.

Finally, Father pulled my head out of the bucket. I coughed and sputtered, wheezing any air I could through my water-logged throat. Please, god, let it be over.

“Because their throats were slit, they died in agony, drowning slowly in their own blood,” Father said. “It’s not a good experience, is it?”

I shook my head as best I could with his hand holding me in place.

“Do you understand yet, Jordyn? Do you know how you failed, and what your failure put those men through?”

“Y-yes, yes, I u-understand, sir.” It was the truth. I understood.

He pursed his lips. “See, I don’t think you do. Until you’ve experienced both of their pain, I really don’t think you can understand. You’ve already been cut twice, sure, but the drowning? I just don’t think you get it yet.”

My eyes went wide. Father dunked me under the water again.

It was too much. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Every single part of my body was in pain. My face throbbed relentlessly. My lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and my abs burned from the effort of trying to fight back. Every movement still sent a spike of anguish shooting through my chest. My back ached from bending over. The cuts on my belly stung endlessly. I just wanted it to end.

Father’s hand wasn’t moving. This was it; I was going to die. After everything I’d survived, I was going to die while getting taught a lesson because I was too stupid to understand a simple concept. Maybe I just wasn’t cut out for this life. Blackness swarmed around my vision, closing in. I accepted it.

Once again, right as I was teased with some sort of release from this agonising consciousness, Father ripped it away at the last moment. My head was pulled out of the water and Father finally released his grip. My body went slack without his support and I collapsed to the floor, knocking the bucket over as oxygen and feeling slowly returned to my tingling, dying body.

“Now, you understand,” Father said.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I was too busy trying to figure out how to breathe again.

“What do you say, Jordyn?”

Despite my overall lethargy, my brain kicked into overdrive trying to parse that question. Getting it wrong would mean this lesson wouldn’t be over yet. Father would still have to teach me more. He would have to take more time out of his day to discipline me for my stupidity. I needed to get this right; I needed to prove that I could be good for him in all the ways he deserved. I was lucky to get to even be in his presence.

“Th… thank you…” I rasped. “F-for… For helping me… u-understand…”

“Good girl.”

In the distance, I heard the door slide open. Mr. Sadler’s voice echoed around my head.

“Sir, we've finished- Oh. Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Father stood up. “Just dolling out some discipline. Don't worry, we just finished. What were you saying?”

“We've finished analysing that feather from the scene. You were right, it came from G-5’s wings.”

“Thought so. Seems that girl is dedicated to being a thorn in my side. No matter, we'll find out where she's hiding eventually. Then, Seven will take care of her. Won't you, Jordyn?”

I was too stupid to know what they were talking about, but it seemed prudent to reply with an affirmative. Unfortunately, I seemed to finally have lost control of my body, and all I could manage was a moan that sounded vaguely like a yes.

“Very good,” Father replied. “Now, patch yourself up and take a shower. You stink.” With that, Father and Mr. Sadler left my room, and I finally, finally, passed out.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme

Hope all those work correctly this time! post creator is ass at telling you if your tags are actually functional. Anyone who has any advice I could really use it!

Huuuuuge shoutout to @anoyedartist who did some awesome fanart of Jordyn that you can check out here. Go and give them some love!

Thanks sm for reading :) Don't be afraid to leave a comment and let me know what you thought! It sustains me. Reblogs also very appreciated :)

gonna do another chapter of my book before the next one so it'll be a bit of a wait again. Stay tuned!

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whump #whumpblr #living weapon whump #living weapon whumpee #conditioned whumpee #controlling whumper #knife whump #drowning whump #whump writing #dehumanisation #power dynamics #creative writing #superhero whump

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bamber344 · 5 months ago

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Whumpee intro: Jordyn's Training - 1

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heyo ik I said the updates for this would take a while but I wanted to get this out quickly so there was some actual whump to sink your teeth into for the story. the 'Jordyn's Training' arc was meant to just be one thing but this first section absolutely ballooned way bigger than I thought it would (just over 2k words) so it will most likely be a 4-parter

Anyway this series actually has a name now! it is Project Genesis, courtesy of my brain in the shower this morning; the birthplace of many great ideas.

Lemme know if you wanna be added to the tag list btw! chapter begins below the cut :3

CWs: broken bones, whipping, emotional manipulation, vomiting, blood, meal restrictions, mentions of recovery, female whumpee, male whumper, superpowered whumpee

(let me know if I need to CW anything else I forgot about!)

Jordyn's Training, part 1: The First Mistake

3 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

The obstacle course stretched out before me, vast and daunting. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t done before, but the fast-spinning metal poles and swinging wrecking balls never failed to make me anxious before I threw myself in for another go. I’d been hit by them more than enough to know how much they hurt. Still, this sort of training was necessary for my rehabilitation, so I steeled myself and prepared to do another run-through, aiming to beat my personal best under Father’s watchful eye.

It had been three months since I woke up in that room, cold and confused, lashing out at anything that moved. If not for Father, I would probably still be in that helpless, animalistic state. He took me in when no one else would, taught me how to speak, and read and write; how to be a functional human being again. I was in an accident, apparently, injured badly enough that when I woke my mind was completely blank, bare of even the most basic muscle memory. Father’s treatment may have fixed my body, but my mind still needed hands-on work; work that he tirelessly took upon himself. He spent countless late nights with me, speaking to me, reading to me, letting me get a feel for English again. He allowed me to lean on him while I was relearning how to walk. He spoon-fed me when I lacked the coordination to feed myself. There was still a lot that I didn’t know, and I got confused often, especially when he used bigger words, but he said that was okay. I didn’t need to know everything. So long as I did good, and he gave me that warm, tingly smile, nothing else really mattered.

Apparently, I used to be something called a ‘superhero’ before my accident. I would use this strange power I had to take down criminals and bring them to justice. If I ever wanted to be able to do that again, I needed to train. My body may have been passably functional, but it needed to be exceptional, or so Father said. He always smiled when he talked about me being a superhero again, so I knew that was where I needed to focus my efforts.

“Jordyn? What are you waiting for?” Father asked, his voice gravelly and stern.

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Sorry, Father. I was just preparing myself.”

He shook his head and something inside of me shrivelled up. “Not good enough, Jordyn. Do you think the criminals will wait for you to be ready? You need to do what I ask when I ask, not when you think you are ready.”

I clenched my fists, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “S-sorry, Father.”

“It’s alright, Jordyn. Now, go.”

I wasted no more time, charging forward as Father started the timer. I needed to do good on this to make up for my blunder before. Father had spent so much of his time and energy on me; I couldn’t let it all be for nothing.

The beat of my feet against the floor fell into a rhythm as I jumped, dodged, and dashed my way through the course. I’d been running it for over a month now, and it was quickly becoming second-nature. I knew exactly when to duck my head to avoid the spinning beams, how to deftly move between the wooden knives shot from the walls, and just which way I should step to avoid the pitfalls in the floor. The burn in my lungs and legs was distracting, but I didn’t let it slow me down. Just like Father always said: ‘Pain isn’t real.’

Something looked a little different about the second set of spinning poles, but I ignored it. The course was always the same every time I ran it; I was probably just thrown off because of Father’s reprimand. They always stung in a way I didn’t know how to deal with.

I leapt into the fray of rapidly spinning wooden beams, ducking the ones at head-height and hopping over the ones aiming for my legs. It took a little bit more focus to ensure I wasn’t hit this time; it seemed as though the poles were spinning faster than usual. Still, with all of my practice, I was making good time. My personal best wouldn’t know what hit it.

Crack!

Something slammed into my shin and my leg buckled from under me. That was fine, this wasn’t the first time I’d been knocked down. I made sure to roll out of the way of any on-coming beams so I had a safe spot to catch my breath in before continuing.

Then the pain hit, so hard and so strong that I immediately gagged from the shock, agony shooting up my leg like bolts of electricity. It was hard to breathe. Hot tears spilled from my eyes as overwhelmed sobs tore from my throat. I looked down at my leg to see what was hurting me so bad and almost threw up. My shin had already turned an ugly purple, and the rest of the limb below that point was twisted unnaturally. My heart lurched.

“F-FATHER! HELP!” I shrieked. The pain was too much; my entire body was locking up, too afraid to move in case I made it worse.

“What are you doing, Jordyn? Get up. Keep going.”

Disobeying his orders hurt almost more than my snapped leg, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. “I- I can’t! It hurts! Father, please!”

“That’s not good enough! Use your shadows, steel yourself! The course is not over until you complete it! Get up, girl! Your pain is not real!”

The thought of going on made me want to curl into a ball, but I did as I was told. Father’s orders came before all else, especially my own comfort. I owed him my life; a little pain meant nothing in the face of that. I reached out to the shadows around me, wrapping them around my injured leg like a splint. My skin turned black, sucking in all of the light around it, but the pain did lessen somewhat. A whimper escaped my lips as I forced myself up. Shards of agony stabbed my flesh every time I put weight on my leg, but it was manageable. I could move, albeit slowly. So much for beating my personal best.

It took an embarrassingly long time, but eventually I was able to limp my way to the end of the course, receiving more than a few extra bruises from the traps I was unable to dodge due to my injury. I collapsed at Father’s feet, dropping to my knees with my head hanging low as sweat dripped from my brow.

“That was disgraceful, Jordyn. Even your first attempt was better than that.”

I bit back a sob. “I’m s-sorry, Father. M-my leg, it-”

He grabbed a fistful of my short hair and tugged my head up, slapping me across the face. “I don’t care for your excuses. If you allow something as trivial as a broken leg to slow you down, the criminals out there will tear you to shreds. You should have learned by now how to use your power to protect yourself against this sort of thing without my instruction. I’ve already spent so much time healing you; I will be very disappointed if it turns out to all be a waste. Are you a waste of my time, Jordyn?”

“N-no Father! I’m not a waste!”

He let go of my hair, allowing me to sag back down to the floor. “Hm. I expect not. Remove your shirt.”

I blinked up at him. “F-Father?”

He struck me again, hard enough to whip my head to the side. “If you cannot even follow a simple order without talking back, how can I expect you to perform well in the field?”

I didn’t make the same mistake twice, pulling off the black, skin-tight garment as quickly as I could.

He nodded his head to the side, indicating a metal pole in the corner of the room, with two handles sticking out of it on either side. I’d yet to learn what purpose it served, but I had a feeling I was about to find out.

“Grab the handles of that pole and remain on your knees.”

I shuffled over with my head down, each drag of my injured leg across the floor causing tears to spring up in my eyes. The metal of the handles was cold under my palms, numbing my fingers. The rough floor dug into my knees uncomfortably. Father was moving around behind me, and every time it sounded like he was approaching, I inadvertently flinched and shied away. Anxious curiosity burned in the pit of my belly. What was this all about? I risked a question.

“Father, wh-what’s happening?”

“You need to learn how to ignore pain, Jordyn. The only way for you to do that is to experience it. It isn’t real; just chemical reactions in your brain. You must internalise that.”

“I- I don’t know what that means, Father.”

He ignored me. “While this is because you failed today, it doesn’t have to be a punishment, Jordyn. Consider it a lesson; a lesson on conquering pain. If you use your shadows to protect yourself from this, or let go of the handles at any point, I’ll have your other leg broken and forbid the medics from repairing it. Remember: pain isn’t real.”

“Father, I-”

SNAP

All of the air rushed out of me and a line of fire lit up across my back. It was so sudden that I couldn’t stop myself from crying out. Surely that wasn’t what he meant to-

SNAP

My stomach rolled uncomfortably as the strike shook my entire body. I couldn’t help but scream as the pain echoed through me.

“FATHER! FATHER, P-PLEASE STOP!”

“Be silent, girl! Who told you you could speak?!”

SNAP

His command overrode even my most basic need to express the utter agony I was in, and the following scream got caught in my throat. Shadows flickered and writhed underneath me, licking up my legs out of protective instinct before I forced them back down again, Father’s warning ringing in my mind.

SNAP

It felt like it would never end. My vision darkened at the edges. My abs clenched and a surge of bile spilled from my mouth. Warm blood dripped down the burning, torn skin of my back, my anguish heightening with each consecutive blow.

Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real Pain isn’t real

SNAP

Seconds passed, and no new wave of pain came. I gasped, sucking in as much air as I could to refill my lungs before it was all inevitably expelled again by another strike. My ears were ringing so loud I could barely hear anything and my entire body felt numb aside from the battlefield that was my back, which was still sending lancing aftershocks deep into my muscles even as time continued to press forward with no hint of the next lash.

“You may release the handles, Jordyn.”

I let go and my whole body went limp as I dropped to the floor into a puddle of my own blood and vomit. The movement sent arcing memories of fire through my torn-up skin, and a sob slipped from between my clenched teeth.

“Clean yourself up and report to the medbay when you are ready. After that, head straight to your room. Do not expect dinner.”

All I wanted was a warm meal and for the pain to stop. “Wh-whyyy?” I moaned.

“I will not reward mediocrity, Jordyn. You did poorly today, and as such, you will not be receiving dinner privileges until you beat your personal best again. Be better.”

His footsteps echoed as he walked out of the training room, leaving me alone to cry. This was my own fault. If only I’d been good like he wanted, he wouldn’t have had to hurt me like that. I never wanted to disappoint him like that again.

“I’m s-sorry, Father… I’m sorry.”

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star

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#Project Genesis whump series #whump #whumpblr #whump series #whump writing #living weapon whump #oc whump #superhero whump #female whumpee #cw broken bones #cw whipping #cw vomit

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bamber344 · 12 days ago

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not to toot my own horn or anything but that scene i just wrote was fucking banging

feels good after the slump of the past few days <3

#writeblr #writing #creative writing #project genesis whump series #writing memes #writers

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bamber344 · 2 months ago

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some reeeeaaaal juicy whump coming in this next chapter :3

i'm getting whumperflies just writing it.

should be finished soon, I promise!

#project genesis whump series #whump #whumpblr #whump writing

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bamber344 · 4 months ago

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Whumpee Intro: Jordyn's Training - 3

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I feel like this one took a really long time to write but tbf it is almost 3.5k words sooo

ik I said i'd include part 4 in part 3 but i wasn't expecting part 3 to balloon so much lol so you'll just have to wait again :3 chapter begins below da cut

CWs: Graphic violence, implied self-harm, controlling whumper, removal of autonomy, emotional manipulation, blood, light gore, electrocution (sorta), sensory deprivation of a sort

Jordyn's Training, part 3: Final Exam

9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

I paced back and forth in my room, going over anatomical structures and the body’s weak points in my head. Today was the day; my final combat exam until Father approved my deployment and I was allowed to work as a superhero on the streets again. I was so excited to finally go outside after so long cooped up in the facility! I wanted to learn what the sun felt like on my skin, and breathe in fresh air that hadn’t been filtered through the building’s air-conditioning system. My training had become particularly brutal ever since I started combat training, and Father had become twice as strict, but soon, all of that effort would be worth it.

