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pinkanonwrites · 4 days

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The Immensity of Vacancy

Energon Universe Jetfire/Human Reader, +1200 words

Just a little bittersweet something I wrote after the last issue of the Skybound comics came out. Jetfire my sweet, you did not deserve your fate.

ENERGON UNIVERSE COMIC SPOILERS AHEAD.

It was curious how even the most harrowing of circumstance could, with enough time and enough patience, shear down its jagged edges until it became something nearly palatable.

Not comfortable. Primus, no, never comfortable. But palatable.

Stars no longer graced Jetfire’s curious optics, all light snuffed in favor of an inky nothingness soothed only by memory. There could be no ache of stasis lock when the freedom of movement had been ripped from his frame entirely, left to the whims of his fellow Cybertronians. The breems of silence would stretch into cycles, tuning his remaining audials ever finer upon the low thrum of Teletraan, the rattle-step of Autobots passing through corridors below.

Perhaps that was why he could always hear you coming.

Your footsteps didn't boom or echo like those of Optimus Prime, never accompanied with the screech of tires like Arcee or Cliffjumper. Instead came the soft tink tink tink of tiny, booted feet against the resonant floor, the jangle of metallic jibbitz swinging from a clip on your belt. ‘Keys’ you had called them, though they were nothing like the data-keys or passcodes more familiar to him. ‘One for my car, one for my house, one for the back door at work.’ Primitive, but undeniably clever.

You always paused in the doorway of the hangar when you approached, a brief instance of silence. Perhaps you were waiting for a transformation from him, a flourish of panels shifting and plates fluttering into place to reveal his root mode, his towering form compared to your own tiny one. You knew as well as he did that idea was an impossibility, but you paused nonetheless.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

Jetfire spent much time in recharge nowadays, the only respite from the insurmountable emptiness that surrounded him that remained in his control. It was another consistency from you, willing to let him rest for untold lengths of time, as if your own presence was not wildly preferred.

“Yes. For quite a while now.”

You let out a soft, sad sounding hum. “I’m sorry I couldn't get here earlier.”

“That's alright. I’m sure you have much of your own work to attend to.”

“Maybe, but it's not really anything exciting.” He could hear the shuffle and thunk of your backpack hitting the metal landing bay, the pull of the zipper. When you settled in your spot on the floor and leaned back against his landing gear, heat radiated through the space where your back pressed to his cool plating. “Work, mostly. Had a late shift last night, so I ran to the library this morning instead. The librarian actually recognized me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I just didn't expect it. I never went there until recently, anyway. Guess now that I’m going in a couple days a week I’m becoming a regular. Imagine that.”

Jetfire let out a soft hum. “We’ll never be wanting for reading material then.”

You seemed to hesitate for a moment as you removed something from your bag, the flutter of paper against your fingertips tickling his audials.

“I brought a new book. ‘The War Of The Worlds’. It’s an old sci-fi classic.” You softly fanned through the pages again. “It’s about, um… It’s about aliens. That come to take over Earth. It was probably a stupid choice, we can read something different if you want.”

He could understand your hesitation. Though Jetfire had not spent long interacting with the local lifeforms of your planet, he’d heard more than enough from the other Autobots about the occurrences at the power plant; The terror, the violence. The story of a hostile occupation from beings infinitely more powerful and dangerous than the planet’s inhabitants could strike offensive if presented in the wrong way, to the wrong bot. And yet…

“I would like to hear it.”

He couldn’t help that part of himself that yearned to understand. To learn. How often would he get the chance to hear the perspective of another species, better yet from the species themselves? Considering his current state, likely never again.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t have to be this, I brought other books. To Kill A Mockingbird, Treasure Island, maybe some Shakespeare-?”

“No, I… I want to hear it. I’d like to understand.”

You hesitated further still, as if you were waiting for Jetfire to change his mind. Then you let out a small, huffy noise, like you were trying to clear your vents. Jetfire recognized the sound to be what you’d called a “sniffle”. Paper shuffled, you let out a low, steadying sigh, and began to read.

“No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own…”

You were a delightful narrator, though you’d often brush off Jetfire’s compliments as to the former. ‘You should hear David Attenborough!’ you’d reply, though Jetfire had no idea who this apparent man was. Your cadence and accent would adjust slightly when switching characters, like you were putting on a play. The first descriptions of the alien conquerors were read with a faux suspense, as if you could scare the Cybertronian with narration alone. And yet, when you came upon the paragraph describing the first human deaths, there did your energy began to falter. You shifted against his landing gear, swallowing thickly as you described the heat ray that jumped from man to man, ‘...as if each man were suddenly and momentarily turned to fire.’ Your hesitance didn’t seem to stem from the words themselves, but the context in who you were reading them to. Did the recent Decepticon attack on the hospital strike as close to home mentally as it did physically?

You paused again at the end of the chapter. Usually here Jetfire would have rattled off the questions he’d saved while you were reading, foreign concepts and names of unknown locations and the intricacies of human interaction that he didn’t quite comprehend. But he found himself in silence here as well. Not stunned, not scared, merely… contemplative.

“Sorry. It’s not too late to read something else, you know. Treasure Island’s still on the docket.” You murmured, fingers tapping absentmindedly along the book’s spine.

“There’s no need to apologize. Already it’s a fascinating tale.” He paused for a moment, mulling over his words. The question he was about to ask seemed painfully obvious. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave it unsaid. “Are all humans this afraid of… aliens?”

