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swift-creates · 3 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 19: asphyxiation and day 24: drowning

wc: 366 | warnings: star wars swearwords, choking on bacta, mention of bodies | characters: Lieutenant Strike (OC)

an attempt at a Strike version of @enigma-absolute's boy Maddox's backstory!!

—

She didn't know how long she floated in that state of half-knowing, half-consciousness, half-feeling, the nothingness pressing in close and dark around her. But then all her senses kicked back in at once and she was choking on bacta, the sickly sweet stench of it clogging her nose and mouth as she convulsed. She coughed and spat and heaved, shaking on the slippery floor of the medbay. It was a miracle she hadn't cut herself on the broken glass of the bacta tank, but she couldn't bring herself to be overly thankful at the moment.

Where am I what is this how did I get here oh kriff are those bodies what the kriff is this oh force- She stared at her surroundings as she gasped for oxygen, air replacing the sticky fluid in her lungs. Aside from all the inert figures, the room was deserted, the only sound the distant rumbling of a starship's engines and deep booms almost like explosions. How did she know that? She didn't know how she knew that.

Medbays… Medbays usually have doctors in them. But there were none in this one. Where did they all go? Was the ship exploding? So many questions, not a single answer. The edge of a stray ID card was visible from her position, and she suddenly felt way too vulnerable, exposed on the floor.

Gotta go have to go run go go go get out- She pushed herself onto unstable feet, grabbed a scalpel and the card off one of the abandoned medical stands and stumbled to the door. The walls trembled around her as she went through hallway after hallway, finally emerging into the command center of the ship. It was just as deserted as the medbay, broken panels hanging off everything and sparks falling from the loose wiring. A planet she didn't recognise who was she kidding she didn't recognise anything loomed out the viewport, coming ever closer as the ship shook, threatening to come apart from the explosions' wounds left on its hull.

Strike stared into the emptiness of space and didn't remember who or where she was, only knowing one thing.

These are not my stars.

#swift creates #swift writes #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #fic #star wars fanfic #fanfiction #Maddox (GFFA)#Strike (OC)#maddox darling #lieutenant strike #calledania #chrumblr whump #Chrumblr whump May #Whump

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swift-creates · 4 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 20: came back wrong

wc: 279 | warnings: swearing, nightmares, (not real) blood and death | characters: Thea Queen (pov), Roy Harper - romantic

—

There's blood on the ground and on her hands and on Roy's shirt and oh God oh fuck there's blood in her mouth and she tries to wipe the taste of it off her tongue with her fingers but that only gets more of it in her mouth and she gags she drags her hands onto her pants trying to clean them and the red smears all over the khaki as Malcolm and Moira stare sightlessly up at the sky and oh God oh fuck they're dead they're dead they're dead-

"Thea."

She shot up in bed, hands shaking and drenched in sweat, and instantly felt Roy wrap his arms around her. "Easy. I'm here. I'm safe, babe." His voice was soft in her ear as she gasped for breath, burrowing her hands in his hoodie and pulling him as close as she could.

"No one's after us. The Pits are gone. We're safe. It's okay," he murmured, and it took her a few more moments to believe it. She pressed her face to his shoulder, inhaled his smell, buried herself in the safety of it.

Her breathing slowed, and her hands stopped shaking. But he didn't let go. They never did.

"Bloodlust again?" "…Yeah." She managed the word past dry lips, swallowed nothing down her sandpaper throat. "I'm okay." "You sure?" She nodded. "You?" Thea could tell he knew she was deflecting his concern, but he answered anyway. "Nothing tonight." "Good." The word hung in the air, and he still didn't let go. They never did.

She fell back asleep in his arms, the taste of iron in her mouth fading but the safety of his embrace lingering.

#swift creates #swift writes #Arrow #arrow cw #thea queen #roy harper #arrowverse #dctv #Thea x Roy #Thea queen x Roy Harper #Thearoy #DC #dc fanfic #dc fic #fic #arrowverse fanfiction #chrumblr whump #Chrumblr whump May #Whump

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swift-creates · 15 days

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#OK LETS GOOOOOOO #Steph Spector (OC)#Marvel #moon knight #srb

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swift-creates · 16 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 16: begging

wc: 613 | warnings: torture, knife violence, threats | characters: Strike (OC) (pov), Alex Brisals (OC), unnamed Separatist human female

[all time low voice] tonight's like a knife, would you cut me with your kiss I bleed red lips you're unbelievable-

another oc ship fic because i'm uncontrollable! so is the brainrot more things about Strike on AO3

—

Alex's eyes were wide as his gaze desperately clung to hers. She knew that look. That was the lie to me look, the tell me everything's going to be okay look.