I flicked my wrist, pulling a whip of shadow from the ground and lashing it forward at the empty air, imagining my target collapsing in a heap from my attack. Combat training usually involved practising with instructors or taking out a set number of dummies as quickly as possible, but today I would be fighting actual criminals. Hardened, violent bad guys, dead-set on cracking my skull open and spilling my brains across the floor, or so father said. The thought made my stomach swirl, but I’d been practising hard for three months, working myself to collapse day after day, building my muscles, studying cqc techniques, researching the structure of the human body to better understand how to take it down efficiently, taking hit after hit to further engrain Father’s mantra into my soul.

It was difficult. Regardless of whether or not pain was real, those injuries still affected me, still slowed me down, even if the sensation they were causing was fake. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t completely internalise the concept of pain not being real. Even after countless late nights spent digging knives into my skin to practise ignoring the sensation, I could just never block it out completely, and then the tears would inevitably come as well. I’d gotten better at holding back my emotions when things were upsetting me, just like Father wanted, but I still had some work to do. Even my other emotions were beginning to be marked ‘off-limits,’ like surprise and excitement. Father said that I needed to start suppressing them. Expressing emotion was a distraction, and I needed to keep them to myself. It was what everyone else did, apparently. I guessed I just still had a lot to learn about how to function as a person again.

The door opened and I immediately spun around, straightening my back and clasping my hands behind myself, standing at the ready. Father stood in the doorway, looking me over appraisingly.

“Are you prepared for the final exam, Jordyn?”

I nodded. “Yes, Father.”

He nodded in turn. “Follow me. I have something for you.”

I held back my curiosity as he left the room, falling into place a half-step behind him and to his right, as he’d been training me to do. We made our way through the hallways of the facility with purpose, scientists and other personnel ducking out of our path lest they be caught up in Father’s intimidating aura. I found it funny that they were all so afraid of him; the edge of my lip quirking up despite my attempt to hold back my grin. He was only scary when you made him angry or disappointed him in some way. As long as you were good, he would treat you with the respect you deserved. Granted, he had been smiling at me a lot less over the past few months, and he had barely touched me outside of painful reprimands ever since my early rehabilitation had finished, but that was simply because I didn’t need those things to motivate me anymore. Following Father’s commands was its own reward.

We reached a door and Father unlocked it with the keypad on the wall before entering. It was dark inside, but as the door slid closed behind us, a light turned on, illuminating the room, and the surprise that laid within.

A suit of hi-tech jet-black armour stood at the far end of the room, so dark that it seemed to absorb the light around it. I stepped closer, overtaken by awe, before glancing back at Father as if to confirm what I was thinking.

“It’s yours, Jordyn. It took a long time to finish. I trust you’ll take good care of it?”

“Y-yes, yes, of course. Th-thank you, Father,” I stammered out, tentatively reaching forward to touch the armour. The metal was cool under my fingers – strong and sturdy. The thought of donning it alleviated some of the apprehension I was feeling towards the exam. Even if I took a few hits, this could protect me. “Can… Can I put it on?”

“Go ahead. There are latches under the armpits.”

Sure enough, I found them right where he said, and when I pulled them, the armour opened up like a blooming flower; the front of the chestplate coming away in my hands as the arms and legs split apart at the front to make way for my limbs. The inside seemed to be padded with some soft material.

“Lightweight, sweat absorbent, self-cooling, and strong enough to stop a bullet from a sniper rifle,” Father said. “Designed to generate shadows between the joints regardless of light level to allow you to fight with your powers no matter the situation. Each piece can be removed separately, or it can all stand together as it is now. It’s a work of art, tailor-made to your exact measurements and requirements. You should be very grateful, Jordyn. This suit cost a lot of money to make.”

Grateful didn’t even begin to cover it. My entire body shook with excitement. “I- I don’t know what to say…”

“Put it on, Jordyn,” Father said, sounding a little impatient now. “Your exam begins soon. There will be consequences if you are late.”

That got me to move. I turned around and backed into the armour, pulling the chestplate into place until the latches clicked. It was a tight fit, but not uncomfortably so, pushing my breasts securely against my chest while still leaving enough room that it wasn’t suffocating or restricting. With that connected, I moved my arms and legs into their respective limbs of the armour and it closed around me, the seams sealing shut. Now fully closed in, I stepped forward. It was surprisingly easy to move in. I jumped up and down a couple of times just to test it, and it didn’t feel any different than if I’d been wearing my regular clothes. There was a mirror in the corner of the room. I approached it, anxious to see how I looked.

Usually, I made a point of avoiding mirrors. Between my unwillingly shaven head and the scar on my face that had become jagged and bumpy after getting infected thanks to my poor stitching job, they generally brought more pain than benefit. Today, however, it was easy to overlook all of that. The armour fit me like a second skin, following the contours of my body with only a little added bulk, aside from the neckline, which stretched almost all the way to my chin with protective plating. The darkness of it only seemed to deepen the blacks of my eyes and hair. I looked… intimidating. I supposed that was a good thing.

Father stepped behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. My heart jumped in excitement at the extremely rare touch, only to fall again when I realised I couldn’t feel it at all through the dark metal.

“Does it feel good?” he asked.

I nodded, tapping my fingers against my chest and noting how I couldn’t even feel them when I used force. It was a little disconcerting. While the armour certainly made me feel powerful and protected, I also felt… locked away from the outside world, in a way. Even more than I already was, stuck in the facility.

Father walked away, returning after a few seconds with something black in his hands. The helmet; the final piece of the armour. On the surface it looked like a simple chunk of smooth, mostly rounded metal, with no visible eyeholes, but I knew better than to believe that. The front-facing part had a ridge along where the eyes should be, and another travelling downward through the middle, giving the whole thing the affect of a menacing frown. I didn’t think I wanted to put it on with the way the rest of the armour was making me feel, but with Father’s clear insistence, I knew I had no choice.

I pulled the helmet over my head and the woman in my reflection disappeared; replaced by a faceless, dark soldier. Just as I’d thought; I could still see somehow. A number appeared in the corner of my vision, and I recognised it as my heart rate; 82 beats per minute. Apparently, the suit was monitoring my vitals somehow as well.

“From now on, you will wear this armour at all times, except for when you are in your room. Do you understand, Jordyn?”

Something inside of me sunk. I supposed I should have expected this. Of course I would need to wear my armour all the time to be an effective superhero. I just… didn’t like how I couldn’t see my face at all anymore. I didn’t like that I couldn’t feel the breeze of the air-conditioning, or the touch of my own skin when I hugged myself. Was this what it meant to be a hero? If so, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be one anymore. Still, I owed it to Father for saving me, and it was what he wanted.

“How will I eat?” I asked, my voice coming out deep and electronic-sounding. It made my gut wrench.

“The mouthpiece of the helmet can be removed. Now, answer the question, Jordyn. Do you understand?”

“I understand, Father.”

He smiled, and while it did make me feel all tingly like usual, it couldn’t hold back the shadow of regret hanging at the back of my mind like a noxious cloud. This was just my life now, I supposed. Free to move around the facility mostly at will; yet still locked behind a screen, unable to actually reach out and touch anything with my own fingers. It brought back memories I’d almost forgotten; of being surrounded by nothing but green, warm and protective, but keeping me secured away from the world beyond. Apparently, this was a recurring thing for me. I was better off just getting used to it.

—

I stood in the centre of the room, fists clenched, heartrate rising, waiting in horrible anticipation for the exam to begin. My rapid breathing was making the inside of the helmet humid and muggy, but there was no way I could take it off, considering the threat I was about to face. All of the doors were locked, and there weren’t any windows, but I knew Father was watching somehow. Sooner or later, one of those doors was going to open, and criminals would come pouring out, ready to slit my throat. I needed to be ready.

Sure enough, a buzzer went off, and a door in the far wall opened. Three people in orange jumpsuits stepped out - two men and a woman - peering around the room before focusing on me. They each carried a weapon; a tire iron, a knife, a baseball bat. Adrenaline rushed through my body and I dropped into a fighting stance, prepared to take them on.

None of them approached. They watched me, sizing me up and circling around cautiously, but no one moved in for an attack. I didn't understand. Weren't they supposed to basically be bloodthirsty animals? These people just looked… scared.

I remembered what Father had told me; about how I had to be aggressive when it came to criminals, and how they would hide their intentions behind a sob story and a sad expression. Just because these people looked scared didn’t mean they weren’t about to jump at me. I had to take the initiative. One of the men was the closest; a bald man with a beard. He was my first target.

I charged towards him, gathering shadows from the seams in my armour and balling them around my fist. He stumbled backwards in surprise at my rush, but I didn’t give him the opportunity to get away, sending a spike of darkness at his legs. It sunk into his knee with a horrible crunch and he screamed, dropping to the floor.

The attack got the other two moving, shocked out of their attempt to lull me into a false sense of security. The woman with the knife lunged, but I grabbed her wrist and twisted it around behind her, tugging and pulling her shoulder out of its socket before kicking her back to the ground.

Another door in front of me opened and three more orange-suited criminals came out. I was about to move towards them when something smashed me in the back of the head. I stumbled forward in a daze and turned to find the last man from the first batch, bat primed for another swing. My armour had defended me from the brunt of the hit, but the concussive force still had me stumbling, and the shock made my adrenaline spike even further. The bat came at me again, but this time I was ready, ducking under it and sending my fist into the man’s gut. He doubled over and I swept his legs out from under him, grabbing the bat on the way down and breaking his arm for good measure.

A hit to the back of my knee had my leg buckling, but I managed not to trip, turning and sending a wave of shadow out to make some space between myself and the next batch of enemies, launching them back a few feet. There were two in front of me, and-

The third appeared from outside of my vision and swung a crowbar into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. My fist shot out and slammed into his face in response, crushing his nose and probably a few teeth as well. Shadows lashed as he stumbled back, whipping about and cutting his arm almost all the way through. He screamed and dropped the crowbar. The sound made me feel sick.

Another door opened. More criminals rushed out. The other two were still coming at me. I pulled my shadows back and launched them at one man, sending him flying across the room. The other took the opportunity to jam a knife into the space between my shoulder and chest plates.

My muscles seized, pain rocketing through my arm. I cried out and my shadows flared, slashing through the air in front of me. There was another scream, and a spurt of blood obscured my vision. I stumbled back, frantically trying to wipe it off. I heard another door open. Something hit me over the head and I fell. I tried to roll away, tried to make some space, but my back hit a wall. My chest hurt. I wasn’t getting enough air. Something banged against the armour over my abdomen, then again, and again.

The lights went out.

I screamed, my shadows rampaging in the sudden darkness, tearing through flesh and breaking bone with reckless abandon. Black tendrils wrapped around my body, cutting into my skin and drawing blood. I cradled my head, curling in on myself and trying to regain any semblance of control over my powers. My helmet came off and I sucked in as much air as I could. I needed to get the armour off. It was suffocating me. My heart was going to explode. I scrambled at the latches under my arms, trying to find purchase on them with shaking, slippery fingers.

Just as quickly as they had turned off, the lights came back on again.

Everything was red.

Every person in the room aside from me was dead, lying scattered in pieces all over the place, blood and viscera painted across the floors and walls and my armour. I… I wasn’t supposed to kill them. I was only supposed to incapacitate them. This… It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I was going to fail. Father was going to be disappointed. The thought made the shadows in the room flicker angrily and I flinched away from them.

The door to the observation room opened and I yelped, sending lances of shadow flying towards the danger. The door quickly shut again, and a hissing sound filled the room. The scent of gore was quickly replaced with something sweet, and my eyelids grew heavy. I tried to stand up, but my legs weren’t responding. Darkness was closing in again. It… It was almost comforting now. I stopped fighting it and fell back against the blood-slicked floor, letting my eyes fall shut and succumbing to the encroaching sleep.

—

I woke up in my room, staring up at the ceiling. Pain radiated from my shoulder, and a headache was pounding against the inside of my skull, but overall, I seemed to be alright. That horrible choking panic was gone, and my skin felt fine where I’d thought my shadows were cutting me. Carefully, I lifted my head, looking down at myself. I was in my underwear with bandages wrapped around my injured shoulder, that black armour nowhere to be seen. It would be a lie if I said I was upset about that.

Father sat at my bedside, watching me with a sharp expression. My breath hitched, heart rate spiking. I’d failed the exam. I’d failed him.

“I’m disappointed, Jordyn. Such a strong start, only for you to lose your composure halfway through, and in such an explosive manner, too. You’re lucky that all of those prisoners were convicted death row inmates, or we would be in a lot of trouble right now.” He shook his head. “It’s clear. I’ve been too soft on you. I’ve allowed you too many freedoms. I’ve allowed this weakness to fester inside of you, and now I must cut it out.”

“B-but Father-”

My voice cut off as an incredible pain shot through my system, seizing up my muscles and arching my back. A strangled scream squeezed its way out of my throat. Arcs of burning agony travelled down my limbs through my nervous system, coalescing in one tiny, white-hot point in the back of my neck. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs unresponsive to any request for air. My tendons strained under the pressure being forced upon them. Muscle fibres tore and ripped. Joints creaked and groaned under the weight of my own body pulling itself apart. I was going to die.

Just as quickly as it began, the pain stopped. I slumped back onto the bed, panting and writhing, heart thundering in my ears.

“You will not speak to me out of turn, Jordyn. You will not act out of turn. If I do not order you to do something, you will not do it. You will not speak unless I order it. You will not eat unless I order it. You will not even go to the bathroom unless I order it. Do you understand?”

I shakily nodded, too scared to open my mouth lest the pain started again.

“If I order you to do something, you will do it immediately and without question. You will stay by my side at all times unless I tell you otherwise. You are not a person, Jordyn. You are a weapon. I created you to be the sword of my conquest, and I can just as easily discard you, just as I have discarded those who came before you. You are lucky that I have even given you a name. You are nothing more than the Seventh Attempt. There can just as easily be an Eighth.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying. None of it made any sense. ‘Created?’ ‘Seventh Attempt?’ I didn’t know what that meant. He was my Father; obviously he created me, right? I nodded along just to be safe, despite my lack of understanding.

