#whispered reassurances

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Not So Invincible After All

Whumpuary 2023: Prompt 3. Shot

2023 Year of Whump: Jan 1. Whispered Reassurances

Fandom: DC, Batman, Jason Todd, Red Hood, f!reader, Superman/Lois Lane's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Tired of living in your father's shadow, you move to Gotham where you meet Jason Todd. As the two of you become an unstoppable team (in love and crimefighting), everything seems perfect. Until something goes wrong…

Word Count: 3417

TW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Gun Shot, Blood, Loss of powers, Pain, Ambiguous Ending, Language

Notes: Thank you to @icarusthefoolish for this request!

Moving to Gotham City is not a hard decision to make. You need to get out of your father’s shadow in Metropolis and the heroes of Gotham could use some extra help after Bruce’s death and Dick taking over the mantle as Batman. So, it seems like the perfect spot for you to start your solo career as a superhero. However, it is only right to get permission from those already protecting the city first.

To your utter embarrassment, your father sets up the meeting for you and insists on coming. Though you are an adult, he still treats you like a child. But, as much as you try to argue against it, once your mother steps in and says he is going, all arguments are over. Not even you argued with Lois Lane when she took that tone.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside Wayne Manor with your arms crossed over the S emblem on your chest, staring down the remaining members of the Batfamily. You had known Bruce extremely well, you had never met any of his wards before, though you knew who they all were.

Damien seems unimpressed by you and quickly turns his attention to other things after his introduction. Tim is the complete opposite, practically bouncing up and down as he shakes your hand and tries to ask you a million questions. Luckily, Dick gently pushes him to the side, reminding him there will be time for that later. The new Batman is so different from Bruce and yet you can still see flashes of his late guardian in the way he holds himself and addresses the situation at hand. Which just left Jason. The formerly dead vigilante didn’t say anything while you were introduced, but his eyes never leave your face the entire time your dad is explaining the situation. There is a playful twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite understand, but you push it to the back of your mind as your dad finishes up and lifts up into the sky, drifting back a few dozen feet to give you some space for once.

Your eyes quickly flicker across each of the heroes in front of you and you clear your throat. “So, basically what Dad said. I want to leave Metropolis, you guys seem to need an extra set of hands around here– it seems like a win-win.”

For the first time, Damien speaks up. “Who says we need ‘extra hands’? We are protecting the city just fine without assistance.”

You lock eyes with the young Robin, completely unfazed by the death stare he is giving you. “Listen, kid. You guys are doing fine, but don’t think you are living up to The Bat’s legacy, at least not yet. I might not be living in Gotham at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been keeping an eye on things. Dick is doing an admirable job of being Batman, but it’s pretty obvious he’s just one of the birds playing dress up. And I’m not the only one who's noticed. The criminals in this city are getting bolder and sooner or later, one of them is going to do something the four of you can’t handle. So, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine. There are a million other cities I can move to. But then don’t come crying to me when you get your asses handed to you and you need someone to save you, because I might not be interested anymore.”

Damien continues to stare you down for a moment, then slowly nods, breaking eye contact. And with that, you know you have earned the respect of the one person who you really needed to win over tonight.

Elbowing Tim in the ribs, Jason grins as he mutters, “Wow. I never expected to hear something like that coming from the boy scout’s daughter.” 

One side of your mouth quirks up in a sly smile as your superhearing picks up on what he said. Turning your gaze so you are staring directly into his eyes, you say, “Then you’ve never met my mother. I might get my powers from my father, but I get my spirit and my wicked tongue from her.”

You can see the gears working in Jason’s head as the response forms. The way his heartbeat speeds up slightly, the slight dilation of his pupils, how his jaw tightens as he forces himself not to make the witty comment he desperately wants to but can’t with your father still hovering feet away. And that makes the smile on your lips widen.

The rest of the meeting runs smoothly. It is agreed that you can stay in Gotham and help protect its people as long as you don’t get in the Batfamily’s way. However, they do extend an invitation to team up with them whenever you want. You doubt it will happen, but it is nice to know that option is there.

You say goodbye to your dad and watch as he flies away. Once he is out of sight of even your advanced vision, you pivot sharply and strut straight up to Jason. 

He seems slightly startled by your brash confrontation, but he stands his ground. As you reach him, you lean over until your lips lightly brush the curve of his ear, and you whisper, “Maybe if you play your cards right, I can show you how wicked this tongue can get.” 

With your powers, you can sense the multitude of physical reactions your words send through his body and you chuckle as you pat his cheek before flying off into the night. 

As it turns out, Jason played his cards very right seeing as you end up waking up in his bed less than a week later. And you haven’t left since. Now, after almost five months of living in Gotham, you and Jason have become the ultimate team, in and out of your costumes. Despite both of your tempers, sarcastic natures, and constant desire to push back against the ideals of your fathers, the two of you balance each other out in some strange way. 

And Jason is never intimidated by your powers or your nigh invulnerability. In fact, he is nothing but supportive of them. In fights, you quickly find a rhythm where you go after the strongest opponent while Jason covers you or takes out the weaker opponents. It’s a system that never seems to fail, and the two of you seem unstoppable.

Until one night….