‘Will all humans be this afraid of us?’ He did not ask.

“I think…” You hummed, head thunking back against his landing gear plating. “I think that most humans are afraid of the unknown. The idea that there’s something out there we can’t understand. We don’t like being reminded that we aren’t actually in control. That at any point in time we could die.”

Jetfire thought back to Cybertron- the expeditions failed, the cities razed, the lives lost- and he understood the sentiment exactly.

“Would it comfort you to know that the experience isn’t uniquely human?”

You barked out a short laugh. “A little, actually.”

Jetfire had spent so much of his life in the cold. The cold of space. The cold of the ice. The cold of the silent, empty hangar. But here, in this moment, with your body pressed to his plating, your voice filling the blackness, he felt inexplicably warm.

“I’d still like to hear more, if you would continue.”

Though Jetfire could not see your smile, it was more than enough to hear it in your voice.

“Sure thing, big guy.”

#transformers #transformers x reader #x reader #jetfire #skyfire #tf skyfire #tf jetfire #energon universe #tf skybound #tf eu jetfire #jetfire x reader #my writing #maccadam

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 8 months

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That's What Family is For (Part 2)

Fandom: DC, Batman, Batfam, Damian Wayne, Batsis!reader, f!reader Summary: After being kidnapped and offering to take Damian's place to be tortured, you miraculously find yourself waking up back home. Damian has a new outlook on your relationship, but will a secret from your past ruin everything? Word Count: 5231 TW: Hospital, Aftermath of Torture, Mentions of Past Torture, Mentions of Death, Forced to Watch, Crying, Coma, Past Trauma Note: Today is the 2 year anniversary of posting Part 1 of this fic. Thank you so incredibly much for your patience and support as I worked on this and I hope it lives up to Part 1 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober

Part 1

You have no idea how long you were asleep for, but when you finally managed to drag yourself into consciousness, you couldn’t remember why every inch of your body was in a strange state of concurrent numbness and agony, or why you couldn’t seem to see out of your left eye. It was only when you caught sight of the two casts stretching from the soles of your feet up to the top of your thighs that it all came flooding back to you.

You and Damian had been kidnapped in an attempt to get a ransom from Bruce. To prove they meant business, the kidnappers were going to torture Damian but you had offered to take his place. What happened next was just a blur of blood and pain: The glint of a large knife. The blunt impact of a bat. But mercifully, you couldn’t remember much else. Just that it had been bad. Really bad.

You tried to take a mental inventory of what hurt and what sort of injuries you had sustained, but there was too much damage. All the individual pain bled into each other until it just felt like one massive wound. Every breath you took made your chest, ribs, and throat ache, your head was pounding, and you couldn’t move either leg or your left arm. All you could manage was a slight turn of your head as you looked towards the door but even that small motion sent new waves of pain through you, causing a low moan to slip from your lips.

Almost instantly, Jason came rushing into the room, panic etched onto his face. Yet the second he saw you looking at him, his face split into a massive grin. The kind you couldn’t remember seeing on him since he returned from the dead. And despite everything, that sight warmed your heart.

Licking your cracked lips, you tried to speak but nothing happened. Swallowing a few times, you finally managed a barely audible, “Hey, Jaybird.”

The words sounded funny, thick and slightly lispy but Jay’s smile only widened. He hurried to your bedside and dropped into the chair that had been left there. “Damn, sis. You look terrible.”

You knew he was trying to keep the mood light, but you could hear the tears hiding just behind his words. Giving your best attempt at a smile, you croaked, “Even like this, I bet I still look better than you.”

“Yeah, probably,” he chuckled. “That voice though…. They said it would probably be hard to speak for a few days because of the tube and–” He cut himself off, but you knew what he was going to say. Because all your screams of pain had damaged it.

Swallowing again, you tried to make your voice sound as normal as possible. “Yeah, well, you better be careful. You keep smoking all those cigarettes, this is what you’ll sound like in a few years.”

“Even now you gotta hassle me about those?”

“If you would just quit, I wouldn’t have to get on you about the–”

Your words were cut off as your body fell prey to a fit of coughing. It tore at your throat like daggers and your chest felt like it was shattering into pieces. It only lasted for a few seconds but when it passed, you were left panting and moaning in pain.

When you finally managed to pull yourself together once more and looked back at Jason, his smile had completely vanished, replaced with a thin-lipped grimace. His eyes drifted over your broken body before returning to your face. “So… Honestly. How do you feel?”

“How do you think?” you wheezed. “Like someone ran over me with.. with a… wit– oh forget it. I’m in too much pain to think of something clever. I feel shitty.”

“What hurts?”

“The easier question is ‘what doesn’t hurt?’. And why can’t I open my left eye?”

“Alfred taped it closed for now. It looked pretty messed up.”

You nod slightly. “Permanent?”

“Not sure,” he muttered, staring down at the floor. “They had to wait until you woke up to fully assess the damage.”

You nodded again, the dread growing in the pit of your stomach. But you have to know the answer to your next question, no matter how terrifying the answer might be. In a small voice, you ask, “How bad overall?”

Jason hesitated. “Maybe you should wait for Bruce or Alfred to–”

“How bad, Jay?”