Father sighed. “The next exam is in three months. Do not disappoint me again, seven.” He stood up. “You will remain in your room until I come and get you tomorrow. I suggest you spend your time thinking about exactly why you failed today.”

With that, he walked out. I watched the door shut behind him, the interior keypad’s screen turning red to signify the exterior lock. My ears rang. My chest hurt. My insides felt hollow. I looked back up at the ceiling and did my very best to keep my tears from falling out. Good soldiers didn’t cry, after all.

I couldn’t afford to fail him again.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

Things bout to get real tough for Jordyn i'm afraid. OH well more whump for the whump gods. At least she has some cool armour now. She's kinda like batman with a less cognitively dissonant plot when it comes to brutally maiming poor people

hope yall liked this one, wasn't too sure about a lot of it, especially the fight scene. It's hard enough to choreograph when it's just 2 people, let alone an entire crowd lol.

let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list! Thanks for reading!

#project genesis whump series #living weapon whump #superhero whump #whump #whumpblr #creative writing #wip #whump series #oc whump #living weapon whumpee #whump writing

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bamber344 · 5 days ago

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Secrets Below The Precinct

masterlist

uploading this at a random time because i have lost control of my life

anyway sorry this one took so long, it was a combination of slump and a longer chapter that stretched it out a bit, but i do hope the wait was worth it! It's Steve time B)

Enjoy!

CWs: discussions of abuse, minor suicidal ideation, food control, electrocution, references to pre-canon character death, references to sexual topics (masturbation)

Secrets Below The Precinct

“I- I just… I know we have a plan and everything, but we have no idea how long it’ll take, and the longer it takes, the worse things will get! There’s got to be something you could do to… I don’t know, speed things up a bit? Get some proper evidence that de Vygon is mistreating her?”

The desperate look on Vivienne’s face tugged at Steve’s heartstrings, but if he was being honest, he was a little lost about this whole thing.

He rubbed his eyes. “Hold on. Can you just… say that all again from the beginning? A little slower this time?”

She squinted at him from across the dining table in his tiny apartment. “Are… Are you hungover?!”

Given how much the hum from the refrigerator was irritating him, and considering how much he drank last night, that was likely. Still, he didn’t like being called out on it. “Maybe. But that’s not important right now. Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes!”

“Then repeat what you said, slowly, in a comprehensible speech pattern, please.”

Vivienne sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You know how we theorised that de Vygon was hurting Seven back when she got shot?”

“Yes?”

“Well, now I have confirmation that he is. She literally admitted it to me! She- She was crying and drunk because one of his friends forced her to drink, and she said that he would hurt her if she didn’t get back to the fucking facility underneath the precinct where she lives!!”

Steve blinked at her.

“And… she just told you all of this? Despite the fact that that sounds like something de Vygon would definitely have told her not to talk about?”

“Like I said, she was drunk. Super drunk. Sobbing into my shoulder drunk. Why don’t you believe me?!”

He sighed, standing up to go get a glass of water. “I do believe you. The problem is that I wish I didn’t.”

Despite the fact that his back was turned, he could practically hear the confusion on Vivienne’s face. “Huh?”

He filled a glass from the sink and took a long gulp, draining it. He placed it on the counter and turned back. “Do you remember what happened last year? My so-called ‘psychotic break?’”

Vivienne frowned. “Uh, yeah?”

“Well, with all of this Seven stuff coming up, I’m starting to think I wasn’t just hallucinating that night. I saw something that shouldn’t have existed, but it did, and de Vygon ruined my life for it. And you know where that ‘something’ came from? Underneath the fucking precinct. Whatever he’s doing down there, he doesn’t want it getting out. If you go poking the beehive, you’re gonna get stung. You could lose everything. Your degree, your apartment, your reputation. He almost left me on the fucking streets, Viv, and that was after convincing me what I saw wasn’t real. Don’t underestimate him.”

His niece looked at him like he was crazy. It was a sight he was used to. “What are you talking about? What did you see?”

Steve looked away, staring into the middle distance as that night came back to him once again. “Two girls, running out of the precinct. One was about your age, the other was… early teens, maybe. Both of them had shaved heads, dressed in this weird black get-up. The older one had these huge wings. The weirdest part, though… Both of them looked like…”

He hesitated. Maybe… maybe Vivienne didn’t need to know every little detail. Telling her they both looked like her dead friend would just hurt her; make her even more hellbent on finding the truth. What were the odds that he even saw what he thought he saw? Some things were just better left unsaid.

“They both had the exact same face,” he decided, “like they were twins. Only, that wouldn’t make sense, because of the age difference.” He shrugged. “I dunno. I haven’t been able to make sense of it. Take it with a grain of salt, I guess. I might still be crazy.”

“Wings…” Vivienne muttered. “Like… like the one that shot Jordyn?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Jordyn?”

“Oh, um… that’s Seven’s real name. She told me when she was drunk.”

“Well, I can only assume the bird lady was the person who shot her. Assuming I even saw anything.”

“B-but, so, you agree, right? Something weird is going on down there?”

“I guess. But, like I said, you are not going to look into this. De Vygon’s not the kind of man you mess with, especially not with your whole life ahead of you.”

“But we have to do something! You saw a literal child escaping from there! Who knows what kind of stuff he does to Jordyn behind closed doors? Who knows how much we don’t even know yet?!”

“I said no, Vivienne. I won’t help you ruin your life. If you really want to do something, go ask the Union.”

“I already told you, their plan will take too long! If we wait until we get a chance to invite her to the Union, it might already be too late! I can’t stand the thought of her suffering any more than she already clearly has!” She clenched her fists, tears building in the corners of her eyes. “What’s the point of… of even being a hero in the first place if I can’t help someone when they need me?”

Steve looked at his niece. He saw the pain in her brown eyes; the righteous anger burning behind them and contorting her freckled face. There was a fire raging inside of her. Where on earth did she get it from? It certainly wasn’t from his brother.

One thing was clear: Vivienne wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he said he wouldn’t help, she would just ask the next person, and the next, and the next, until finally getting fed up and no doubt trying to go through with it herself. He couldn’t let that happen. She had too much to lose.

All Steve had left to lose was his niece.

He let out a sigh that shook the dust off of the very foundations of his being. “I’ll think about looking into it, okay? Just- please. Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”

Her face lit up like the sunrise after a cold, lonely winter’s night. “You mean it?!”

“I said I’ll think about it.”

Vivienne grinned, suddenly teleporting over to the other side of the table so that she could hug him. “Thank you so much! Let me know when you make up your mind, okay? We’ll go in together.”

Steve stared up at the ceiling, still wrapped up in his niece’s arms. It was a nice thought; doing it together. The hero and the detective, working together to help put a stop to a corrupt police captain and his evil machinations, or whatever. Her powers would probably give them a fighting chance if push came to shove down there. They could do some real good, together.

He would think about it.

—

It didn’t take much thought.

He made up his mind laying in bed that night, staring out the window and thinking about everything. There was no way he could bring Vivienne with him. If this was happening, he needed to do it alone. He wasn’t wrong about it being the chance to finally do something good with his life, but he wasn’t going to drag his niece down with him when it inevitably went wrong. She had far too much to lose.

It occurred to him that this decision may very well mark the end of his life. De Vygon could easily have him killed for poking his nose where it didn’t belong, all because his niece didn’t know when to give up. But, in the reality of the situation, where it was a clear-cut choice between sacrificing himself for this, or letting Vivienne get herself killed, it was an easy decision to make. His life was pretty much over, anyway. Vivienne was the only member of his family he still spoke to. He had no spouse, no kids, no friends, a tiny apartment, and a dead-end job. Really, there just wasn’t that much to live for. Why not go out in a blaze of glory, sticking it to the man who ruined his life and maybe saving an abuse victim in the process? It was as good a way to go as any.

With that decision made, now all he needed was a plan.

—

George Sadler yawned, leaning against a support rail in the elevator, heading back up to the precinct. For once, he’d been lucky enough to not get a night shift, but with the way his schedule had messed him up, he was still pretty tired. All he wanted was to get home, say hi to his cat, and go to bed.

His phone chimed with an alert as the elevator came to a stop, and he went to check it as he stepped out. Of course, it was just his luck that someone happened to be standing right in his path as he did so.

George crashed into them, tripping over and collapsing to the ground in a heap.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

The person grabbed him, pulling him up to his feet, probably a little rougher than was strictly necessary. He readjusted his glasses as he straightened out and came face-to-face with one of the detectives.

“Y-yes, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Thank you for your help, Mr…?”

The man glanced to the side briefly before looking back. “S-Smith. Robert Smith.”

George nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Smith. I should get going, but you have a good evening, alright?” He turned, making his way to the front entrance.

“You too!” Robert Smith called. What a nice man.

George left the building and got into his car, turning on the ignition. The radio started up, filling the space with electric guitar and whiny vocals, just the way he liked it. The Cure was always the best way to end a shift.

…

Wait.

Robert Smith?!

—

Steve smirked, looking at the clearance badge he’d just swiped off of that dorky guy. That was much easier than he’d been expecting.

“Thank you, George Sadler. You’ve made my night that much easier,” he muttered, reading the name off of the badge.

Now for the hard part.

Steve got on the elevator and swiped the card through the reader next to the buttons. The bottom two, which usually remained dark and inactive, lit up. Bingo.

They were unmarked, so Steve just pressed the top one and hoped for the best. The elevator started moving, quietly descending into the earth and sealing his fate. He didn’t doubt for a second that there was a camera watching him right at that moment. There was no getting out of it anymore.

His heartbeat echoed in his ears, his stomach swirling so bad he felt like he might throw up. He needed to get himself in check. The only way he was going to actually get what he needed would be if no one tried to stop him, and for that, he needed some damn confidence. Fake it till you make it, as they say.

The elevator arrived at its destination, and Steve’s heart leapt into his throat in time with it. He forced it down as the doors opened, keeping his back straight and his stride bold as he picked a direction at random and started walking. The place didn’t look that different from the precinct upstairs; just a whole lot of corridors lined with fluorescent lights and linoleum floors. The only real difference was how clean and orderly everything was.

Sure enough, his feigned authority masked the fact that he clearly wasn’t supposed to be there, and aside from a few stray glances, no one that he passed stopped him. Just like most of the people he’d seen come out of the elevator, including old Georgie-boy, a lot of them were dressed in lab coats. If he wanted to blend in better, it might be a good idea to find a spare one somewhere. First things first, though; he should find a map.

Thankfully, there was one nearby, plastered on a wall. Steve examined it, trying to get a picture in his head of where he was.

Most of it seemed pretty innocuous; things like ‘mess hall, boardrooms, offices, labs, supply closet,’ but then there were rooms like ‘training halls, medbay, examination room, subject housing, tech development,’ and, most worryingly, ‘penalization room.’ Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to know what went down in there. He took a picture of the map on his phone just to be safe, and started heading towards the training halls.

He passed by the supply closet on the way and checked inside. Sure enough, there were spare lab coats in there. He grabbed one and shrugged it on over his dress shirt. Hopefully that should give him a little bit more of a plausible excuse should anyone stop him.

Following the map, he made his way over to the training halls. Most of them seemed devoid of life as he passed, glancing in through the observation windows, though some of them were filled with various set-ups clearly designed for… well, training. Obstacle courses, punching bags, weapon racks lining the walls; the works. One room, however, seemed to have attracted a small crowd of scientist-looking people, all peering in through the window.

His curiosity piqued, Steve crept up behind them to see what they were looking at.

“Augh!”

A choked cry came from beyond the window as Seven, clad in her black armour, was launched across the room by a single punch from a simply-dressed man. Well, simply-dressed aside from the massive gauntlets covering his fists, clearly the source of whatever just sent Seven flying.

“On your feet!”

De Vygon was there too, directly observing Seven from within the training room, with his hands clasped behind his back and a judgemental, unhappy look on his face. Clearly, his ward wasn’t performing to his expectations. Steve subtly pulled out his phone and started filming the scene.

Seven shakily lifted herself up, grunting and audibly wincing all the while. “I- I don’t understand why I’m doing this. No one I fight on the street is going to be equipped with this sort of-”

All of a sudden, her body seized up and she screamed, collapsing to the ground in a writhing heap while clutching the back of her neck. Shadows flickered out of her armour, licking across the floor impotently, trying to do anything to stop the agony she was so clearly in.

“What have I told you about backtalk?!” de Vygon yelled. “Are you really so stupid that you haven’t learned your lesson yet?”

“I- I- I’m s- s- SORRYYYYIIIIEEEEE!!” Seven screeched, her voice changer morphing the cry into a garbled, electronic wail as her back arched from the pain.

Steve caught it this time. He noticed the subtle unclenching of de Vygon’s fist as Seven’s body went limp and the screaming stopped. Whatever he did to her just now, it looked like he had total control over it with a simple gesture. Vivienne was right. This whole situation was messed up.

“On your feet,” de Vygon repeated. “Do not make me ask again, or you’ll be missing out on dinner tomorrow as well as tonight!”

The sound of electronic sobbing filled the room as Seven struggled to stand. Steve considered himself a pretty jaded guy in general, but even he couldn’t stand to watch this without his stomach crawling. The fact that all of these scientists were just passively observing this horrific abuse made him sick.

He’d seen enough, and that recording should be as good evidence as any that something wasn’t right here. He needed to move on before de Vygon turned around and saw him.

Steve made his way back towards the elevators. If it was up to him, he would have quit while he was ahead and bailed right then and there. Vivienne probably wouldn’t be happy with just the recording though, and if they were gonna stand a chance against de Vygon’s army of lawyers and rich friends, they needed more. He wasn’t sure he could find any better evidence than what he’d just witnessed on this floor, but the next floor down was still a mystery. At least he knew for certain that de Vygon wasn’t there right now. It was worth a shot.

Thankfully, the elevators were still free, and he was able to get in and press the button without any issues.

At least, no issues up until that very moment.

Right as the doors were about to close, a hand slipped in between them, forcing them back open. Steve’s heart leapt into his throat as a woman entered the elevator and settled in next to him without pressing any buttons.

The doors closed. The elevator began moving down. Steve remained silent, praying he wasn’t sweating too noticeably.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” the woman said.

Steve cleared his throat, stalling for long enough to formulate a response.

“Uh, y-yeah. I’m new here.”

“Oh? I didn’t know Andreas was still hiring new staff. The name’s Cheryl.” She held out her hand.

“A- Arthur,” Steve replied as he shook her hand, remembering how lucky he got with the ‘Robert Smith’ slip-up earlier. No more naming himself after celebrities; that was a sure-fire way to get caught.