Jason is chasing two men through the streets. They just robbed Gotham National Bank but for some reason, ditched the bags of money fairly quickly as they tried to lose Jason. But he just let you gather up the forfeited money and fly it back to the bank while he continued his chase. 

By the time you return and spot him, he has chased the men onto the roof of a building. Just as the men realize they are trapped and this will be a fight, you land next to Jason with a grin.

“Hello, boys. What seems to be the trouble here?”

The men exchange angry glances and one of them hisses loudly to the other, “What do we do? We wanted Superman, not Superbitch.”

“Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!” Jason growls, taking a step closer, but you place a hand on his chest, halting him.

“Well, you shitheads are in the wrong city then. Superman doesn’t come here. This is my turf. So, does that mean you want to just give up now, or are we going to have a little fun tonight?” The men exchange glances then pull out their guns. You nod. “Okay, then. Fun it is.”

Before they can react, you have crossed the distance between you and grab one of the men by his jacket and soar up into the air. The man immediately drops his gun as he frantically clutches at your arms, trying to hold on as tightly as he can. But it makes little difference. With a cheeky grin, you release your grip. The man only has a fraction of a second to realize what is about to happen before he plummets towards the ground. 

You continue to hover in the air as you watch him fall farther and farther, his screams of terror slowly growing fainter. Finally, when he is just a few dozen feet from the ground, you sigh and soar downward. You reach him just before he hits the ground, wrapping your arms around his chest and holding him about a foot in the air. 

He continues to scream even once you set him back on the sidewalk, his legs giving out from under him as he collapses in a heap. Bending over to peer down at him, you ask, “Now, are you going to be a good boy and stay put until the cops show up, or do we have to try that again?”

He pales at the very thought and clutches your leg. “N-n-no! Please! N-not again!”

Patting his head, you say, “Good boy. Now, let’s see if your friend is as agreeable.” And you launch yourself back into the air towards the top of the building. 

When you reach the roof, you see Jason has dealt with the other man who is lying face down on the far side of the building. Jason looks up as you land and even through his helmet, you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “Did you catch this one in time?”

“One time! I missed one time! And I still stopped him before he was permanently injured. Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Nope.” He starts to cross the roof to you.

But just then, you both hear a sound behind him, and turn to look. The man Jason had knocked down has climbed back to his feet, and before Jason can react, the man raises his gun and fires three shots straight at his chest.

“Nice try,” you smirk as you streak forward at superspeed, stopping just in front of Jason as the bullets soar toward him.

However, the smirk drops from your face as the bullets don’t bounce harmlessly off you as expected. Instead, they drive deep into your chest, just above your heart. The force of the impact causes you to stumble backward into Jason, who flinches slightly in surprise at your sudden appearance and collision with him. 

Instantly, it feels like all of your strength is being sapped from your body and you collapse heavily against Jason’s chest. Luckily, he has a firm grip on your waist and keeps you from falling completely. Drawing you in, he lowers both of you to the ground and allows you to lean against him with your legs out in front of you.

Neither of you saw where the gunman disappeared after you collapsed, but at the moment, it is the least of your concerns. Glancing down, you can see three distinct holes in your suit, each one gushing blood. Normally, that should be the most worrisome part of the problem. However, your breath catches in your throat as you notice the faint green sheen mixed with your blood.

But Jason hasn’t realized that yet. Ripping off his helmet to get a better look at your wound, he asks, “What’s going on? How did this happen?”

“I think– I think they were made for my father. Kryptonite bullets.”

The realization of what this means slowly passes over Jason’s face. “That’s why they didn’t just bounce off you. You have Kryptonite buried in your chest?”

“Not just there. It’s some sort of poison bullet that’s releasing it into my system. I can feel it like acid in my veins. Spreading throughout my body.” You cry out as a fresh wave of pain hits you. “God! It hurts so much.”

“I’m calling Supes. Maybe he can–”

“No, Jay, don’t you get it? Even just being near me right now will weaken him. And those guys could still be around waiting for that. I can’t d–do that to him.” You shudder again at the pain and Jason uses his hands to cover your wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay,” he whispers softly into your ear. But you can clearly tell that he doesn’t fully believe the words he is saying.

Jason helps you shift slightly against his chest, trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Looking down, you can see blood still spilling from between his fingers, the crimson puddle tinted with a faint green glow as it grows beneath you. 

“What can I do? There has to be something I can do,” Jason pleads.

“I don’t think there is.” Suddenly, you realize everything seems different, muted. You can no longer see or hear anything clearly beyond this rooftop. Your body feels weaker than it has ever felt before, and not just from the pain or your injury. And when you put all the concentration you can muster into lifting yourself even half an inch off the ground, you can’t even manage to make yourself twitch. Everything that made you special, everything you had inherited from your father is just… gone.

Leaning your head back against Jason’s neck, you ask, “Is this…. Is this what it feels like?”

“What does what feel like, baby?” he asks, stroking your hair gently.

“To be human?”

The question catches Jason off guard. “Um, I–I don’t know. I guess so.”

“I don’t think I like it very much.” Another shiver of pain washes over you and you bury your face in Jason’s neck, hoping to muffle the moan that rumbles in your throat.

But Jason still hears it. “That’s it. I’m calling your dad.”