"Stay away from him," she forced out through gritted teeth. "Oh, darling. It's sweet to see you think you have any say in the matter whatsoever." The woman selected out a knife from the tray in front of her, flipping it between her fingers as she strolled up and down the tiny room. "Don't darling me. Touch him, and I'll shove that knife down your throat." Strike's threat was made somewhat less effectual by the audible tremor in her voice. The woman laughed, and patted her on the cheek. "Just watch."

She left Strike, and walked towards him. Alex watched her the same way a frightened animal would someone approaching them, leaning away when she tried to grab him by the chin. "Hmm, where should we start? Do you think she'd like it if we gave you some lovely scars on your face?" Alex's breathing hitched, and he looked frantically past her to Strike.

"Maybe around your pretty mouth. So she remembers this every time she kisses you." She traced the knife lightly over his skin, and she saw his hands start to tremble.

"Don't." Her fingers dug into the leather straps that restrained her, kept her strapped to this stupid chair. They were right there; she should be able to stop this, to protect him, to do something, not stay seated as a creepy woman with knives threatened him. "Here's the thing, sweetheart. This all comes down to you. Just tell me everything I need to know about your little operation, and your boy here goes free and unharmed." She smiled, as if they were at a cafe instead of in a torture room. "Don't call her sweetheart." Oh, Alex. Poor, brave Alex. He was so far out of his depth, and still tried to stand up for her. Strike might be trained to withstand the worst Separatist torment, but he wasn't. He shouldn't even be here, her mind wailed. What have you done?

"You'll look wonderful when I'm done with you." The woman smiled wickedly, digging the tip of the knife in deep enough to draw blood, and Alex let out a strangled yelp. "Stop!" Strike desperately pulled against her bonds, tilting the chair dangerously forward. "Please." The woman turned to her, pretending she hadn't heard the first time. "What was that, lovely?" "Stop." She rolled her eyes and went back to her task, etching a curved line around the edge of his lips. "No manners. Really, should know better than to distract me. Or I might slip up." The knife jarred sharply downward, and Alex cried out.

Strike squeezed her eyes shut at the sound. "Please! Stop." Alex stopped screaming, and she opened her eyes to the woman looking back at her, knife hovering just above his skin. "One more time, soldier." "Please don't do this." Her voice dropped to a whisper. She kept her eyes trained on Alex's, holding him with her gaze if nothing else, and watched the woman pull away from her peripheral vision.

She walked over to Strike. Bent to look her straight in the eye. "Tell me everything I want to know about the Republic operations on this planet, or I will see to it that you and the boy become well acquainted with the very worst I have to offer." "I will. I swear. Just don't hurt him."

The woman smiled, and Strike thought of Rex and Anakin and Ahsoka and Jesse and Kix. I'm sorry.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

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swift-creates · 16 days

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AAAAUGHHHHH I WANNA DRAW BUFF STRIKE IN HER SPARRING OUTFIT

#swift talks #Strike (OC)#lieutenant strike

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swift-creates · 17 days

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SORRY FOR THE LACK OF WARNINGS ON DAY 13 ITS FIXED NOW

#Swift talks

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swift-creates · 17 days

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#swift talks #Steph Spector (OC)#Marvel #moon knight

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swift-creates · 18 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 14: traumatic touch aversion and day 15: memory loss

wc: 342 | warnings: minor swearing | characters: Lieutenant Strike (OC) (pov), Captain Rex (though they’re not lieutenant or captain in this)

a bit from my Batfam AU!!!! in which Strike is Red Hood, Rex is Batman, and they’re both Trying to emote (and failing spectacularly).

—

“Good work out there, Hood.” Strike looked to see Rex staring out over the Gotham skyline. “What?” “In one night, you took down the drug ring I’ve been trying to disassemble for weeks.” He remained perfectly still as he spoke, the suit making his silhouette more like a lack of light than an object casting shadow. “Good work.”

Strike stared at her father the Batman. He stared at the city.

She couldn’t remember the last time he’d told her that. Not that he’d rarely done it, or never. She just couldn’t remember. She knew she had the memories, knew he’d said it before, but the exact picture remained fuzzy, fragments floating just beyond her grasp. That was fine. She didn’t need those memories anyway.