“You seem a little nervous. Complete all your training, dear?”

Steve nodded, hoping that an affirmative would get this woman to leave him alone. “You know how it is. First day jitters and all.”

“Oh, I get it. Well, don’t worry, we’re pretty laid-back here. I mean, most of the work’s already done, y’know? Now it’s just on us to keep things running smoothly, and have a back-up ready in case something happens to G-7. I’m actually heading down to R&D to check up on the subjects in stasis right now. If you want, you can come with me? Get comfortable with how things are run? If not, I don’t think anyone’s manning the surveillance desk right now.”

While the offer was tempting - Steve very much wanted to know what a ‘subject in stasis’ was - it was probably safer to turn her down. Besides, how was he supposed to collect evidence with this chatty woman watching his every move? He would just have to make do at the surveillance desk.

…Wait, the surveillance desk!

Ever since he first stepped onto the elevator, Steve had resigned himself to the fact that he probably wouldn’t live past the next week or so. Not an easy thing to accept by any means, but it was made easier by the fact that if he hadn’t, Vivienne would be taking his place. Even if no one noticed right away, the camera footage of his incursion would no doubt spell his demise sooner or later.

With access to the surveillance desk though, he could delete any evidence of his presence, and so long as no one recognised him before he got out, he could get away scot free!

It was dangerous to get his hopes up, but Steve couldn’t help it. If he made it out, he was gonna turn his life around, starting with finding a new job. Fuck working under de Vygon any longer than he had to.

“Uh, I’ll just take the surveillance desk, thanks.”

Cheryl shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The elevator opened to a dim room illuminated by a large array of monitors. The surveillance desk, presumably. Cheryl made a beeline for a door across the way, labelled ‘subject development,’ and disappeared through it. Hopefully, that would keep her busy long enough for Steve to get what he needed.

Steve sat down at the desk, looking up at all of the monitors. Most of them displayed CCTV footage of different parts of the facility, but the one directly in front of him was just showing a screensaver. He wasn’t an expert with computer stuff, but he knew a decent bit, and if he had to guess, that computer was probably the one that controlled all of the cameras and managed their recordings.

He moved the mouse a bit, and the computer woke up, asking for a password. Steve cursed under his breath, looking around the desk for anything that might be a clue. Thankfully, he found a notepad in the top drawer that had exactly what he needed.

So you don’t forget: password for the computer is ‘ProjectGenesis’

“Probably could have guessed that…” Steve muttered, inputting the password.

The desktop was pretty sparse, but one thing did catch his eye: a text document titled ‘PG_subject_notes_MASTER_FILE_DO_NOT_EDIT.txt.’ He made a mental note to check it once he was done deleting the backed up camera footage.

To that end, Steve un-minimised the camera control program that was already open in the taskbar, did a little digging until he could find where the recordings were being saved, and deleted the last hour of them from every feed just to be safe. Then, he made sure to turn off the camera in the elevator to cover for his escape. It wasn’t a perfect plan by any means, but it was better than nothing.

Now, to check out that file. He double-clicked on the shortcut, and the document opened.

—

PROJECT GENESIS SUBJECT NOTES

Subject G-1

Formation was promising, but subject was found to be brain-dead upon release from formation tank. Subject disposed of. (note: in the future, remember to periodically wake the subjects up during formation! It helps with brain development, especially past the foetus/newborn stage. - John)

Subject G-2

Initial results promising! Subject came out of formation tank awake and aware, though notably disorientated. Moving on to physical habilitation.

Two weeks in, and the subject seems to be distressed. She doesn’t believe the story Andreas has told her about why she’s in such poor condition. Demanding to see her wife.

Subject is deceased. It appears the presence of the Source’s memories caused her to panic. She broke the mirror in her accommodations and slit her throat with it. Body disposed of. In future, subject should be a blank slate for more receptive programming.

(won’t that slow down the project? Then we would have to worry about mental habilitation as well as physical. - Hana)

(It’s a necessary adjustment. The project will never go anywhere if we can’t even control our own subjects. Memories leave too much of the Source’s personality intact to be reliable, even if it saves time. - Andreas)

(Also, just a suggestion, but it might be a good idea to give the subjects actual names, instead of numbers. It could help provide a sense of normalcy that will endear them to us. I’m sure Two didn’t appreciate being called ‘Two’ all the time. - George)

Subject G-3

Subject deceased. Mistake in protein levels during development resulted in stunted growth. Subject couldn’t support itself outside of formation tank. Body disposed of.

(Whoever’s fault this is, rest assured I will find out, and you will be sternly reprimanded! This mistake just cost us hundreds of thousands of dollars! - Andreas)

Subject G-4

Initial results promising. Birth went off without a hitch, subject development falling under all expected parameters. Subject named ‘Gwen.’ Moving onto mental and physical habilitation.

Two months in. Habilitation is progressing well. Subject can walk, talk, read and write, and do basic arithmetic. Power is expressing itself as some sort of superspeed, though the subject is struggling to control it. Locomotive training starting soon.

Training is progressing well, though subject still struggles to control her power. Obstacle course times are slower than Andreas would prefer, slowed down further by injuries from subsequent punishments.

Subject deceased. Twisted her ankle on the course and broke her neck in the fall. Body to be disposed of.

(I can’t believe it. She was doing so well! What happened out there? - George)

(I may have pushed her too hard too soon. We will take this into consideration for future subjects. - Andreas)

(Still, it would be a shame for her to go to waste. She was our first promising subject, after all! We should build off of it! Why don’t we

[CONTENT REDACTED]

Upon further examination, subject’s DNA was found to be slightly corrupted. May be the potential cause for programming and development issues found in subjects G-5 and G-6.

(I’m putting a stop to second-generation testing effective now, and disposing of any remaining subjects/samples from the program. It’s too risky, and has no discernible benefits. From now on, it’s back to basics. With all we’ve learned, I’m sure the next subject will be our winner. Let’s give it our all, team. - Andreas)

Subject G-7

Subject off to a promising start. Development and Birth stats falling within expected parameters. Given the name ‘Jordyn.’ Her power to control shadows seems to have a lot of potential, but has proven to be dangerous if it gets out of control. (Get well soon Ben!)

Physical and Mental habilitation successful. Subject is receptive to orders and seems to enjoy carrying them out. Programming successful. Subject has a notably softer personality than previous subjects. Sensitive and prone to fits of crying. A gentler, positive-affirmation approach may be beneficial to future training.

(I will not coddle her for subpar results. Delete that note. - Andreas)

Locomotive training through the obstacle course has proven effective, though not without hiccups. Heavy punishments slowed down training, though have been successful in “toughening her up,” as Andreas put it. Less prone to outbursts and tantrums, though they remain an infrequent issue. Subject seems eager to please Andreas, despite diminishing rewards when she does so. A good sign for her conditioning. Combat training beginning soon.

Subject excelling at combat training, despite an apparent dislike for the activity. Easily appeased by the promise of a larger portion at dinner for good performance, however. Crying fits not an issue anymore, though subject occasionally speaks out of turn when she doesn’t understand something or has conflicting thoughts on a situation to what Andreas has provided. Will continue to monitor.

Subject failed her first combat exam. Upon sustaining an injury, the subject panicked, causing her shadows to rampage when the lights went out as part of the test. Every prisoner used for the test was killed. Andreas resorted to use of the ‘correction chip’ as a reprimand. Long-term effects of chip use haven’t yet been studied, but subject is showing no adverse side effects so far. Still, it’s recommended to keep use of the chip to a minimum.

Subject passed second combat exam. Subsequently deployed in Tombguard. Subject displayed fascination with the outside world, but maintained composure. Had a minor encounter with a monster, where subject displayed a fear response. Potential holdover from the Source? Need to study more.

The night after her first day out of the facility, the subject exhibited some as of yet unseen behaviours. Subject engaged in masturbation after waking up in the middle of the night, and was subsequently targeted by the Godling. Exact specifics surrounding the incident are unknown due to a camera malfunction, though subject suffered no major injuries.

(Edited the note. Can we please try to be professional about this? ‘Straight up jorkin it’ is not appropriate note-taking etiquette. - Hana)

The subject has taken well to deployment, and has proven effective in her police work. Continuing to monitor.

Subject still exhibiting minor rebellious behaviours despite frequent reprimand, such as talking back to Andreas and failing to carry out orders. Punishments remain effective as a temporary preventative measure, though they can hinder performance.

—

Steve blinked, coming back to himself as he stared at the bottom of the page. It was strange that Seven’s notes ended there, with no mention of the shooting or anything past that. Either the research team just decided to stop taking notes there, or this document wasn’t the most recent version. That, or de Vygon was trying to keep something hush-hush. With the way that the entries for G-5 and G-6 were expunged, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Still, this was a lot to take in, and not a lot of it made much sense to him. What were the subjects? What was this ‘Source’ that kept being mentioned? What did they mean by ‘development?’ As far as he could gather, Project Genesis seemed to be some sort of genetic modification program, taking people and wiping them clean for whatever purpose Andreas had. That didn’t explain what ‘foetus/newborn stage’ meant, though. Unless the program was literally modifying these people from birth. But surely that would take decades, right? There was no way the program had been running for that long.

One thing was certain, though. The notes for these experiments clearly documented the unethical treatment and deaths of multiple people, all before Seven even came along. A jury would eat this stuff right up, if they could just get it to court. Of course, the notes themselves wouldn’t be enough by a long shot, but it was a start. A single spark to light the roaring fire of justice, as it were.

Steve smirked to himself. Rosalyn Garcia-Holmes would be proud.

He pulled the USB he’d brought just in-case out of his pocket, and plugged it into the computer, copying the document over. Once it was transferred, he pocketed it again and made for the elevator. No need to stick around for any longer than he had to.

Thankfully, no one intruded on him this time, and he was able to ride all the way back to the surface without any issue.

Now, he just had to wait and see if anything would come back to bite him.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

Thanks for reading! My head's all over the place right now so i don't have much to say here. hope you enjoyed! lemme know what you thought with a comment or reblog, it's very appreciated :)

see you next time for a little interlude with our favourite murder birdie

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whump writing #living weapon whump #detective whump #creative writing #writeblr #whumpblr #whump

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bamber344 · 3 months ago

Text

Till Death Did Us Part (Madeline intro)

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masterlist

Chapter takes place concurrently with the previous chapter; Jordyn's Deployment

New character POV time! Like I said in the prologue, Jordyn's POV is the only one in first person; the rest of them are in third limited. Hopefully it's not too confusing!

Heed the warnings on this one! No physical whump, but this babe ain't doing too hot (she's where the 'sad women' bit on the masterlist description comes from) and the chapter touches on some of the darker parts of her mental state. Nothing extremely explicit, but it might be triggering for some so I wanted to make sure. Stay safe! Chapter begins below the cut.

CWs: frequent references to pre-canon character death, mentions of alcoholism, slight allusions to self-harm, suicidal ideation, mentions of transphobia (misgendering). I think that's it, but let me know if I forgot anything!

Till Death Did Us Part

The sound of her phone buzzing on her nightstand forced Madeline out of a sleep she desperately didn’t want to wake from. She didn’t want to greet the day that awaited her; perfectly content to just lay there, hiding under her covers until the calendar ticked over to the next date along. She didn’t want to face the realities that today would force upon her. If she just closed her eyes and drowned everything out, she could pretend none of the past five years ever happened; that Rosie was just in the bathroom, and would come back to bed at any moment.

Her phone rang again, and Madeline grumbled, reaching over to answer it.

“Leave me alone, Viv,” she muttered hoarsely into the receiver.

“Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, huh?” Vivienne replied.

Anger flared in Madeline’s gut. “Don’t fucking poke me today, Vivienne. Not today.”

There was a silence over the phone. “I… I’m sorry, you’re absolutely right. That was mean. I was just… trying to lighten the mood, I guess. Sorry.”

Madeline sighed. “What do you want?”

“I was just checking up. I know today’s difficult for you. Want me to come over? I can make breakfast.”

Breakfast meant getting out of bed. It meant waking up and coming face to face with the truth of the day. It also meant scrambled eggs with bits of ham and cherry tomatoes. A difficult choice, to be sure.

At the continued silence of Madeline’s internal debate, Viv dug deeper. “Come on, you know Rosie wouldn’t want you to rot in bed all day.”

All the assumption did was stoke the fire inside of her. “Don’t presume to know what she would want.”

“You know I’m right, though. Come on, you won’t even have to do anything. I’ll even do the dishes after. Please?”

The thing that sucked was that she was right. The last thing Rosie would want would be for Madeline to waste her life mourning her. She groaned loudly, making sure that Vivienne could hear her dissatisfaction.

“Fine.”

Immediately, Vivienne appeared at the side of Madeline’s bed. She was used to the sudden teleportation by now, but it still annoyed her how quickly she showed up. She wanted at least a little more time to pretend she didn’t exist before being forced to interact with anyone.

“Come on, snowball. Up you get.”

Madeline groaned again, burying her face in the pillow. “Get out of my room.”

“Say please.”

Madeline grabbed a spare pillow and hucked it at Vivienne, who teleported to the other side of the room and pulled the covers off of the bed in retaliation.

“Oh my god, you’re naked!”

“Karma,” Madeline muttered, a smile tugging at her lips. She would never admit it, but Viv’s antics were a little amusing.

“Fine, I’ll give you a few minutes!” Viv called, now on the other side of the bedroom door. “Don’t take too long, though. Breakfast will be ready soon!”

Madeline sighed, sinking back into the pillow to enjoy her last few moments of restful bliss.

—

“So, what are your plans for today?”

Madeline shrugged, running a hand through her dirty-blonde mullet and pulling the tangles out of it. It had been an impulse choice of haircut made in a half-drunken, half-miserable stupor, but she would be lying if she said she hated it. It added to her butchy vibe. “I dunno. Visit Rosie’s grave, I suppose. Cry a lot. Drink myself to sleep again.”

Vivienne frowned. “Come on, Maddie. you agreed to stop doing that.”

“What are you, my mom?”

“No, I actually care about your wellbeing.”

Madeline snorted. “You’ve got me there.”

They were sitting at the kitchen counter, finishing the scrambled eggs Viv had made. By now, Madeline was well and truly awake, and that really sucked. But, time waited for no woman, and today would have happened, whether she got out of bed or not. Today was the five-year anniversary of Rosalyn Garcia-Holmes’ death, and sleeping in wouldn’t change that. It would just protect Madeline’s consciousness from having to recognise that she’d been a widow for five years for just a few hours longer. Kicked out of home at 14, married to her childhood best friend at 18, widowed by a monster attack at 21, semi-recovering alcoholic and washed up superhero at 26. What a shit-crock of a life.