Still avoiding your eye, he shifted in his chair before answering. “Bad. The worst of the damage is on your left side. Your arm was dislocated, your cheekbone was destroyed, you’re missing several teeth, and your eye is… well, I already mentioned that. Also, most of your ribs were pretty much shattered and the ones that weren’t are cracked. The pieces punctured your lungs in multiple places. Your legs…The knives thankfully missed all the major arteries, but Alfred said there still might be some nerve damage.”

“Is that all?” You had meant for the question to be sarcastic, but the quiver in your voice made it sound more like a desperate plea.

Jason took a long, deep breath. “It also took eight surgeries, four blood transfusions, and three resuscitations to get you stable.”

“Yeah, that feels about right.” You clenched your jaw tightly as you struggled to hold back your tears, but that just sent a fresh jolt of pain through your mouth. Using your tongue, you gently prod the three new gaps where teeth used to be. No wonder your words sounded funny.

In a soft whisper, you asked, “I’m done, aren’t I? There’s no coming back from this, not really. Even if I can get back to a halfway normal state, I’m never going to be able to put the costume back on. No going on patrol, no more protecting the city, no more being a hero.”

A small sob bubbled in your throat. When Bruce had taken you in all those years ago, you were a mess. Every night, you woke up screaming from nightmares—memories—of watching your parents tortured to death in front of you while you were helpless to do anything. You had felt so powerless. But then Bruce told you about his secret life. That he was the man in the mask who had rescued you from that horrible place. And he taught you how to be strong, how to be for others what he had been for you. He had given your life a purpose but now….it had been taken from you just like your parents had been.

As the tears began to slip down your face, Jason carefully took your hand, rubbing the back with his thumb as he leaned in to stare you directly in your good eye. “Hey, don’t think that way. Bruce was able to come back from a broken back, I came back from the dead, and you… you can come back from this. It’s not gonna be easy and it’ll take a lot of hard work, but if anyone can do it, you can.”

The tears began to flow faster as you finally let the sob you had been holding back free. Squeezing Jason’s hand as tightly as you were able, you cried, “Thank you, Jay. Thank you for everything. I can’t even imagine making it through what comes next without my brothers by my side.”

Jason snatched his hand back from your grasp and pushed back in his chair, his expression growing dark as he spat, “Don’t. Don’t thank me. While you were sacrificing everything for Damian, while you were lying there dying, I was here. Too weak to help you when you needed me most.”

“Jay–”

“I wanted to be there, I did, I just…” His sharp tone crumbled into a near sob as he buried his face in his hands. “I was fine until he picked up the bat. Then it all came rushing back. All I could see was the Joker standing over me with that crowbar and…and I….” His hands muffled his cries, but you could still see the way his shoulders shook as he sobbed.

You had forgotten that they had sent a live feed of your torture to all of Wayne Industries which was probably how Bruce had located you and Damian. Jason never talked about what had happened to him all those years ago in that warehouse, but you had been waiting in the Batcave when Bruce had brought Jason’s body home. You still remembered the bruises and blunt force trauma that couldn’t have been made from the explosion. And you also recalled how the sight of your brother’s broken form sent you into a hysterical fit, not only over the loss of the boy you loved like family but also because it brought back all of the scars from your parents’ deaths. You had felt incredibly guilty later once Bruce and Alfred calmed you down that you had made Jason’s death all about you and your past traumas. But Bruce reminded you that your pain and grief was valid, whenever it hit you, and despite the circumstances, you needed to take care of yourself first or you weren’t going to be able to help anyone else.

Just like Jason needed to take care of whatever horrors he had relived before coming to help you.

It took a lot of determination and concentration, but you slowly moved your hand towards Jason. Luckily, he was sitting on your right side since that was the only arm you could move at the moment, but it still took an achingly long time to close the short distance between you.

As you lay your hand on his shoulder, his head jerked up. When he saw what you had done, his eyes—the blue magnified by the tears about to fall—grew wide. Smiling, you brushed your fingertips lightly across his cheek and said, “Jay, I understand why you didn’t come. There was nothing you could have done and you needed a chance to deal with your own pain. And I’m sorry that I was the reason you had to relive that experience.”

Jason shook his head furiously and clutched at your hand. “No! This was not your fault! All you did was protect Damian. The only person to blame is that psychopath Moore.” His face darkened. “Bruce better be glad they threw that son of a bitch in Blackgate because if he had gotten away, nothing and no one would have stopped me from hunting him down and putting a bullet between his eyes.”

“See? You are such a loving, protective brother who would do anything for me.” His expression softened slightly. “Besides, you even just admitted. Moore is the only one to blame here. Not me, and not you. So, please, don’t beat yourself up over this. I’m still here and I need you now more than ever.” You squeezed his hand as tightly as you were able and after a moment, he returned both the squeeze and the smile. You nodded softly then changed the subject. “How is Damian handling all of this?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Jason nodded towards the other side of the room.

It took you a moment and quite a bit of pain to turn your head enough so your right eye could see where he was gesturing, but when you managed it, your smile grew wider.

Curled into a tight ball, Damian was fast asleep on the couch on the far side of the room. He looked so small and it reminded you that despite his upbringing, he was still just a kid, which made you feel better about your condition. If one of you had to be lying in this bed, you would have offered yourself up every time.

Jason chuckled softly to himself as he saw your face. “He’s barely left the room since they brought the two of you home. Bruce tried getting him to go back to school the last two days, but he flat-out refused. Said he wasn’t going anywhere until you woke up.”

“Really? That doesn’t sound like Damian.”