On some level, she did. She missed when they’d return to the Batcave after patrol on long and cold winter nights, and 99 would be waiting with blankets and two mugs of hot chocolate. They’d take those and curl up on the couch, intending to get up and go to bed at some point. But Strike would always fall asleep on his shoulder, and he’d stay there, afraid to wake her up, until his own eyes fell closed. Or so 99 had told her when she’d returned to the manor after the League.

Good work.

Of course it was, she told herself. The Red Hood doesn’t half-ass her missions.

But it meant something, coming from him.

“Thanks,” she muttered, poking at a stray piece of trash with her boot. He turned and looked at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

He stepped closer, and hesitated. Then he put a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched.

Her father put a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched.

He pulled away instantly, hand disappearing beneath his cape again, and turned back to look at the city lights.

Come back, everything inside her screamed. To him, to her childhood, to their old life. Come back. But the distance between them remained, and so did the silence.

#swift creates #swift writes #Batfam au #Bat!Rex #Robin!Strike au #red hood #strike (OC)#Lieutenant strike #Clone OC #Star Wars #chrumblr whump #Chrumblr whump May #Whump #Dc #Batman #the clone wars

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swift-creates · 19 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 13: panic attack

wc: 356 | warnings: swearing | characters: Matt Murdock (pov), Dick Grayson

post-whump RP fallout!!! idk if this reallly counts as a panic attack but it is a breakdown ig 😭 chrumblr rp girlies <3 @ablatheringblatherskite @choasuqeen

—

Matt could hear crying come from inside the room, and hovered with his hand on the doorknob. He'd heard Dick go in earlier, and he'd sounded fine, if with a slightly elevated heartbeat. The sobs had started about a minute ago, and Matt had followed them here.

He decided to go in (besides, for all he knew, Dick had already heard his footsteps and knew he was there). "Dick?" A sniffle, then a scuffing sound. "Matt. What- What're you doing here?" "I'm blind, not oblivious, Dick." He kept his tone gentle, crouching in front of the other man. "Are you okay?" A pause. Trembling breaths. "No, not really." Matt sat next to him silently, and they remained that way for a while.

"I'm just- I tried to protect Nia and Raoul from those guys and I couldn't and I just ended up making things worse and it's all my fault." The words tumbled out, tripping over each other and breaking the short silence, and Matt put an arm around him. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could've done," he affirmed. "I could've shut the fuck up! But no, I had to go and talk about my family, and they heard it, and now Raoul and Nia have to remember that forever because of me." Another sniffle. "For someone who protects people each and every day, I'm not doing very good at it right now."

Matt shook his head. "No. Listen, you did the best you could in an impossible situation. You tried to protect them and couldn't, but you did your best, and that's all you could have done. It's not your fault." Dick didn't reply, but after a moment, Matt felt him move closer and lean against him.

"Thanks, Matt. I… I don't think that's all true, but. It does help. So thanks." "Anytime, kid." He heard a soft puff of air. A scoff, or laugh. "I'm three years younger than you are." "I know." Matt smiled, and Dick nudged him.

"But for real, though. You sound like my dad." "Yeah, I'm not that old." "Hmm." "Dick!"

Now that was definitely a laugh.

#i hope i did matt right #swift creates #swift writes #matt murdock #dick grayson #nightwing #dc #batman #Chrumblr RP #Chrumblr RP shenanigans #chrumblr whump #whump #chrumblr whump may #chrumblr whumblr

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swift-creates · 19 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 12: manipulation

wc: 222 | warnings: minor mentions of deaths | characters: Anakin Skywalker (pov), mentions of other characters (Palpatine, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Padmé, Leia, Luke)

this is a bit of my Imperial au! where Anakin 'pretends' to be Palpatine's apprentice. Sheev thinks he's manipulating Anakin and Anakin thinks he's manipulating Sheev and Anakin is manipulating himself into thinking he's got this and Everything Is Fine (it is not).

—

Darth Vader Anakin lived each and every day swathed in the terrible darkness that surrounded Emperor Palpatine, but it was fine.

It could be worse. Palpatine reminded him each and every day who was to thank for his newfound power and rank in the Empire, and how close he’d come to being killed by Yoda on Mustafar. And he reminded himself each and every day he wasn’t a Sith, wasn’t actually Palpatine’s apprentice or indebted to him. He was only pretending to be. It got harder when the anger burned in his chest like a small star at the injustices or the mention of how much he ‘owed’ the Emperor. But it was fine. Everything was fine.