Okay, maybe ‘washed up’ was being a little harsh on herself. As far as superheroes went, she was respected for her work. Though she was currently on indefinite hiatus for mental health reasons, she was technically the co-leader of the Heroes Union, and the other heroes did value her opinions, whenever she was present to give them. The problem was that she wasn’t really doing anything else with her life. Vigilantism was generally looked down upon, and would get heroes arrested if they tried to do it with any degree of frequency, given their solid lack of secret identities. They were allowed to step in in the case of violent crime, but they had no real power to arrest, just protect. Most hero work was just fighting off monster attacks and helping rescue civilians in the aftermath of any disasters, which left them with a lot of free time. Of course, there were the occasional villains that showed up, using their powers for their own gain and too dangerous for the police to go near, but in a city like Tombguard, with all of its heroes, most would-be villains had the good sense to try their luck elsewhere.

All that was to say; Madeline didn’t have a job. ‘Freeloader’ was a common pejorative used for superheroes by people who didn’t like that their taxes supported the Union, but in her case, they were right. She spent all of her time moping around, occasionally doing some work when the Godling decided to make another lamppost sentient or whatever - and then spent all of her leftover Union paycheck (after rent and food and other basic necessities) on alcohol and weed. In an ideal world, she would actually be contributing something to society; working a job, and then popping out to kick some flesh-and-stone creature’s butt when the city needed her, but she just… Wasn’t Doing That. At the very least, she could take a more active role in her hero work; go on patrols, monitor the city, help little old ladies cross the street. Do some actual volunteer work if she couldn’t find a paying job. Life was just a mess at the moment, and though she felt like she was slowly getting better, she still really just missed her wife, and it was exceedingly hard to move past that grief. Especially on days like today.

Viv put a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. “You know what we should do? Go on patrol.”

Madeline raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you haven’t left the house in a week. Come on, it’ll be fun! We’ll get some sunlight, do some parkour, feel the wind rushing through our hair!” Her voice lowered from its jubilance, becoming quieter; more sympathetic. “Once we’ve had enough we can stop by to see Rosie, alright?”

Madeline looked her in the eye, trying to see through her milk-chocolate irises to the intention underneath. “Why do you care so much about me? Why go out of your way for me like this? I don’t get it.”

The question gave Vivienne pause. She sighed, reaching up and putting her hand on the top of Madeline’s head.

“Because you’re my friend, you numbskull.” She ruffled Madeline’s hair. “I’m not just gonna drop you because you’re having a hard time. I care about you, and I’m not gonna stop caring when it becomes difficult. You were always there for me when I joined the Union, even through my worst days. Now, it’s my turn to do the same for you. Everyone needs a little helping hand sometimes.”

Madeline looked down at her empty plate, tears threatening to form in her eyes. “I… Thanks, Viv. I’m really glad to have you as a friend, even if… I don’t always act like it.”

“Likewise,” Viv replied, playfully punching her shoulder. “Now, suit up! Let’s go!”

Madeline raised an arm and sniff-checked her armpit. “Yeah, that’s not happening until I shower.”

—

Alright, Madeline could admit when she’d been wrong. Being out in the sun was pretty damn nice. It was a beautiful day, and putting her costume on for the first time in weeks felt great, even if it didn’t fit quite as well as it used to on account of the muscle she’d lost lazing around. The wind tousled her hair as she ran and leaped from building to building, her arms and legs singing with exertion and endorphins, heart racing in her chest. She felt alive. A laugh bubbled up from deep within her as she summoned a platform of ice beneath her feet, using it to launch herself up to a higher ledge and vault over, landing in a roll on the next roof.

“Woohoo!” Viv called as she did a backflip off the next ledge, only to miss the landing and fall in between the buildings. She reappeared back on the roof and laughed. “Oops, messed that one up.”

Madeline shook her head fondly. “Teleportation has made you far too reckless.”

Viv wiggled her hips, poking out her butt. “Hey, if you got it, you gotta flaunt it.”

Madeline raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’ve ‘got it’? Because the only thing I see is a flat washboard.”

Viv blew a raspberry, flipping her off. “My ass is great and you know it.”

Madeline chuckled. “Sure. I-”

“Hey, stop! Thief!”

The shout caught both of their attention. They shared a look and walked to the edge of the roof, peering over the street, where a man was running in their direction, groceries clutched in his arms.

“Shoplifter,” Madeline observed. “None of our business.” It would be hypocritical of her to go after him, anyway; she’d had no qualms stealing food to feed herself in the past. She understood the plight.

“Man’s gotta eat,” Vivienne said.

Madeline had seen all she needed to see. They were about to turn away when another commotion set off near the intersection. A figure in black leapt from the passenger door of a car and sped down the sidewalk towards the man, moving faster than a regular human had any right to. Their black armour glinted in the sunlight as they crashed into him, tackling him to the ground and pinning his arms behind his back.

“Who the hell is that?” Viv asked.

Madeline shrugged. “I dunno. Their armour looks pretty expensive, though.”

An older man walked up, hands behind his back. Viv groaned. “Ew, I hate that jerk.”

Andreas de Vygon was a loud and proud anti-unionist and a staunch hater of superheroes of all types. Also, a police captain with a history of unsavoury allegations, all covered up by his rich friends. ‘Jerk’ was putting it kindly, in Madeline’s experience. Though, from the way he was acting around this new person, perhaps ‘hypocrite’ would be a better adjective.

“Backup is on the way to take him to the station. Good work, Seven.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Something about their voice - even muddied by an obvious voice changer as it was - stuck in Madeline’s brain. She couldn’t tell what it was, but something about the way they spoke was familiar. It wasn’t the accent – that was as nondescript as an accent could be, as far as she could tell. It was just… something.

“Well, shit. A superhero working with the police. That’s a new one,” Viv said.

“Mhm.”

“Wanna go down there and meet them? See what they’re about?”

Madeline thought about it. This new person was intriguing, but not enough to risk having to deal with de Vygon’s bullshit. They were probably just a cop sympathiser who got lucky enough to be born with powers, anyway. Going by their armour, they were clearly sponsored, too. Not worth the trouble.

“Nah. Andreas de Bigot would probably just aggressively misgender me again.”

Viv snorted. “Yeah, true.”

Madeline was referencing a press release the man had done, addressing the public a few days after Rosie’s death. He’d referred to Madeline multiple times as Rosie’s ‘husband,’ despite the fact that she was very publicly a woman, including on her ID, and had already been years deep into her transition when she made her debut on the city stage. She couldn’t imagine his views had changed much in the intervening years.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

They took a more casual pace as they continued, hopping between buildings where possible and teleporting where it wasn’t. The sight of the scene below them had sobered Madeline up some. She couldn’t count how many nights she’d spent in a holding cell during her teen years after getting caught pocketing things from corner stores. Sometimes she would get lucky and just get beaten to a pulp by the owner in the alley outside, but most of the time the cops would be called, and her ice powers weren’t nearly refined enough back then to help her get away. She’d be more likely to slip and skin her knee. It was a dark time for her before Rosie’s family took her in. She felt for the poor guy who just got caught.

They’d been making their way along for a good few minutes when a loud crash sounded behind them. Madeline didn’t even have to turn to know that the Godling was up to Its bullshit again.

“Sorry, Snowball. Looks like you’ll actually have to do your job today.”

“Lay off it, Viv,” she sighed. Sure enough, when she turned, a giant glob of pinkish flesh had risen from the road, and was very angry at the world. That was definitely going to mess up traffic for the next few days. Oh well, it didn’t look that tough. Time to actually do her job, and just maybe get a little catharsis out of it. For Rosie.

Vivienne grabbed her hand and they jumped into the fray.

—

“Well, that was easy.”

“Yup.”

Madeline stared at the mess she’d just made of the monster; riddled with holes from the giant ice spears she’d thrown at it. Generating that much ice from the air always took a lot of effort, so she’d worked up a decent sweat, but the melting point was also a lot lower, so it’d clear itself out quickly. Her job as a Union frontliner was done; now it was the cleanup crew’s turn.

“Thanks for the assist,” she said, turning to Vivienne. “That would have been a lot harder if I had to focus on dodging too.”

“That’s what I’m here for!” Viv beamed.

“So, what now?”

Vivienne looked back towards the scene with the cop-hero. Madeline followed her gaze. They were still there, looking in this direction.

“Oh, there’s my uncle!”

“The detective?”

“Yeah. I know you don’t like cops, and, okay, you have good reason not to, but trust me, he’s a decent guy. Mostly a desk jockey these days.”

“I don’t really care,” Madeline muttered, truly apathetic about the whole thing. She’d met the guy a handful of times on patrols, and there was no reason to doubt Viv’s take on him. From what she could tell, he was just a guy stuck in his job because he’d already wasted too much of his life doing it, now only doing the bare minimum to get by so he wouldn’t lose his only source of income. Honestly, he just seemed kinda sad most of the time. In the lonely, alcoholic sort of way. Hm, on second thought, maybe they’d get along.

“Wanna go say hi?”

“Not really-”

She didn’t even have time to get the words out before Viv was reaching for her.

“-DON’T fucking teleport me.” She flinched away.

Viv got that fucking look on her face that she always got whenever there was a line she knew she could push without getting in too much trouble. A sinking feeling spread through Madeline’s gut and she internally resigned herself to her fate of having to speak to a cop.

Sure enough, the little shit disappeared and Madeline felt a hand on her back. A split second later her ears popped and she found herself only a few feet away from the group of pigs and their little superhero helper. Just great.

“Fuck! I told you not to do that, Viv!”

She put her hands up in surrender – but notably did not apologise. Madeline was going to remember that, and she was going to hold it against her so hard.

“Hey, Uncle Steve!”

The unkempt man cleared his throat. “Good morning, Vivienne. Nice work out there. You too, Madeline.”

Madeline grunted in acknowledgement. She could feel eyes on her from under that rent-a-cop’s faceless black visor. Studying her. Intensely. It was uncomfortable.

They were surprisingly short up close. Granted, Madeline was decently tall, coming in at 6 feet, so a lot of people were surprisingly short to her. Especially those with the aura that this over-armoured supersoldier had. They looked wound up like a coiled spring, ready to jump out and strike the moment the order came through. Still… there was something there, gnawing at the back of her mind. The armour was pretty form fitting, and something about their shape just… Well, to be honest, it reminded her of Rosie. Not that Rosie had a monopoly on her particular body shape. She was just on Madeline’s mind a lot, on account of what day it was. It wasn’t important, she concluded. Just her mind grasping at its usual straws.

“Thanks!” Viv replied. She turned to the Rosie shapematch. “So, a new hero, huh? What’s your name?”

Andreas stepped in before they had a chance to respond, putting a possessive hand on their shoulder. “We’re done here, Seven.”

Just like that, they were led away back to the car they came from; now sitting lonely near the intersection. All other traffic had cleared off in the wake of the monster attack.

“Well,” Madeline said. “That was really fuckin’ strange.”

“That’s an understatement,” Steve said. “We were only informed about this yesterday. They’re calling it Project Genesis, whatever that means. Super confidential stuff, apparently. I never thought a hero would actually be allowed to work within our ranks.”

“Who are they?” Viv asked.

Steve shrugged. “De Vygon only ever referred to them as ‘Seven’. I don’t think I caught a gender or anything. Though… when that monster popped up, they seemed afraid of it. Could be something. I think I also heard the captain mention memory loss to them, too. Maybe they're amnesiac?”

“That sounds wildly unethical,” Madeline muttered under her breath. An amnesiac superhero, hiding their face, with a number for a name, who’s afraid of monsters, working under an almost-definitely corrupt police captain. Everything about this was screaming ‘red flag.’

“Should we ask them to join the Union?” Viv pondered. “All of the heroes in Tombguard have to be part of it, don’t they?”

Madeline sighed, pulling out the tome of job-knowledge in her head. “Legally, they don’t have to join if they don’t want to, so long as they’re independently licensed. From the looks of things, I’d say they probably are. Extend an invitation if you really want, I don’t care either way.”

Things would probably be safer if the supercop was under the same regulations as the rest of the Union, but she didn’t say that out loud. Honestly, they gave her the creeps. She’d rather stay away where possible.

Steve stretched, cracking his back. “Well, I’d better get going. Gotta get this guy processed. You two take care.”

Madeline didn’t acknowledge him as he got in the car and drove off. That whole interaction had put her in a bit of an odd mood. She didn’t really feel like patrolling anymore.

Viv picked up on it. “You had enough?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Take me home.”

—

Madeline clutched the bouquet of flowers as she made her way through the rows of graves, her chest aching. Vivienne hadn’t accompanied her into the cemetery proper, just dropping her off at the gates and letting her go on her own. She appreciated it. As much as she cared for the girl, she wanted to spend some alone time with Rosie today. Though, it seemed as though her wish wouldn’t be granted; at least, not yet.

Standing at Rosie’s grave were two people; a man and a woman, holding each other as they looked at the headstone. Manny and Eleanor Garcia. Rosie’s parents. Madeline sucked in a breath and approached.

Manny was the first one to notice her presence. He turned to her, a sad smile adorning his face. “Madeline. It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” she replied, voice rough. “Likewise.”

“We’ve missed you this past year,” Eleanor said.

Madeline hummed. It was the truth; she’d been neglecting paying them a visit lately. They were better parents to her than her bio-parents had ever been, and she loved them dearly. Honestly, she owed them her life. It was just… difficult being in that house without Rosie around. Living was difficult without Rosie around, to be fair, but she was trying to work past that. With the recent dip in her mental health, it was just easier to avoid anything that reminded her too strongly of her late wife, in-laws' house included.

Upon realising that she clearly wasn’t going to get a response, Eleanor changed the subject. “I like what you’ve done with your hair.”

Madeline managed a smile, running a hand through her mullet. “Thanks. It was… mostly an accident, but I like it, too.”

Awkward silence stretched between them. The wind rustled through the trees, birds chirping and singing like this wasn’t the anniversary of the worst day in the world. Madeline looked at her in-laws, analysing their features and searching for any sign of Rosie. There were hints of her, here and there; in Eleanor’s thick, wavy hair, and the shape of her eyes; in Manny’s wide nose and tan skin. She had her dad’s laugh lines and her mom’s fierce personality. It was a small comfort; being able to see parts of her, still alive and moving, not buried six feet beneath the dirt.

Manny sighed and put an arm out towards her. “Enough of this, Maddie. We’re not strangers. Come here.”