“Well, I think his actual words were ‘Tt. Father, I cannot be bothered with those trivial lessons while my sister’s fate is still uncertain. I am needed here. Yes, I have a geography test next week, but I have traveled to more countries than my so-called teacher could even possibly name. This is more important.’”

Despite the mocking—though fairly accurate—impression Jason had made, your eyes welled up with tears once more. Damian had called you ‘sister’. It was the first time you could ever remember him doing so. No. That wasn’t true. He had said it when Bruce and Dick had shown up to save them. In fact, the echoing word was the last thing you remembered before the world had gone dark.

Swallowing hard to clear your throat, you asked, “Um, do you think…Would he be upset if I asked you to wake him up?”

“Yo! Demon Spawn! Wake up!” Before you could stop him, Jason hurled a pillow across the room so it slammed into Damian’s sleeping form.

The kid instantly leaped to his feet in a crouched position, ready to take on any and all attackers. But he straightened up when he saw Jason’s smug grin and your weak smile staring back at him instead. Rushing to your side, he said, “Sister! You are awake!”

You tilted your head slightly to look at him better. “So are you. Sorry for the rude wake-up. That was all Jay.”

“Hey!” Jason huffed indignantly. “You asked me to wake him up and I did! You just never said how.”

Damian glared at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes, Todd has been exceedingly insufferable this last week while you have been injured—”

“W-week? I’ve been out of it for a week?” You felt your blood run cold. You knew things were bad, but for some reason the thought of you laying in this bed unconscious for the past 7 days made your condition seem so much worse.

Jason and Damian exchanged a worried look. Then Jason cleared his throat and said, “Yeah…. It's been eight days since you and Damian were kidnapped. They had to keep you in a medically induced coma for the first five days while they operated. Then when they brought you out, they had to dope you up with so many pain meds that you were out of it even when you were awake. They tried to lower your dose but they had to up them again when they removed the breathing tube and you wouldn’t stop moaning…So, yeah. It’s been a week.”

You let your head fall back against the pillow as tears began to sting your eyes. Obviously, it would have taken you time to recover from that level of injury, but a week? No, actually, eight days. And that was just the start of your recovery. The amount of time, therapy, and hard work it would take you just to be able to stand again, let alone walk or fight, was dizzying to think about. Despite the fact Jason had reassured you differently, you didn’t see how you weren’t done after this. How were you supposed to bounce back?

As the tears finally became too much and began slipping down your face, you whispered, “You all should have just let me go.”

“No!” The ferocity in Damian’s voice startled you and you looked over to see his small hands curled into tight fists as his face bore a determined scowl that could rival Bruce’s. “No. You do not get to give up. Not now. Not now that the worst of it is behind you. You never once gave up while we were captured. Despite everything that sadistic fiend did to you, you fought to protect me. We would not have been in that situation if it was not for me and I will repay my debt to you by remaining by your side to ensure you get through this.”

You stared at Damian for a long time, a mix of pride, adoration, and guilt stirring in your chest. Seeing how he wanted to stand by you and help you through what came next meant the world to you. The Damian who climbed into your car eight days ago wouldn’t have done so. However, you couldn’t let him make such a vow without knowing all the facts.

Shifting your eye to look at Jason, you muttered, “Can you give us a minute alone?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and his younger brother, but finally, he nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go let everyone else know you’re not only awake but coherent this time. They’ll want to see you.”

“Thanks, Jay. I’ll have Damian let you know when we’re done.”

He nodded, shot Damian one last look, and left the room.

Now that you were alone, you carefully motioned for Damian to take the chair Jason had been sitting in earlier and he silently did as you wished…for once. He looked so small compared to the memory of Jason’s hulking form sitting there just moments before and tears once more stung your eyes as it hit you all over again how young he was to have experienced what the two of you just went through. You hadn’t planned on having this conversation until you were a little better, but he deserved to know the truth and not continue blaming himself for what happened.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “It’s not your fault, Dami. He was never after you. You were only there because of me.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “You have no proof of that. As you said in that warehouse, I am Father’s blood heir. If anyone was the target, it would have been me.”

You shook your head. “It was my car, Damian. The car I insisted you get in even though you didn’t want to. If I would’ve just let you walk home like you wanted–”

“They could have been monitoring me and adjusted their plans when I joined you in your vehicle. You still cannot be confident–”

“I know Moore.”

Damian blinked in surprise. “Yo–you what?”

You nodded sadly. “I know him. I didn’t realize it at first because it was so long ago and I’ve tried so hard to forget that day, but it was him. After I had passed out from Moore’s torture, they unhooked me from the chains and just let me drop to the floor. The pain of the landing woke me up for just a minute and I tried to beg them to put me back up because I knew otherwise they’d be coming for you, but I was in so much pain I could barely form a sentence. Moore saw I was awake and came to stand over me with that nauseatingly cocky look on his face.”

You shuttered at the memory of it and knew it was an image that would haunt your nightmares for years to come. But you pressed on. “Then he said, ‘For what it’s worth, you should be proud. You died a lot more honorably than your parents did.’ And that’s when I remembered.”

Tears slipped from your eyes as you allowed all the walls and safeguards you had built up over the years to finally come down and you recalled the night your life changed forever. “It’s been so long and he was just a kid, no older than Tim. But then again, I was even younger.” Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Damian. “How much do you know about my life before Bruce took me in?”