He watched the Empire hurt people for years, as Luke and Leia grew up in the Dark. He hurt people himself when he had to, killed them sometimes. And tried to convince himself he wasn’t affected by his actions, that he was in control. That he was the one manipulating Palpatine, not the other way round. That it was fine.

After all, he wasn’t a real Sith. This was a facade, a lie. To stop the Emperor from hurting Padmé and the twins, to keep Obi-Wan and Ahsoka safe. If not they’d already be dead. So as it was, everything was fine.

Perfectly fine.

#swift creates #swift writes #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #fanfiction #fic #anakin skywalker #darth vader #chrumblr whump #chrumblr whump May #Whump #anidala #Padmé amidala #sheev palpatine #emperor palpatine #sleazy mcsheevy #imperial au

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swift-creates · 21 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 11: on the run

wc: 1217 | warnings: sprained ankle, being chased and shot at by battle droids, mention of burn injury | characters: Peter Parker (pov), Arrio Mckay, Dick Grayson

the boys get isekai'd into the clone wars tee hee chrumblr rp girlies <3 @ablatheringblatherskite @youjustfeelthemforever @choasuqeen

“You’re gonna have to run faster than that, man,” Peter panted, and Arrio glared back at him. “I am running at the same speed you are!” “Both of you, save your breath.” Dick’s reproof came through gritted teeth; they looked back in unison to see him trip and almost fall, but then he caught himself and kept going, onward through the jungle at a limping run. Peter and Arrio swapped a glance, shut up and kept running.

Moonlight glowed brighter through a hole in the trees ahead, and Peter expected to burst out into a clearing. But then his spider-sense flared, and he grabbed Arrio just in time to keep him from going over the cliff that suddenly loomed below them. “That was clo-” Unable to stop himself, Dick slammed into them, and for a moment they teetered at the edge, about to go over, before Dick grabbed his grapple gun, Peter shot a web to the nearest tree, and they pulled themselves away from the precipice. All three stumbled back towards the tree line, and Dick leaned against the trunk of one, grimacing.

“Are you okay?” “I’d be better if the others were here. And if my ankle was in perfect working condition,” he replied glumly, reaching down to rub it. Arrio growled in frustration. “I knew we shouldn’t have asked those things for directions. The one time I do stop to do that, and we get shot at and chased through the jungle.” “You knew? I was the one who said maybe we shouldn’t ask the evil looking robots if they knew which way our friends were!” “And I was the one who overrode you.” “Oh, please, like your vote alone is enough to override me.” “It was two to one! That’s what outvote means, Peter.” “Yeah, but-” “Boys.” Arrio and Peter swapped a glance, shut up and turned to see Dick frowning at them. “This isn’t helping.

“We’re stranded in a strange jungle with no one around for miles except for those robots. I get that you were right, Peter, but you were still outvoted. And Arrio, you weren’t the only one who voted against him. It was the majority opinion and we went with that, so” — he pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand — “can we please stop arguing now and get a move on before the robots catch up?”

Peter and Arrio looked from him to each other, then nodded.

“Yeah.” “Okay.” “Good.”

The word was barely out of his mouth before they heard the a modulated voice coming from behind them. “Freeze, Republic dogs!” The trio looked from each other to the lone robot and back.

Peter crossed his arms, tilting his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but we’re not any of those things. Which we tried to tell you when we asked for directions-” The robot kept its gun trained on them as the leaves and branches rustled, and the others in its squad emerged from the trees.

“I don’t think they care, Peter.” Arrio’s posture was tense; he moved furtively in front of Dick, his ring starting to glow like the embers of a fire. “I got that much.” He was about to start backing away from the robots when his spider-sense went off again, and he pushed Arrio to the ground. “DUCK!” “Open fire!” The robots started to shoot red lasers at them, and Peter had to pivot midair to avoid all of the bolts, catching a glimpse of Dick twisting into a somersault. He lunged to the side as the onslaught continued, webbing up one of the robots and swinging it around to crash into the others. They went down in a clatter of metal, and Peter yelled, "STRIKE!"

Arrio's face popped into his view as the other boy pushed himself up off the ground. "Strike? Where?!" "Bowling. Not our friend," Peter explained tersely as he shoved him back down. "Stop shoving me!" "Then stop getting in the path of those lasers!" "Boys! Can we-" They both watched as Dick flipped again to avoid a crimson bolt, stumbling as he landed on his bad foot, and Peter felt the heat of one on his face when it zipped by. His gaze followed it like the world had turned to slow-mo, and his stomach gripped in a tight vice as he watched it thud into Dick's shoulder, and the vigilante went down.