Madeline wasn’t strong enough to resist the pull. She stepped into his hold, sinking against his side as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Tears prickled at her eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there recently. I miss you guys.”

“You know you’re always welcome to stay with us,” Eleanor said. “You’re family. Just as much our daughter as Rosalyn was.”

Madeline bit her lip, trying not to cry too hard. “Th-thank you. Things… Things have been really difficult lately. Just getting out of bed is hard most days. I don’t really have the energy to spare for anything but surviving. That’s… That’s why I’ve been vacant.”

Manny kissed her head. “We’ll always look after you, cariño. If you need help, we’ll be there.”

Madeline smiled. “I’ll think about it. Thank you both.”

The silence that came over them was far more amicable this time around. Madeline stared at Rosie’s gravestone, thinking about how her wife was just underneath her, only six feet away. She was so close, yet Madeline would never truly get to see her face again, cursed to forever catch fleeting, teasing glimpses of her in picture frames and lookalikes. Her body yearned for Rosie’s, whole and real and alive; not just a frozen, flat image of a painted expression. What she wouldn’t give for just one more night with her…

“Hard to believe it’s already been five years,” she muttered, bottom lip quivering a little.

Hold it back, Madeline. At least until Rosie’s parents leave. Don’t let them see how broken you still are.

Manny hummed. “Some mornings I still expect to hear her running downstairs into the kitchen.”

“I still think she’s gonna be next to me when I wake up,” she admitted.

“Sometimes I hear noises at night, and my first instinct is still that it’s you two staying up late again,” Eleanor said, voice breaking a little.

For some reason, that was what broke her. Her fragile hold snapped and a sob tore from her throat, and from there it was hopeless. Manny’s arms cradled her and she buried her face in his coat, shoulders bouncing as she bawled. Another pair of arms encircled her, comforting in their warmth. It didn’t quell the hurt, though. It didn’t fill the hole left in her heart.

Why was this still so painful? Wasn’t time supposed to make it better? It had been five damn years, and Madeline was sick of feeling so miserable, but every time she seemed to be healing, something would remind her and she would tumble all the way back down again. After the first year, she’d been doing good; working, participating in the Union, just keeping busy to distract herself. Yes, she had some unsavoury coping mechanisms at the time, but she was functioning, and she was functioning for a while. About a year and a few months ago, though, her mental health took a dive and she’d been an absolute wreck ever since. It was like the first few months after Rosie’s death all over again, only it just never ended. It wasn’t fair. She’d been coping. She’d been getting on with her life. Moving on, like Rosie would want her to. Now, she was just back in a pit, and every time she tried to climb out, the walls would crumble under her fingers and she’d fall back down. It just… felt so hopeless. Some days, she just wanted to lie in that pit and let the dirt bury her for good, so she could be with Rosie again. The thought was far more tempting than it should’ve been.

She pulled back from Manny, wiping her eyes. “Thanks…”

He ruffled her hair affectionately. “Anytime, mija. We’ll give you some space with her. After that, would you like to come over for dinner?”

She nodded, unable to form the words to properly reply. The two of them smiled softly, before turning and leaving her alone at the grave.

Madeline turned back towards the sun-warmed stone, reading the words engraved on it.

Rosalyn Garcia-Holmes

Beloved daughter and wife. Activist and Hero. Firestarter.

Gave her life for the people of Tombguard.

“Screw Billy Joel, I started it.”

Madeline smiled sadly at the quote, remembering the day Rosie said it. She kneeled on the grass, placing the bouquet down next to the headstone.

“Hey, Rosie. I’ve been missing you a lot, lately. I, um… I hope you’re sleeping well.”

Madeline didn’t really know what to say. She had so many thoughts in her head regarding Rosie, but now that she wanted to say them out loud, nothing came to her. Maybe it was for the best. Rosie would understand, either way. Madeline didn’t want to disturb her rest with pointless ramblings. She took a deep breath, trying to reorganise her thoughts, and spoke again, reaching out to touch the headstone.

“I… I love you. So, so much. I still miss you every single day. I hope you’re well, wherever you are. I hope… I hope I’ll get to see you there someday, too. I… Fuck, Rosie. I can’t even put it into words. I just… I just wish you were here right now. I wish I could hold you again. I wish I could hear your voice from something other than recordings. I wish you… I wish you could give me some goddamn advice on how to get the hell out of this… this fucking slump! I feel so fucking pathetic. I… I need help and I don’t know what to do… I just… don’t know what to do anymore…”

Her tears started pouring again, right as her words dried up. She put her forehead against the warm stone and closed her eyes, reminiscing about times long past, imagining her lover’s hands stroking through her hair, just like she used to.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

Hope you all liked it! I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, personally. Madeline was a fun character to discover while writing the chapter, and I enjoyed her inner monologue. Let me know what you thought!

Also, yes, in case it wasn't clear, Madeline is a trans woman. We stand for the flag in this household 🏳️‍⚧️

Next chapter is from Andreas/Father's POV. Fun times :)

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !! see you all next time!

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #living weapon whump #emotional whump #oc whump #whump story

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bamber344 · 27 days ago

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A Day In The Life Of Vivienne Matthews

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Heyo! So, for those of you who didn't see my post about this, I know I said at the end of the last chapter that you would be getting more bird woman this chapter, but i had a bit of a block so i decided to work on something a bit different to give myself a break from the whump. Hence, this!

Last time we had Viv pov, I felt like I didn't get to do enough introspection to really explore her character, so i wanted to make up for that here.

sorry it took so long! there were a number of things keeping me from writing at my usual pace these past couple of weeks. Namely, screaming children. But also I went on a date one day so that was nice :)

Anyway! I won't keep you for any longer! Enjoy!

CWs: discussions of abuse, recreational drug use, slight allusions to ns/fw things (a friend with benefits, horny dreams)

A Day In The Life Of Vivienne Matthews

The irritating chirp of an alarm was the first thing Vivienne heard as she woke up that morning. It pierced her ears and ripped her out of the pleasant dream she’d been having, leaving her stuck in the waking world for the foreseeable future. Just because this was how she woke up every weekday didn’t make it any less annoying. She groaned, burying a face in her pillow as she reached out to turn it off. Time to start her day, whether she wanted to or not.

Viv forced herself to sit up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and trying to remember what she’d been dreaming about. Regardless of the contents, it had certainly been a good one, she could say that much. Good enough to leave a wet spot on her sleep shorts and a lingering tingle in her thighs, apparently.

She couldn’t help but laugh at herself. It had been a long time since she’d had a dream like that, so it was probably due. Maybe it was time to hit up Brea for another late-night meeting? Between school, work, and Union patrols, she hadn’t really had much time to think about that sort of thing, but clearly, her body was sending her a message that she was a little pent up.

She pushed the thought into the back of her mind as she got up to shower and go about her morning routine. None of her roommates were awake yet, so she was careful not to make too much noise as she gathered her clothes and teleported into the bathroom.

Viv dumped her fresh clothes on the floor and hopped into the shower, letting the cold spray wake her up properly before it heated into something pleasant. She went through the motions, scrubbing herself down before getting out and getting dressed for the day. A touch of makeup here, some cute earrings there, and she was ready to go. She smiled at her reflection, pulling a little pose to show herself off.

From there, she teleported into the kitchen and started on breakfast, putting together a quick meal of fried eggs on toast and scarfing it down as quickly as she could. She didn’t have a lot of time before her lecture started; intentionally setting her alarm as late as possible thanks to the convenience of her powers. No need to worry about travel time when you could get to your location instantaneously, after all.

Sam, her roommate, was just coming out of their room when Vivienne was grabbing her bag and making the final preparations to go.

“Morning,” they mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen to make an instant coffee.

“Hi,” she greeted, securing her bag over her shoulder. “If you’re planning on cooking anything for breakfast, there’s already a pan there you can use. Don’t need to make any unnecessary dishes.”

Sam waved her off. “Breakfast is for chumps. I don’t eat until noon at the earliest.”

Viv paused. “That’s… unhealthy. You should eat more.”

“Your mom’s unhealthy.”

Viv plastered a smile on her face. “Pleasant as always. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

With that, Viv focused her mind on an image of her usual seat in the lecture hall and, with a slight pop, she teleported. Several people around her recoiled in shock. She grinned, greeting them as they calmed back down.

“Vivienne, I thought I told you not to teleport into the lecture hall!” the lecturer yelled. “You could hurt somebody!”

Viv winced, ducking her head as her face heated up. “Sorry, I forgot.”

The lecturer sighed. “Just don’t let it happen again, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—

Vivienne trudged through the lecture, trying to intake as much information as she could, taking notes where possible, and generally just doing her best not to doze off. Despite her attempts to always come across as bright and bubbly, the truth was that Vivienne was tired. All the time. Between studying for her nursing degree, doing whatever work she could as a superhero, looking after Madeline, cooking, cleaning, doing what little self-care she could fit in, and most recently, worrying about Jordyn, she had almost no time to herself to just relax. It was good that she actually enjoyed working as a hero and spending time with Madeline, but a girl still needed time to herself to just decompress. Everyone in the union relied on her for her powers, so she constantly had to be vigilant to any monster attacks or disasters so that she could help dispatch people to the scene, and frankly, it was fucking stressful. Part of her was regretting taking on such a demanding degree, but at the same time, it was what she wanted. She couldn’t spend her whole life living off of the Union, and helping people always made her happiest. It was hard work, but it was good work. It was worth it.

Probably.

Her day continued in the usual fashion; more lectures, more notes, more expensive iced coffee from the university cafeteria, followed by two hours of frantic studying to teach herself all of the things the lecturers missed. Thankfully, all of her lectures were in the first half of the day, so while her mornings were usually an impossible flurry of activity, it left most of her afternoons free so that she could focus on whatever she deemed most important at the time. Ideally, that would’ve been a nap, but there was something else that had been sitting in the back of her mind ever since that chance encounter a few nights ago, and she had to address it before anything else.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. It was just her luck that she would stumble upon another lost bird to take in, but now that she knew, she couldn’t just ignore it. Those bruises and cuts weren’t just training injuries. Jordyn needed help. Vivienne needed a plan.

Her ears popped as she teleported, and she worked her jaw to alleviate the discomfort as she adjusted her eyes to the dim conference room of the Union HQ. It was the biggest room in the building, with a large table right in the centre and a massive screen covering the entirety of one wall, displaying analytics of the city. Without that citizen’s report detection system, Vivienne’s job would’ve been much harder.

She shivered, hugging her arms to herself. After coming straight out of the afternoon sun, the room was almost aggressively cold. In fact, it was weird just how cold it was. Or, at least, it would have been weird, had Maddie not been sitting at one end of the table with her legs kicked up, forming small icicles to throw at a dart board set up on the far wall. She wasn’t alone. The smell of marijuana lingered in the air, wafting from a joint hanging between Ashley’s fingers as he focused on something on the table. It was pretty rare to see both Union leaders working together these days, what with Maddie’s mental health issues. Though, to be fair, it didn’t seem like Maddie was doing much work. Still, her presence alone was progress that Vivienne couldn’t help but be proud of.

“Hey guys,” she greeted, approaching them. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you both here together.”

“Hi Viv,” Ashley greeted, scratching at his dark stubble and not looking away from the papers spread out in front of him. He was a fair bit older than her and Maddie, in his mid thirties. He was one of the few people in the Union who didn’t actually have a power; having inherited his leadership of the Union and everything that comes with it from his elderly mother once she became too old to manage things, unlike Maddie, who was voted into the position. A new leadership election would be held in about a year, once Maddie’s term was up, and the new co-leader would take her place beside Ashley. As much as she had on her plate, Vivienne certainly wouldn’t mind holding the position herself, if it came to that.

“Hey,” Maddie said, grabbing the joint from him and taking a puff. “I just figured I’d come here so that I was actually doing something instead of waiting for you at my apartment. I figured you’d show up eventually, so it seemed efficient. We’re sorting out budget issues at the moment. Or, at least, Ash is. This stuff goes over my head a little.”

Ashley smiled. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short. You’re way better at the people side of things than I am.” He looked up at Viv. “So, you two are hanging out tonight?”

“Yeah,” Vivienne replied. “Having dinner at Maddie’s.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, glancing over at Madeline with a suggestive sort of smile. “I see. Is this just a friend thing, or…?”

Maddie practically flinched, and the ice dart she was aiming went way off course, thudding into the wall. “C’mon man. It’s not like that.”

He put his hands up. “I know, I know. I just think you should consider it. Well, maybe not with Vivienne, obviously, but just in general. Putting yourself out there again could be good for you.”

Maddie pulled her feet off the table and got up, walking away with her shoulders raised. She stopped in front of the dart board and started pulling the icicles out. “Stop, Ashley. I’m not ready for that.”

Ashley sighed. “Sorry, Madds. Just trying to help.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you to.”

Ashley didn’t reply, and the room fell silent. Vivienne clenched her fists, feeling immensely uncomfortable in the suddenly frigid atmosphere of the space. She had to fix this somehow.

“Uh, I- I actually have something I wanted to speak with you about,” she said. “Both of you.”

Madeline turned around. There was still a tenseness to her shoulders, but her face had softened a bit. Viv must have sounded more upset than she realised.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Vivienne sighed, rubbing her eyes. “It’s that police hero. Seven.”

Maddie stood up straighter. “Has she done something to you?!”

Viv frantically shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. Actually, we’ve been getting along pretty well, the few times we’ve met. It’s more… Well, I’m worried about her.”

Ashley frowned. “What is it?”

Viv bit her lip as the memories flashed through her head. “I… I don’t think she’s a hero by choice. I think de Vygon has forced her into it somehow. And… he’s not treating her well.”

“How do you know?” Maddie asked.

“You remember when someone tried to assassinate her a few weeks back? Well, Brea and I were there, helping provide first aid. We took Seven’s chest plate off, and her body was covered in bruises and cuts. At first, I just hoped it was from training or something, but I ran into her the other night, and she was practically beside herself, crying her eyes out. Someone had forced her to get drunk, apparently, and she admitted a whole lot of stuff to me. She said she has no memory of her past beyond about a year ago, and all she can ever remember was being groomed to be a hero by her dad, who I can only assume is de Vygon, though it remains to be seen if he’s actually her dad, because that man is white as hell, and Jordyn’s skin was pretty tan from what I saw. It’s just sketchy all around.” She was starting to ramble a little, but with all of the emotions that talking about this sent through her, that wasn’t surprising.

“Jordyn?” Ash asked.