“No,” you mutter weakly. “I told you–”

“We don’t have a choice. I don’t know enough about Kryptonite or Kryptonian anatomy to help you, but he does. Don’t you think he would want to help you even if it meant feeling the effects of the Kryptonite?”

You are silent for a moment, but you know that he is right. Your dad would have wanted to be here the second you were hurt, regardless of the danger it might put him in. So, reluctantly, you nod. 

Jason removes his hand from your chest – it hadn’t been doing much to stop the blood flow anyway – and he pulls a phone from his pocket. You allow your eyes to drift closed as you listen to him quickly explain what happened and just moments later, there is a loud thud on the other side of the roof.

Peeling your eyes open, you see the familiar red-and-blue suit reflecting in the dim light. Your dad takes a step forward into the light and you can see the concern and fear etched onto his face as he stares at you, his eyes watery and his breathing uneven. He starts to walk towards you, but he stumbles slightly as the first effects of the Kryptonite hit him. 

He tries to take another step, but you mumble, “Please. Don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Your words are just barely more than a whisper but even across the distance, you know he hears you clear as day. The reluctance is evident on his face, yet he follows your wishes and remains where he is at.

Jason stares at the Man of Steel, the desperation in his voice as he asks, “What do we do? How do we help her?”

“I-I don’t know,” your dad admits, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “If there is Kryptonite all through her body like you said, I don’t know how we get it out. Normally, Kryptonite by itself isn’t lethal, but no Kryptonian has been exposed this intimately to this amount. And from what I can see, she’s fading fast.”

“But she’s not just Kryptonian….” Jason whispers, as he gazes down at you. Then his head snaps up, and in a stronger voice says, “Clark, she’s just as human as she is Kryptonian. I don’t think it’s actually the Kryptonite in her veins that’s killing her. It’s the bullets. The Kryptonite just made her lose her healing abilities. So, if we just treat this like any old bullet wound, I think she might be okay.”

Your dad considers for a moment before nodding. “It’s possible, and let’s pray it’s true because it’s her only hope. We need to get those bullets out and then get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.”

Jason nods. “Okay. How do we do that?”

“We get help from the quickest person we know.” He pulls out a device and speaks into it. After only a few words, the rooftop shakes slightly as a gust of wind roars past and when you blink, you see Barry standing there with his usual grin on his face.

“You called?” But the smile slips as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh my god! What happened? Is she alright?”

“No, but we’re hoping you could help with that,” your dad explains. “She was shot three times with Kryptonite bullets, and we need to get them out of her. I can’t do it, but can you?”

Barry nodded. “I think so.” Crossing the rooftop, he kneels down beside you. Even in his bright red suit, you are having trouble focusing on him as your vision begins to blur. But you feel the light pressure as Barry places his hand on your arm. “Hey, Kid.”

“Hey, Skidmark,” you mumble weakly.

Barry chuckles. “I’ll let that slide this time since you’re hurt.” His face turns serious as he adds, “And because what’s about to happen isn’t going to feel great.”

Turning towards Jason, he says, “I need you to hold her as still as possible in case she squirms. It might take me a minute to locate all three bullets and the more she moves, the longer I’ll have to keep searching.” Jason nods and his grip on your shoulders tightens.

Barry positions his fingers just above your wound but hesitates as he glances at your face. You nod slightly and he turns his focus back to your chest. His hand begins to move so quickly, it becomes nothing more than a blur. Then, he moves it lower, phasing it through your chest. 

Instantly, you seize up. The intense vibrations reverberate through your entire body, but the proximity of his fingers to your heart and lungs causes them to freeze. Your eyes roll back in your head as you silently gasp for air. Jason is trying to hold you down but it is difficult when your entire body is spasming violently. You vaguely hear Barry, your dad, and Jason yelling at each other, but you can’t make out a single word they are saying. 

Then, mercifully, the vibrations are gone. All your muscles relax and your head falls limply against Jason’s shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Jason rubs his hand over your hair as he whispers that it’s over and how good you did. You aren’t really sure you did anything, but you are too weak and light-headed to correct him. 

From the other side of the roof, your dad calls out, “Barry, get her to the med bay on the Watchtower. They should be able to treat her there. Then, destroy those bullets.”

Barry nods before holding out his arms and Jason helps to ease your broken form into them. However, just as Barry is about to take off, you feebly stretch your fingers towards Jason. He takes your hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You swallow heavily and force the words to spill from your lips. “I need you to know… if I had known what those bullets were… I still would have taken them for you…No regrets…”

Your hand goes limp in his grasp as the last of your energy is depleted. Leaning forward, Jason gently places your hand on your chest before kissing your forehead. Then, with his lips still hovering just above your skin, he whispers, “I love you. No regrets.”

Stepping back, he nods at Barry. The speedster tightens his hold on you and says, “Hold on.” Then he takes off.

As you feel that familiar initial whoosh of moving at super speed, you finally allow yourself to succumb to the darkness.

Taglist: @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @zebralover, @lolzghost, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club, @blue-aconite

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Not So Invincible After All

Whumpuary 2023: Prompt 3. Shot

2023 Year of Whump: Jan 1. Whispered Reassurances

Fandom: DC, Batman, Jason Todd, Red Hood, f!reader, Superman/Lois Lane's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Tired of living in your father's shadow, you move to Gotham where you meet Jason Todd. As the two of you become an unstoppable team (in love and crimefighting), everything seems perfect. Until something goes wrong...