Damian shrugged one shoulder. “Just what I said in the car. Your parents were tortured to death by a gang who left you tied up with their bodies until the police found you. Then when he heard what happened and that you had no one left, Father took you in.”

You nodded and wiped a tear from your eye. “My parents owned a little shop near Crime Alley at the time. It was a hole-in-the-wall thrift store that barely made enough to put food on the table but my parents loved that place. It was their pride and joy so when the local gang came by to demand protection money, they refused. They didn’t want their place associated with gangsters. Which of course the gang didn’t like. We lived in a small apartment above it and one night, the gang broke in while we were sleeping. I was only six at the time and I didn’t understand what was happening. I just knew some bad people dragged us out of bed and into the basement where they tied us all up to chairs. I was sitting between my parents as they begged and pleaded for our lives, but even then I still didn’t understand. Not until one of the men pulled out a knife.”

A humorless chuckle fell softly from your lips. “I guess in hindsight, I should have remembered Moore sooner. The way he tortured and hurt me was very similar to what the gang did to my parents. Just small cuts that got deeper and deeper. Small weapons that got more and more damaging until….”

A small hiccupy sob slipped from your lips as everything came flooding back to you. Your father screaming in pain as the gang broke bone after bone and cut off his fingers one by one. Your mother hysterically sobbing as she begged them to let you all go. The way those pleas eventually shifted to just begging them to let you go. And then the eerie silence that fell across the room after your mother had taken her last breath.

Damian took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It is alright, sister. You do not have to continue.”

You shot him an appreciative smile but shook your head. “No. It’s okay.” Taking several deep breaths to compose yourself, you continued. “There was one gang member who stayed huddled in the corner, refusing to watch as the rest of the gang had their fun.”

“Moore.”

You nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, but yeah. He had started by anxiously pacing around at the back of the room but once things turned really violent….he couldn’t take it. He tried to run back upstairs but the gang forced him to stay and watch. Said he needed to learn how things were done. And after the other day, I’d say he learned his lesson pretty well.”

“And you are certain it was him?”

“Absolutely. I stared at him through most of it, partly because I couldn’t stand to watch what they were doing to my parents, but also partly because I could tell he was just as horrified as I was and yet he did nothing to stop it. I wanted to scream at him to help us, to do something, but I also was too afraid to speak up. And when they were done and the gang members left, he was the last one out of the room. He looked at me as if he wanted to apologize or set me free or…I don’t know. But instead, he just turned and ran up the stairs. The next time I saw him was when he walked into that room we were both chained up in.” You scoffed as you felt a lump growing in your throat. “I guess we picked up right where we left off, huh?”

The physical damage that had been done to you was hard enough to bear, but now realizing the connection your tormentor had to your past made you want to vomit. Moore may not have laid a finger on you back then, but he had been there to witness the worst day of your life. His friends had been the ones who did the same thing to your parents—only your parents hadn’t been lucky enough to survive. You wondered how long Moore had been planning this, how long he had wanted to finish the job that had been started all those years ago. Perhaps it was some sort of decades-long revenge plot since your parents’ deaths had eventually led to the arrest of most of the other gang members and the collapse of his gang. Or it was possible he just wanted to blackmail Bruce as he said and he thought using you to do it was just a bonus. Jason said Moore had been taken to Blackgate so once you were better, you could go try to get some answers. But at the moment, you weren’t sure if you even wanted them.

You had been so deep in thought that you only just realized that Damian had been silently staring down at your interlocked hands for the past few minutes. His expression was nigh-on unreadable and you were once again reminded of Bruce. Given enough time, support, and guidance, you could see him growing into a man worthy to carry on his father’s legacy. You just hoped he would want you to be around to see it.

You wouldn’t blame Damian if his attitude towards you reverted back to how it was before all of this happened. After all, he was put through hell because of you. He had warmed up to you solely because you had offered yourself up to be tortured instead of him—yet he never should have been there in the first place. Maybe this would actually make your relationship worse. Maybe Damian would cut you off completely. Maybe—

“Sister, I cannot imagine how hard this realization must have been for you and I…I am sorry.”

His voice cut through your internal spiraling and you blinked in surprise. “Wh-what?” With all the scenarios you had swirling around in your head, hearing Damian apologize had never even crossed your mind. “But Dami you’re not…mad?”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “Why would I be mad?”

“I’m the reason you were there. I thought once you knew the whole story and realized that, you would hate me for getting you dragged into everything. Or at least–” you dropped your gaze down to the bed “–at least I thought you’d go back to not really liking me.”

“Oh…” The small boy shifted in his chair. “I can understand why you may have come to that conclusion but knowing your history with Moore does not change how I feel about what you did for me. You saved me long before you remembered who he was or your connection to him. And even that still does not prove you were the one he was after, not me. I am the youngest and, as such, am perceived to be the most vulnerable and incapable of protecting myself—Tt, though in reality, it is Drake who fits that description.”

You smiled as you shook your head. Tim would disagree with that statement, but Damian’s point was still valid. To those who did not know of his past upbringing or training, it would be easy to dismiss him as a young, spoiled, entitled brat who never had to lift a finger his entire life. But they couldn’t be farther from the truth. Despite being a kid, Damian had already experienced more than 90% of people would in their lifetime. Hell, when he was the same age you were when you watched your parents die, he had already been training for years with the League of Assassins. Moore had just gotten lucky when he grabbed the two of you: if Damian hadn’t woken up hurt and already chained up, he probably could have incapacitated every one of your kidnappers.