“Oh, um, that’s her name. She told me when she was saying everything else. Anyway, she also mentioned that her dad would punish her if she didn’t get home in time, which, by the way, is a fucking facility underneath precinct 23. By the sounds of it, she doesn’t even like being a hero, especially not in the way de Vygon makes her, with all the faux-police work. It- it’s just… Ugh! I don’t know! I want to help her but I don’t know how. I figured if anyone could, it would be the Union. There’s gotta be something we can do to get her out, right?”

Ashley frowned. “If what you say is true, then we absolutely have an obligation to help her. The only problem is, there’s no proof. Coming out and announcing something; that de Vygon… what, kidnapped an amnesiac and trained her to be a hero against her will? That would be shot down as an unbelievable rumour in an instant. And from the sounds of it, if we tried to offer her an olive branch and allowed her to stay with us, de Vygon would accuse us of kidnapping, which is the last thing we need right now. I’ve actually done a bit of research on this ‘Project Genesis’ thing of his, and it’s being funded by some of the most rich and powerful people in the country. You remember Sebastian Beaumond, the senator who ran for office a few years ago? Yeah, he owns a controlling share in the project. Honestly, even if we did have proof, unless it was absolutely incontrovertible, they would cover it up without a second thought. This isn’t a beehive we want to poke without a good plan.”

Viv snapped her fingers. “Beaumond! That was his name! He was the one that forced Jordyn to drink the other night.”

Madeline sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t think this is an issue of coming up with a plan. No matter how we do it, if we lay even a single hand on de Vygon’s little pet, he’s gonna come crashing down on us with the strength of the entire police force. The Union would be finished, and no matter how bad things are for Jordyn, we can’t afford that. There are too many people relying on us to survive. She’s on her own. Besides, I’ve been keeping an eye on her activities, and let me tell you, that woman can fight. She can get herself out if she has such a problem.”

Vivienne’s jaw dropped. “Maddie, what the fuck? You of all people should know that abuse doesn’t work like that!”

Maddie clenched her fists. The room grew several degrees colder. “I’m saying we don’t have a choice. She can get herself out, because that’s the only way she’s getting out. Abuse, domestic violence, people don’t fucking care about that shit! If we raise a stink and start throwing accusations, even with proof, absolutely nothing will come of it. You’d need a much bigger controversy to even make a dent in de Vygon’s friends’ armour. It… It sucks, okay? I get it. You see someone hurting, and you wanna do everything in your power to help, because you’re just good like that, but you need to understand that there is nothing in your power that you can do.

“Besides, like you said, abuse doesn’t work like that. If she’s really been groomed by that bastard for as long as she can remember, she’s not gonna want to turn away from him just because we tell her that the way he’s treating her is wrong. The only way that anything could possibly happen would be if Jordyn was allowed to join the Union. Maybe then we could slowly work de Vygon’s collar from her neck, but that’s never going to happen, because de Vygon hates us. He would never let her anywhere near us.”

“I’m… not so sure about that,” Ashley said, butting in. Vivienne was grateful. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to formulate a reply to Madeline’s argument without bursting into tears. This type of conflict just didn’t agree with her, emotionally speaking.

Maddie turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it. What could possibly be the goal here? He pours all this money into making what basically amounts to a super cop? That just seems like a waste of cash. No, there’s something he wants; something that only Jordyn can help him get. I can make a pretty good guess as to what that something is.” He pointedly glanced down at the floor before looking back up at them.

It took a second to click, but when it did, Vivienne’s stomach dropped. “You don’t think…?”

“I do. He’s been bitter about not being part of the main family ever since he learned about it. Doubly so now that we don’t share the de Vygon name anymore. That’s half the reason he hates the Union so much, like it’s our fault his grandfather was born later than my great-grandfather. I can only imagine how angry he was when my mom married my dad and took his last name. Now Min is the main family name, and de Vygon is the branch name. That’s gotta sting for a man as egotistical as him.”

“So you think Jordyn is just a ploy to get a soldier into the Union to usurp control of the Godling’s prison from you?” Madeline asked.

“Why else would a man who hates superheroes raise a superhero? He’s certainly biding his time, but I don’t doubt that the moment Jordyn expresses interest in the Union, he’ll let her come here and stake the place out.”

“So what do we do?” Vivienne asked. “I mean, we’ve still got to let her in, right? She needs help.”

“Of course. That way we kill two birds with one stone. We already know de Vygon’s plan – or at least, our best assumption of it – so we can take steps to ensure Jordyn doesn’t get too far with it, while also doing our best to help her recover and break free from him.”

Viv pursed her lips. “I suppose it’s our only real option. Still, it just… I wish we could do more.”

“I know. The situation is just awkward. Still, we’ve got a plan now. Vivienne, how close are you with her?”

“Uhh, not very? We’ve just run into each other a couple of times. She seems to like me well enough, if the hug she gave me when she was drunk was anything to go by.”

“I’ve met her once, but she seemed weirdly enamoured by me,” Maddie said. “Kept staring at me.”

“Well, the next time one of you run into her, make sure you let her know that the Union is an option.” Ashley replied. “The sooner the better.”

“Got it.”

“Also, don’t discuss any of this with anyone else. If Jordyn does join the Union, it needs to feel as natural for her as possible. That’s not gonna work if everyone’s watching her like a hawk.”

“That makes sense,” Vivienne said.

Ashley nodded. “Good. Now, I believe you two had plans? I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“I can still work for a bit longer,” Madeline said.

Ash shook his head. “Nah, it’s alright. I’m pretty much finished anyway, and I need to go do more research into de Vygon’s whole deal. You two can head off.”

Maddie shrugged. “Okay, then.” She walked over to Viv, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Shall we?”

Vivienne’s relief that the previous tension between herself and Maddie had faded away was palpable. She smiled. “Let’s go.”

—

Cooking was always something that Vivienne looked forward to. The act of taking all of the separate ingredients, refining them, and then bringing them together into something that was more than the sum of its parts just relaxed her. For a small moment of time, all she needed to focus on were the even cuts of the knife through an onion, and ensuring that the cacciatore in the pan didn’t burn. There was no room to worry about nursing degrees, or her friend’s tenuous mental health, or the fact that an acquaintance was almost certainly being abused, or even her own never-ending fatigue. It was just her, the ingredients, and the sizzle of the pan.

That wasn’t all she liked about cooking, though. No, her favourite part was definitely what came after the cooking. Sharing a meal that she poured her heart and soul into with a dear friend; that was what made cooking truly great. The feeling of watching Madeline take her first bite of pasta and seeing her face melt with enjoyment was a sensation that would never get old.

“So? How is it?” Viv asked, perhaps stroking her ego a little bit, but who could say?

“Fuckin’ amazing, as usual,” Maddie said. “Seriously, we’ve gotta do this more often.”

Viv beamed. “What, just so you can enjoy my cooking more?”

“Exactly. Why else would I hang out with you?”

“Damn, all this time I thought it was for my charming wit and stunning good looks.”

Maddie let out one of her rare laughs. “Sure, that’s totally it.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as both of them enjoyed their meals. They were sitting out on Maddie’s apartment balcony, basking in the warmth of the setting sun and the cool breeze wafting through the streets. The city was calm; the sound of traffic floating up to them and providing a nice white noise that sat comfortingly in the background. Despite all that, though, Viv just couldn’t get her mind to rest. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jordyn. Apparently, Madeline was on a similar wavelength.

“So,” she said through a mouthful of penne and sauce. She paused and swallowed it down before continuing. “How do you think de Vygon found Jordyn, anyway?”

Viv frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you said she says she doesn’t remember anything other than her training, right? So, what, de Vygon just kidnapped someone out of the amnesia ward of the hospital or something?”

Vivienne gave it some thought. “I don’t know. That seems really risky for how secretive he’s being about the whole thing, and besides, what are the odds he kidnapped someone with a power anyway?”

“Okay, what about… he trafficked her in from another country to hide from the missing person’s report, and used hypnosis or some shit to wipe her memory?”

“No, she doesn’t have an accent. Also, I feel like that wouldn’t really work with how publicised Jordyn is. The moment anyone hears about her power to control shadows, they would immediately know who she was if they knew her before she was kidnapped, even in another country. Only one person can have a power at one time, after all.”

Maddie threw her hands up. “Well fuck, I don’t know. Genetically engineered test-tube baby? Some sort of clone? Y’know, speaking of which, do you reckon if someone cloned me, the clone would have the same power as me? Cuz they would technically still be me, right? I’ve always wondered about that.”

Viv snorted at how quickly she drifted off-topic. “I mean, they’d probably still have a power, since you’ve got the mutation for it, but they probably wouldn’t have yours. It would be like having a twin, right? Just because you’re genetically the same, you’re still different people. Thanks to how powers work, no one else can have the same power as you, so I’d imagine your clone would manifest something different.”

“So what you’re saying is, we wouldn’t be able to find out who she was cloned from by looking at power records?”

“Why do you think she’s a clone?” Viv asked with an incredulous grin. “They’ve barely even done research on cloning sheep, haven’t they? We’re years out from any reliable human cloning program, let alone one that lets you make a fully grown adult.”

Maddie tapped her temple with a finger. “That’s what they want you to think.”

Vivienne squinted, finally noticing the redness in Maddie’s eyes. “Oh my god, how high are you?”

Maddie grinned. “Hey, someone had to finish that joint Ash and I were having while you were cooking. That was good weed! I didn’t want to just waste it.”

Vivienne laughed, shaking her head. “I should’ve known.”

“Honestly, I’m just surprised you didn’t smell it.”

“Well, have you got any more? I’m starting to feel left out.”

Her grin widened. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

—

Vivienne really should’ve gone home and studied that night. It would’ve been the best use of her time, and she hadn’t promised Maddie anything more than dinner. Instead, what she did was get very high and watched movies on Maddie’s couch late into the night. She’d been having too good of a time to just up and leave, and if she was being honest with herself, the little break from everything on her plate was nice. Needed, even. There was only so much bandwidth she could spare before she fizzled out, so it was important to find the time to blow off steam like this. Usually, she would find herself in Brianna’s bed for that purpose, but hanging out like this, just relaxing like two friends should, it hit the spot just the same. She and Maddie didn’t get to do that enough these days (again, usually Brianna was filling that role lately), and Viv wasn’t going to waste this no-doubt fleeting moment of high spirits for her.

As the night wound down, Maddie retreated off to bed, and Viv stayed on the couch, not wanting to go back to her apartment where her roommates would no doubt be loudly gaming until the early hours of the morning. She stared up at the dark ceiling, thinking about everything they’d discussed today. As was the usual lately, her mind drifted to Jordyn. She remembered that drunken hug they’d shared the other night; the feeling of the cold, uncomfortable metal of her armour pressed up against her body, juxtaposed with the warmth of her tears soaking into Viv’s shoulder. Despite all of the evidence to the contrary, Vivienne couldn’t help but hope that none of what they’d theorised about Jordyn was true. It hurt to think about the fact that she might be hurting at this very moment, and Vivienne couldn’t do a thing about it. The pain and fear in Jordyn’s voice that night still rang through Viv’s ears, and it was the perfect fuel for her mind to keep supplying her with horrible samples of what Jordyn’s screams might sound like as de Vygon punished her for some perceived mistake. She tried to shut it out, but as per usual, her brain just wouldn’t stop working.

Vivienne didn’t get much sleep that night. But hey, what was new there?

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

so, originally this was just gonna be an interlude, but then plot started happening, so i guess this is an actual proper chapter now. Lucky you, viv fans!

i have been very very exhausted and lost a lot of sleep this past week, so if there are any mistakes I've missed, please let me know!

Next time, I super duper prommy that you'll get your bird lady wishes.

let me know what you thought with a comment or reblog! It's very appreciated :) Also let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist! Thanks for reading!

#project genesis whump series #whump series #whump writing #writing #writeblr #whumpblr #whump #creative writing #living weapon whump

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bamber344 · 3 months ago

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Jordyn's training, part 4: Deployment

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Getting rid of the 'whumpee intro' title because it's becoming quite redundant with how far this has stretched, and I've found that it's kinda hard to classify a lot of the POV characters we have coming up so I'm just not gonna do it and let you guys decide where they fall on the whumpee/caretaker/whumper spectrum :3

Sorry for the long wait! I wanted to get some good progress done on my book before coming back to this, and this chapter is decently long as well (almost 3.7k) but hey that's more for you guys! I'm very excited to share this one. Chapter begins after the cut :)

CWs: broken bones, slight dehumanisation, conditioned/obedient whumpee, other general LW stuff. Honestly not a lot to warn for in this chapter but let me know if I missed anything important.

Jordyn's Training, part 4: Deployment

1 YEAR AFTER WAKING

An arm broke under my fist, the elbow joint bending backwards with an awful crack. I let go of the screaming criminal, spinning around with a kick to the head of the one sneaking up behind me. He stumbled backwards and I kept up my momentum, spinning again and gathering shadows behind my leg. The added force of the darkness when my armoured boot made contact knocked him straight to the floor, where he stayed, unmoving.

I was almost finished. There were only two criminals left, standing at the far end of the room with their weapons raised. They seemed hesitant to approach. I didn’t blame them. The room was already filled with the limp, groaning forms of their fellows, and they surely knew by now that their fates would be no different. Still, I needed to take them down to complete the exam, and I wasn’t going to fail again. If they wouldn’t come to me, I would go to them.

I sent out a whip of shadow, wrapping it around one of the men’s ankles. The shadow flexed and shrank to my will, allowing me the leverage to pull him off of his feet and fling him around the room, using his body as an improvised wrecking ball against his friend. I released my hold at just the right moment to send the man crashing into the other criminal, smashing both of them against the far wall, knocking them out and completing my final combat exam.

After a few seconds of stillness, the door to the observation room opened. I took a deep breath, blowing out the leftover nerves and letting the adrenaline run its course. A pervasive nausea sat heavily in my gut as I left the exam room, as it so often did after a live combat training session. I hated the feeling of bones breaking under my strength; my victim’s screams ringing through my ears for days afterward. My combat instructor told me that many people feel ‘alive’ in the midst of a fight; filled with endorphins and running on instinct. I usually just felt overwhelmed and sick. Part of me was honestly a little surprised that I’d aced the exam this time around. I even kept my cool when the lights turned off, forcing my shadows to remain close and defend me until they came back on. I guessed all the extra training just paid off.