Word Count: 3417

TW: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Gun Shot, Blood, Loss of powers, Pain, Ambiguous Ending, Language

Notes: Thank you to @icarusthefoolish for this request!

Moving to Gotham City is not a hard decision to make. You need to get out of your father’s shadow in Metropolis and the heroes of Gotham could use some extra help after Bruce’s death and Dick taking over the mantle as Batman. So, it seems like the perfect spot for you to start your solo career as a superhero. However, it is only right to get permission from those already protecting the city first.

To your utter embarrassment, your father sets up the meeting for you and insists on coming. Though you are an adult, he still treats you like a child. But, as much as you try to argue against it, once your mother steps in and says he is going, all arguments are over. Not even you argued with Lois Lane when she took that tone.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside Wayne Manor with your arms crossed over the S emblem on your chest, staring down the remaining members of the Batfamily. You had known Bruce extremely well, you had never met any of his wards before, though you knew who they all were.

Damien seems unimpressed by you and quickly turns his attention to other things after his introduction. Tim is the complete opposite, practically bouncing up and down as he shakes your hand and tries to ask you a million questions. Luckily, Dick gently pushes him to the side, reminding him there will be time for that later. The new Batman is so different from Bruce and yet you can still see flashes of his late guardian in the way he holds himself and addresses the situation at hand. Which just left Jason. The formerly dead vigilante didn’t say anything while you were introduced, but his eyes never leave your face the entire time your dad is explaining the situation. There is a playful twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite understand, but you push it to the back of your mind as your dad finishes up and lifts up into the sky, drifting back a few dozen feet to give you some space for once.

Your eyes quickly flicker across each of the heroes in front of you and you clear your throat. “So, basically what Dad said. I want to leave Metropolis, you guys seem to need an extra set of hands around here– it seems like a win-win.”

For the first time, Damien speaks up. “Who says we need ‘extra hands’? We are protecting the city just fine without assistance.”

You lock eyes with the young Robin, completely unfazed by the death stare he is giving you. “Listen, kid. You guys are doing fine, but don’t think you are living up to The Bat’s legacy, at least not yet. I might not be living in Gotham at the moment, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been keeping an eye on things. Dick is doing an admirable job of being Batman, but it’s pretty obvious he’s just one of the birds playing dress up. And I’m not the only one who's noticed. The criminals in this city are getting bolder and sooner or later, one of them is going to do something the four of you can’t handle. So, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine. There are a million other cities I can move to. But then don’t come crying to me when you get your asses handed to you and you need someone to save you, because I might not be interested anymore.”

Damien continues to stare you down for a moment, then slowly nods, breaking eye contact. And with that, you know you have earned the respect of the one person who you really needed to win over tonight.

Elbowing Tim in the ribs, Jason grins as he mutters, “Wow. I never expected to hear something like that coming from the boy scout’s daughter.” 

One side of your mouth quirks up in a sly smile as your superhearing picks up on what he said. Turning your gaze so you are staring directly into his eyes, you say, “Then you’ve never met my mother. I might get my powers from my father, but I get my spirit and my wicked tongue from her.”

You can see the gears working in Jason’s head as the response forms. The way his heartbeat speeds up slightly, the slight dilation of his pupils, how his jaw tightens as he forces himself not to make the witty comment he desperately wants to but can’t with your father still hovering feet away. And that makes the smile on your lips widen.

The rest of the meeting runs smoothly. It is agreed that you can stay in Gotham and help protect its people as long as you don’t get in the Batfamily’s way. However, they do extend an invitation to team up with them whenever you want. You doubt it will happen, but it is nice to know that option is there.

You say goodbye to your dad and watch as he flies away. Once he is out of sight of even your advanced vision, you pivot sharply and strut straight up to Jason. 

He seems slightly startled by your brash confrontation, but he stands his ground. As you reach him, you lean over until your lips lightly brush the curve of his ear, and you whisper, “Maybe if you play your cards right, I can show you how wicked this tongue can get.” 

With your powers, you can sense the multitude of physical reactions your words send through his body and you chuckle as you pat his cheek before flying off into the night. 

As it turns out, Jason played his cards very right seeing as you end up waking up in his bed less than a week later. And you haven’t left since. Now, after almost five months of living in Gotham, you and Jason have become the ultimate team, in and out of your costumes. Despite both of your tempers, sarcastic natures, and constant desire to push back against the ideals of your fathers, the two of you balance each other out in some strange way. 

And Jason is never intimidated by your powers or your nigh invulnerability. In fact, he is nothing but supportive of them. In fights, you quickly find a rhythm where you go after the strongest opponent while Jason covers you or takes out the weaker opponents. It’s a system that never seems to fail, and the two of you seem unstoppable.

Until one night….

Jason is chasing two men through the streets. They just robbed Gotham National Bank but for some reason, ditched the bags of money fairly quickly as they tried to lose Jason. But he just let you gather up the forfeited money and fly it back to the bank while he continued his chase. 

By the time you return and spot him, he has chased the men onto the roof of a building. Just as the men realize they are trapped and this will be a fight, you land next to Jason with a grin.