"Dick!" Their voices rose in a single cry, and Arrio and Peter shared a look and nod, then turned to glare at the robots. Arrio's fire shed a warm yellow-white glow on the scene as he threw fireballs at their enemies and Peter flung them at each other and the ground. Some of the robots wailed as they flew off the cliff, voices fading the further they disappeared into shadow.

Peter whirled to web two of them together, and his webs flew through Arrio's fire on the way, lighting up and binding the robots to the flames and each other. "Whoa. Not what I intended, but we'll take it." Arrio shrugged in agreement, and they dispatched the last few metal soldiers together. Only when they all lay sparking on the ground did the duo turn and rush to their friend's side. Peter supported Dick as he moved to sit up, hand pressed to his arm.

"Nnh. Great job, guys." "Are you okay?" He nodded, but the pained set of his jaw told a different story, as did the bloody, burnt flesh of his shoulder. "I'll be fine. We should get a move on, before any more of them show up." He stood and winced as he tested his bad ankle. “You shouldn’t walk on that,” Peter told him anxiously. “It might make the sprain worse.” “I don’t think we have much of a choice.” His face was grim, and he nodded towards the dim lights of a settlement in the distance. “If we can get there, we might be able to get some help that won’t shoot at us. I’ll survive,” he added at both Peter’s and Arrio’s worried looks. “It’s our best option,” Arrio admitted, and Peter nodded reluctantly. “Outvoted again.” He put a hand on his forehead dramatically.

Dick broke into a grin at that. “Well, maybe one of these days you’ll have a good idea.” “I had a good idea! Don’t talk to the evil robots.” “…A good idea that everyone shares.” His smile softened the blow of his words, and he limped towards the lights, the first few step out of thousands it would take to get there.

“Yeah, Peter. Maybe someday I’ll even agree with you.” Arrio smirked as he followed. “You wish you could agree with me.” “You wish you could get Dick to agree with you.” “You wish you had superstrength.” “You wish you could make fire butterflies.” “You wish you could shoot webs.” “You wish you could-” “Boys.” They looked forward to see Dick turn back to them with a playfully resigned sigh. “I’m glad you two are getting along better, but I really hope you’re not planning to do this the whole trip. Because we have a long way to go.”

Peter and Arrio looked at each other and grinned. “No promises,” they chimed in unison.

#swift creates #swift writes #Peter Parker #arrio mckay #Marvel #Jupiter men #Chrumblr RP #The amazing spiderman #Chrumblr RP shenanigans #chrumblr whump #star wars #whump #chrumblr whump may #chrumblr whumblr #dick grayson #the clone wars #nightwing #dc #batman

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swift-creates · 22 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 10: whipping betrayal (alt 5)

wc: 193 | warnings: Force choking | characters: Dick Grayson (pov), Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Mustafar, anybody? Brotherly betrayal, anybody? Revenge of the Sith, anybody?

—

"Jason, please don't do this." "Don't tell me what or what not to do. I'm done taking orders from you!" Jason's fist tightened, and Tim struggled harder against the invisible grip on his throat. Dick's heart sank.

How did we get here?

"The Dark Side is corrupting you, Jason. You're not thinking clearly." Jason laughed, narrowed eyes a sickly yellow-red instead of the bright, happy blue Dick had always known and loved to see. "No. No, now I see more clearly than I ever have. The Jedi are a bunch of liars, Dick. Bruce is a liar, they're all deceiving you! And this one- This one is helping them spread their blight on the galaxy." His lip twisted as he looked back at Tim, and Dick watched in horror as his frantic movements slowed to a stop. "Let him go. Please." "Join me," Jason said, as if he'd never spoken. "Join me, and together we can rule as brothers. We can overthrow the Emperor. No one will be able to stand against us!" His smile was crazed, and Dick couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Oh, little Wing.

How did we get here?

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swift-creates · 23 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 9: mind control

wc: 757 | warnings: minor swearing, loved ones fighting (hand to hand not arguing), possession/mind control, minor blood, attempted strangulation, sedation | characters: Stephanie Brown (pov), Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain

—

Steph hopped down from the fire escape and landed neatly just to the left of a puddle. Tim jumped down after her and landed directly in it.