Damian continued. “Regardless of who the target was, it does not change the fact you volunteered yourself in my place when they wanted to take me. And despite the pain you were in, you tried to hold on as long as possible so I would not be forced to take your place. How could any other detail matter except my sister loves me enough to die for me?”

The lump in your throat got bigger until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You managed to nod your head quickly and repeatedly as you choked out, “I would. Because I do. I do love you, Damian.” He stared down at the floor, shifting once more in his chair as his fist tightened around yours. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. You knew how hard it was for him but you could see he wanted to say it and that was enough. So, squeezing his hand back, you whispered, “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back.”

His shoulders dropped with visible relief and he gave you a small, grateful smile. Then, in a tiny voice, he muttered, “But I do though.”

It was the final straw. Tears began flowing down your cheeks as a small cry burst from behind your lips. There was a sharp pain in your chest as you disturbed your injuries, but it seemed unimportant at the moment. You tried to control yourself as much as possible, knowing emotions and displays of affection bothered Damian, but it was all too overwhelming. For so long you had tried to get him to at least tolerate you, but this? This was more than you ever dared to hope for.

Damian sat quietly as you took a moment to compose yourself. Despite the added pain you incurred from your crying, you couldn’t remember feeling this happy in a while…..or this worn out. Now that you had cleared the air with Damian and everything was better than expected, you realized how much you had been struggling to stay awake.

Another wave of exhaustion hit you and it took almost everything you had to murmur, “I know Jay said everyone was waiting to see me but I think….I think I need to rest for a bit. Could you ask them to wait until I take a small nap?”

He nodded. “Of course, sister. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Dami.”

You expected him to leave but instead, he squeezed your hand hard and looked you dead in the eye. “I mean it. Whatever you need. You will heal and things will return to normal. And I will be by your side for all of it.”

You smiled up at him, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Thank you, Dami.”

He laid your hand gently back on the bed before standing from his chair and walking to the door. He glanced over his shoulder at you one last time, nodded, and then disappeared.

With no reason left to hold on, you let yourself collapse back into the bed as you gave into the darkness that was dancing on the edge of your vision.

And as you felt yourself being pulled under to unconsciousness once more, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything that had happened and the long road to recovery that lay before you, you had a father and four brothers who loved you and would be by your side through all of it. Because at the end of the day, that’s what family is for. And you were so thankful to have found this family.

Taglist: @zebralover, @itzagothamcitysiren, @roses-and-ricex, @blackpearl2324, @po55um, @missborntodiex, @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog, @an-ever-angry-bi, @rukia-uchiha-98, @shipsforlif3, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @hyding-out-here, @555hikaii, @nik2blog, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club

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blue-slxt · 8 months

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Kinktober 16

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: This is loosely based on my real life experience. I hope you guys enjoy it! All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar!Reader

Warnings: Sex Toys, P in V, Creampie

“Ma Teyam~” your singsong voice carries through the room making your boyfriend’s ears shoot up at attention.

“Yes, yawne?” he answers with a smirk knowing that you clearly had something up your sleeve.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to try with you.” You hold your hands behind your back to conceal the small object you had. Neteyam cocks an eyebrow at you with his eyes jumping between your hidden hands and the mischievous look on your face.

Removing your hands from behind your back, you open your palm to reveal a medium-sized silicone ring with an oval-shaped bead on it.

“What is that?” he inquires taking in its strange appearance.

“It’s a cock ring. You wear it when we…”

His face flushes a bit in understanding. “Oh, I see.”

“Only if you’re okay with trying it out” you say suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing you’ve asked me to try” he laughs making you roll your eyes at him.

“Ha ha, just get your tewng off” you say.

He does as you ask removing his loincloth and you hurriedly discard your own clothes. No matter how many times he’s seen your avatar, Neteyam still thanks his lucky star every time he gets the chance to ogle you. He quietly watches as you climb on top of him and straddle his lap.

“Well, I like this part already” he says pulling you closer by your hips. You laugh a little before leaning forward and kissing him. Kissing Neteyam may be one of your favorite things. He moves in perfect time with you and he knows just how to touch you.

You reach between you to stroke his already hard dick and you smile against his mouth. You loved feeling how his body reacted to you.

You break the kiss for a moment to lean back and stretch the ring around his base. You gently let it go and the squeeze around him makes him huff out a breath.

“Does it hurt?” you check.

“N-no, it’s just…different” he says shakily. “It’s okay, though.”

Looking down at the way his tip is steadily leaking precum, you would think it’s probably more than ‘okay’. A smirk crosses your lips when you watch his face as you reach down to the base and push the button on the vibrator and turn it on. You would swear before Eywa that you saw Neteyam’s eyes cross and his dick jump from the new sensation. His breathing gets deeper and his body shudders under you. God, he’s beautiful like this. Neteyam is at the edge of his patience when he reaches out and pulls you towards him to capture your lips in a hasty, impatient kiss and his hands grip your ass to keep him grounded.He lets out a sharp hiss when you move your hips to drag your pussy along his length. All the sensation has his mind devolving into only his most carnal instincts. His hips buck up searching desperately for something to grind against.

You finally decide to have mercy on the poor man and angle your hips so that you sit down on his stiff cock. His head lulls back from the spinning sensation of finally being enveloped in your warmth. With this position, your clit is right on top of the small bullet buzzing against both of you and your mouth hangs open in a filthy moan. Even in your avatar, it still feels like he’s so deep that he’s tickling the bottom of your ribcage.