“Hello, boys. What seems to be the trouble here?”

The men exchange angry glances and one of them hisses loudly to the other, “What do we do? We wanted Superman, not Superbitch.”

“Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!” Jason growls, taking a step closer, but you place a hand on his chest, halting him.

“Well, you shitheads are in the wrong city then. Superman doesn’t come here. This is my turf. So, does that mean you want to just give up now, or are we going to have a little fun tonight?” The men exchange glances then pull out their guns. You nod. “Okay, then. Fun it is.”

Before they can react, you have crossed the distance between you and grab one of the men by his jacket and soar up into the air. The man immediately drops his gun as he frantically clutches at your arms, trying to hold on as tightly as he can. But it makes little difference. With a cheeky grin, you release your grip. The man only has a fraction of a second to realize what is about to happen before he plummets towards the ground. 

You continue to hover in the air as you watch him fall farther and farther, his screams of terror slowly growing fainter. Finally, when he is just a few dozen feet from the ground, you sigh and soar downward. You reach him just before he hits the ground, wrapping your arms around his chest and holding him about a foot in the air. 

He continues to scream even once you set him back on the sidewalk, his legs giving out from under him as he collapses in a heap. Bending over to peer down at him, you ask, “Now, are you going to be a good boy and stay put until the cops show up, or do we have to try that again?”

He pales at the very thought and clutches your leg. “N-n-no! Please! N-not again!”

Patting his head, you say, “Good boy. Now, let’s see if your friend is as agreeable.” And you launch yourself back into the air towards the top of the building. 

When you reach the roof, you see Jason has dealt with the other man who is lying face down on the far side of the building. Jason looks up as you land and even through his helmet, you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “Did you catch this one in time?”

“One time! I missed one time! And I still stopped him before he was permanently injured. Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Nope.” He starts to cross the roof to you.

But just then, you both hear a sound behind him, and turn to look. The man Jason had knocked down has climbed back to his feet, and before Jason can react, the man raises his gun and fires three shots straight at his chest.

“Nice try,” you smirk as you streak forward at superspeed, stopping just in front of Jason as the bullets soar toward him.

However, the smirk drops from your face as the bullets don’t bounce harmlessly off you as expected. Instead, they drive deep into your chest, just above your heart. The force of the impact causes you to stumble backward into Jason, who flinches slightly in surprise at your sudden appearance and collision with him. 

Instantly, it feels like all of your strength is being sapped from your body and you collapse heavily against Jason’s chest. Luckily, he has a firm grip on your waist and keeps you from falling completely. Drawing you in, he lowers both of you to the ground and allows you to lean against him with your legs out in front of you.

Neither of you saw where the gunman disappeared after you collapsed, but at the moment, it is the least of your concerns. Glancing down, you can see three distinct holes in your suit, each one gushing blood. Normally, that should be the most worrisome part of the problem. However, your breath catches in your throat as you notice the faint green sheen mixed with your blood.

But Jason hasn’t realized that yet. Ripping off his helmet to get a better look at your wound, he asks, “What’s going on? How did this happen?”

“I think– I think they were made for my father. Kryptonite bullets.”

The realization of what this means slowly passes over Jason’s face. “That’s why they didn’t just bounce off you. You have Kryptonite buried in your chest?”

“Not just there. It’s some sort of poison bullet that’s releasing it into my system. I can feel it like acid in my veins. Spreading throughout my body.” You cry out as a fresh wave of pain hits you. “God! It hurts so much.”

“I’m calling Supes. Maybe he can–”

“No, Jay, don’t you get it? Even just being near me right now will weaken him. And those guys could still be around waiting for that. I can’t d–do that to him.” You shudder again at the pain and Jason uses his hands to cover your wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay,” he whispers softly into your ear. But you can clearly tell that he doesn’t fully believe the words he is saying.

Jason helps you shift slightly against his chest, trying to make you as comfortable as possible. Looking down, you can see blood still spilling from between his fingers, the crimson puddle tinted with a faint green glow as it grows beneath you. 

“What can I do? There has to be something I can do,” Jason pleads.

“I don’t think there is.” Suddenly, you realize everything seems different, muted. You can no longer see or hear anything clearly beyond this rooftop. Your body feels weaker than it has ever felt before, and not just from the pain or your injury. And when you put all the concentration you can muster into lifting yourself even half an inch off the ground, you can’t even manage to make yourself twitch. Everything that made you special, everything you had inherited from your father is just… gone.

Leaning your head back against Jason’s neck, you ask, “Is this…. Is this what it feels like?”

“What does what feel like, baby?” he asks, stroking your hair gently.

“To be human?”

The question catches Jason off guard. “Um, I–I don’t know. I guess so.”

“I don’t think I like it very much.” Another shiver of pain washes over you and you bury your face in Jason’s neck, hoping to muffle the moan that rumbles in your throat.

But Jason still hears it. “That’s it. I’m calling your dad.”

“No,” you mutter weakly. “I told you–”

“We don’t have a choice. I don’t know enough about Kryptonite or Kryptonian anatomy to help you, but he does. Don’t you think he would want to help you even if it meant feeling the effects of the Kryptonite?”