"Ah, shit." He shook the water off his cape, frowning so deeply Steph wanted to laugh. "What? It's wet," he said defensively when he noticed her staring. "Yeah, but you don't have to look like a sad little cat about it." She strolled past him, displaying her perfectly dry boots. "Spoiler one, Red Robin zero." "It's not a competition, Spoiler." "Now it is." He couldn't see her grin behind her mask, but she knew he knew she was.

They walked down the alley- Well, Tim walked. Steph pranced. As they were about to exit and climb up to the rooftops, Tim dropped behind, and Steph was about to run ahead when she heard a flump. She whirled to see Tim on the ground, clutching his head.

"Red Robin?!" Steph ran over and crouched beside him. "Hey, don't be like that. It was just a puddle." "Ngh. Steph" -- And it must have been bad, if he was too in pain to worry about using her real name -- "I- I can't…" "Can't what? Tim, what's going on?!" She tilted his face up; it was streaked with tears, and his fingers were digging mercilessly into his own head. "Tim?" "I- I- Steph, you gotta- run. Please."

Steph pulled him into what would have been a sitting position if he wasn't doubled over in agony. "Hey. I'm not going anywhere." He finally looked up at her, blue eyes wet and bloodshot. "Go." His voice had turned deep and guttural, and Steph recoiled instinctively before it returned to normal, shaky with sobs but his. "Please."

Against everything she rationally should do, Steph let go of him. Stepped a few paces away. "I'll go get help. You're gonna be okay." She turned to leave the alley, lifted one arm to signal the others on comms-

A cold hand grabbed her wrist, and she turned her head to look directly into dead blue eyes.

"Tim?" The name was barely a whisper, and she tried to pull her hand out of his grip, but couldn't. "You're not going anywhere." It wasn't Tim's voice anymore, not the voice she'd heard from the boy she'd loved so many ways over so many years, not the voice that had grown and changed with both of them.

He growled and aimed to sweep her legs from under her, but she dodged his blow, freeing her arm, and kicking him in the stomach. She tried to make it as light as possible, but he didn't make it easy.

"I don't say this often, but come to your senses, Red Robin! This isn't you." "This is what is left when all your little human weaknesses are stripped away. This is what you should be." He grinned, but it wasn't Tim's grin, and Steph felt her stomach twist.

He flew at her again, throwing a punch at her shoulder and a kick to her leg immediately after. The punch she deflected easily, but the kick was too fast, and she stumbled back.

"You can't make me hurt Tim." She said it as a fact, as if they weren’t in a situation where one or both of them might just end up dead. "Oh, can’t I?" The… thing tilted his head before reaching a pocket and flinging three Birdarangs at her. Steph’s breathing hitched as the last one grazed her leg, and she glared at him as a trickle of blood made its way down her boot.

No matter what happened, she would not hurt him. She swore it to herself as his fingers closed around her neck and shadows crowded around the edges of her vision.

THUD. She fell onto her hands and knees and gasped for oxygen when the vice on her windpipe disappeared, looking up to see Cass grapple with Tim on the ground. His sister pressed the end of a syringe into his neck, and his struggles quickly subsided, hands scrabbling weakly at her arm around his neck before going limp. She let him fall to the pavement and rushed over to Steph. "You okay?" "Yeah," she panted. Cass looked her up and down for a moment, then when she had apparently concluded that Steph wasn't secretly on the verge of collapsing, sharply pulled her into a hug. "Wh-?" "Bat thought ahead. Glad I got to you before something bad happened."

Steph smiled, and hugged her back. "Me too, Cassie. Me too."

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swift-creates · 23 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 8: blood covered hands

wc: 613 | warnings: gunshot injury, blood, swearing, stitching and dressing a wound without anaesthesia, medical inaccuracies | characters: Jason Todd (pov), Dick Grayson

—

Jason staggered into the Batcave, holding onto one of the railings with one hand and holding his guts in with the other. Figuratively. He hoped. One of the thugs had gotten in a lucky shot during his latest drug lord takedown, and he'd dragged himself all the way back here like an injured dog. It was just past one. The night was young; Duke would be asleep and the others would still be out on patrol.

He pulled open a drawer and yanked out one of the first aid kits, then took a wad of dressing and pressed it to the wound, letting a breath hiss out through his teeth. Blood covered his gloves and jacket, and some of it was slowly dripping down onto his boots and the metal floor. He watched the red spots bloom on silver idly.