You slowly roll your hips into him, squeezing around his length while also grinding against the vibrator. The mix of sensations for you both is deliriously satisfying.

“Shit, yawne…if you keep doing that, I’m not going to last.” He says through gritted teeth.

“Haah…fuck! Give it to me, Nete. Please…W-want it so bad!”

His face scrunches in pleasure when his hands take hold of your hips and he starts moving you on his own. He lifts you up and down on top of him and your eyes roll from how he’s pounding directly into your cervix.

“Oh, God! I’m going to cum!” you say.

“Oh yes, yes, yes. Just like that, sevin.”

Your legs shake and your back arches feeling the knot in your core finally snap. The force of it knocks the air out of you and you can only manage to croak out broken moans as Neteyam continues to fuck you through your orgasm. It feels like you’ll never come down with how he’s using you to reach his own release.

A strangled groan leaves his throat when he snaps his hips up into you in one hard thrust shooting his cum into you. Between the fluttering of your walls and the vibration of the cockring still hugging around him, Neteyam feels like he’s going to go insane from the overstimulation. His dick twitches endlessly inside of you still trying to pump more into you even after he’s empty.

“T-turn it off” he chokes out, hips still stuttering under you.

You hurriedly reach down to click the little button to turn it off and watch as Neteyam’s whole body goes slack with relief. You collapse on top of him and you both pant out heavy breaths trying to steady your heartbeats.

“You and your alien devices will be the death of me, yet, yawne.” he laughs.

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @narwhal-swimmingintheocean

(If your tag isn't working, please check your settings.)

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #lunaskinktober2023

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guillotinna · 4 months

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Warning: cockwarming and pathetically whipped simon Riley

MDNI 18+ content

It was one of the rare occasions where both of you were too exhausted to go at it like you usually did. Normally, the hours after simon returned from deployment were spent with you bent over any surface he could get you on first. The air filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex. This time was different, though. The weight of existence was coming down heavy on the both of you, exhaustion ruining the normally passionate reunion. You both agreed that him taking you from the back for round after round or you sucking his dick for hours was not in the cards tonight, but intimacy was still very much wanted. Which is why you find yourself slumped, chest to chest with your face tucked into his neck. Simon's arms rest leisurely around your waist as he reclines against the headboard. "You feel perfect love" was the first sentence shared between the two of you in a while. You truly were just basking in each other's company, so talking was sparse. "Si, I think you were made for me," you softly confess. The words whispered into his neck and imprinted on his heart. He agrees wholeheartedly. There was never any doubt in his mind, to be honest. He found himself giving into you so naturally, and he never even questioned it. To have you here with him, taking his cock so well, loving him so intensely, he can die a happy man. Simon tightens his grip on you at your words and twitches inside you. He can feel you smile against his neck. "Thought you'd like that one big guy". He grumbles in protest to the teasing but you feel his body tense under you. The two of you have been like this for hours now, somewhere between awake and asleep. "Simon" you whisper. "Mmm" is all you receive back so you continue. "I love you". You get silence in return which just makes you smile. After years of being in a relationship with the emotionally constipated man you know he's just stringing together a sentence that will probably only convey about 30 percent of what he actually feels for you. So you wait. You always do, you always let him get his thoughts together while no one else did. Everyone before you assumed the silence was a symbol of indifference. No one ever waited to hear what he had to say so he learned to keep his mouth shut. Until you. You would wait forever just to hear a single word from Simon. You don't know much about his past, you do know it must have been bad for him to end up like this. But that didn't deter you. You waited. And waited. And waited. After years, Simon finally accepted that you would listen to the few things he had to say, unlike anybody before. He never had an audience, he didn't know how to convey his feelings, let alone to you. But after struggling for who knows how long, he has you in his arms and life for good. He ends your waiting and moves one of his hands to the back of your head, pressing the two of you impossibly closer. "I-". He clears his throat and as he gets his next words together, you shift yourself on his cock, nuzzling your face into his neck further. You hum in response to his start of a sentence. You've waited before and you can wait again. Hell, if it meant spending more time stretched out on your lovers dick, you could bide your time forever. Your shifting causes Simon to buck into you. You bite your lip at the sensation. He takes a deep breath before speaking, reminding you of the words shared just moments ago that honestly slipped your mind. All of your patience and love for this man is rewarded with the few words he shares. You've come to find that the waiting is always worth it. If no other words are said by him that night, you can die happy with the ones that have been.

"If I was made for anything in this life, it would be for you"

#is this good?#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod mw22

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antimonyandthyme · 2 months

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1k; alex/logan; after the australian gp

His phone was clinking incessantly. Very determinedly. Logan dredged up determination in equal counterforce to ignore it.

“Whoever it is,” Alex said, “is being clingier than cling wrap.”

“Not your best,” Logan said.

“Whatever. Why don’t you answer it?”

“It’s probably just Oscar.”

That got him an Oh? Alex shifted, groaning, stretching his arms out in a way that was not meant to be sexy at all, but somehow still painfully was. Logan stared down at the wrinkled sheets instead. He was shaky all over, but kept himself still. “What does he want?”

“To check on me, probably.”

“Good friend,” Alex said. His tone landed somewhere in the middle of a chromatic scale, careful, but not too wary, interested, but not too concerned.