You are silent for a moment, but you know that he is right. Your dad would have wanted to be here the second you were hurt, regardless of the danger it might put him in. So, reluctantly, you nod. 

Jason removes his hand from your chest – it hadn’t been doing much to stop the blood flow anyway – and he pulls a phone from his pocket. You allow your eyes to drift closed as you listen to him quickly explain what happened and just moments later, there is a loud thud on the other side of the roof.

Peeling your eyes open, you see the familiar red-and-blue suit reflecting in the dim light. Your dad takes a step forward into the light and you can see the concern and fear etched onto his face as he stares at you, his eyes watery and his breathing uneven. He starts to walk towards you, but he stumbles slightly as the first effects of the Kryptonite hit him. 

He tries to take another step, but you mumble, “Please. Don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Your words are just barely more than a whisper but even across the distance, you know he hears you clear as day. The reluctance is evident on his face, yet he follows your wishes and remains where he is at.

Jason stares at the Man of Steel, the desperation in his voice as he asks, “What do we do? How do we help her?”

“I-I don’t know,” your dad admits, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. “If there is Kryptonite all through her body like you said, I don’t know how we get it out. Normally, Kryptonite by itself isn’t lethal, but no Kryptonian has been exposed this intimately to this amount. And from what I can see, she’s fading fast.”

“But she’s not just Kryptonian….” Jason whispers, as he gazes down at you. Then his head snaps up, and in a stronger voice says, “Clark, she’s just as human as she is Kryptonian. I don’t think it’s actually the Kryptonite in her veins that’s killing her. It’s the bullets. The Kryptonite just made her lose her healing abilities. So, if we just treat this like any old bullet wound, I think she might be okay.”

Your dad considers for a moment before nodding. “It’s possible, and let’s pray it’s true because it’s her only hope. We need to get those bullets out and then get her to a hospital as quickly as possible.”

Jason nods. “Okay. How do we do that?”

“We get help from the quickest person we know.” He pulls out a device and speaks into it. After only a few words, the rooftop shakes slightly as a gust of wind roars past and when you blink, you see Barry standing there with his usual grin on his face.

“You called?” But the smile slips as he takes in the scene before him. “Oh my god! What happened? Is she alright?”

“No, but we’re hoping you could help with that,” your dad explains. “She was shot three times with Kryptonite bullets, and we need to get them out of her. I can’t do it, but can you?”

Barry nodded. “I think so.” Crossing the rooftop, he kneels down beside you. Even in his bright red suit, you are having trouble focusing on him as your vision begins to blur. But you feel the light pressure as Barry places his hand on your arm. “Hey, Kid.”

“Hey, Skidmark,” you mumble weakly.

Barry chuckles. “I’ll let that slide this time since you’re hurt.” His face turns serious as he adds, “And because what’s about to happen isn’t going to feel great.”

Turning towards Jason, he says, “I need you to hold her as still as possible in case she squirms. It might take me a minute to locate all three bullets and the more she moves, the longer I’ll have to keep searching.” Jason nods and his grip on your shoulders tightens.

Barry positions his fingers just above your wound but hesitates as he glances at your face. You nod slightly and he turns his focus back to your chest. His hand begins to move so quickly, it becomes nothing more than a blur. Then, he moves it lower, phasing it through your chest. 

Instantly, you seize up. The intense vibrations reverberate through your entire body, but the proximity of his fingers to your heart and lungs causes them to freeze. Your eyes roll back in your head as you silently gasp for air. Jason is trying to hold you down but it is difficult when your entire body is spasming violently. You vaguely hear Barry, your dad, and Jason yelling at each other, but you can’t make out a single word they are saying. 

Then, mercifully, the vibrations are gone. All your muscles relax and your head falls limply against Jason’s shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Jason rubs his hand over your hair as he whispers that it’s over and how good you did. You aren’t really sure you did anything, but you are too weak and light-headed to correct him. 

From the other side of the roof, your dad calls out, “Barry, get her to the med bay on the Watchtower. They should be able to treat her there. Then, destroy those bullets.”

Barry nods before holding out his arms and Jason helps to ease your broken form into them. However, just as Barry is about to take off, you feebly stretch your fingers towards Jason. He takes your hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You swallow heavily and force the words to spill from your lips. “I need you to know… if I had known what those bullets were… I still would have taken them for you…No regrets…”

Your hand goes limp in his grasp as the last of your energy is depleted. Leaning forward, Jason gently places your hand on your chest before kissing your forehead. Then, with his lips still hovering just above your skin, he whispers, “I love you. No regrets.”

Stepping back, he nods at Barry. The speedster tightens his hold on you and says, “Hold on.” Then he takes off.

As you feel that familiar initial whoosh of moving at super speed, you finally allow yourself to succumb to the darkness.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @11thstreetvigilante, @merlehs,@mayhem24-7forever, @sunshineflowerchild789, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @schaarfyx, @happinessricardotapia, @wildbornsiren, @whumpuary

[iwritewhump]

Whispered Reassurances

year of whump 2023

characters: kier, ryker (ocs from this post)

warnings: android whump

719 words

next | masterpost

a/n: these characters will be the main ones for this challenge, but some of the prompts don’t fit with them so I’ll write those ones with other characters :)

~

Kier pushes into the small dwelling he calls a home and calls out to his roommate. 