"Jay?" His head snapped up at Dick's voice. Too fast. The movement sent a stab of pain through his side, and he had to fight not to double over. "What?" he forced out through gritted teeth. "You're back early-" Dick's eyes widened as he saw the blood. "You need help? What happened?" "Got shot. I'm fine." He limped two steps toward the lift, then promptly crumpled.

"Jason!" Dick lunged to catch him, steadying Jason against himself. "You don't seem very fine." He maneuvered him over to a couch and set him down, then darted to retrieve the first aid kit.

"Let me see." "I don't need your help," Jason growled. "Your fucking gunshot wound says otherwise. Let me see." Dick returned his glare, and Jason gave up, lifting his shirt to reveal the bloody hole. "It looks worse than it feels." His brother gave him a look.

"Breathe." "I am breathing. What you need to worry about is if I stop." "Stop deliriously mouthing off and listen to me. That's a lot of blood, Jason." Worry crinkled the little line between his eyebrows as Dick leaned in to put pressure on the wound. "-'m not delirious," he ground out, fingers digging into the plush cushions beneath him. "Sure, little Wing." For once, he didn't have enough energy to protest at the nickname.

Dick took a needle and thread from the box, then tied a knot as Jason panted. He wiped carefully at the wound for a moment, then looked up at him. "Breathe." This time, he didn't bite back. Jason counted the stitches as Dick made them, if only in an effort not to scream. It failed on stitch six.

"Shhhh. All done." Dick cut off the thread and put away the needle, then made as if to cradle the side of Jason's face, but stopped short at the sight of his hands soaked in blood. He gave the tiniest wince and wiped them clean on a cloth, then set about dressing the wound.

Jason closed his eyes and listened to the faint din of Dick bustling around the Batcave. There was the soft tap of fingers against his leg, then a pad of gauze to his torso. The sound of tape being pulled out and torn off, then the slight pressure of a piece being stuck on top of the gauze. He stopped paying attention after that, he was so tired, more tired than he'd realised before, and-

"Done. You get some sleep, Jay. I got you." He let out a wordless mumble, feeling faintly annoyed at being told to do what he'd already been about to. Dick shuffled around a bit more, then there was a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head. Then the sound of receding footsteps, and then the darkness was all he was aware of.

#swift creates #swift writes #Jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #the batfamily #chrumblr whump #chrumblr whump May #batfam #batfamily #jason todd whump #Whump #Dc #Batman #batboys #batsiblings #fic

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swift-creates · 25 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 7: blame/guilt

wc: 1,118 (chapter 1) | warnings: post-death in the family arc, mentions of canonical death and a funeral | characters: Bruce Wayne (pov)

look at me posting my first batfam fic on ao3 🥺 the guilt part comes in more in the second chapter tbh so uh. sorry. but it still fits the prompt 😅

#swift creates #swift writes #Jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #robin #jason todd robin #chrumblr whump #chrumblr whump May #batfam #batfamily #jason todd whump #Whump #Dc #Batman

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swift-creates · 26 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 6: tied to a chair

wc: 435 | warnings: kidnapped, does this technically count as torture child abuse or both, that trope where character is tied to a chair and being punched etc, blood, some swearing | characters: Damian Wayne (pov), Tim Drake

—

Damian pulled at the ropes around his wrists and wished they were handcuffs so he could dislocate his thumbs to get out of them. Or at least dodge the punch aimed at his head. But it landed, and his head snapped to the side, and he wished it even harder.

“Not so hard to clip the little birdie’s wings, now, is it, boys?” the lead henchman jeered, and his cronies laughed uproariously as Damian glared up at them, blood dripping from his mouth down his suit. “If you wanted a Robin with wings, you should have gone after Red Robin instead. But then, none of you low-level thugs seem to have much intelligence at all.” They stopped laughing. Damian allowed himself to admit that pissing off a bunch of men much larger than himself, especially when he was tied to a chair with no backup present, had been a bad move.

The leader bent to push his face uncomfortably close to Damian’s. “I’m gonna make you eat those words, kid. Think you’re all high and mighty and better than us, runnin' around with the Bat. Yeah” — he looked back and gestured to one of the others — “I’m gonna make you eat those words real quick.” The thug left, then came back with a hefty length of pipe and handed it to him.

Ah. Fuck.

“You gotta learn, birdie, that if ya mouth off like that, you ain’t gonna have a mouth soon enough.” The leader paced languorously in front of him once or twice, then pulled back, and Damian squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact of metal on flesh and bone-

There was no impact. Instead, there was the sound of blows landing, then multiple heavy thuds, and he opened his eyes to see Tim standing over the incapacitated thugs.