I don’t know about you and George, but me and Oscar, we get along just—

It was too early to be this petty. “Yeah,” he said, and left it at that.

Except Alex had a bone to chew. His not-quite smile was sharp, his eyes a little too assessing. Logan supposed the morning-after spiral presented itself differently in everybody.

“What will you tell him?”

“That I spent the night fucking my teammate,” Logan said.

Alex pulled back, like that scalded. Okay, ouch.

Logan sighed. Oscar always said there was no point wielding a knife if he was going to feel bad about it, less than a second after. It was a habit he couldn’t rid himself of.

“Of course I’m not saying that. Just—that I’m sleeping in. Or something else believable. I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair, which barely served to dissuade any unruliness. He looked so rumpled it was almost endearing. Logan had the maddening urge to smooth him down, act as sandpaper to Alex’s edges. “Sorry. I’m not being. I’m not—”

“You’re being an ass,” Logan said flatly. “Can you have your freakout later? After we’ve showered, at least?”

Of all things. Alex’s smile softened, turned a little more real. “So you admit it.”

“Admit what.”

“You are mad at me.”

I’m not mad, Logan had said last night, when Alex showed up with a bottle of conciliatory wine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck, so unusually uncertain of himself that Logan felt the inane need to comfort him. Alex, I promise I’m not. Here, to prove how not mad I am, let’s finish this bottle together. See?

“I’m—” He shut his mouth. There were very few pretenses here. Eyes red-rimmed and bodies tender in the most intimate of places, sheets still faintly damp. “I’m being childish.”

“You’re not being childish,” Alex said shortly. “Something got taken away from you, and for what?”

Logan shrugged. It wasn’t Alex’s fault, that much was certain. But the taste on his tongue soured past morning staleness when he thought of James. “It was for the team.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Get out of here with that bullshit.”

“I should have crashed my car, like Max suggested.”

“That’s more like it.” Even the flyaway strands in Alex’s hair appeared delighted now. “Let it all out.”

The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched up. “What are you trying to encourage? Our own multi two-one?”

Alex scoffed. “When Williams makes better cars, maybe.”

It sounded impossible, even as people who had the patience to recognize dreams took what felt like eons to manifest. And anyway, Alex wasn’t the person he’d endure a silver war with. Logan’s phone was still making glass-shattering noises.

“You should reply.” Alex relaxed back into bed. They were both equally grateful for the distraction from their futures’ uncertainties. “Way it sounds, he’s about to have a conniption.”

Logan could picture it, Oscar’s not-anxious-anxious face, the line of his mouth flattening impossibly further the longer it took to get a response.

sorry, shit signal last night

Mate, the response was instant and borderline angry. Where are you?

in bed

Not technically a lie.

hungover

Ok, Oscar said. You good?

Was he? Alex was looking at him, expression threaded with amusement and an understanding reserved for teammates who only knew how to take things from each other. The night could’ve been worse spent. Alex’s mouth, hot against his, and his calloused hand, rough against his sensitive, greedy cock, was welcome enough to push James’ sympathetic face out of his head for a decent enough time.

i’m good. thanks. appreciate you asking osc

“You’re awfully polite for an American.”

“Fuck off,” Logan said.

There was another unopened text that surely Alex had caught a glimpse of as well. Logan tossed the phone aside. His lips found the underside of Alex’s jaw. Alex’s groan was exceedingly nice to listen to. The stutter in his hips, the surprised gasp he released, as Logan worked his way downward, was even more rewarding.

Later, showering—

“I’ll say no, the next time.”

Alex was playing with the suds in Logan’s hair, making snowmen that stuck out like lumpy marshmallows. The shower in the hotel room, like all showers in hotel rooms tend to be, had misty glass enclosure walls. Logan checked their reflections out in the mirror. They looked presentable, pressed up against each other. Friendly, like all good teammates should be.

“Good, good,” Alex said absently. He continued massaging Logan’s hair.

There was a small flicker of irritation. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” Alex said. He smoothed the shampoo down, palm slick and comfortable, then scratched his fingers gently against Logan’s scalp. “You’re allowed, of course. To say no.”

You’re allowed, Logan heard in the silence that followed, to see where that takes you.

Coming from Alex, it didn’t sound that patronizing. More generous, really. Encouraging. Maybe they would have their own multi two-one, after all.

The text: Logan, I’d like to discuss some things with you today, if you have time.

Impossible, aggravating. James hardly needed to ask for Logan’s time. It was already his.

Logan leaned his head back, snug against Alex’s collarbone. The spray was pleasant, going around his eyes, courtesy of the shield Alex’s back provided. It was warm.

He thought about what to say.

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #alex/logan

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 8 months

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That's What Family is For (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 16. Hospital, 21. Shock Fandom: DC, Batman, Batfam, Damian Wayne, Batsis!reader, f!reader Summary: After being kidnapped and offering to take Damian's place to be tortured, you miraculously find yourself waking up back home. Damian has a new outlook on your relationship, but will a secret from your past ruin everything? Word Count: 5231 TW: Hospital, Aftermath of Torture, Mentions of Past Torture, Mentions of Death, Forced to Watch, Crying, Coma, Past Trauma Note: Today is the 2 year anniversary of posting Part 1 of this fic. Thank you so incredibly much for your patience and support as I worked on this and I hope it lives up to Part 1 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober

Part 1