“Hey Ryker! You forgot to lock the door…again.” he sets a bag on the ground under the barely functioning coat rack and sighs. “Do I need to update your memory or something? Because if I do, I have time tonight.” He walks further into the entryway and pokes his head past the kitchen doorway. “I made it to the thrift store and got some clothes that fit the vibe you said you wanted.” he frowns when he doesn’t see the droid standing over the stove. “Where are you?”

Kier hears a sigh from Ryker’s room and nods once to himself. “Did your legs lock up again? Just let me take them apart and fix them!” 

“My legs are not a wristwatch you can just take apart and try to fix.” Ryker shouts from her room. “And what happens when you get bored and just leave them on the workbench? Am I supposed to fix them myself?” 

Kier pokes his head into her room with a smile, “You could. It’s not illegal or anything.” he sets the bag from the thrift store on the ground and tilts his head. “Those are my clothes.”

She wrings her hands together and smoothes the pink shirt down nervously, “I was really tired of what you gave me so I went through some of your old ones. I hope you don’t mind. They’re just your ‘family’s in town’ clothes.” 

He shakes his head, “Yeah, no. It’s fine. But! That means to pay me back you’re gonna have to let me fix your legs. And also dye my wings tomorrow. They’re growing back faster, I swear.” 

“Whatever. Just…promise you’ll put me back together by tomorrow.” she says. “And let me borrow your computer while you do it?” 

He hums, picks her up and throws her over his shoulder, grunting with the effort. They slowly make their way to the kitchen and he sets her down next to the bar he’d fashioned into a workbench. She starts taking herself apart while he finds some of the tools he’ll need to fix her. 

“Alrighty,” he says, hands on his hips, “Ready?” 

“Forgetting something?” she asks. He tilts his head, shaking it slightly. She sighs, “The computer.” 

He snaps and points at her, “Right! I’ll be right back. Think you can move yourself to the bench?” 

Before she can respond, he’s running into his room and throwing things around in search of the computer. 

Ryker huffs and lifts herself off her legs and onto the workbench, moving her legs to lean against the wall. “I always told Ida it was a bad idea to let him get so much stuff.” 

“What was that?” 

“No-nothing. No, it was nothing.” she motions to the computer tucked under his arm, “Is that charged?” 

He nods and hands it to her before dragging her legs to his stool and leaning against the seat. 

He mutters softly to himself as he checks for any obvious issues. He gasps and picks up his tweezers before prodding them between tangled wires. 

Ryker looks up from the screen and smiles. Kier bites his tongue in concentration and she watches as he closes the tweezers around whatever he thought was the problem. 

“You’re doing great,” he whispers, mostly to himself. “Just a quick-there! Now pull it out.”  

“Ow!” Ryker gasps. 

Kier releases the tweezers and pulls his hands away instantly, looking at Ryker. “What’d I do?” 

She snickers and purses her lips. He huffs and puts his hands on his hips. 

“You fall for it everytime! I’m not ever going to stop.” she says, still laughing. 

“Asshole,” he says with a small smile. 

He takes the tweezers back in his hand and grabs the object again before pulling it out. He sets it on the bench and leans back. 

“Is that…” 

He nods. “I told you to be more careful when you bake.” 

She laughs and takes the walnut in her hand. “That was it? I honestly thought this was going to be a whole thing.” She tosses the walnut in the trash and closes the laptop. “Well, thanks.” 

He waves his hand and puts his tools back in the toolbox. “It was nothing. But you can put yourself back together.” 

[itbeaheadcannon]

hc that merlin and Gwen (who are besties btw) are absolutely running shit. Got a problem? Go to them - always to them. They're the ones who know the most about the castle and have full control of the royal schedules.

Uther does not know about this and neither does Arthur - however whenever either one of them pisses Merlin or Gwen off or they just do something like seriously fucked up (looking at you Uther you absolute ass) they bury them in work.

and I mean like bury them: making them wake up at like first light for an 'emergency' (apparently someone thought they saw a sorcerer) straight to training the Knights, to a meeting with the council to deal with the non-existant sorcerer, to confirmations of a celebration

they don't know what the celebration is for. (in truth it's not for anything, the castle just wanted an excuse for a party, and it's funny gaslighting the royals into thinking they approved some random ass celebration a few weeks ago)

The servants know and 100% annoy them with inane shit because their "input" is needed (no the fuck it's not, but getting to fuck over royalty is fun for them)

random servant #1 to Uther: Apologies for interrupting Sir, but the seamstress wanted to confirm time for your fitting for your outfit for the celebration tonight?

Uther, baffled asf running on 5hrs sleep: celebration? there is no celebration??? and what colour scheme

Servant #1 trying not to cackle: yes sir there is? you advised of it just last month - the seamstress just wanted to take last measurements

Servant #2 elbowing #1 to get their shit together: and the blue and purple scheme? You approved it over a month ago, and Prince Arthur confirmed last week before preparations were made.