“Well done, Seven. You passed,” Father said, walking up to me. He’d been calling me Seven ever since my last attempt at the exam, though I didn’t fully understand why. He still called me Jordyn when we were alone in my room, but whenever we were out and about in the facility, I was only Seven. When I asked about it, he said that it was practice for when I’m deployed. I wouldn’t be going by Jordyn as a hero, either. He also said that I should start calling him Captain de Vygon or sir when in public, too. I was still getting the hang of it, though.

“Thank you, Fa-” I paused, clearing my throat. “Sir.”

He nodded. “Return to your quarters. Your dinner will be delivered; you may eat it at your own discretion. Make sure you rest well. Tomorrow, we will finalise your deployment.”

I lowered my head, insides buzzing with anticipation. “Yes, sir.”

With that, I turned and left, following Father’s command and heading straight to my room. Once there, I removed my armour, stretching out my sore limbs and sighing at the sensation of fresh air hitting my skin for the first time in hours. After that, I showered, spending an indulgent amount of time under the soothing spray of hot water, checking over my body for new bruises or cuts from the fight. I usually had a couple lingering around from training (or, in one case, banging my shin against my bed frame) and today was no exception. Thankfully, there was nothing serious. Nothing had pierced my armour this time around. That knife wound from my previous attempt had slowed me down in training for at least a month, and left a nasty scar in its wake. At least it matched the one on my face, not that anyone but Father or myself would be seeing it from now on.

The shower washed off the remaining adrenaline, but I was still restless; excitement at the prospect of finally leaving the facility overtaking all else. I tried reading a book to pass the time, but like always I just ended up doodling in the margins, drawing little pictures to chronicle my day. It was something I’d picked up in the past few months, when my training started getting harder and more painful, and Father became much stricter. There was a lot that upset me nowadays, and since I wasn’t allowed to express that out loud, I had to find other ways to get it out of me. The more I let it build up, the worse I felt, and that tended to affect my performance, which Father was always quick to pick up on. Drawing was the only effective way I’d found so far of releasing that pain; pouring it out through the pencil and onto the paper.

Dinner came and was eaten, the clock ticked onwards, and eventually I found myself growing tired. Even in bed, however, the sleep never came. Every time I thought about tomorrow, anticipation would shoot through me. I’d spent a whole year of my life in this facility, recovering from my accident, learning how to be a hero again, and tomorrow, I’d finally be allowed to leave.

I couldn’t wait.

—

Elevators were something of an enigma to me. I could count on one hand how many times I’d ridden in one. That very first day - the day I’d woken from the green - I remembered being carted into a small box in a wheelchair along with Father, and when the doors opened again, we were somewhere else. It only succeeded in worsening the state of abject confusion I was in. By now, theoretically, I knew they were just taking me to different levels of the facility beyond the access of the stairs in my section, but the novelty had as of yet failed to wear off. Being able to get from one place to another without moving was always mystifying to me.

Today, however, I had to contain my excitement at getting to ride in one. I was at Father’s side, travelling upwards out of the facility for the very first time. He had told me not to expect much action for my first day; he wanted to get me used to the city and my role before sending me on any solo patrols. Should anything exciting happen, it would be the police tracking down a suspect and sending me to apprehend them. As much as I disliked combat, the prospect of any sort of change to my schedule was enticing.

The elevator finally stopped moving, and the doors in front of me opened to a wide, dimly lit concrete room. I followed Father out, stepping around the large, metal, wheeled things lined up in rows all over the place. The urge to ask what they were was strong, but I knew better than to speak without permission. If it was important, Father would tell me in time.

Eventually, we stopped at one of the metal things. It was all black, quite boxy in shape. Father stepped around one side of it, and when I went to follow him, he paused, looking at me with a confused expression.

“Oh, of course,” he said, a wry grin forming on his lips. “You’ve never seen a car before, have you?”

“This is a car?” I asked. I’d read about them in my books, but due to the nature of the facility, I’d never actually seen one in person before.

“Yes. Get in on the other side.”

He showed me how to work the door, so I went around the car and followed his command, taking my seat next to him. He strapped himself in, then leaned over to do the same for me, instructing me on how to do it for myself. The day had barely even started and I was already learning so much.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, I did yelp a little when the car started moving, despite knowing to expect it from reading about them. My embarrassment was quickly replaced with awe, however, as we drove out onto the streets of the city.

I’d never seen anything like it before. There were cars everywhere, the roads stretching on as far as I could see, bordered by buildings so tall it was like they were piercing the sky itself. And speaking of the sky! I couldn’t believe just how blue it was! I’d spent my entire life surrounded by greys and whites and blacks. Seeing such a bright, beautiful colour stretching out above me was breathtaking. My heart was pounding in my chest from the sheer amazement alone.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Father asked, no doubt noticing how enamoured I was as I craned my neck to see out the windows. “Welcome to Tombguard, the city of heroes.”

I turned and looked at him. “Permission to speak?”

“Granted.”

“Why is it called that?” I asked. “Isn’t that name a little… morbid? Aren’t tombs where people get buried after they die?”

“I’m glad you asked. It has to do with the city’s conception. A long, long time ago, there was… an entity, shall we say. A being of great power that roamed the earth, causing chaos and destruction, subjugating populations to Its will. They called It the Godling, as Its strength was second only to that of what we recognised as a God. It had the powers of creation and decimation, and almost anything that It wished would come to pass with a mere thought. The only thing It couldn’t control was the human spirit. It is said that the ancestors of the de Vygon family forged a blade capable of taking down this monstrosity. After a fierce battle, the beast was impaled with the blade, sealing away Its power. The family imprisoned It, deep below the earth, and this city was built around It to maintain Its cage. It is believed that the blood of the Godling still runs to this day, seeping into the ground and spreading through the earth, and that it’s what gives people like you their powers. That is why there are so many heroes here; proximity to the Godling’s prison increases the likelihood of a child being born with power, but there are also more monster attacks here than anywhere else on earth. The demand necessitates supply. Hence; Tombguard, the city of heroes.”

For some reason, the thought of whatever ‘monster attacks’ were sent a shiver down my spine and had my hair standing on end, but I brushed it off. “The de Vygon family? You mean your ancestors were the ones who fought that thing?”

Father nodded. “Indeed. Though we no longer have access to the Godling’s prison. That honour passed to a different branch of the family, one that no longer bears the name.”

He sounded almost bitter about it. I knew better than to ask what that was about though, so I turned back to the window, taking in the beauty of the outside world.

—

Father took me on a tour around the city, showing me all of the sights, taking me down as many side-streets as he could so that I could start to learn the layout. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage, though. The whole thing was like a maze! There were so many twists and turns, and after a while, a lot of it started to look the same. I supposed it would probably be easier once I got on top of the buildings, as heroes apparently often did. I’d just have to wait and see.

We were pulled up at a stop light when it happened. A shout from the side of the road caught my attention.

“Hey, stop! Thief!”

My whole body lit up with adrenaline. This was it! My chance to take down a real criminal! I looked to Father for approval.

“Go ahead, Seven. But be gentle. You want to make a good first impression, after all.”

I nodded, removing my seatbelt and all-but launching myself out the door. The commotion was happening outside of something Father had told me was called a ‘general store.’ There was a man at the door, angrily shouting, pointing down the street at another person who was sprinting away, something cradled in their arms. I wasted no more time, using my shadows to fortify my legs and propel myself forward.

Father had specified to be gentle, so I didn’t bother using my shadows for anything else, just crashing into the criminal and tackling them down to the ground, pinning their arms behind their back. Two loaves of bread and a carton of milk scattered across the ground in front of us.

“Ah! What the hell?!” the thief said, craning their head around to look up at me. It was a young man, probably not much older than me. “Please, it’s just a little food! I’m just trying to feed my family!”

I knew how it felt to go hungry, but that didn’t mean I could go easy on this guy. He was a criminal, after all, and they would always try to spin a tale to convince me to let them go. I tightened my grip as he futilely struggled against it.

“Argh! What kind of superhero are you?! This isn’t your job!”

I wasn’t certain I had permission to speak, so I kept my mouth shut. Otherwise, I would’ve argued against that. This was what I had been training for my whole life – as far back as I could remember, at least. What else could my job possibly be?

“Backup is on the way to take him to the station,” Father said, approaching us. “Good work, Seven.”

“Thank you, sir.”

By then, a crowd had started to form, watching the scene unfold.

“Is that a new hero?”

“I’ve never seen them before.”

“That black armour is scary…”

“Are they working with the police?”

Father stepped around me, facing the amassing group of people.

“The show’s over, folks! Nothing to see here, just Tombguard’s newest hero doing her job. The police will be here soon, so I’d advise you all to clear out.”

The crowd took Father’s advice and dispersed, leaving us alone with the owner of the store, who came over and picked up his discarded stock.

“I’ve never heard of a hero working with the cops before, but boy am I glad for it now, Mr…?”

Father smiled, holding out his hand to shake. “Andreas de Vygon, Captain of the 23rd precinct, and the handler of our newest superhero; Seven.”

“Well, thank you, Captain. Thank you both. I’ll be sure to let everyone know that the 23rd has the backs of us business owners, unlike the rest of the Heroes’ Union, those freeloading bastards.”

Father laughed. I had to take a second to process it. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him laugh before.

“Oh, I assure you, Seven is not part of the Heroes’ Union. She actually helps the city.”

“Ha! You said it! Well, I’ll see you around. Feel free to stop by anytime for a discount!”

The man left, and the police arrived not long after, rolling up in one of those black and white cars I had seen after departing from the facility elevator. Two more men stepped out; one in a blue uniform, and the other dressed a little more casually in a button-up and trenchcoat. Both of them peered at me curiously before approaching.

I let the one in blue take over in handling the criminal, finally climbing to my feet and returning to Father’s side, where the other man was. His light brown, grey-streaked hair was messily slicked back, and the lower half of his face was covered with stubble. He looked me over with an unparsable expression.

“So,” he said. “This is Project Genesis, huh? Shorter than I thought they’d be.” His voice was husky and deep.

“This is Seven, Detective Matthews,” Father corrected. “The product of Project Genesis.”

Detective Matthews grunted. “How’d you convince a hero to work with us, anyway?”

“That’s confidential, detective. Now, don’t you have a shoplifter to process?”

He sighed. “Yes, sir.”

A loud crash from down the street caught everyone’s attention. My heart felt like it stopped in my chest at the sight of what caused it.

It was like a section of the ground itself had come alive. A huge, pinkish mass of tentacles and eyeballs rose out from a destroyed section of road, coated and shielded by the concrete and asphalt sticking to its blotchy skin. It thrashed at everything around it; ripping out lampposts, throwing cars, smashing buildings, enraged at the sheer concept of life itself, not able to comprehend why it had been forced to be.

Why has it been forced to be? It thinks this is a question one should ask itself, little shadow.

…What? Whose voice was that? The words echoed through my skull like a concussion; their source utterly unknown but their sound viscerally painful; a thousand nails driving their tips into my brain with every syllable. As quickly as it had begun, however, the words and their suffering disappeared, and I was left to wonder if either had even existed in the first place.

“Are you afraid, Seven?” came Father’s voice from my right; deep and solid and beautifully real, tearing me back into the physical world.

“N-no,” I lied, the word cracking as it came out. In truth, the sight before me was almost petrifying. My entire body screamed at me to run, flee, hide from the impossible thing wreaking havoc down the road.

“Do not lie to me,” Father replied.

I sucked in a breath. Perhaps honesty was better than feigned confidence in a situation such as this. “Yes.”

“I expected you might be. It was one of those… things that injured you in the first place. I’m not surprised that an instinctive fear has persisted, in spite of your… memory loss. Don’t worry, your job is here. The Union will deal with it.”

As if summoned by his words, it was then that I saw two figures in the distance leap off of a nearby rooftop towards the creature. A huge shard of ice materialised from nowhere, skewering the monstrosity straight through. It swung a tentacle at the heroes, but they suddenly disappeared, reappearing on the ground a little ways away. The fight continued on like that - ice spear, dodge, ice spear, dodge - until the thing was nothing more than a limp chunk of flesh, leaking water from its death wounds. They made it look easy.

All of a sudden, the two appeared right in front of us. One of them flinched away from the other.

“Fuck! I told you not to do that, Viv!”

I was starstruck.

Standing before me was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I didn’t know why, but it felt like my insides were tearing themselves apart with need just at the sight of her alone. Her outfit was mostly white, made of a seemingly thin material that didn’t really leave much to the imagination, with a mask covering the top half of her face. Her blonde hair was shaved at the sides, but longer on top and at the back, messy and streaked with darker brown. Her downturned lips were a pale shade of pink; soft and enticing. I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t justify it. There was just something in my very being that wanted to be near her in any way possible.

The other one - Viv, I presumed - put her hands up in apologetic surrender. She wasn’t wearing a mask at all – in fact, both of them were showing a lot more skin than I thought heroes were allowed to, based on what Father had told me. Her red hair was shorter, tousled and hanging loose from a small ponytail, no doubt messed up from the fight. She was quite pretty, too, but she didn’t have the strange allure that the other woman had, for whatever reason. She turned back to us.

“Hey, Uncle Steve!”

Detective Matthews cleared his throat. “Good morning, Vivienne. Nice work out there. You too, Madeline.”

Madeline. The name rang through my head like a bell. I felt like I was forgetting something.

“Thanks!” Vivienne turned to me. “So, a new hero, huh? What’s your name?”

“We’re done here, Seven,” Father said, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me back to the car. I tried to crane my head around to get another look at the two heroes, but a spark of sharp pain at the back of my neck reminded me of what happened when I disobeyed, so I quickly gave that up.

It was only when we were back in the car, buckled up and moving away from the scene, that Father spoke again.

“You should watch out for those other heroes, Seven. They’re freeloading scum whose only contribution is showing up once a month when those monsters attack and taking all the glory for killing them. They’ll try to corrupt you with promises of wealth and camaraderie, but they can offer you nothing I cannot already provide for you. Especially stay away from that blonde one; Madeline. That’s an order.”

Of course. That was just my luck. “Yes, Father.”

“Oh, and while I’m at it, I might as well mention it before I forget. Kill the black-winged one on sight should you see it.”

With those cryptic orders, he fell silent and I was left to ponder what that could possibly mean, staring out the window, longing to feel the breeze on my skin.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

So happy to finally be done with this arc lol. As much as I love Jordyn this section really stretched on and I'm looking forward to exploring some other character povs and getting deeper into the world

next chapter will be from Madeline's POV, probably titled Till Death Did Us Part

hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, and be sure to say something if you want to be added to the tag list! every reblog helps :)

#project genesis whump series #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #whump series #oc whump #living weapon whump #superhero whump #sapphic characters

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