“Only I get to threaten my brother, shithead,” he snarled, aiming one last kick at the leader before turning and crouching to cut Damian’s ties. “Where are you hurt?” “I am fine. A split lip does not qualify as an injury.” “An injury’s an injury, Dami.” Tim wiped the drip of blood away with a gloved thumb, and winced just as Damian did. The ropes fell away, and he stood, feeling strangely reluctant to let go of Tim’s arm. They started to walk towards the exit.

“I wasn’t going to let him hurt you.” Tim’s voice was hushed, and he didn’t look at Damian as they stepped through the doorway. But Damian looked up at his older brother, stopped walking, and nodded.

“I know.”

Then Tim did turn to smile at him.

“Good.”

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swift-creates · 27 days

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@chrumblr-whumblr day 5: forced to obey

wc: 623 | warnings: threats of gun violence, hostage situation | characters: Rose Oleco (OC) (pov), Dick Grayson, unnamed gangster, Jason Todd (barely)

Rose belongs to my sister! as always if you want to know Moar about my silly things just ask please ask. PLEASE ask. THEY ARE SO CUTE HELP. 🥺

—

Rose stumbled as she landed, leaning on a nearby wall to regain her footing before looking around and behind for her boyfriend. “Nightwing?” “I’m good. Just… go.” His voice was choked even over the comms, and she felt her chest clench in fear. “What? Where are you?”

“Right behind you, Shadow.” She whirled around, hands raised, to see one of the gangsters they’d defeated earlier gripping Dick by the shoulder, a gun to his head. Rose tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Let him go.” “No. First, you’re gonna do something for me.” The guy shook him roughly, and she spotted the slightest twitch in Dick’s jaw as he shoved him back. “You’re gonna get over here and put these meta-cuffs on yourself, and then I’ll see about letting your little boytoy go.” “Many honourable men are little boytoys,” Dick sniffed, and Rose desperately wanted to grab him by the shoulders and say Not now, Richard. But she couldn’t, and prepared to form a portal under them instead-

“And before you think about making any of your sparkly black holes, just know that birdie here ain’t likely to survive a bullet to the brain. And you ain’t likely to be faster than one neither.” He pressed the pistol tighter to Dick’s head. “At least use proper English while threatening Nightwing,” Rose said through gritted teeth. “It’s either.” Dick raised an eyebrow slightly, and she returned an almost imperceptible shrug, trying to tamp down her bubbling panic. I don’t have a strategy for this, darling. Not like you would. Her mind raced as she tried to think of something, anything, but every plan she came up ended in blood spatters and pain.

“Get over here, girl.” The gangster scowled, shifted impatiently. His finger twitched on the trigger, and Rose flinched. “All right, all right.” She stepped forward slowly, bent to pick up the cuffs and put them on, took another step closer. Tried to avoid Dick’s wide, panicked eyes. Sorry, Blue.

One more step, and he was within reach. The barrel of the gun turned to point at her instead of him, and he turned to look at Rose in dismay. “It’s okay. Just return to base,” she tried to comfort him. “Not without you.” He reached for his escrima, stopped short when the man snarled a warning. “Easy now. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, now would we?”

He was angry, she could tell that much. Angry at the guy for dangling their safety in front of each other like a carrot on a stick, and frustrated that she was now in the hands of a criminal, powers dampened and gun to her head. But he met her eyes and flicked his gaze quickly downwards and back, and she trusted him.

Raising one boot, Rose stomped down hard on the guy’s foot, and he cursed, staggering to the side. She saw Dick tense as his gun hand quivered, then there was a loud BANG, and she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the guy was on the ground, Jason was standing over him with one pistol smoking, and Dick was running to pull her into his arms.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “Are you?” she shot back, frantically looking him up and down for injuries. “How did he even catch you? For a second I thought…” “I’m fine,” he reassured her as he unlocked the cuffs and let them drop. Then he pulled her in again and buried his face in her hair. “I’m just glad you are, too.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, ignoring Jason’s exaggerated gagging, and pulled away to look him in the eye. “Let’s go home.”

#swift creates #swift writes #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Rose Oleco (OC)#swocs #jedi OC #Star Wars #CHRUMBLr whump #Chrumblr whump May #dick grayson whump #Whump #Dc #Batman #the clone wars #rosewing

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