(all the food is stuff Arthur and Uther barely tolerate and mildly hate and their alcohol is weak asf - meanwhile the knights and everyone else are eating amazingly, drunk off their asses)

more in the tags lol

[kavaleyre]

working late nights in the lab

[mazzystar24]

[lotuslate]

*has thoughts that completely obliterate me emotionally*

[royalthorned]

let’s talk about the sibling-esque relationship between harry and nagini more. they both carry a part of voldemort’s soul. they’re both trapped and tortured in their body’s. nagini is always whispering in the background of voldemort’s mind messages, and only him and harry can understand parsel-tongue. both are haunted by the physicality of his damage.

[thatskylynn]

this is made before moments ended, really enjoyed my time during this season(also the skid between jolly and nightbird is my skysona btw :3)

also here is the progress of this monster of a piece 😭 worked really hard on it

[aspirateur-killeuse]

[fisheito]

hiya l'il-- medium?...large?? Assorted Sizes-Guy

oh thanks! i could always use more spices-

. what am i supposed to do with this.

[pathologicalrunaway]

some more weird sky incorrect quotes but made by me this time!!! generating them is fun, but my imagination is a lot more unhinged lol

pianist: i like wearing my seahorse mask

pianist: when i wear it, nobody can tell what i'm looking at

pianist: *stares at cellist*

performance guide: i'm cold

frantic stagehand: here, take my coat

rhythm guide: i'm cold too!

enchantment guide: *sets rhythm on fire*

hopeful steward: this is urgent and cannot be postponed. i must do it immediately. nobody's allowed to disturb me untill the problem is dealt with

nesting guide: too bad, it's two minutes to your bed time

hopeful steward:

hopeful steward: fuck

tiptoeing tea-brewer: *walking around wearing a t-shirt that says "i went through a dozen traumatic experiences and all i got was this lousy t-shirt"*

hide'n'seek pioneer: you can't hide from your problems

hide'n'seek pioneer: but i can

hide'n'seek pioneer: *crawls underneath a table*

hide'n'seek pioneer: can't find me now, problems!

moments guide: the stars are beautiful today

reassuring ranger: yes

moments guide: you know what's more beautiful?

reassuring ranger: yes

moments guide: y- wait what?

reassuring ranger: that one cliff

moments guide:

nightbird whisperer, from behind the bushes: note: make sure the next place doesn't face the damn cliff

ascetic monk: *stands in the downpour*

nightbird whisperer: are you ok?

ascetic monk: yes

nightbird whisperer:

nightbird whisperer: okey-doke

nesting guide: roses are red

nesting guide: violets are blue

nesting guide: i'm colourblind and allergic to flowers

crab whisperer: when are you going to ask me out?

saluting captain: this is the first time i see you

crab whisperer: not what i asked

prophecy guide: why won't anyone hug and kiss and cuddle me?

water prophet: probably because you send people to certain death

prophecy guide:

prophecy guide: megabird forbid guides do anything

pointing candlemaker: oh, you've grown so much!

pointing candlemaker: i remember teaching you your first word

pointing candlemaker: and now you can speak as well as any of us

pointing candlemaker: so beautiful

moth: bitch fuck asshole

pointing candlemaker: *tears up*

[nikikikiko]

Making good progress on the fanfic whilst dealing with the ao3 author curse, and since chapter 4's rough draft is halfway completed: What better way to celebrate than to release some headcanons?

This round of Headcanons will focus on the imprisonment arc!

During imprisonment, Eugene didn't have access to his diary. Which would've been fine, but over the decade he was losing the tiny things. While he could remember the big things (what everyone looked like, the names, etc.)

he struggled badly with remembering Gavus' voice (it was slowly being replaced with his own, because he repeated words to not lose them).

He struggled to remember Lucilla's favorite color (was it pink? Blue? Red, or yellow? Did she change it?)

He struggled with remembering Liberta's favorite food (he wasn't sure if Liberta liked vegetables or not. He wasn't sure if that was Lucilla who threw the tantrum or if it was a rare tantrum from Liberta that day)

These things being lost to time, the small little things, they were being ripped away from him by a memory he had no control of. All he could do to keep the big things from being gone was repeating things to himself.

During imprisonment, Gavus had frequent visits from Morgana during the beginning stages. It often ended in fights, disagreements and arguments. She would never update him on Liberta's progress, no matter how many times he would ask.

Gavus saw the message she wasn't saying out loud quite clearly: Liberta was not his son, no matter how much he wanted to pretend. Liberta was her weapon.

Eventually, the visits grew faint, and by the fourth year of imprisonment, Gavus was left alone with no visitor. Left to rot away.

Frankly, the guard was a welcome addition to the silence of his cell.

Both Gavus and Eugene fantasized about breaking out, about finding each other. Eugene wondered if Gavus would be the same, and Gavus knew Eugene wouldn't change. There was nothing that could break a spirit like Eugene's, but there was no telling how many of the little things about Gavus were made up to fill in the gaps of Eugene's memory.

Eugene wasn't really visited much by anyone during his imprisonment, his only company were the guards and they were as brainless as the rocks that surrounded him.

Conrad would come by, once or twice, and conversation would always be one-sided. Eugene assumes that Conrad just liked to watch the Hypogean finally in 'his place', imprisoned and losing. No matter how smug Eugene forced himself to look and sound, Conrad always looked like he won.

[g004]

[noodlec0nsumer]

old man yaoi??

[butterflieswhisper]

i'm going to fucking scream